#he likes provoking me. for sure. bro he irritating

[permafrown]

Knowing like 2 things about a char I'm interested in got me marinating on what he would like about me

[luvjunie]

earth 42 miles reaction to reader hanging up the phone on his face mid argument?

— facetime

pairing: e-42!miles (aged up) x fem!reader

contains: arguing, minimal cursing, slightly toxic behavior lol

summary: you love miles, but his overbearing nature is beginning to irritate you. the two of you get into an argument over it on facetime, and you snap at him and hang up the phone. wc: 1,537

a/n: ik the pic might not make sense regarding who hung up on who, but i like it so we finna pretend it does lol. miles/reader are only aged up for plot

“look mami, you not hearin’ me. i’m not tryna control you, i’m just saying maybe it would be best if-“

“that is literally you trying to control me.”

you cut miles off from another one of his mini tangents as you stared at him through the facetime call on your screen, so far beyond the point of caring to hear the same thing he’d told you a million times.

you loved your boyfriend with everything in you. honestly, you did. but in the last few months he’d grown to be so much more controlling than he was in the beginning, a result of his ridiculous need to protect you and it’s got your head spinning on your shoulders. you couldn’t do anything without him looming over you, and you’re fed up. it was suffocating, and you needed him to know that you could handle yourself.

you heard his voice come in again from your phone’s speakers.

“aight fine, if that’s what you wanna think, then that’s cool. but i don’t want you going out that late, chiquita, simple. ain’t no discussion.”

“alright, bro.” you sighed, and he tutted at you.

“i’m not your ‘bro’. don’t do that.”

while you knew your boyfriend only wanted the best for you, you didn’t really understand the extent to all these rules he’d given you. like no going to the corner store at night, having to keep your location on at all times, or having to send a picture of yourself when you’d gotten back into the house— so he could really make sure it was actually you texting him from your phone.

since then, you’d deemed it safe to assume that he most likely had immense trust issues, and that was why he acted so strangely, because any other reason for this kind of behavior seemed ludicrous to you.

miles had yet to tell you he was the prowler, that certain people had bounties on his head, which included anyone who may be involved with him, anyone he holds close to him. he saw everything that went on in this city— when night had fallen and the streets became far too dangerous of a place for a defenseless girl like you to be out in them. you had no idea the kind of people he dealt with, the things he’d seen, the things he had to do. he just didn’t want you to get hurt, but he wasn’t the best at expressing the sincerity of his words, and they often came out too rough, too harsh. it was the best he could do, he was trying to communicate effectively, he really was. but time and time again you’d failed to try and understand his pleas past the words spoken to you; to actually listen to them, and comprehend them, and not just listen to respond.

so, being you, you retorted like the stubborn girl you always were. the stubborn girl he’d fallen so helplessly in love with and was only trying to protect with his entire being.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him in disbelief. “look, you can’t tell me what to do, miles. i can do what i want.”

he didn’t hear anything that came from your mouth, because the expression on your face had completely distracted him from the conversation at hand.

“hol’ on, did you just roll your eyes at me?” his brow raised, daring you to answer that question with anything but a ‘no’.

what you responded with wasn’t necessarily a ‘yes’ per sé, but it definitely wasn’t any better.

“oh, so you wanna control my face now, too? dictating what i do with my life or the shit i say isn’t enough for you?” you challenged.

his head dipped back as he laughed, a deep, provoked laugh— though the both of you knew nothing was funny, and that this was always how he reacted before he actually got angry. laughing it off was a means for him to screw his head back on right, as if a warning to you to not push him too far, because anybody who spoke to him with this kind of gall just had to be joking.

he exhaled heavily, a hand scrubbing down his face.

“can’t lie, you talkin’ mad crazy right now, ma. i think you need to cool it with that.” he warned, corners of his lips turned into a forewarning leer. “ima let that lil’ shit you just said slide, cause i love you, and ion wanna hurt your feelings, but we done talking about this.” he decided, leaning forward to prop his phone back up on his desk before scooping his playstation controller back up into his hands.

“and watch your mouth.”

chin retreating towards your chest, you were taken aback at how quickly he decided for the both of you that the conversation was over, as if you had to agree with him, as if things were decided simply because he’d said so. and somehow, you found it in all your unbridled nerve to make things worse.

“yeah, you’re right. we are.”

thumb pressing to the red X, you hung up the phone, leaving miles to gape at the black of his screen with shock etched into his features. he waited for you to call back and tell him it was an accident, and sat there for a minute, leg bouncing to maintain what little patience he’d managed to cling onto during this entire ordeal. he swallowed his pride and called you back, only for the screen to read ‘facetime unavailable’ after just two rings. you declined it. squaring his jaw, he calmly nodded to himself, phone snatched up, jacket thrown on and controller tossed onto his bed— game forgotten about.

“bet.”

____

you were fuming after you’d hung up the phone, steam probably would’ve been puffing from your ears if something like that were possible outside of the cartoons. there was a tiny part—no, a huge part of you that knew you shouldn’t have hung up on him like that; that regretted it. a part that knew miles’ was genuinely trying his best to speak to you calmly in the way he’d learned how, specifically for you, when calm was something he rarely ever felt. but you couldn’t help your anger either, and figured a break from the conversation, and a shower to calm you down would do the both of you some good.

you sauntered out your bathroom after about twenty minutes, a towel tightly wrapped round your damp torso and a heavy, depleted exhale departing from your lungs.

you felt relaxed. the heat of the water had washed away most, if not all of your anger towards the situation and you sighed to yourself, ready to come back to the discussion with a level head, and to apologize to your boyfriend for snapping at him and ending the call so abruptly. it was rude of you, and honestly you hadn’t thought it through until you had already—

“you know, ion usually fuck with cats like that, cause y’all kinda freak me out. but you cool.”

the inner dialogue of your thoughts were cut off by a familiar voice, muffled through the shut door of your bedroom.

“what the fuck—“ you hurriedly started towards the door, hand barely remaining on the doorknob for a second as you flung it open, to see none other than your boyfriend, miles, sat in your desk chair with your cat, bella, in his lap.

he was leaned back, his large green puffer jacket still on, legs spread in his grey sweats. he looked very comfortable for someone who had just broken into a home.

“how the hell did you get into my house, miles?”

you stared at him unbelievingly, quickly shutting the door behind you. he was in no rush to lift his head to address you directly as he scratched the underside of bella’s chin with his pointer finger.

“window. you should really lock that.”

“even if i had, you would’ve picked it.” you argued.

“true.”

his eyes eventually met yours, and they gave you a drawn out once over, gaze following the drops of water that rolled down your skin. there was a hint of a smirk on his lips, and he almost forgot what he came here for. almost.

you felt your face heat up, grip tightening over your bath towel as you shifted on your feet, suddenly feeling flustered from the boldness of his gaze. so he looked away.

“let’s hope that shower gave your mama some of her sense back, huh?” he dipped his head down to address your cat in a sweet voice, before gently lifting her off his lap and placing her back onto the floor, only for her to drag her head and body along his calf with a purr. traitor.

he leaned back once more, hands patiently clasped between his open legs and head cocked to the side, twin braids swishing behind him when he did so.

“so wassup? you wanna try that conversation again?” with a brow raised he studied your features, as if he were silently challenging you to talk that same shit you did over the phone to his face.

“do you know what boundaries are?”

“nah, not really.” he admitted.

you swallowed, gesturing towards the open room for a reason you didn’t know why.

“can i at least get dressed first?” you cringed at how your voice sounded when you spoke, but the way he was looking at you had your mind reeling and you could only focus on one thing at a time— the argument long forgotten. to be honest, you don’t even recall what you had a problem with.

he shrugged. “sure, if that’s what you’d like.” arms crossing over his chest he spun around in your swivel chair, now facing the same window he’d come in through. “lemme know when i can turn around.”

you sighed.

this boy was going to be the death of you.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

[tickle-bugs]

Cool Guy

Anon: Heya! If you're still doing them, could you make a tickle fic on Luke and Han but js Han getting Luke? I love the whole Luke being like Hans lil bro 😭 An idea being maybe Luke is embarrassing Han in front of Leia and Han gets him back, Leia maybe helping Han a bit? I like your fics a lot haha! It's alr if not ofc, js have a good day! :D <3

Summary: Han is cool, suave, and absolutely irresistible. Luke vehemently disagrees.

Han knows logically that he cannot not squish the galaxy’s last hope like a bug. That would be unwise. There is, however, zero question of if he deserves it.

Luke is almost better at being a little shit than he is at being a Jedi.

“Princess!” Han leans against the wall. The Falcon’s internals hum behind it. Leia looks up at him blankly. 

“Pest.” She takes a bite of a sandwich. “What do you want?”

Nothing. Not a thing. He just loves the irritated curve of her eyebrow, the sharpness of her gaze, the curl of her lips--

“I’d love it if you’d stop taking what’s not yours.” He nods towards the sandwich. Leia regards it, then makes deep eye contact on her next bite. Han chuckles in something like disbelief, but he knows her. Knows how she likes to provoke. 

“Nice boys share their food.” She takes another bite.

“Well, I ain’t nice. Keep your thieving little hands to yourself.” Han considers wrapping up the sandwich, just to be petty, but he knows she hardly takes interest in his things unless she needs something. He could find something else to eat. 

“Or else what?” She plays with the crust of the bread. Eye contact. God, he loves this game of theirs. She leaves him breathless too often for his liking, though. As he flounders for a comeback, he hears a high-pitched noise from the other side of the room. 

Luke. Great. 

“What are you wearing?” Luke laughs incredulously. Han looks down at himself. He’d put on a fur vest today instead of his usual cargo one. It was something he’d snatched off some mook that’d tried to set him up with a dishonest deal. It’s old and it smells a little funny, but he likes it. It’s his now. 

“Wh—it’s a vest. It’s cold.” Han frowns. 

“You look like Chewie shed on you.” Luke leans his hip against the doorway as he settles in to mock. There’s a Wookiee outcry of indignation from the cockpit that goes unanswered.

“It’s a fashion statement.” Han adjusts his posture, gives them a new angle. Luke snorts. Han scowls.

“What exactly are you stating?” Leia rests her chin in her hands. She’s got a crumb on her cheek. He does not think about brushing it away. 

“You’re both terrible.” Han stomps off to change. 

“Right back atcha!” Leia calls after him. Her laughter is sweet, even at his expense. 

….

Run-ins with Empire patrols always put Han on a fine edge--he’s a well-oiled machine with Chewie at his back, but recent additions to the Falcon have proven…distracting. As he slams them into a hyperspace jump, the twins’ noise somehow drowns out the noise of the engine. Leia’s complaining that he took too many risks, Luke’s insisting he took too little, and Han’s half tempted to spin send the Falcon into a barrel roll just to hear a different sound.

Chewie won’t let him. The honorable bastard.

The moment they finish the jump, Han swivels out of his chair and goes…well, he’s not sure where he’s going, but he knows he needs to see and hear something besides Luke crunching angrily on crackers. 

Leia follows on Han’s heels, Luke follows on hers, and Han considers just ejecting himself from the airlock and being done with it. 

“If you want to die, be my guest, but don’t put us at risk for your ego.” Leia smacks his chest. Han can’t tell if he’s imagining the lingering touch of her fingers. 

“No, you’d miss me too much.” He fires back, pulling out of her grasp. He takes long strides, taking a petty sort of joy in hearing significantly shorter legs scramble after him. 

“Not a chance in hell,” Leia snarls, snatching the back of his vest. He whirls around. 

“Yes, you would, because things are boring without me. You like having me around.” He leans into her space. She stands her ground. 

“The fate of the galaxy is boring?” She conveniently ignores that last part. Han doesn’t miss it. 

“It is without me. Face it, princess. You’re attached.” He puts his hands on his hips. Leia’s face turns an interesting color.

“Ha! See? Attached!” Han points triumphantly. Leia smacks his hand away. 

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t need to. The truth’s all over your face.” He circles that pointer finger in her face. She smacks it hard enough to bruise this time. 

“The truth that I can’t stand you, more like. You’re arrogant, reckless, irresponsible—“

“And exactly your type.” Han grins. “You like having me around. Meanwhile, I’m cool, casual, and unattached.” Han clicks his tongue. Leia attempts to burn a hole through his forehead with her gaze. He worries for a moment that she might. 

“Really?” Luke crunches loudly. “I heard you telling Chewie that you like having us around. That you wouldn’t know what you’d do without us. Didn’t sound very cool and casual.” 

“I was drunk.” Han’s face burns. Leia snorts. Han scowls. 

“Drunk mind, sober thoughts.” Luke grins teasingly, waving a chip in his face. Han tries to snatch the bag, but Luke twirls effortlessly out of the way. Damn Jedi. 

“Sounds like you’re attached, laser brain.” Leia circles her finger in his face, and Han wonders if turning himself in to the Empire might be better for his ego.

…

Han’s not sure when his game with Leia stopped being a game and started being this, but he’s not complaining. He’s made out in worse storage rooms than the ones on the Falcon. They’d started with fetching a rations restock, devolved into bickering, and, well…their arguments usually end in violence or the threat of it, so Leia trying to climb him like a tree is a much-welcomed departure from form.

Normally Han’s great at keeping his emotions in a cold, dark little box where he never has to deal with them, but Leia looked so pretty yelling at him that he just…had to kiss her. He knew at that moment he’d die if he didn’t. It’s not the first time they’ve kissed and he hopes it won’t be the last, but each touch with Leia is like drifting closer to the beautiful terror of the sun. The best part, the overwhelming part, is that she wants him too. 

All of that would’ve been well and good, great even, if Luke hadn’t been standing in the doorway. 

Luke and Leia have some kind of stare-off that Han suspects involves their twinness--there’s lots of flustered, offended noises without words being uttered. Luke raises his eyebrow in a way that really seems to get to Leia, because she splutters, which she expressly does not do. 

“Don’t you start! I tolerate him!” She glares at Luke, her cheeks turning red. 

“Aww.” Han smirks. She elbows him in the ribs.

“With your mouth?” Luke’s near hysterical. 

“Among other things.” Han smirks wider. Luke’s face twists in sheer disgust. 

“Shut up,” Leia hisses, blushing and hitting him harder. He grins.

Luke levels a finger at Han, a habit he picked up from him in the first place, and then stalks off. 

“Chances he knifes me in my sleep?” 

“Lower than me doing it myself.” Leia swats his arm once more for good measure, but she’s still glowing, and Han thinks he might want to see that smile of hers for the rest of his life.

“I’ll take those odds.” 

The difference between Luke and his sister, in Han’s opinion, is that Luke’s noise goes inwards. Leia will scream at Han until she’s red in the face and then she’ll miraculously find more air. Luke gets quiet and vengeful, which is why Han starts to suspect foul play the third time he trips over thin air. 

Han really wants to fight back, but every time he opens his mouth, Leia’s lurking around some dark corner. 

On hour three of Luke’s temper tantrum, Han’s eye begins to twitch. He’s probably bruised every inch of his shins by now, he’s tired, and he thinks if he can close his eyes for an hour he might remember how to function. Just a sweet, Skywalkerless hour. 

Han drags his hand over his face as he walks off to his cabin. He finds Luke standing in the hall like an omen. He doesn’t move when Han approaches. The little furrow in his brow is probably meant to be intimidating, and maybe one day it will be, but Han can’t bring himself to care. 

The desire to lay down overcomes his rational thought, and he does to Luke what he often does to Leia: jams his hands under Luke’s arms and lifts him out of the way.

Except, unlike Leia, Luke doesn’t try to kick him. He lets out a giggle at a pitch Han didn’t know he was capable of. 

Han pauses, raising an eyebrow at the rapidly-reddening Jedi in his arms. He twitches his fingers. Luke chokes out a surprised laugh. 

Han’s suddenly not tired anymore. Funny, that. 

“Han, don’t you dare, c’mon--”

Han sets Luke down but doesn’t release him--he viciously wiggles his fingers where they’re trapped under Luke’s arms. He goes down like a sack of droid components, filling the Falcon with bright, bouncy laughter it so desperately needs. 

“You get a minute for every bruise, and my shins are looking mighty purple.” Han whistles lowly, pressing into the gaps between Luke’s ribs. Luke lets out a giggly hiccup and kicks his legs. 

“That’s not f-fair!” Luke clutches Han’s arms desperately. Han twitches his fingers and he curls up, shaking his head. Han distantly wonders when Luke last laughed like this. If he ever has. 

“Yeah? Tell me about it. Pick on someone your own size and maybe life will be fairer.” Han tries to keep his stare blank, but his mouth quirks up at the corners. Luke lets out an indignant gasp, but he quickly tumbles right back down into laughter.

“Let go,” Luke growls, his whole face scrunching around his smile. 

“Kid, I can’t let you go if you’ve got my hands.” Han gives a dramatic tug. He stops, raising his eyebrow expectantly. Luke pouts--pouts!--at him and lifts his arms at glacial pace. Han pulls away…

…and goes right for Luke’s exposed stomach. His shout of betrayal mixes beautifully with his laughter.

“Rookie mistake,” Leia tuts, snickering at Luke’s misfortune. Han jumps at her appearance--man, he should put a bell on these two--and Luke takes that as a signal to start wriggling away. Han reels him back in with a hearty laugh.

“Leia, fetch your--” Han cuts Luke off with a squeeze to the side before he can say anything embarrassing. 

“You gonna help, Your Worship? Or are you above getting your hands dirty?” Han casts a glance at Leia. 

“Never.” Leia smirks, kneeling beside Luke. They stare at each other for a long, tense while. Leia’s gaze drifts over him the same way she sifts through a plan for holes, until she stops at his knees. 

Luke’s eyes widen. Leia grins.

She latches on like a viper and Luke squeals, drumming his feet on the ground. He throws his head back and cackles himself into silence, flopping around uselessly. 

“Remind me to stay on your good side,” Han chuckles, a little nervous.

“You’re notoriously bad at it,” she smirks. Han swears he feels the ghost of her fingers on his own legs. He shudders.

Luke’s surrender is less of a cry and more of a wheeze, but they let him go quickly all the same. He tosses his arm over his glowing face with a great, heaving sigh.

“You alright over there?” Han chuckles, nudging Luke’s boot. He lifts his arm to glare.

“I hate you.”

“I know.” Han pats his ankle. Luke kicks him. Han squeezes his knee and he immediately blurts out a tired, giggly apology. 

“Stop being a little shit and trying to trip me up. It’s not gonna work. Too cool for that.” Han pats Luke’s stomach. 

Warm hands wrap around his waist and he leans back, scaring himself with how easily he fits into Leia’s arms. She hooks her chin over his shoulder.

“Are you ready?” She murmurs, brushing her fingers over the fabric of his shirt. 

“Ready for what?” His hand finds hers. He’s more than ready, if he’s reading this right. She’s rarely like this beyond closed doors, and it sends a thrill through him. Her lips brushing his ear drives him just a little crazy. He starts to stand, but she pulls him back down. 

“To be tripped up.” She smirks. He feels it. 

“Wh—“ 

Leia’s fingers dig in with deadly accuracy. Han crumples and his bravado goes with him. Loud, hearty laughter bursts from him as he slides to the floor, boneless in her arms.

“Aw, look at you cool guy.” Luke sidles up next to him with a shit eating grin. He tickles mockingly under Han’s chin and he, mortifyingly, giggles. Luke chases the sound, having way too much fun for Han’s liking. 

Han growls and tries to kick him. Leia’s fingers find his hips—cruel and unusual—and he’s toast. He resigns himself to die in her lap, which isn’t the overall worst way to go, and makes a mental note to write Luke out of his will. 

As long as Chewie thinks he’s cool, he supposes it’s still a net win. 

[telyscope]

Omg! Just read your jealous hc and this gave me an idea. Can you do something where Neteyam and the reader are best friends (he’s in love with her, obviously) and Ao’nung notices. He tries to flirt with the reader just to get on his nerves and he succeeds his mission. Neteyam tries to stay away from her for a while because he can’t stand the thought of her with someone else and everytime he sees her is just pain. She notices and question him about it and he finally confesses. (If you could do, it would be great! Sorry if this is confusing, english is not my first language)

of course!! i’m sorry isnt the best or seems a little rushed, im still getting used to writing longer fics! but i still hope you enjoy<3

neteyam x fem!reader

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you and neteyam were inseparable. ever since you guys were kids, you two were always around each other. as you grew older your relationship with neteyam had only grew stronger, and now that you two were new to the metkayina clan, you only had each other

it was painfully obvious to everyone else that neteyam liked you. though for some reason, you were the only one that couldn’t tell. i mean sure he’d openly flirt with you here and there, but you always just brushed it off

aonung on the other hand, indeed did not just “brush it off.” he first caught onto neteyams little crush on you when he saw neteyam smiling at you and looking down at the ground while smiling when you weren’t watching

ever since he saw that moment, all the other hints were so clear. he noticed every time neteyam smiled at you or watched you in awe

he would’ve found it cute, honestly.. only if it was anyone other than neteyam. and what better way to piss neteyam off than to flirt with his beloved.

aonung, roxto, and tsireya were showing you and neteyam around the reef along with lo’ak and tuk. it was so, so beautiful. you wanted to see all of it, the entire reef. but your swimming and breathing capabilities were getting in the way of that.

the four of you rose to the surface to catch your breaths, aonung, roxto, and tsireya following shortly after. tsireya understands you guys can’t swim or hold your breath as well as them, but aonung and roxto can’t help but let out a small laugh

“stop that aonung” tsireya hits him on the head, trying to knock some sense into him

his smile slowly fades but widens once again when you two make eye contact. “you’re right tsireya, im sorry. it’s not their fault they can’t swim as well as us. it’s a shame, truly, i would’ve loved to show y/n around the reef, but i wouldn’t wanna tire her out.” you vaguely hear sarcasm in his voice, but you’re too busy focused on his words to care about his tone of voice

you mouth falls agape and you stare right into aonungs eyes. “no no that wouldn’t tire me out, i just cant keep up with you, that’s all. i would love to explore the reef some more.”

“is that so? well then, what do you say i show you around, just the two of us. ill hold your hand the whole time so that you don’t get lost.” aonung flashes a rather flirtatious smile, and your face gets hot.

“just the two of you? really?” neteyam turns to focus all his attention on you. “how do you know he won’t leave you stranded all alone. you barely know each other.” the irritation in neteyams voice is clear, and the glare in his eyes is sharp.

“neteyam, calm down. do you really think the chiefs son would do that to a guest?” you respond, confused by neteyams sudden annoyance.

“she’s right, my father would kill me. i just want to show her how beautiful the reef is. no harm in that, right?” aonung adds on, purposely sneaking a wink at you at you to provoke neteyam even more.

neteyam was pissed. was he doing this on purpose? worst part was, you didn’t even seem to mind it. in fact, you were excited to go with him.

“cmon bro it’ll be fine, let’s just go back and find kiri.” lo’ak says trying to ease neteyam, clearly catching onto his anger.

neteyam doesn’t say another word. he just looks at you for a moment before swimming off with the rest of them.

—

how long has it been? an hour? two? you and aonung finally finished exploring the reef, and goodness was it gorgeous. you cant wait to tell neteyam all about what you saw, that is.. if you can find him.

everyone was gathered on the beach except for him. lo’ak, kiri, tsireya, tuk, all of them. where was neteyam? he was always the first to welcome you back after you went somewhere, but he was nowhere in sight.

“lo’ak, do you know where neteyam is?”

“nope, once we got back from the reef he left and i haven’t seen him since.”

how strange.

perhaps he’s just tired. he hasn’t gotten much rest since the arrival here, so maybe he went to sleep early. it’s fine, you’ll talk to him tomorrow.

—

it’s been almost two days and neteyam still hasn’t talked to you. at first you gave him space in case he truly was mad at you, but now it was just getting tiring, and you were sick of it. it was obvious something is upsetting him, and you were gonna find out what.

you observed him as he talked to lo’ak on the beach. it was already eclipse, and you watched the way his spots faintly glowed under the dark sky. there was a nervous feeling gnawing at your stomach and you just couldn’t figure out why. “it’s just neteyam,” you remind yourself.

lo’ak started walking back to the hut, and you took the chance to finally speak with neteyam. you paused for a moment before you continued your steps towards him. he looked serene, beautiful even, but there was a glint of sadness in his eyes.

“neteyam,” you mumbled out, your footsteps matched your voice, soft. he shifted his body towards you, his back facing the ocean with his arms crossed. he had the same look on his face he did just seconds ago. you exhaled slowly, a light breeze blowing your hair. you could feel his stare on you, it was intimidating. you finally lifted your head to meet his eyes. his eyes reflected the stars and for a moment you forgot what you were gonna say.

“neteyam, did i do something?” your voice was hesitant at first, but your pace sped up, “i mean- you’ve been ignoring me, haven’t you? you’ve never ignored me. what’s going on.” you let out a deep breath that you didn’t realize you were holding.

he didn’t say anything for a moment. he just stared into your eyes with no visible expression. “do you have feelings for aonung,” he finally lets out.

what?

what?

did he really just ask that? you stare at him with utter disbelief for a moment. “i’m sorry, what?” you scoff. “you don’t talk to me for almost two days and that is the first thing you say?”

“im giving you your answer.”

“no, no you are not. is this some sort of awful joke?”

he lets out a breathy laugh, and you can see his body tense up, “you just don’t get it do you?? how much more obvious do i need to make it for you to finally get the damn hint?” his arms fall to his sides and his voice becomes more assertive, “for fucks sake i like you, y/n, i’ve loved you for years, and you still haven’t noticed?”

oh.

the both of you fall silent. seems you aren’t the only one in shock, neteyam takes a step back as if he couldn’t believe what he just said either. you stand still for a good minute, unsure of what to do. perhaps you shouldn’t have brushed off all the hints after all. the wind gently blows his braids and he stands tall. you could admire him for hours. you practically already have. you always find yourself unknowingly staring at the way his eyes shine in the sun, or the way he smiles, or the way he’s so, effortlessly, alluring.

but right now was not a moment to just stare at him. your heart is racing and the nervous feeling comes back. “neteyam..”

“no i’m sorry just forget what i said i didnt-“

“neteyam,” you cut him off, “i see you.”

[shinjisdone]

The many (Ph)Faces of Yandere Thorfinn (S1)

@luopenis , @jinsecho , @mitsureigen , @theknightssecrets

*INHALES DEEPLY*

OOOOKayy, I once mentioned that I find Yandere! Thorfinn so tricky to write cause he got so many phases through his arc and is a deep character. Its so HARD for me to pinpoint him anywhere CAUSE THERE IS NO WAY TO PUT HIM INTO ARCHTYPES OR CATEGORY

I MUST WRITE HIM IN CHARACTER, I MUST!

Because - just like Shrek - my boy is an onion. He's got layers.

S1!Thorfinn:

This guy is a mess. He keeps his thoughts to himself but wears his heart on his sleeve yet unfortunately, it is all the negative emotions he shows.

He has not a single problem spouting out insults and demeaning words. Looking down on people who dont think like him.

Yet that is the only time he really talks to others. Only when he spits in their face becaus he truly does not make an effort to care for others.

To be fair the "others" are vikings, a coward prince and the murderer of his father.

Still, he does not care for titles or social cues and behavior. If he doesn't like you, he is actually quiet UNTIL you provoke an answer from him. Other than that, he does not share what he is REALLY thinking.

So, lovesickness from Yandere!S1! Thorfinn??? Not likely.

Lovesickness imo is straight up floating in dreamland. Fully accepting your feelings and basking in them. But Thorfinn being like that??? Nope.

The only times he'd feel even the slightest indications of love is when he is really, really, close to you - emotionally and physically.

If you are already close, some fluttering of your eyelashes and angelic smiles won't make him swoon (he'd think you're weird) but after carefully forming a bond...and interacting with him with the intention of care might.

*slams fist on a table* Thorfinn won't blink if you get close, put a hand on him or even gently tend to his wounds. He'd do the same because injuries need to be treated in a careful, gentle manner in order for them to heal. and not die It just makes SENSE.

But doing so and then ending the treatment with a brush of your thumb over the back of his hand, GENUINELY looking worried and telling him to be careful because you care- *GASP* it's gonna do something.

It's the sincerity. This utmost genuine display of...care. Someone WANTING him to be okay. WANTING him to...still live.

Suddenly he's left sweating and hot, his heart thumping against his chest it hurts. What is this?

He startles and backs off. The feeling is foreign and he kind of grows to hate it. Usually Thorfinn contains a calm and cool head (when he isnt blinded by his emotions) but this...state truly renders him frozen.

He might slowly accept these feelings...but acceptance for him means letting go of the irritation when he feels them. When he comes to the point where he finally hugs you out of his own will, he will still feel these heartthrobs but...will not protest.

The typical 'lovesickness' doesn't really exist in Thorfinn. Never will he gush and praise you but hold you close as his unreadable gaze never seems to shift from you. Thorfinn wears his heart on his sleeve but never reveals his inner thoughts.

Clingy and stalker??? Also kinda no? How is he supposed to stalk you when you eat, sleep and travel on the same ship?

Clingy though...well, perhaps. Not in a 'Don't part from me' way but more like a 'I GOTTA MAKE SURE U DONT DIE'

And unfortunately, anyone who isn't him is an enemy in his eyes.

He's not gonna...put an arm around you or show anyone that you 'belong' to him but he's more like a shadow or dog just...behind you. And looking angry at anything that isn't you >:(

Obsessive and possesive is also tricky because S1!Thorfinn would never, ever - in a million gajillion centuries - ever admit he is in love. HE WOULD NEVER REALIZE HE HAS FEELINGS FOR YOU NEVER

Bro is so stupid. So boyish and stubborn and emotional but so dense and his head as thick as lumber that he'd legit not realize his feelings. If he ever would, he'd refuse to believe it :(

Love??? Romance??? Whats that????

He would think about you...and wants to keep you safe...

You are all he really has, after all. But it still isn't anything near obsessive or possesive. He's kinda...refusing these feelings in a way.

He is very overprotective though 👍 yet that has little to do with delusion (which he also lacks) but more about paranoia in a way? He grew up alongside his father's murderer and the war he wages and there is you, right in the middle. His overprotectiveness makes sense in the environment you both are in.

But he does put it up a notch. Goes a full 200% with his overprotectinveness that literally ANYONE is a danger. If they are meek enough he just scares them away by literally standing behind you like a shadow (as if he was tall enough to overshadow anyone) and glares at them as if one wrong inhale will mean their death.

Anyone who touches you, invited or not, gets to meet his daggers :)

It could have been the most pleasant interaction you had but he dont care :) they gonna die

Manipulation? HA

Bro only has two things in his brain: Askeladd and you.

Though he might be insistent on some things. How you are weak and he is strong, how you shouldn't trust that person and going alone in there is going to get you killed!

But none of these words are carefully picked to sway you - like the thick-headed idiot that he is, Thorfinn believes wholeheartedly all he says.

The young man is always honest. He may not share much but when he does it is always the truth in his eyes.

Sadism? HMMMMM

Maybe...but then, only the tiniest bit.

Everyone is his enemy. Yet he doesn't really bear any hatred for those that are not Askeladd.

Perhaps he will be more cruel to those that cause you harm. Prolonging their pain until he kills them. Though I think that kind of behavior of him would be 70% rage and 30% sadism.

There's a chance he might mock them as he slices their flesh slowly open.

It first starts off with threats - how dare they do this to you and how they better not ever get near you again. Never think of you, never speak your name or even breath the same air as you!

He's talking as if they are still capable of doing anything to you. Their legs have already been sliced so deep they cannot walk and Thorfinn's dagger is going in deeper and deeper as they beg for their life.

You'd think he'd be delusional there. Perhaps he is a bit...

But then it's like he snapped back to reality.

"But this is as far as you're going to go."

He slaughters them afterwards. While he does enjoy throwing out insults and threats before killing them, the fatal blow is done with utmost ire.

I can kinda imagine him as self-indulgent kinda?

Boy is uncaring and cold, very reserved. He wouldn't want to be- worhsipped or anything (its kinda embarrassing and weird?) but to have you dote on him?

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm maybe it aint so bad teehee

Especially when he is tired or injured. Any kind of physical doting as he relaxes is really heehee nice

Might get soft but just a bit. He still doesn't say much but will definitely indulge in your care.

Will be a bit grumpy if you suddenly stop and purposefully lean his entire weight on you to stop you from leaving.

IF YOU LEAVE FOR ANOTHER PERSON TO LOOK AFTER/TALK TO OMG HE WILL ACTUALLY GLARE AT YOU

Thorfinn doesn't like it. To him it makes no sense why you'd need to be there for someone else when all that matters is you two. You have each other and no one else and this is how it's supposed to be.

Ok, now that I think about it, very hostile towards anyone that isn't you. Like...he actually INDULGES in the idea of only you two being here. In the world, all alone. No one else but you two.

He isn't delusional and actually BELIEVES you two to be sole survivors of everything you've gone through with the world being your playground...but the image is nice.

So no, he will not let you be with anyone else >:(

Will be more hostile to the third party then you but will also tell you to stay away from that troublemaker. Ew, look at them they aren't Thorfinn.

Kinda impulsive though. Yes, definitely. Anything that has him snap in a uhhhh violent way will be very impulsive and very bad for everyone unfortunately part of this.

It could be Askeladd, it could be a danger to you, it could be the mocking of his father - Thorfinn is easy to piss off and while his very first reaction is violence, the actions that he chooses to do right after may vary depending on the thing that made him snap.

You were hurt? Absolutely merciless as he destroys that person, no matter if bandmate or not.

Someone insulted you? They get their jaw broken with one fist.

Ok BUT - BUT BUT BUT ---- LISTEN, LISTEN!

A romantic gesture thrown at you from someone else? Uh oh.

Thorfinn doesn't really know how to react to that. He usually is more familiar with fighting and mocking. So seeing someone get close with a non-threatening intention is...different.

He knows one thing for sure though. It angers him.

Rendered frozen for a minute before he goes beserk of course.

Someone suddenly drawing you close? Hugging you? dshfpvnsdinsfbje what is the MEANING OF THIS!! WILL ABSOLUTELY GO BETWEEN YOU AND HOLD UP HIS DAGGER AT THEM

Giving you the most innocent of gifts such as flowers?

??? Whuat, what is this supposed to be???

Will take the flower from you and examine it, as if he could find anything wrong with it. DUde, its a flower.

Will clutch it tight in his hands, destroying the petals before throwing it on the ground. Such a...useless thing.

Definitely confused by all these gestures and is more perplexed by this tightening grip he feels in his heart. It...hurts and he is vexed...but thinking about it also...painful and vexing. So he doesn't.

Thorfinn doesn't reflect on his emotions and instead just acts upon them.

So YEAH LOVESICK? NO

STALKER, OBSESSIVE, POSSESSIVE, MANIPULATION THE WHOLE SPIEL OF A YANDERE???? NOPE THATS NOT REALLY THORFINN, YA KNOW?

oh BUT OVERPROTECTIVE, SELF-INDULGENT, IMPULSIVE, QUIET AND LONGING WITH A HINT OF SADISM???? I THINK SO!

omg and now think about both sad man arc thorfinn AND peaceful ponytal thorfinn;;; im sweating this guy is gonna give me a stroke of how hard i have to think about his yandere tendencies

like what are you mister???? I-i need to know

legit literally thinking about him and all the chaos he would unleash. but also....he is not your typical yandere. he gets so special over time, shedding his layers of the onion he is

[calaofnoldor]

What’s Mine

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 7,595

Summary: The secret you and Sam are hiding from Dean is threatened by your inability to keep your hands off each other.

Warnings: 18+ no actual smut but plenty of implied smut, pre-smut, and smut adjacency lol, secret dating, enemies to lovers, jealousy and possessiveness (exhibited by both sam and reader), slight obsession with sam’s big ass hands (i blame this largely on @walkerboy290​‘s glorious hand porn gif sets), and language

A/N: inspired by and written for @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ bc she’s been bugging me to write smut and using her birthday as a bargaining chip, so i hope you’re happy sai. happy (belated) birthday babe! i suppose in my subconscious need to truly honor you, this became the longest one shot i’ve ever written... that and this is now also a little birthday gesture for the brilliant and beautiful @sams-sass​​ (damn your close birthdays!) even though she never asked for smut (if you hate it, i’ll write you something else!) happy birthday to you too, darling!

also written for @superbadassnatural​‘s 333 badass followers celebration with the prompt “___ and I are together.” “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa.” and @writethelifeyouwant​‘s 300 follower fic challenge with the prompt “All the pretty girls like Samuel” (both prompts are bolded in the fic) i’m sorry i’m so late! congratulations to both of you and thanks for letting me enter your challenges!

[basically i have a lot of people to blame for this disaster 😂]

Square Filled: Secret Dating for @spnfluffbingo​ and Enemies to Lovers for @girl-next-door-writes​ Make Me Feel Bingo

MASTERLIST

The waffles on your plate are surprisingly good for a sketchy, 50’s-themed diner, but unfortunately your attention is elsewhere. In fact, the two distinctly masculine voices behind you have been obnoxiously impairing your ability to savor the buttery, syrup-doused carbs since their owners sat down in the adjoining booth. It’s the topic of their discussion that disturbs you, and nips at your conscience until you realize you can no longer take off without imparting a few words to your oblivious colleagues.

Turning your head subtly to the side, you try to catch a glimpse of the men you’re about to confront in your peripheral vision. From what you can see, they’re both rather burly, a little rough around the edges, and from what you’ve heard, recklessly cocksure. You know the type all too well. Being a lone hunter of the fairer sex for most of your life means you’ve long since learned that the best way to combat their kind is with a steadfast façade of thick skin and unwavering confidence.

So you sigh and put on your best smile before turning around, crossing your forearms along the top of the booth seat, “Listen fellas, I hate to interrupt, but I really wouldn’t bother with the bamboo dagger and Shinto priest if I were you.”

“And who the hell are you?” the one with shorter hair demands. He’s a bit stockier than his companion and has a face that looks like it was designed by Abercrombie and Fitch - well that explains the arrogance.

“I’m the person who’s about to save your asses evidently,” you respond with a smug grin, trying not to let their absurdly good looks deter your act.

Abercrombie’s partner, the Fabio wannabe, releases a quiet scoff, “And how are you gonna do that?” he questions dubiously.

“By letting you in on a little secret…” Throwing him a tight smile, you lean forward and lower your voice, “That ōkami you’re after? It’s not an ōkami, it’s a ghoul.” Sitting back, you await the outrage.

“What?! But that’s not possible, I checked the lore. And it’s obviously got a type.” Fabio’s glossy chestnut locks fall across his delicate features as he shakes his head in disbelief, and you almost snort out loud. How did this amateur expect to hunt with hair like that?

You look him over, taking in the broad shoulders and muscled arms, as well as the obvious height advantage he’s got over Abercrombie even whilst they’re both seated. To be honest, you’re surprised he’s referencing lore at all. Guys his size always assume they can either outman or outgun whatever obstacles cross their path, and they almost never take women like you seriously, despite your ample years of acquired knowledge and invaluable experience. It’s this experience that surmises a bit of antagonism here is inevitable, so you might as well get a head start.

“Yeah well maybe you should check again, big guy,” you glance down at his hands, your first mistake as their sheer size render you speechless and subsequently agitated at yourself for the momentary lapse of visceral lust, but the show must go on, “Make sure those giant, lumbering hands of yours don’t fumble over anything important or you might miss the connection to Isabelle Harding. You see it’s not ‘a type’; it’s revenge.”

“Wh- Bu- I looked through the files. I wouldn’t have missed that,” Fabio insists.

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you type ‘Isabelle Harding’ and ‘1987 school bombing’ into your search bar and see what comes up?” you gesture towards the laptop on their table with a raised brow. Minutes later, both men are dumbfounded by the revelation on the screen, staring between it and you with their mouths agape.  

You chuckle silently at their faces, “Don’t worry, there’s no need to thank me. Although you rookies might wanna go home and let the more experienced hunter finish up here.” As you’re about to bid them farewell, you dip back in to add, “Oh and a word of free advice, maybe don’t discuss supernatural monsters quite so loudly in public spaces next time. It might invite unwanted attention.”

With that, you turn around and slap some cash down next to your unfinished waffles, before grabbing your jacket and strutting out the door.

Sam is left in utter confusion. The sudden animosity you had spouted his way seems completely baseless and unwarranted. Had he somehow offended you? Sam generally considers himself a highly respectful and fairly easy-going guy, not quite as hot-blooded as his brother, and thus not as likely to provoke such antipathy from a complete stranger. To make matters worse, he certainly can’t deny that something about you had registered within his subconscious as inexplicably attractive, despite the way you’d embarrassed him. In his flustered and slightly aroused state, it had been all he could do to remain awestruck in his seat and stare blatantly at your ass as you walked away.

The next time Sam sees you is only twelve hours later and no less humiliating. You’re mid-swing in the killing blow against what you had accurately predicted to be a ghoul as he and Dean tumble in. Despite the low lighting, Sam is once again stupefied by your raging beauty, augmented by the incredible skill you’re displaying in a much more physical sense this time around. Before he can drag his eyes away, there’s a collective shout of “watch out!” and suddenly you’re right in front of him. In a blur of events, you somehow manage to push Sam out of the way and successfully decapitate the unexpected second ghoul that had been sneaking up behind him, with only a slice across the arm to show for it.

“Didn’t I tell you two to go home?” You’re panting from the exertion and Sam’s gaze lands on the neckline of your shirt, skewed from the fight and revealing a good amount of cleavage. He quickly averts his eyes. What is happening? Sam can’t remember the last time anyone had evoked such a staggering reaction from him. He feels as if he’s a mere spectator in his own body.

Across from him, you press your hand against the wound and curse when it comes back covered in blood. At your groan of pain, Sam finally finds his voice again, “Shit. I’m so sorry! I don’t know how I missed that other one. I- that normally doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s what you say to all the girls, huh?” you reply offhand, still a bit out of breath.

It’s easy for Sam to dismiss your mocking given that he feels terribly guilty for being the cause of your injury. From where he’s standing, the cut looks deep. “Here, at least let me stitch it up for you. It’s too awkward a position for you to do it yourself,” he offers, holding out his ginormous hands to you like he’s waving a white flag.

“I think you’ve done enough damage for one day, haven’t you, big guy? At this point, I’d rather Abercrombie over there be the one behind the needle.”

“Who- what?” are the first words Dean speaks since the action has died down.

You turn to face the shorter guy, “Oh don’t look so surprised. You might as well be the model for a slightly older Ken doll. Are you up for it or not?”

Dean’s mouth hangs open as he tries to determine whether he should feel flattered or insulted.

“Uh- actually, I’m better at stitches than my brother,” Sam butts in.

“With those jumbo, fumbling hands? Yeah, sure you are, big guy,” you decline skeptically.

“It’s Sam,” he states through a clenched jaw.

“OK, Sam. Since I just saved your life, you mind making yourself useful and burning those bodies while your bro puts my arm back together? You know, as a ‘thank you’ perhaps?”

Sam is stunned for the third time that day. No one has ever belittled him (whilst gratuitously attacking his size) insofar without any apparent reason. It seems as though his very existence upsets you and the arbitrariness of your contempt has caused an anger to stir beneath him, but beyond that lies bewilderment and irritation. How had he managed to accomplish two such massive mistakes in front of you in the span of so short a time? Perturbed and bitter, Sam silently sets to work on the bodies.

Meanwhile, you’ve come to a surprising realization as Dean begins to cut the fabric of your flannel away from your damaged arm, the name ‘Sam’ and the words ‘my brother’ resounding in your head, “Wait a second- there’s no way… you’re not… the Winchesters, are you? Sam and… Dean?”

“The one and only, sweetheart.” He sends you a dazzling smile that is as perfect as you’d expect, but within his eyes is an underlying poignancy that you recognize as clear as day: an indication of a traumatic past and a lifetime spent plastering on tough veneers. You notice as well how gentle his touch is and how his stitches are practiced and prudent. Perhaps you had judged him too hastily.

Through an incredulous chuckle, you retort, “Well I can’t say I didn’t expect more from you, but at least this’ll get me a free round of drinks at the hunters’ pub tonight.”

Dean laughs with you before sobering at the thought of how his baby brother must be feeling, “Hey listen, take it easy on Sammy, alright? I don’t know what’s gotten into him today but he’s not usually like this. He’s actually the smart one, believe it or not.”

Scoffing, you can’t help but smile back at Dean and soon find an easy rhythm with the older Winchester, despite your awkward introduction.

From several yards away, however, Sam looks wistfully back to see you smiling lightheartedly at something Dean’s said, the two of you huddled in close proximity as his brother’s hands drift across your bare skin. Something akin to envy bubbles within his chest although he’s aware it makes no sense, so with a frown, Sam does his best to shake it off and get back to work.

But it’s not easy to forget you. And just as Sam is beginning to think he’s rid that awful day from his memory, you pop back into his life three months down the line.

“Well, if it isn’t the overgrown hunter extraordinaire Sammy Winchester.” The sarcasm that oozes from your otherwise beguiling voice has him gritting his teeth in no time.

“It’s Sam.”

“So you here to mess up my hunt again, Sam?”

Although he wishes he could have been the bigger man instead of surrendering to the resentment you roused within him, after a couple repeated hatchet burying attempts fall through, Sam just can’t resist the little game you’ve started.

Over the next few months, you and Dean form a fortuitously close bond and the older Winchester develops a habit of calling you up when faced with a troublesome hunt, and vice versa. Despite Sam’s fabricated displeasure, a show he puts on mostly for Dean (since any other emotion would seem illogical given the way you treat him), Sam is peculiarly and begrudgingly excited to see you every time. But the match never ends. In fact, Sam lets it intensify each time you work together, always astounded by how you manage to get him so worked up.

“I’m telling you, it’s a rugaru!”

“Right, because the last time we listened to you, things worked out so well,” you remark sardonically.

“The lore says-“

“Ooh, quoting the lore again now are we, Mr. Know It All?”

At this point, Sam is about as huffy and puffy as the big bad wolf and if he were a cartoon character, there’d surely be steam erupting from his ears. “Look, Y/N, this isn’t about who knows more or who’s right; this is about saving those people’s lives!”

“You think I don’t know that? Was I not the one who saved your life the first time we met?”

“OK, alright, just shut up you two!” Dean finally shouts above you, “Would it kill you to just get along for two seconds?”

“No,” Sam admits.

“Probably,” you say at the same time, causing Sam to shoot you his overly perfected bitch face.

SIX MONTHS LATER

“What the fuck?!” Dean’s booming voice echoes throughout the bunker and moments later you and Sam come flying into the kitchen to answer his call, guns at the ready.

“What? What is it?” you ask while Sam scans the room.

A whimper is the only the way to describe the sound of Dean’s reply, as he points toward an unseen object on the floor. Edging toward him, you lower your gun in the direction of his finger until you discover the source of Dean’s distress.

With a sigh, you look toward Sam who is also exhaling in relief at the sight of the entity in question. The two of you share a moment of wordless conversation before simultaneously dropping your guns with a conclusive nod.

“Why does this feel like déjà vu?” Dean’s tone is still timid and appalled, and you nearly laugh at the idea of a grown-ass man looking so aghast because of a used condom.

“Because it kinda is…” you supply unhelpfully, earning yourself a small glare from the man beside you.

“Dean,” Sam begins with a deep breath, “There’s something we have to tell you… Y/N and I are together.”

The snort that escapes Dean is full-bodied and borderline psychotic, “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa!”

You wait till his snickering subsides, “No, it- it’s true.” Your voice is hesitant yet hopeful, “We’re not joking. We’ve kinda become… a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, well you know, I don’t wanna have to put a label on it or-“

“Y/N’s my girlfriend,” Sam declares with conviction as he reaches out to curl his long fingers around your waist and lasso you towards him.

“-Buuuut, that is the one I’d use if anyone asks,” you quickly affirm with a stiff pat to your boyfriend’s abdomen, wincing at the unversed attempt of PDA and missing the dimpled grin that crosses Sam’s amused features.

“Well, I don’t buy it. I don’t believe either of you.” Dean’s sturgeon face comes on strong as he shakes his head and points a challenging finger at you, “Kiss him, right now,” he dares with perked brows.

The eye roll you respond with is so dramatic your entire head moves with it. But then, without a moment of pause, you turn your body into Sam’s, reach up to grab the back of his neck and pull him down for a searing kiss. Now this is something you’re well-versed in. The reunion of your lips starts off relatively slow, but it doesn’t take long to escalate into something more fiery that involves tongue, the eager push and pull movements of your bodies, and Sam’s enormous hands cradling your head.

After a moment of shock, Dean objects, “Alright, alright, I get it! That’s enough of that!”

Unwilling to recede just yet, you linger in the kiss for a little longer, delaying your separation by nibbling down on Sam’s lower lip and tugging gently, only releasing it as you pull away torturously slow. When the two of you finally open your languid eyes, it’s to stare into each other’s dilated pupils and ponder the moment for an indiscernible minute.

“What th- I said, I get it! Now could please stop ogling each other before my lunch comes back out the wrong way?!”

But the way Sam’s smiling at you is addictive and you can’t bring yourself to look away until he forces a break by leaning in to plant a tender kiss upon your forehead before tucking you into his side as he faces his brother again.

Dean’s face is covered by his hand, “I’m gonna need a minute. I just-“ His features leap through a range of expressions as he tries to find the right words, “When the hell did this start anyway? I thought you two couldn’t stand each other?”

“Yeahhh, that was mostly an act. Although we bought it at first too,” you explain with a shrug.

“We weren’t pretending the whole time. It just kind of happened and we didn’t really know how else to act around each other by then,” Sam adds.

“Right, basically it turns out there’s a fine line between love and hate... and that line is hardcore yearning.” Your words bring a chuckle to Sam’s lips but his brother still looks out of sorts.

Shaking his head with closed eyes, Dean sighs, “Alright, can someone just explain to me exactly how this happened, because I’m still not computing here. But spare me the details and try to keep it PG-13,” he emphasizes with adamant hand gestures.

“How do you know it’s not PG-13?” you inquire with a held-back laugh.

“Ha. With the way you two were playing tonsil hockey just now, I can tell you’ve been around the bend way more than I wanna know. My little brother doesn’t kiss like that on the first date.”

It’s impossible to hold back a giggle at the memory of your ‘first date’ and the way Sam had kissed you, “OK well, that would be hard, considering the story involves a lot of sex... You wanna give it a go, big guy?” you pass the ball over to Sam with a quirked brow and lowered voice, to which he responds with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, a little warning glance that you’re well aware means ‘save it for the bedroom’ but you simply smirk up at him.  

‘Big guy’ used to be a term you called Sam in contempt, but when the feelings between you evolved and a sexual relationship developed, it became an innuendo, such that calling him ‘big guy’ in front of Dean or in public almost always results in glorious sex. In fact, sometimes you believe the nickname has held a slightly obscene connotation for you since the beginning.

Afterall, your carnal longing for him has been present from day one, although at the time you had believed it to be purely physical. Sure, you had dreams about having him in various positions in your bed, but you figured those were merely betrayals of your subconscious mind. That was until one day, a heated argument in a rare moment alone had ended up in a violent make out session, after which the two of you had just barely gotten the last of your clothes back on before Dean walked in. One look at your worked up and frenetic states alongside the disordered condition of your surroundings, and he immediately assumed you’d been fighting again (which wasn’t terribly far from the truth), chortling as he asked if you would have killed each other had he returned a bit later.

With a clearing of his throat, Sam begins to recount the tale, “Uh, well it started in that motel in South Carolina, while you were out getting food…”

“Look, all I’m saying is there is no way he’s using the hospital as a dump site! It’s just not feasible!”

With complete disregard for the peace and quiet of the other residents within this thin-walled motel, you and Sam once again find yourselves in a shouting match.

“Oh right, I forgot! You’re Sam Winchester! How could you POSSIBLY be wrong?! Mister ‘look at me, my IQ and LSAT score match my fucking height! Oh and I also happen to have the physique of an Adonis without even owning a gym membership!’” you roar bitterly, gesticulating with your hands to help better communicate your pent-up indignation.

“Right and you’re Y/N Y/L/N, so how could YOU possibly be wrong? Miss ‘look at me, I never went to college but I’m a genius AND I can kick ass! Oh and I also happen to look effortlessly stunning through it all!’” Sam suddenly seems bigger than ever as he towers over you, that panty-soaking deep voice emanating from his diaphragm and infusing itself throughout the entire room until all you can see, hear, and breathe is Sam.

The fury takes over and you don’t notice your feet taking you closer to him, “Oh yeah because you don’t make EVERYTHING you do look so unnecessarily hot and make me wanna rip your clothes off all the damn time!”

“Fuck! And you don’t always drive me crazy when we have these stupid arguments and your chest starts heaving and you look so insanely delectable I just wanna pick you up and fuck you against the closest surface!” By now, the distance between you is essentially nonexistent and your brain is no longer run by reason.

“So why don’t you then?” are your famous last words, prompting Sam to grab you wildly by the back of a thigh, lifting slightly and driving you to climb up him like a spider monkey fleeing from a grounded predator, while his other hand pushes your hair aside to gain better access to your face. Your mouths clash in a fierce battle and before you know it, Sam’s huge hands are cupping your ass as your legs wrap around his waist and you rut into him, hands flying from his shoulders to his hair. Those divine chestnut locks that you’ve always dreamed of running your fingers through. They’re somehow even softer than you imagined and the revelation, in conjunction with the way Sam’s tongue is becoming increasingly aggressive causes a fresh surge of libidinous energy to rocket through you. As a result, you give his silky strands an irresistible tug and drink in the moan he makes, the sinful sound reverberating straight down to your core as you clench around nothing.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam groans as he grudgingly forces himself to pull back as much as he can, “Are you sure? Is this what you want? Cause I can’t- Y/N I won’t be able to stop myself if we keep going.” His eyes squeeze shut as if the notion of stopping or the act of keeping his lips away from yours is causing him genuine pain, and the entire gesture moves you.

“Fuck, you really are the opposite of everything I thought you would be,” you make a quick mental note to apologize later for your initially presumptuous behavior although you can’t find it within yourself to feel any remorse right now, “Yes, please Sam, fuck me. I want you so bad… I think I have since we met and I saw those gorgeous hands of yours,” you confess, biting your lip lightly.

Sam breathes out a low incredulous laugh, “What, these?” he asks, removing one of the aforementioned hands away from your butt to bring it into your line of vision.

“Yes, fuck they’re so big and beautiful and strong and-“

“Alright, I don’t need to know about your weird hand fetish!” Dean hollers abruptly, rubbing his fingers across his eyes as if he could somehow erase the image of you and his brother together out of his retinas. “OK, but that was like… four months ago. You mean you’ve been sneaking around behind my back this whole time?”

“Well at first we didn’t want to tell you because we weren’t even sure what it was ourselves,” you divulge.

“Yeah, we didn’t want to try to explain something that we didn’t understand yet,” Sam supplements, hoping his brother will understand the motive behind your secrecy.

You nod along, “But then… it got a little harder to hide.”

The apprehension behind Dean’s emerald eyes is unmistakable as he reluctantly inquires, “That’s why this felt like déjà vu?”

It’s with a grimace that you reply, hesitantly, “Remember the time you found those panties in the backseat of the Impala?”

Dean’s eyes grow comically wide and Sam ducks his head in preparation of what’s to come.

“Yeah, there’s a story behind that…”

The click of her heels against the porcelain-tiled foyer irritates you as the three of you stride through her front door. You’re posing as detectives sent to question this overdressed young woman about her late husband, but the moment she lays her eyes on Sam, you reckon she’s forgotten her beloved’s damn name.

“Oh my… lord and savior. Well aren’t you a tall drink of water?” she beholds breathlessly with a seductive bite of her painted ruby lips.

You cough loudly and Dean sniggers, thinking you’re annoyed about Sam getting such commendation and attention during a serious case.

“I know this might be the grief talking, but I would climb you like a tree,” she purrs, sauntering up to Sam with an exaggerated sway of her hips. With her half-lidded doe eyes adorned with dark, fluttery lashes and low, sultry voice, you have to admit she’s quite attractive.

Grinding your teeth as your nails dig into your palms, you glower at the woman unreservedly. She, however, takes no notice, running her hands along Sam’s forearms before gripping at his bicep to lead him toward her living room. “Please, come have a seat, detective. You can ask me whatever you want.” The wink she appends is somehow the final nail in the coffin.

It’s with zero hesitation that you feign the reception of a notification on your phone before declaring, “Oh would you look at that, the uh… Sheriff needs us back at the station, Sam. He says it’s urgent.” You try to keep your tone even, thankful that you all maintained your real first names for these aliases, “Dean, you’re good to conduct this interview on your own, right?” Without waiting for an answer, you trample over to snatch Sam’s other arm and ignoring the horny widow’s gaping mouth, proceed to haul him away.

Dean sends you a strange look but relents, “Uh, yeah I guess, OK.”

As soon as the door closes behind you, your hand shifts down to lace your fingers with Sam’s, marching him towards the Impala with a staunch and mighty purpose. Even Sam’s elongated legs stumble to keep up.

“So uh… when did you give the Sheriff your number?” There’s an edge in his voice that normally disappears when it’s just the two of you.

“Wha- I didn’t. Sam, I just made all that up,” you tell him as you reach the car and open its back door. Pushing Sam inside, you climb in swiftly after him, wasting no time as you straddle his thighs and begin to undress him, only pausing when he looks up at you in adorable, puppy-like confusion.

“Wait, what? Then what are we doing?”

That’s when it finally dawns on you, “Hold on a sec, were you… jealous?” You can’t help but smile, finding it amusing that he’s stewing in his own envy after what you just witnessed.

“No, I just- He was kinda all over you this morning.”

“You mean like the way Mrs. My-Husband-Just-Died-But-I-Wanna-Climb-You-Like-a-Tree was in there?”

“Oh, that’s what this is about?” Sam perks up, the hint of a smug grin ghosting across his lips.

“She was practically holding your hand!”

“That’s what bothered you the most?” He dips his head to catch your eyes and those variegated irises burn into you with an intense, questioning gaze, alight with mischievous curiosity.

“They’re my hands to hold,” you contend with a pout, subconsciously clenching your thighs around his as you seize one of his large hands with two of your much smaller ones, “Just like you’re my tree to climb.”

Sam’s head falls back in bright laughter, “I thought you said they were ‘oversized’ and ‘ungainly’?” he teases, quoting your previous slights.

“You know I only said that cause Dean was there.”

“I’m pretty sure you called them ‘fumbly’ and ‘lumbering’ the first time we met.”

Staring at his fingers as you play with them, you shiver at the memory of how they feel all over you. “That was cause I used to think all hunters with a Y chromosome were cocky, misogynistic assholes who needed to be knocked down a peg or two.”

“But I proved you wrong, right?”

“Fuck yes you did. So, so wrong. And now you’re mine, and I don’t like seeing other people touch what’s mine,” you growl before returning to your earlier task of removing his clothes, pouncing on him when your fingers finally land on bare skin. You kiss him fiercely, swallowing his surprised grunts with glee, and as his hands start travelling from your hips up to your back, holding you tight against him, your lips move down to his pulse point, sucking, licking, and nibbling, “Mine.”

“Fucking Jesus Christ on a cracker! You goddamn rabbits!” Dean squawks in protest as he begins to pace the floor, “Have you no decency?! And in my poor Baby! While I was busy doing all the work, saving lives!”

You roll your eyes at his melodramatics and can feel the tension in Sam’s abdominal muscles as he attempts to restrain his laughter. As if Dean had never taken a break during a case for a stress-relieving quickie before, or hadn’t been at least somewhat grateful to be left alone with a beautiful woman.

His next comment confirms your point, “Although, if I remember correctly that lady was a fox.” After a brief pondering pause and an introspectively appreciative smirk, Dean’s whining resumes, “But seriously! I can’t believe you two! Here I was feeling bad for forcing you to work and live together, hoping you’d eventually learn to get along when this whole time you were shacking up like animals and casually defiling my Baby just because what? Some girl touched Sam’s hand?!”

Feeling emboldened by the catharsis of this long-overdue airing of your dirty laundry, you decide to add to Dean’s exasperation, “Yeah and in the spirit of honesty, that might’ve happened more than once.” Sam tries to hold back his snort as he gives your hip a playful cautionary squeeze while Dean’s feet come to a full stop as he turns to give you a death glare. “Hey, it’s not my fault all the pretty girls like Samuel! And I’m pretty sure we wiped her down after.”

“I don’t even-“ Dean purses his lips and quirks his head with a dynamic expression of unbearable vexation, “You better be getting me pie every day of the week for what you did.“ He takes a deep breath before circling back, “Wait, OK so you’re telling me that a used condom ended up in our kitchen because- what? You two couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to find a bed? You know what, forget I asked. I don’t wanna know. Did you at least sanitize the place after?? No, of course you didn’t, you left a fucking condom on the floor… I think I’m gonna throw up.”

But you hardly hear Dean’s rambling because you and Sam are far too wrapped up in each other, smiling as you recall the events of that morning.

Your eyes slowly drift open to find the most exalting sight in all the world: Sam Winchester’s sleeping face, blissful and serene. Lifting a hand to gingerly cup his cheek, the corners of your mouth curl up when he leans into your touch. It’s moments like this that make you wish you could wake up next to him every morning.

Only after you’ve traced his every feature and planted a soft kiss where his dimple would be if he were awake and smiling, do you carefully peel yourself from his side, slipping out of his hold as you quietly climb out of bed. Sam rolls over a bit and you freeze with bated breath, watching as his big arm extends out in your direction as if trying to reach for you in his sleep, before stilling again.

Mornings like this are rare and you want him to soak up all the restful sleep he can. Once you’re sure you haven’t woken him, you scan the room for something to cover your naked figure, until your eyes land on the flannel he’d worn the night before. Picking it up, you bring it to your nose and inhale deeply to revel in the residual scent of Sam. Another glimpse at his peaceful, sleeping form has you smiling fondly. God, you are such a goner for that man. It’s becoming hard to reserve your soft looks toward him for private moments alone.

You can barely remember how it happened, but over time, you’d come to learn that Sam is nothing like you originally imagined him to be. He’s kind-hearted and open-minded, the type of soul that can find hope and beauty in even the darkest of places, a far cry from the shallow macho man silhouette you’d expected him to fill. In fact, Sam routinely defies the expectations others have enforced upon him, proving his worth time and time again as he’s persisted through some of what must be the toughest challenges to ever face a single human. Yet through it all, his spirit remains intact, never once yielding to cynicism or resentment or apathy or even the building of walls as you and Dean have resorted to. He is truly the bravest man you know and infinitely more competent than your first fluke of a hunt with him had mistakenly suggested, both in the field and in bed.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you wrap yourself in plaid and head out the door. Dean never questions your use of Sam’s shirts because ever since Sam firmly insisted on giving you his flannel after your second encounter with them resulted in Dean cutting your own top apart, you’ve grown into a habit of borrowing Sam’s clothes. You always claim they’re more comfortable than your own and Sam’s feigned annoyance over you ‘stealing’ his belongings tides Dean right over.

Half an hour passes before Sam approaches the bunker kitchen to find you with your back towards the entrance, busy prepping breakfast in nothing but his plaid. He pauses in the doorway to stare at you for a minute, licking his lips with an irrepressible smile. For some, this may seem like a stereotypical morning after, but for a couple of hunters, it feels like a dream come true.

After finally returning to the bunker last night following the completion of a series of successful hunts, you’ve got no solid obligations and very little on your to-do lists today, although Sam’s got more than a few ideas about how to pass the time, and a couple more come to mind when you stretch up on your toes to reach for something, causing the hem of his shirt to glide up until its corner reveals just slightest hint of your incredible ass. Sam can’t suppress his little grunt of approval, which catches your attention and makes you turn your head, peering back at him over your shoulder.

You smirk at the blessed view of him standing there in nothing but the pair of thin grey sweatpants you’d bought him a month ago when you discovered the viral online phenomenon, “Hey, big guy. You just gonna stand there and gawk or do you wanna make yourself useful and grab another plate from the top shelf?”

Chuckling at your false animosity, Sam stalks toward you, “Good morning to you too.” One of his vast hands falls upon your hip as he presses the maximum possible length of his body into your back side, while his other hand reaches up over your head to snatch the plate you’d asked for.

“Good morning indeed,” you concur with a silent gasp when you feel the generous bulge in his pants.

“Oh that’s not morning, baby girl,” Sam husks into your ear, “That’s all you.” His powerful arms slink around you and his lips find their way down the side of your neck, lingering in that tender spot just behind your ear whilst you tilt your head and close your eyes, contentedly surrendering yourself to the moment. “I ever tell you how good you look in my shirts?”

Wiggling your butt back to tease him a bit, you’re pleased with the hiss it elicits. “No, but you made it very clear how bad I look in Dean’s,” you counter playfully.

The man behind you scoffs, “I didn’t say you looked bad; you could never look bad. I just… don’t like seeing you wear his clothes.”

“Oh, I know,” you turn around in his arms, “I just don’t understand how Dean doesn’t know yet. I mean, I think you’ve been very obvious.”

“And you haven’t?”

“I’m not the one who leaves hickeys in very visible places all over your body!”

Sam’s eyes glaze over in lust, an idea clearly forming in his head as he glances down at you. “Dean’s a hot-blooded guy; he needs to know you’re off-limits,” he alleges before attacking your throat with his mouth.

“So why don’t we just tell him?”

Without pausing his efforts, Sam reminds you, “Because you said you thought it was kinda hot, all the sneaking around. Mmpf, and because you said you wanted to see how long it would take him to figure it out.”

You nod while running your fingers through his silken strands and leaning back to give him more purchase, “That’s true. But in my defence, we always have this conversation when we’re doing stuff like this and I can’t think straight when your hands and mouth are on me.”

“Kinda like how I can’t think straight when you’re wearing nothing but my shirt?” His kisses travel down from your neck to your collarbone and shoulder as he slides his loosely buttoned flannel off to one side, “Fuck, you’ve got me so hard.”

Without warning, Sam seizes your waist and hoists you into the air as if gravity were an absolute joke, before plopping you down on the edge of the steel counter, his thumbs digging lightly into your ribcage.

“Sam! This is where we eat!” you protest with a laugh.

“Exactly. Which is why I’m gonna devour you here.” He dives back into your neck, continuing his work on a little pink mark that’s already beginning to form.

“Oh fuck… Wait, what if Dean walks in?” It’s through a great struggle that you manage to push him back an inch.

“He’s got a date with the Impala. He’ll be in the garage all day, trust me.” Sam’s gaze sweeps over your body suggestively, “Now are you gonna let me taste what’s mine?”

With an equally lewd survey of his extensive frame, you reply, “As long as you let me impale myself on what’s mine later.”

His eyes darken and the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only person he’s ever wanted ignites a confidence within you, so in a rather swift motion, you grasp him by the shaft through his sweatpants – the delicious groan he emits at your touch is enough to turn your pussy into a slip and slide – and pull him back towards you until the clothed length of him is resting against your folds and your noses brush, while his hands settle naturally on your thighs.

Shivering, your breath stutters and for an instant you can do nothing but bask in the closeness of him. Sam seems to enjoy it too because he closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours with an elated sigh. For the second time today, you marvel at his beauty, whispering a string of gasping kisses along his lower eye socket and exquisite cheekbone, simply dying to breathe him in. All of him is so immaculate and sublime. Each time the two of you reconvene, you want to savor every fucking inch of him, but there are a lot of inches, so the task often overwhelms you. Still, you must try. Locking your ankles behind him, you use your legs to pull him even further into you and the friction makes you lose your mind.

“Fuck, baby girl, you keep that up I’ll be making a mess in my pants,” Sam grunts with his lips upon your cheek.

Your breathless laughter fills the air, thinking of the stain you've undoubtedly already left on his charming grey sweatpants. Nimble as he is, Sam takes advantage of your open mouth and plunges his tongue inside. After so much preamble, the kiss is heavy and full of need. When the pressure of his lips pushes your head back, your hands fly to his wrists for the sake of your balance.

From there, they journey upward across his vascular forearms to his bulging triceps, fondling his massive shoulders before sliding along his traps and up the gorgeous length of his perfect neck, until you finally reach the treasure trove of his impeccable locks. You tangle your fingers into the lush mane and yank, gently but zealously, making Sam growl into your mouth. His voice is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard and the sounds he makes always drive you insane.

Never breaking the kiss, Sam’s colossal moose paws roam up to your back as he slowly lays you down on the counter, his member somehow still notched at your entrance and the new angle rousing a quiet moan from you. When he ultimately pulls away, you pitch forward to chase after his lips, but Sam only grants you a devilish grin and a quick peck to the corner of your mouth before moving down to your jaw and neck. While one palm kneads at your breast through his shirt, the other begins pushing and pulling at fabric to uncover more of your skin for his wandering lips.

“Sam! Augh!” you cry out as your head falls back.

“I got you, baby. I’m all yours. Gonna make you feel so good.” As if to attest his words, he rolls his hips into yours and a needy whimper escapes you. With your fingers still twisted in his hair, Sam leaves no part of you untouched as his mouth travels down your body. But upon reaching your navel, he pauses, those vivid, color-changing eyes peeping up at you to check for any signs of discomfort or objection. Finding none, his thick tongue pokes out to lick a deliriously winding path from your belly button to your exposed clit. Then, pushing down tenderly on the insides of your knees to open you up to him, Sam directs you one last look that is both hungry and reverent, “I still can’t believe this is mine.”

Dean had stopped you halfway through your recollection, but it appears that was still too much for him, “What did I do to deserve this?! I feel like I need to go bathe in holy water for a week.”

You and Sam both open your mouths to respond but Dean cuts you off vehemently, “Ba-da-da-da!” His vocalized outcry is complete with animated gestures featuring an accusing index finger. “OK, before you two tell me another traumatizing story, that’s enough of the who, what, when, where, and how… I just need to know why. I mean, is this- are you- …?”

Sensing the protective wheels turning in his head, you decide to put Dean out his misery, “I’m not just with Sam because he’s an incredible lay if that’s what you’re wondering. We can skip the fatherly ‘what are your intentions’ talk. Yes, Dean, I am in love with your little brother… although ‘little’ is not exactly the word I’d use to describe him.”

“Sammy, could you please control your woman?”

“My woman?” Sam sounds mostly amused but you’re almost certain you can hear a hint of pride in his voice.

“Yeah, I admit I’m surprised I didn’t see it until now. You two are kinda oddly perfect for each other, you know, in a weird, kinky way.”

“To be honest, we’re pretty surprised too. I mean, he doesn’t look it but this guy is kind of territorial,” you quip whilst cocking a thumb in Sam’s direction.

“I don’t need to- Wait a minute, so all those bruises you told me were from hunts?” Dean’s eyebrows soar towards his hairline.

Chewing on your lip, you confirm his hypothesis with a miniscule nod.

“Yeah well that time you saw my back,” Sam chimes in vengefully, casting you a handsome grin full of mischief as he reveals, “that wasn’t a werewolf, that was Y/N.”

With eyes as round as dinner plates, Dean frantically shuts you both down, “OK, that’s it. Torture Dean time is over. I don’t wanna hear any more about your depraved sex lives! Look, I guess I’m happy for you guys, although mostly cause I don’t have to play referee anymore, but I’m gonna need you to follow some ground rules around here. Like rule number one! No sex in public places!” he starts counting with his fingers, “Always put a sock on it when you’re busy! And most importantly, no sex in Baby!”

Your laughter follows Dean as he wearily saunters out of the kitchen, an exhausted expression on his face. Turning to your newly outed boyfriend, you petition excitedly, “Does this mean we can have shower sex now?”

“Not while I’m around!” comes Dean’s snappy answer.

In contrast, Sam gives you the same look he did on that dreamy morning, “Oh trust me baby girl, I’m gonna get you wet somehow.”

“Still within hearing distance! I think I liked it better when you guys were at each other’s throats.”

As you’re giggling, Sam leans down to whisper in your ear, “For the record, I’m in love with you too.” And just like that, you’re tempted to re-enact your previous kitchen escapades.

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TEAM MOOSE: @paulaern​

if you’d like to be added (or removed) please let me know!

[arhvste]

can i request kuroo, tsukishima and yamaguchi taking care of their fem s/o (or just s/o if that’s better 4 u) who’s on their period?

omg a rare yams request i hardly ever get requested to write about him !! 🤠����

-

KUROO, TSUKISHIMA AND YAMAGUCHI TAKING CARE OF THEIR S/O WHO’S ON THEIR PERIOD

KUROO

kuroo is a big softie periodt

but he will tease you often all in good fun though

being on your period doesn’t give you a pass to be an exception from being teased

“aw your cramps hurt? now you’ll know how i feel when you kick me in the ba-”

“-shUT UP!!!!”

he is also a simp for you

will do anything you ask of him

but he will get some fun irritating you a little out of it

“can you get me some water?”

“i don't know can i? ~”

always does what you ask in the end though

cuddle sessions are immaculate

he wraps his strong arms around your smaller frame and coos you to sleep

science boy also knows the appropriate medicine you may need if the pain is particularly intolerable

and he is responsible so he will be checking you every so often to make sure you’re keeping hydrated and sanitary and will help you if you need it

this man also knows the rights pads to get you now

the first time he asked you to buy them he struggled having to call you so you could guide him in the shop

the guy watching the cctv in the shop watching your boyfriend pick up various packets and smell them?? 👁👄👁

“idk babe these look a little big, your pussy isn't that big?”

“they're nighttime ones kuroo they're bigger than regular ones.”

“i have to buy different ones for night???? 🤯”

part of me feels like kuroo can cook

but a part of me still wouldn't want to eat the food he makes

it’s a hit or miss when he cooks

but he will put extra care when he cooks to make sure the food has at least some flavour to it when he’s cooking for you

will feed you despite your protests

“say ahhh~”

will sit through and watch whatever you want even if it isn’t his thing

expect lots of forehead kisses and long cuddles

he will try and be with you for majority of the time it lasts.

“and that's on period!”

“tetsu do you ever stop talking?”

overall he would be a great and understanding boyfriend throughout your period

he will defiantly provoke you a little too much sometimes so don’t be afraid to put this boy back in his place.

-

TSUKISHIMA

“drop the attitude you on your period or something?”

he would be so rude when you first come into school while in a bad mood swing

when you tell him you are in fact on your period he's like

“oh. 😐”

“good luck with that one i guess”

you would throw him death glare and he’d begrudgingly support you

tuski has a short temper and this week so do you

y’all really mixing fire with fire huh

he can’t keep up with the rapid mood swings though

one minute you’re threatening to take tuski out the same way the meteor took out the dinosaurs

and the next you’re crying and all over him professing your love for him

the whole time he sits there like 🤨����

head pats

he will pat your head because he knows it calms you down

but when you’re alone he will give you cuddles and give you soft little pecks

just harass him a little

a secret simp

i feel like tsukishima can cook a little

not particularly known for good cooking but it’s good enough to enjoy sometimes

will cook for you but will not spoon feed you

“what are you some sort of baby?”

“im your baby 😠”

“i would never give birth to something so ugly”

this boy knows the average amount about pads

just tell him which ones you want exactly and he’ll get them

he will make a slight fuss though

he doesn't want to be seen by anyone buying “lady diapers” as he calls them

does it regardless though because believe it or not he does love you

likes playing with your hair while you two are resting on your bed

he has long fingers 👀

he knows how to use them

his long fingers weaving in and out of your hair

immaculate

he will take good care of you

you just have to whine and threaten a little

he acts like he doesn't want to look after you

but i know this boy secretly loves looking after you

he would never say it out loud though or make it obvious

-

YAMAGUCHI

you are his first ever girlfriend

you have all his firsts

and that includes his first experience with periods

at first he freaks out when you explain what is happening

“bLOOD??!!!!”

“yes blood 😀”

“SHALL I CALL AN AMBULANCE???!!!!”

it takes him a little while to understand it

he treats you like you’re so fragile not wanting you to be hurt

this boy does EVERYTHING for you

even to the point where he’s willing to write all your notes in class for him

“tadashi baby i can still write”

“just in case let me do it”

i feel like he’s like one of those parents that have the fat baby bag filled with everything the baby could need that they carry around for their new child

he has a whole convenience store in his bag for you

your favourite snacks? left pocket of his bag

extra pads? right pocket near the top

water? centre pocket

an extra pair of leggings? rolled up near the bottom

he is going to be such a great dad one day i can feel it in my bones

by now you’ve been together for a while so he’s used to your periods now

he is ceo of good boyfriend

is a simp and isn’t afraid to show it 😼

such a king

will make sure you’re as comfortable as you can possibly be wherever you are

likes to take care of you at home though

thinks seeing you in comfy clothes at home is one of the cutest things

he can braid hair well

will braid your hair to keep it out your face

will get you anything and everything you ask for

i know this boy can cook

he screams responsible chef

will absolutely make sure the food is at your preferred temp and will spoon feed you if you ask

will gladly watch whatever you want

and his cuddles

bro they’re the best

he is so warm and soft

he will absolutely sing you to sleep

did y’all hear his angelic voice in the christmas carol audio??

voice is sent from the heavens

overall he is 43684637864/10 boyfriend while you’re on your period

you are his everything and would gladly bring you all the stars and moon if you ask

happy and comfortable y/n = happy and relieved yams

-

requests are open!!

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | A MYSTERIOUS INTERLUDE

first time reader click here

This is a scrapped chapter. Originally, I was planning to 1) give Reader a longer, more intense destructive streak before her ending up with Tony. I planned three or so chapters that involved an abusive Quentin Beck, but, ultimately decided that to be too cliché. 2) I had planned to write at least 30% of the fanfic in Tony's/third person POV. This chapter would have been number 11/12 - Tony would have rejected her advances in the lab & she would have got hooked on Beck's charming facade.

Why am I publishing this? It seems like a waste if effort to shelf it, plus, it's Tony's POV. You can skip it since it has no relation/bearing on the current story. Just a tiny "what might have been" tidbit.

It was a moment's notice. One second, they're standing in a group, laughing, soaking in the warmth from the fireplace, chattering amongst themselves, telling tall tales and sipping their liquor. It all goes black briefly, and then they are surrounded by darkness - it's nearly impenetrable, so thick that their voices echo in it.

Tony's body was encompassed by the nanotech suit immediately after his eyes and his brain adjusted to the rapid change of surroundings. His teammates, too, had their skills honed on an instinctive level - the faint thump of Mjölnir in Thor's hands, the golden-green glow of his brother's magic, whirring of Barnes' prosthetic arm. Steve's shield stayed tucked behind the living room couch but his enhanced physique and readiness to fight 24/7 has him covering the unenhanced Clint and Natasha in mere seconds.

Tony was mostly angry rather than afraid. The team was having a good time at his party and the chance encounters of weird shit like this had been reduced to nearly zero percent possibility thanks to Friday's screening process: supervillains, Hydra agents and the likes strictly prohibited on Stark-owned premises.

It was a strange coincidence Banner had to take a break to check up on one of his experiments not even five minutes before the rest of the team was experiencing the strange change in scenery. Speaking of Strange, the sorcerer also was nowhere to be seen - Tony distinctively remembered seeing Stephen ten feet away from the bar, engaged in a hearty debate with the lead of SI's Medical Engineering department.

"This is not magic," Wanda piped up from behind him, confused. "I don't feel anything on the usual frequency. It sounds more like Friday humming in the walls, like electricity."

Good to know, Tony thought. It was nice having someone who was familiar with the undiscovered side of science - after all, Tony had always considered anything 'magical' to be science he had not personally understood yet. Wanda's most redeeming quality in Tony's eyes was the fact that more often than not she seemed to be as clueless as everyone else when it came to her powers and didn't act so high and mighty as some other people. Cloaked people, and horned people, for example.

"The fuck, man? I was hoping, just one evening, one normal evening with my beer and wings," Clint whined. Tony could hear Natasha huffing in annoyed agreement.

"Mr. Stark, what are we going to do?" His very own spider-child, on the other hand, sounded distraught. Peter's voice has this funny thing it does when the boy is upset but tries to hide it: it quivers on the vowels, wobbles slightly.

Tony had to blindly grope the air for a moment before his arm found Peter's shoulder. The boy was shivering and took the offered comfort eagerly, folding into the older man.

"Okay, whoever is pulling this stunt, my advice is: don't," Tony sighed, 12 000% Done With This Shit™, exclaiming loudly. "If that's a prank, stop it or speak up. If you got beef, then you got some nerve doing this in my tower. Show yourself."

He could feel the fine hairs on his neck stand up as the team tensed next to him, readily gearing up to pounce. Peter was vibrating in Tony's arms and the billionaire suddenly remembered the curious side-effects of Peter's powers, the spidey-sense. It must have been going absolutely haywire - the kid nearly hyperventilated himself into a heart attack.

"Stark, I must apologise for the uncomfortable circumstances. Believe me, it was a necessity - you always demand attention, whereas I need people to pay attention to me for a moment. Don't worry, you'll get yours when the time is due."

The voice was vaguely familiar. Male, slightly nasal but quiet and creeping. Insinuating. It lacked the usual boisterous bravado of a mid-grade bad guy, Tony had to take an educated guess that the owner of the mysterious voice was well-off, white. Privileged. No hint of desperation in it, as if the man was pitying everybody.

"The fuck? Q, is that you?"

Oh shit, Tony realized in muted horror. She must've been hanging around somewhere in their vicinity - which wasn't unusual, the girl usually orbited around Barnes, Wanda, Peter or Bruce. All of whom were present at the party. Tony had forgotten about her, to his shame, somehow having had automatically assumed she trotted out of the room on Bruce's heels. His science bro and her acted like conjoined twins when it came to their scientific ventures.

"Stop talking," The man growled, the voice suddenly coming from a very different direction. Tony heard a distinctively feminine yelp, albeit muffled. Peter violently jerked in Tony's arms. The engineer put the superstrength of his suit to use, holding the teenager down.

"Aw, hell no!" She yelled, the indignant shrieking followed by the sound of a moist palm slapping something glass...y? "What the fuck? I am asking you again. Are you... Oh my God, are you wearing a fishbowl on your head? Ow, motherfu-" The rest of the sentence is muffled, garbled. Whoever this "Q" was, she obviously knew him and he had silenced her. And, apparently, Q had an uncanny choice of headwear.

Tony was sure the rest of the team had followed his lead on doing a spit-take. They've fought enough supervillains with more than questionable fashion sense but a fishbowl? That was new.

"Be quiet, baby. It's for your own good. I don't want to hurt you if I can help it," The Fishbowl chastised her.

Tony's confusion once again returned to irritation at the frivolous way the villain addressed his science buddy. Peter's friend would have been more accurate but Tony had put her into the 'science bro' category not too long ago. They were close, as much as they could be, with the age gap and totally different interests and... The immense amount of guilt Tony felt for his attraction towards the girl. He was a dirty old man and she was barely an adult.

Every damn day Tony did his best to avoid making a shiny, big, new problem. Yet her brains and her wit and the uncanny ability to pull anybody into a conversation had a firm hold on his attention.

"Leave her alone," Stark angrily declared, powering up a repulsor. "What do you want? Party crashing isn't allowed in my tower anymore."

"What I want, Stark, is for you to give credit where it's due," The man answered simply, giving Tony just enough time to shove Peter behind him towards Natasha and take a tentative step forward.

The soft glow emanating from the repulsor illuminated barely two inches around his hand. The darkness surrounding it seemed to swallow the light. Tony moved on quiet feet towards the voice, easily avoiding furniture. His memory was good and he knew his tower, his home, better than anyone else.

"Did I hear that correctly, you're accusing me of plagiarism?" Tony tried for indignant, hoping to provoke the man into an inevitable, drawn-out speech where he lists all the wrongs Tony ever did him, giving the team precious time to regroup and form some semblance of a plan.

"Yes," Q simply answered, pausing for a second. "I hope you enjoy your next adventure. It certainly will show you the potential of my creation."

Tony shared a muted sound of confusion with the rest of the team.

"Q, I am very disappointed," To Tony's horror, th girl stared talking again. She sounded somewhat breathless, and closer to him than before. "Stop it with the dick measuring contest, you're a grown ass man. Go work for OsCorp, or Hammer, drink your sorrows away." She sounded so tired. And even closer to him.

"This is not a dick measuring contest!" Q roared suddenly and wow, that man was unstable. "This was my life's work, my creation, he insulted, berated and threw away!"

"I get it, I really get the whole 'being discarded and thrown away' thing," She replied, somewhat sarcastically. "But you know what? I'll be damned and I'll be fucked if I give some piece of shit any more of my undivided attention. They don't want me? Fine, they can fuck off and take their complaints with them." Her speech was periodically interrupted by shuffling noises.

Tony didn't dare to interrupt, seeing now the possibility of Q being actually calmed down by a teenager (probably) quoting some teen drama TV show.

"But going full Joker? You're a brilliant man, Quen, I wouldn't even look at you twice if not for your brains and your baby blues, however I don't fuck with the bad guys. That shit kills," The hand that rested on the wrist cuff of Tony's suit unmistakably belonged to her. She had the remnants of some sort of wire around it, sleek and quicksilver-shiny, irritating the tender skin under it. "And I want to live. You've gone and pissed off an entire crew of supers and I don't know what to do. I don't know what to think, Quen," There was genuine sadness in her voice.

Tony stood silent in confusion.

Whoever this Quen was, they obviously shared a close relationship. Tony's brain ran through the list of her friends, her relatives - there was nobody named Q, Quen or even remotely similar. Natasha had mentioned a possible boyfriend at some point but the man sounded too old for that, he was at least thirty. Or maybe? Tony wouldn't put it completely past the girl, if judging by the blatant way she flirted with Bruce. With himself.

"Baby, this is not about you. I don't want to hurt you," Quen replied, a hysterical edge to his voice. Something began flickering in the distance, attracting Tony's attention to the shape of a man with a round sort of helmet and a red, billowing cape (hello, 2012-Thor!).

"Too late, Quen. You've tied me up and you went on to attack my friends. I've already told you that if you yell at me one more time, I will leave you. So I guess this is it," Her voice broke at the end, pitiful sniffles following the statement.

Tony watched the exchange, mildly uncomfortable and very concerned. The man yelled at her? That was absolutely unacceptable, however, what else could one expect from a maniac with a flair for the dramatic?

The girl bodily placed herself in front of Tony, standing, doing nothing but rubbing her wrists. It was then that the engineer noticed Q nearing them, the shape becoming distinctively closer. And - yep, there it was - the fishbowl on his head. It completely obscured him, making his face invisible, unrecognisable.

The man seemed rather fixated on the girl standing in front of Tony. He floated in front of her, ignoring Tony, taking her bound hands in his own. A brief click and a hiss later, her wrists were released and the contraption fell freely to the floor where it landed with an oddly heavy thud. Tony hoped there was no lead in that thing - supervillains were dangerous but lead poisoning was cancerous and fatal.

"Baby..." Quen timidly touched her face with a leather-bound glove. "I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm sorry." Tony took the chance to examine the man's costume. If anything, it looked somewhat steampunk-y? There was a lot of bronze, and the chest brace had some sort of glowing lines on it. Power storage units?

She stared up, towards the man's hidden face. "M'sorry, Quen," She mumbled, going in for a hug. Or that's what Tony thought. The majestic cape that billowed behind Quen was unceremoniously yanked from his body as the girl ducked, covering herself with it, yelling: "TONY, NOW, SHOOT, SHOOT!"

Tony did just that, shot Quen flat in the chest and the man stumbled backwards, tripping on the cape - such a stupid, unexpected thing. But Tony knew, his girl was clever and resourceful. Pride swelled in his chest as he shot the man again, Rogers running out from behind him blindly, body-slamming Quen into the ground for good measure. Two hundred pounds of supersoldier later, the battle was over before it even started.

"No!" The villain shouted as Steve pressed and popped the hilarious glass contraption on his head. The accessory was no match for the Captain's super strength. Tony immediately recognised the man as his former employee, Quentin Beck, and it clicked for him. It was totally a personal vendetta.

"This stuff is tough, plexiglass, maybe," The Captain remarked, pointing at the scattered shards around Beck's head. "It appears to be augmented too, some kind of tech, I don't know. You're good at this, Tony," Steve chuckled humorlessly, roughly turning Beck around and securing his hands with a pair of vibranium-reinforced handcuffs. God only knew where he'd gotten those from.

"Good at what? Making enemies?" Stark couldn't resist the self-depricating joke.

"Stop it, Tony," Natasha's gently admonishing voice interrupted Steve's incoming lecture. Tony, for once, was thankful that the Widow interrupted. He was in no mood to listen to another one of Steve's speeches.

"Who do you work for?" That deadly gleam in Natasha's eyes was terrifying and Beck was only a man.

"I don't work for anyone but myself, thanks to Stark," He spat venomously.

Natasha cocked an eyebrow in Tony's direction.

"Fired him years ago, this guy was going nuts. Brilliant but crazier than a bag of cats," Tony replied, feigning nonchalance. He could feel a mild headache begin to gnaw at his skull. "We worked on a project together, he got upset that I refused to weaponize it. We had a falling out. End of story." With that, Tony stood up, retracing his suit to only leave the gauntlets on his hands, gathered the various pieces of tech the good captain had removed from Beck's persona and made way towards the nearest table.

Or where he thought it was. All of them were still surrounded by the uncanny darkness. The anxiety that Tony forcefully shut down reared it's ugly head as soon as he lost physical touch with his teammates. He stumbled, his foot catching onto something on the ground.

"Ow, motherfucker!"

"Buttercup, I haven't fucked your mother nor I plan to," He snarked back automatically, flooded with relief at the sound of the familiar voice.

"Hope so. She'd probably bite your dick off if you try," A hand was groping his calf and then she stood up in front of him, still clutching the ridiculous cape. It appeared to be a source of light, which was very strange. The girl looked positively demonic, illuminated by red light, face scrunched up, eyes puffy, and clothing in disarray.

"You good?" Tony managed to choke out, confusion and worry and anxiety making his chest tight.

"Balmy. My boyfriend is a homicidal maniac with an inferiority complex," She sassed, an edge of panic to her voice. "Oh, and he tried to kill one of my best friends. I am fine and dandy."

"Your boyfriend?" That was the only thing Tony heard. Bat-shit crazy Beck, his babygirl's boyfriend? There was no way in Hell he'd allow such a thing...

"My ex-boyfriend, I guess," She sighed, removing the cape from her persona. Refusing to meet his eyes, fiddling with the hem of her top. "Here," The girl abruptly thrust the cape at him. "This is a funny thing, it's like a hologram but you can actually touch it. You should, uh, probably disinfect it, or something. I've been on-uh, around it many times," It was so unlike her, the fumbling, the embarrassment, Tony wanted to wheel her straight to medical to check if she's gotten concussed again.

Then his brain caught up and all he saw was red. Figuratively and literally - the cape was still in his face, loosely hanging from her outstretched hand. She must've seen the look on his face.

The step she took back was quick and worrying. "Forget I said that, I don't know why I said that. Oh, god."

"What were you thinking?" Tony inhaled a solid lungful, prepared to make his opinion very clear. "Getting involved with a lunatic! For a second I actually thought you were smart, there isn't a chance you missed that the guy is short of a few marbles," His voice was quiet, the one of a calm fury. His words cut deeply and he could see the hurt, the shame in her eyes, on her face. Tony knew he'd regret it later however his brain insisted it was a necessary evil. He continued ranting until he ran out of breath. "Not to mention he's, what, twice your age? And he yells at you and tells you to shut up? It didn't ring any alarm bells in that pretty little head of yours?"

"Tony, stop," Steve's hand landed on the engineer's shoulder and he simply shrugged it off, staring at the quivering girl in front of him.

She was crying, silently, few tears pooling in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks, leaving ugly streaks in her make-up. Tony expected her to sass him, to argue back, to yell obscenities like she usually did when something or someone upset her but he was met with hurt, stunned silence. His worst fear came true when she looked away, shrugging.

He'd seen this sort of dejected shrug the time her father drugged her and... She just took it. She expected it, even, his outrage, his disappointment. Being hurt and mistreated was the norm for her, Tony realized belatedly. There were too many parallels between them both that made him uncomfortable deep inside. His chest felt tight, regret washing over him like a tsunami wave.

"I'm turning on the lights, close your eyes for maximum comfort," Strange's voice announced suddenly, causing everybody to jump and shudder. Tony complied begrudgingly. The sudden influx of light was painful even from behind closed eyelids. His headache became a full-on dull throb.

"What happened?" "Are you okay?" "Is everybody alive?" Resonated across the room. Tony spied several small drones smoking and crackling next to the exit door, Stephen Strange closing a portal he must've used to evacuate the civilians.

The puddle of red holographic cape on the floor. And her hastily retreating back. Damn.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

[autumnblogs]

Day 3: Vendetta against Bro

Welcome back to more Homestuck Liveblogging. Picking up with Nannasprite as she prepares to give John the Dirt.

https://homestuck.com/story/421

Sburb’s opening move is to take John’s Dad away from him. If @mmmmalo​‘s theory about psychological storytelling is to be believed, Sburb provokes fear and then manifests it in the form of a character’s antagonists. If you wonder why I bring them up so much, it’s probably because I’ve been reading their blog lately. I am almost always game for more Homestuck theorization, and would love to be able to reference more people and engage with their thoughts in my theoryposts and liveblogging, so if you know somebody with good takes, please pass them along my way.

The Incipisphere, like John’s name, was invoked into existence by player/character action, but paradoxically, has always been that way. By engaging with Sburb, John authenticates its retroactive existence, like a mailman taking a signature of receipt for a package.

When we engage with the fixtures of our cultures and material realities, we too, authenticate them. This can be good or bad - when we communicate with each other, recognize each other, we authenticate each other too. Observing and being observed is a mutual act of validation for everyone involved. I see you seeing me seeing you.

I’m full of horseshit again. Read some more horseshit after the break.

Content Warning for this one: Pedophilia Mentions.

https://homestuck.com/story/422

There’s a lot to unpack in this sequence of pages, and I’m almost certainly going to miss a lot of it, but I’ll come back to stuff that I miss as it comes back up in later pages.

As a Crucible of Unlimited Potential, Skaia can become absolutely anything, and the shape that it will take on will be influenced by the actions of the players. But it isn’t anything yet. 

This is the second time in two pages that Nanna has brought up the light-darkness dichotomy of the forces at play in the Medium, and after just talking about the act of mutual authentication through mutual observation, my brain is screaming the words Hegelian Lens at me. Might go somewhere with that too.

I also wanna call attention to the name of the Medium. As a story about stories, it only makes sense that the name of Homestuck’s main otherworld should evoke the field used to propagate mass communication.

https://homestuck.com/story/423

I’ve always thought that it’s interesting that of the two forces in the Medium, the players have natural allies in the form of Prospit. The choice here is not to act on behalf of one or the other, the choice is between Action and Inaction. Not doing something is itself, doing something.

https://homestuck.com/story/427

You Can (Not) Redo.

Sburb relentlessly drives its players forward. If you attempt to go back, or stay where you are, you will be punished. No getting your parents back, no getting your planet back.

What’ll it be John? Advance or Advance?

https://homestuck.com/story/431

John is extremely resistant to being made to do things that he doesn’t want to do anyway, even by Narrators.

More thoughts about Cake and Baked Goods in Homestuck and in relation to John. The other main characters baking is associated with in Homestuck are all women - The Condesce, Meenah, Jane, Nanna - and baking in general is pretty strongly associated with women, moms, etc. I’ve always thought it was a little out of place amongst Dad’s other character traits, which are definitively masculine. Maybe it’s for exactly that reason - baking is culturally feminine.

Maybe John’s resistance to baked goods is because he’s uncomfortable receiving feminine affection (especially, but not only from his Dad). It’s like getting kisses from your Mom in public or other public displays of affection between men and the women in their lives, or even men and other men in their lives. John is certainly pretty clueless about affection from women when he receives it later in the story. On the other hand, he responds very well to masculine displays of affection, like the aloof but ebullient cards he gets from his Dad, or the one-upsmanship between him and Dave.

 (I’ll have to think some more about the capitalism thing from my other post.)

https://homestuck.com/story/433

More of Rose seeing enemies in every shadow. Then again, could it be Jasper’s fault that they’re in this mess?

https://homestuck.com/story/442

I think the fact that we jump to this point in the past suggests that Rose is probably reminiscing about this spot, going along with my theory that when the Narration is focusing on a character, it’s also giving us that character’s stream of consciousness - we’re experience what Rose is experiencing.

That probably goes a long way to excusing the kind of puzzling, irritating experience we have of our first minutes with John. Due to his tendency to get distracted by things and forget how things work, we have to suffer through his own inability to navigate his disorderly environment exactly the same way he does.

Oh, so that’s why this story gets compared to Ulysses.

It is Jaspers’ fault that they’re in this mess. My hypothesis gathers more data.

https://homestuck.com/story/444

The third of the prose poems. Drat. Got to Dave’s Poem before I even had the chance to write about Rose’s Poem. Guess we’ll come back to this one later later.

https://homestuck.com/story/445

I’ve almost certainly missed a few of these gags by now but “Left him hanging long enough” is one of the jokes that Homestuck reproduces over and over again. Homestuck reproduces itself frequently, like variations on a theme. Its self-referential nature could be called incestuous, as it turns one-off gags into recurring gags.

https://homestuck.com/story/448

While Bro and Dirk are both definitely irony ninjas where Dave is just performing irony to get his Bro’s approval, I think all the irony is an effort to distance themselves from the fact that they really do sincerely enjoy the things they’re “ironically” into. That too, is probably ironic.

Unfortunately, the actual subject matter of Bro’s interests, while innocuous in a vacuum, are still extremely inappropriate to leave out where a thirteen year old can have access to them. Bro probably isn’t a pedophile, but between the martial education, and the uncomfortable degree to which he involves Dave in his sex life, his relationship with Dave recalls pederasty which is one of many, many links between Dirk, Bro, and the Classical Hellenes, and Monastic Shudo, a similar practice historically attested from their beloved Japan. (The term Platonic Relationship is called that because Plato is one of the first Greek Philosophers to argue that maybe it would be better for students’ education if they weren’t also sexually involved with their mentors? Or so the story goes.)

I may have a bit of a vendetta against Bro Strider, which probably has at least a little to do with the fact that, when I first read Homestuck, I got fooled into thinking he was kind of awesome, and it wasn’t until I was able to deal with my own childhood abuse and the fact that I had been indoctrinated with a lot of the very same toxic ideas bro inculcated in Dave that I was able to realize that Bro Strider is kind of a horrible guardian, so I have a sort of special ire directed at this character. Maybe I’m afraid in another life, I could have grown up to be that kind of creep. I’m glad I didn’t.

https://homestuck.com/story/449

All throughout this section, the narration suggests that Dave is both subconsciously aware that his Bro’s pasttimes make him uncomfortable, but trying to soothe himself by affirming them. So, in spite of my sharing some youthful confusion with Dave, the Narrative at least communicates to us from the very beginning that something is off about Bro.

https://homestuck.com/story/452

To interrupt my dark and brooding reverie, please enjoy some Skate 3 Glitches.

I guess here’s a good place to note that I am going to be using the #personal stuff hashtag to denote when a post contains me alluding to my own dark and troubled past.

https://homestuck.com/story/457

The password is six letters long, and based on the fact that it’s the most awesome thing that it could be, I have no doubt that it’s Strider.

https://homestuck.com/story/465

Yup.

https://homestuck.com/story/466

:)

It warms the cockles of me heart that Dave’s first inclination when he starts to flip the fuck out is to reach out to John Egbert.

https://homestuck.com/story/484

8^y

https://homestuck.com/story/485

Remember that one-upsmanship I was talking about? Any chance Dave and John get around each other, they talk each other down. I’m not sure if Andrew was saying anything about Toxic Masculinity at the time. I expect, like a lot of us, he didn’t have those words on his mind in 2009, but that’s textbook toxic masculinity, and I think when viewed as a complete work, Dave and John’s growth out of it is a sign of healthy maturation. Build each other up, boys, don’t tear each other down. In this life, we’re all we’ve got, and you owe it to each other.

https://homestuck.com/story/503

Leveling up is one of those weird things about Roleplaying Games that I didn’t realize until some point in the last two years is kind of an integral fixture of them. Overcoming hardships permanently makes you stronger in games that have an experience-level feature in them, and once you’re strong enough to beat a challenge once, you’re almost always strong enough to overcome that challenge in the future.

It’s a kind of storytelling that on closer examination is weirdly propagandistic, but it’s actually all over media. It’s pretty rare for a story to say “When you overcome a challenge, good job. You will have to overcome that same challenge again and again - maybe every day of your life.” The interesting thing, and I might come back to this, is that I think Homestuck actually takes this latter approach. Exactly the same emotional struggles they begin the story with are the ones they spend all 8000 pages of Homestuck agonizing over, and these characters will probably spend their entire lives wrestling with the baggage of their youth.

Suffering and toil is the fate of humankind, I suppose.

https://homestuck.com/story/518

Surrounded by Idiots.

https://homestuck.com/story/538

Saw is a story about a serial killer who subjects his victims to gruelling trials catered to make them face their own fatal flaws and emerge changed into better people, which is a lot like authorial scorn, which Andrew describes thusly in the commentary for Vriska’s introduction: “It's not as ill-willed as it might sound, but more of a universal principle of storytelling that for things to be interesting, harsh outcomes must befall those you create, in response to which they may thrive or fail. Which to the casual observer may read as hate.“. Lord English and Caliborn bear visual similarity to Jigsaw’s creepy puppet avatars, and serve as instruments of Andrew’s Authorial Scorn. Bro reproduces the same kind of creator’s hatred that Lord English bears toward all of Paradox Space, and reproduces it for the dubious benefit of his ward - Dave is to overcome the challenges thrust upon him in order to become strong.

https://homestuck.com/story/571

Dave does not care for being watched.

https://homestuck.com/story/588

If Dave’s first instinct for when he’s uncomfortable is to go talk to his friends, his second instinct is to attack.

https://homestuck.com/story/625

I don’t remember where I read it originally, it’s too far away in the past, but each of the items in the Rocket Pack is representative of one of John’s friends. The Cinderblock Dave, the Flower Pot Jade, the Violin Rose. John’s friends, his connections and bonds (Blood) tie him down and prevent him from indulging his most impulsive behaviors (Breath).

https://homestuck.com/story/631

In addition to Mad Science (or perhaps as an aspect thereof) John demonstrates remarkable lateral thinking.

https://homestuck.com/story/635

Alchemy has helped me get my thoughts in gear on a subject I glossed over the other day - the way the characters’ personality traits and objects fill the background radiation of the comic. In a way, the same thing is going on when the characters produce all kinds of neat shit from the odds and ends around their house as is going on when Sburb populates itself with symbols from the characters domestic lives. 

Clowns become a threatening symbol throughout all of Homestuck, basically because there are a bunch in John’s house from a Doylist perspective. From a Watsonian perspective, Sburb seems, through the vehicle of destiny, to deliberately latch onto things from the players’ lives that will help them to contend with their anxiety and trauma. John has bad dreams about clowns, and seems to conceptualize himself as a clown in his self-critical estimation of himself. Maybe even as a Dark Mirror of his aspirations to be an entertainer? Is a Circus Clown a funhouse mirror version of a stage magician? I don’t have a follow up to that question, but it makes me think. If you checked out the essay from Malo I linked earlier, you might recognize some other things that John is afraid of which characterize his session, like his alleged fear of heights, and his anxiety about confronting his Dad.

I think that’s all for this evening. Another 200 pages down.

Cam signing off, alive and not alone.

[may8344]

The Journey of a Forgotten Soldier (Levi x OC)

Relationships:

Alana Frey (OC)Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Original Female Character(s)Levi Ackerman/Alana FreyFurlan Church/Original Character(s)Furlan Church/Alana Frey

Characters:

Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)Furlan ChurchIsabel MagnoliaAlana Frey (OC) - CharacterErwin SmithHange ZoëPetra RalGunther SchultzEld JinnOluo BozadoKeith ShadisSpecial Operations Squad | Squad Levi

Additional Tags:

Graphic Description of CorpsesBlood and InjuryViolenceMurder

Summary:

Alana Frey, a girl born in the Underground City, longed to see the true sunlight every morning that she would wake up. Alongside her comrades: Furlan Church, Isabel Magnolia, and Levi, Alana’s life as a thug continued with no way around it; until the sudden day she and her companions were offered the deal of a lifetime.

“Once you complete this job, not only will you be generously compensated for your work,

but you will also earn the right to live above ground.”

Word Count: 2.1k

---

Chapter 6: To Be a Soldier 

“This is the military barracks,” Flagon introduced as he walked inside a decently spaced room filled with bunk beds. The quartet followed behind, admiring the area.

“There’s quite a few bunks, huh…” Furlan commented, carrying his small bag of belongings.

Isabel jumped up and down in excitement. “Sweet! So we all get to sleep in the same room!?”

“The women’s barracks are separate.”

“Aww! I wanna stay here, too!” Isabel whined, her enthusiasm dying out.

“That’s enough, Isabel,” Furlan scolded.

“Furlan, how could you!?”

“I didn’t make the rules!”

“This bunk’s for you two men,” Flagon cut off their bickering, obviously annoyed. Gesturing to the bunk bed in the corner, their leader crossed his arms, almost in disgust. “I know you’ve spent your whole lives living in a trash heap, but try to keep this place clean.”

Irked, Levi stomped his way over to the wooden framed bed and ran his hand underneath it. Little flecks of dust floated down, some clinging to the ravenette’s hand. He stared at his hand with disgust. His three companions turned to each other in fear of his reaction, but the squad leader appeared confused.

“What did you just say?” Levi threateningly asked as he marched over to Flagon, only inches away from him. There was quite a height difference due to Levi’s short stature, but that didn’t make him any less menacing. 

“Hey! Don’t use that attitude with your Superior Officer, you little punk!”

“Anyway!” Furlan butted in before either of them decided to fight, “Don’t worry, Mr. Squad Leader, sir! We’ll keep it clean! Right, Levi?” He looked at his friend. Quickly doing his incorrect salute, he tried to make peace out of the situation.

After noticing it earlier, Alana quickly moved by Furlan and gently took his arm, turning his fist to have his palm upwards. 

Flagon clicked his tongue with irritation, and turned on his heel to walk away. “When you’re done unpacking, come to the training yard. Chruch’ll beat you into shape, starting with a proper salute.” With that, he left, slamming the door in his wake.

“Levi! Didn’t I tell you not to cause trouble? We’re suspicious enough already,” Alana scolded.

“Didn’t you hear what that prick was spouting out of his big mouth?” Levi began wiping off his dirtied hand with a white cloth from his pocket. 

Alana placed her hand firmly on Levi’s shoulder with a small smile on her face. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal, but once we finish our mission, then we’ll finally be able to live up here. We can stay in a warm little house together just like before. We’ll be able to see the sun everyday and breathe the fresh air. Isn’t it worth it?” Her gaze turned to the other two who were standing proudly. “We’ll all see beyond the Walls together.”

Levi grumbled but nodded. The cloth was clenched between his fingers, but he eased under Alana’s touch. 

“We weren’t just caught by accident, you know.” Furlan put his hands on his hips and frowned. “I hope you haven’t forgotten why we’re here, Levi.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“In that case, until we get our hands on those documents, we’ve got to do everything we can to avoid arousing the soldiers’ suspicions!”

“The reconnaissance Battalion will likely come after you.” The mysterious man in the carriage added. “Be sure to put up a little resistance. There are two things I’ll have you do for me. First, you will obtain a certain document, which is in the possession of Erwin Smith.”

“Stop bothering Big Bro, Furlan! We can just beat the stuffin’ outta all of ‘em like we do Underground!” Isabel yelled as she climbed up to the top bed.

“Quiet. Idiots should be seen, not heard,” Furlan commented, annoyed by Isabel’s nonchalant words.

“Hey! Who you callin’ idiot!?”

“Fine. What’s eighteen plus twenty-two?”

Isabel paused before counting on her fingers. “Um… take eight plus two, carry the…”

“It’s forty, idiot.” Levi answered, slightly nudging the ginger’s head.

“Big Bro! Not you too!” Isabel whined as tears started to prick her eyes after her pride had been hurt.

Seeing the pain in her eyes, Levi sighed and ruffled the hair on top of Isabel’s head. “You’re such a pain in the ass, idiot. You don’t need to know how to add to go on living anyway. Let him try to live on numbers instead of food and see where it gets him.” He turned his head to the blond. “But Furlan, didn’t your plan call for us to join Blondie’s squad?”

“At least give me a small margin of error,” Furlan complained. “We made it into the Survey Corps. As long as we find it before the expedition outside the Wall…”

Levi slammed his fist hard into the wooden bed frame, anger flooding through him. “We still got to take care of him.”

“I understand how you feel, but that’s-”

The strange man continued his request, “And secondly, to kill the Scouting Regiment’s section commander, Erwin Smith.”

“Furlan.” Levi stopped him and walked towards the taller blond. “I’ll go along with your plan, but I will kill him.”

With a sigh, Furlan finally gave in. “Okay, fine.”

“But, before that.” Levi made his way over to the closed window in the room and pried it open. In record time, he tied a cloth on top of his head and one to go around his face. Taking a broom from one of the small closets, he turned to his three friends. 

Alana stared at him with shock. “How did you know there was even a broom in there!?”

Ignoring her question, he turned and scowled to his friends. “Clean around the beds. Don’t leave a single speck of dust behind.”

“What? Now?” Isabel whined.

“You wouldn’t want me to cause trouble, would you?”

[~]

“Hiyah!” Isabel yelled as she urged her brown horse forward. A large smile was drawn on her face as she rode in excitement. She raced across the entire field as if she were a professional. Slowly balancing to a standing position on the saddle, she launched her ODM wires to attach herself to a nearby tree. Maneuvering her way up with a pump of gas, she cheered, hanging from the tree. “C’mere, you!” She yelled to her horse, which immediately galloped to the area in front of the redhead. Jumping off the tree, she landed  back on her horse. “Woah, buddy!” She yanked the reins to bring the horse to a stop. Turning to her teacher, Isabel smiled, “How’s that?”

“I’m shocked!” Her female teacher responded with her eyes wide. “I didn’t think she’d get used to you so quickly.”

“Nah, living Underground I’ve gotten good with animals. The ones I have trouble with’re people!” She joked.

“The higher-ups and the other soldiers all put you down because you’re from the Underground, but it must’ve been hard on you, living down there, right?”

Isabel paused, a little in thought. Not letting her pride weaken, she turned her eyes away and mumbled. “Yeah, I guess. I was born and raised Underground, so for me, livin’ in a trash heap was normal. It got so I thought I was gonna die, but life’s a little better since Lana, Furlan, and Big Bro saved me from that.”

“Big Bro?”

“Yeah, Levi!”

“I see… Levi did that?”

“That’s right! He’s the strongest, even Underground!” Isabel stated, proud of the man she looked up to.

“Is Furlan the same?”

“Nah, Furlan’s…” She trailed off as she turned to where Furlan sat with another Scout member.

[~]

“I didn’t stand a chance,” Furlan sighed, speaking to his fellow soldier. “In the blink of an eye, every last one of my friends turned on me. Since then, about two years ago, I’ve always been with Levi and Lana. Though it might've been problematic making him any kind of leader.”

“Is he really that skilled?” The Scout member, who sat next to him, asked with interest on his face.

“Let’s just say you should stop trying to provoke him,” he laughed.

“Is Alana as strong, too?”

Furlan nodded. “Yeah, one of the best hand-to-hand fighters that I’ve seen. In some ways, she might be better at it than Levi himself.”

“I see.” The Scout’s eyes trailed up the building next to them. “Oops,” the member suddenly stood up from the wooden logs he and Furlan sat on and mumbled. “We’d better not chat here. Section commander Erwin’s watching.”

“From that room?”

“If we perform well, we can get private rooms instead of the barracks, too! Anyways, let’s get on with your training.”

Furlan mentally noted the exact room Erwin had stood in for later. 

[~]

With a swift, high kick to the jaw, Alana was able to knock her Scout trainer to the ground. Though she remained in a fighting position, she looked at her opponent with a frown. “Are you alright? I didn’t kick you too hard, did I?”

The male Scout shook his head and stood up, rubbing his chin. “You got some moves, kid. I’m surprised. Is everyone from the Underground like this? I thought it was only filled with hungry, violent people.”

Though Alana had taken quite a bit of offense to this, she held back her remarks with a fake smile. “Not everyone, no. I’ve learned to defend myself over the years. It’s useful to know; to people who live on the surface, too.”

“Are your friends like that too?”

“All of my friends are strong. We all survived down there after all.” Alana relaxed her stance. 

“I see,” he responded with a huff. Like most of his comrades, he didn’t see any of the four as humans; more as monsters. He clicked his tongue and put a hand on his side. “Well, you’re still not done surviving just because you made it above ground. Fighting against the Titans is no small feat, so don’t think you’re so high and mighty.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sir.” 

[~]

“You punk… what do you think you’re doing, holding it like that?” Flagon scolded Levi. “They weren’t designed to be held like that! You wanna die the second you step outside the walls?”

Levi held his two, bladed handles securely in his grip. However, the one in his right hand was held backward. Instead of his pointer and middle finger, he used his ring finger and pinky to control the two triggers.

“You might end up that way,” he scoffed in response, swinging around his weapons. “All that matters is slicing through the back of the Titan’s neck, right? Let me do that however I want.” With that, Levi launched his gear and started swinging through the training field trees.

Flagon was ticked off at this point. With the rest of his squad, he set off into the trees after the ravenette. Wooden Titan dummies, with make-shift rubber napes, were spread out. Some were controlled with a rope by other Scouts to move, but the rest were non-controlled and stood still.

“Hiyah!” One of the dark-haired Scouts named Sairam screamed his battle cry as he dug his blades into the nape, successfully slicing through. Unfortunately, due to how deep he had cut, one of his blades were ripped out of the handle to his gear, remaining stuck in the rubber. 

Behind him, both Levi and a platinum blond-haired Scout followed, blades in hand, and ready to strike. Levi zoomed ahead, prepared to make contact. The other watched and mumbled under his breath. “These mysterious thugs… These vagrants with no knowledge as soldiers… I’ve trained half to death, and these criminals think they’re better!?” Quickly catching up, both of them struck the same dummy.

Levi cut with perfection, but his fellow soldier’s was a little shallow. Bitterly, the blond looked around, finding an untouched dummy. Pushing off of a tree, he raced towards it, keeping his eyes on Levi. “Don’t get left behind!”

From the distance away, the dark haired Scout yelled back. “Hey, wait! look out! I screwed up!”

Suddenly, the prideful, light haired Scout was heading straight towards an open blade. Due to his acceleration, he wouldn’t be able to dodge it without at least a deep cut.

Seeing the danger, Levi launched himself off of one of the nearby trees towards the dummy. With near inhuman speed, he flew past the terrified soldier and dug his sword into the area with the stray blade, quickly getting rid of it before anyone could get hurt. The light haired soldier landed face first on the newly cut rubber area. His head snapped up and he stared at the black haired man in front of him. “How can he be… so fast?”

Levi spared the dumbfounded Scout a mere glare as he continued forward.

---

(A/N) Hello readers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, because it was a lot of fun to write versus the previous one (a lot less military talk). I enjoy writing for these four so much, so I hope I'm able to convey this through to all of you. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a good day.

Thank you Brianna for editing.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 

[asgardianthot]

Tell me all about it (sambucky)

Smut

summary: Bucky has issues, Sam tries to fuck them out of his system. A very dramatic version of pillowtalking.

word count: 4310

A/N: yeah so this was my first time writing sambucky since I usually only ship Bucky with Steve, but after that one (1) heteronormative bro-breakup in that one (1) movie -I don’t wanna talk about it- I found myself reading a lot of sambucky and I actually ship the hell out of these two idiots. Anyways enjoy!

Bucky’s hands rested on the bedframe, holding himself to dear life while Sam pounded into him from behind. His hands kept the soldier’s hips steady when he needed them to and made them join in the movements with that same mindset, and it was a form of control Bucky never knew would actually enjoy. In fact, Sam somehow managed to make him lose his own name in such a drunk way, with sweet-talking and determined caresses, that he had more than once found himself begging for his touch, breathing out in pain for his aching member.

This time, though, he hadn’t made it slow. Bucky had initiated the approach, and Sam simply went with it, at Bucky’s rhythm and pace, until he had him against the pillows, needing more and so much more. Barnes was surprised now, receiving such an amount of pleasure that he thought he wasn’t even allowed to feel that way, but feeling ravished and fulfilled to an extent where he couldn’t stop moaning out.

Sam, on his part, enjoyed Bucky’s noises so much he paid very close attention to whatever nonsense came out of his mouth, no matter how lost he was in his own pleasure. It was when the cursing became Sam’s name and his name became pet names and those pet names became a very compromising phrase that his mind took the lustful words seriously.

“Oh, god, I love you.”

Wilson considered the possibility of it just having slipped in the moment, but he was about to let it slip as well no matter what the intent on the other side was. Plus, the declaration had sent him on edge and now everything felt fuzzy and great, so his head started spinning.

As he was feeling the orgasm wave over him, he spoke out loud with the last thrusts. “Fuck, I love you too. God.”

The man’s belly exploded with painful pleasure and he came in Bucky, letting out a loud groan. Nevertheless, still riding off, he could sense Bucky’s body a little frozen.

He tried to catch his breath. “Hey, you okay?” he asked to the man’s back.

Bucky faked a laugh. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

The suspicious sentence being said, he shifted away, Sam slipping off of him in the process and making Bucky whine a little in discomfort, caused by his own movements.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” Sam made sure.

Barnes shook his head as he sat down. “No. All good.”

Sam let out a happy breath, big smile mumbling ‘okay’. He accommodated his body next to his lover to kiss him, still panting and enthusiastically devouring his mouth. He then went to kiss Bucky’s neck, then jaw, and the man was kind of giving in but not really, as just having his eyes closed didn’t exactly mean he wanted more. Wilson, on his part, wasn’t sure if what was clouding his mind was overthinking the statements they had shared, or if he was just mad that he didn’t get to cum himself; luckily, the solution of keeping him busy fixed both of those problems.

But Bucky reached for his mouth and gave him a peck, drifting away too quickly and leaving Sam to linger. Before he could say something, Bucky had stood up and started to get dressed, boxer briefs first, then pants.

Sam was taken aback, but knowing the stubborn wall of a person he was dealing with, knew exactly what he was doing. “You in a hurry or something?” he asked sarcastically.

“Just wanna get home, that’s all.” He replied without even a glance.

“Mm’kay.” Sam nodded, not buying a single word and letting him know by his tone. “I don’t remember saying you couldn’t stay over.”

“I just… I think I should go.” He finally gave Wilson the decency of facing him, only to go back to putting on a shirt over his head. “I shouldn’t sleep here.”

Left to do nothing but sigh, Sam did so while sliding his boxers up his legs, before painfully stood up from the side of the bed. Bucky had almost found his socks by the time he got there, next to the floating figure.

“What’s this about?” he shot his shot, to which Barnes merely shook his head and pretended to be clueless while searching for his shoes around the room. “Buck.”

Bucky had to take a deep breath, annoyed at how pushy the man he was just having sex with was acting. “You’re being a pain in the ass.” He locked their eyes, hoping that was enough to be left alone.

“No, that was a minute ago.” Wilson cracked a joke, not really expecting Bucky to laugh as his own face was just as straight as the Winter Soldier’s. “Right now I’m being decent.” As he crossed his arms, his voice earned a much more annoying false-joke-like tonality, using a higher pitch just to get under his skin. “You ask a person a question, they reply. Look, ask me anything.”

“Sam…”

“Ask me anything, I’ll reply.” He repeated with that same obnoxious tone.

This time it was Bucky who had to sigh and follow Sam’s little game. He decided to give in and ask a genuine question, but one that would hopefully end the conversation.

“Can you just let me sleep in my house?” he asked truthfully.

Thankful for the effort, Sam replied cordially, although not really, as he was using words which sounded more offensive than defensive.

“Normally, I would just let you walk out that door, but I get the crazy feeling there’s something on your mind.” He continued to push. “I wanna know what it is.”

Barnes bit the inside of his cheek. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Is it because I said I loved you?” he was too quick to ask.

The easiness and calm he spoke with made Bucky’s skin crawl, his whole body freeze. Just the way Sam was addressing him made him upset for some unknown reason and the only thing he properly knew was that his chest and stomach rejected the thought. Somehow. He clenched his jaw, and that was when Sam noticed he looked rather angry.

So naturally, instead of stepping back, he kept provoking him to get a proper answer, because he was spilling his guts right then and there, open and vulnerable and honest, and the man wasn’t even dignifying him with a reply. No, Bucky was just running away like Sam had insulted him or something, which, to be honest, would have caused a better reaction. They were used to

“Here, I’ll say it again: I love you.”

This time Bucky’s reaction was to turn around, continuing to look for his shoes but giving Sam his back.

“Say it back or say you didn’t mean it, say it just came out in the heat of the moment, I’ll understand.” Sam didn’t give up on the subject, no matter how much rejection was being shoved on his face. “But say something.”

“What part of I don’t wanna talk about it-“

“But you have to!” Sam raised his voice minimally, finally letting some sentiment out in more than just words.

And Bucky felt the micro aggression hit him like a truck. The things building in his stomach were anger and confusion to say the least,

Stop. Frown.

“No, I don’t.” He spat, his squinted eyes saying more than necessary. “You’re not my counselor, I’m not one of your veterans!”

The attack made Sam raise his eyebrows in offense, but instead of cutting through Bucky’s statement, he merely crossed his arms and put up a defiant look as he waited for the man to continue, or potentially fix what he was saying, although it seemed very unlikely.

Indeed, Barnes followed up with a devastating phrase. “I’m not here for you to suck the PTSD out of me!”

Sam kept a straight face. “You wanna take that back? Last chance.” He offered, tip-toing around that one last drop he needed before snapping.

Seeing how any addition to the conversation would only make it worse, Bucky decided to end things and pick them up another day, when they were both less irritated and heated, but most importantly, when he himself knew exactly what he was running away from and why he was so damn upset.

“I just wanna get the hell away from here.” He turned away, still looking for the remaining of his clothes since the argument made it difficult to actually concentrate in finding the items.

“Why? Cause you might actually feel something?” Sam finally snapped, raising his voice and dropping his arms at his sides. “You can act all you want but the whole ‘jerk’ part doesn’t suit you, Barnes.”

And the words had the soldier finally shutting his mouth, actually listening to the sentimental accusations. Something clicked. Perhaps Sam had a way of crawling under his emotional door just like he could crawl under his body. Naked body, naked soul, was an intrusive thought he acquired in those milliseconds while he waited for Sam to keep yelling.

“You wanna push me away, too? Fine! But you should really start writing your apology letter for when you realize I actually care for you. I actually worry? Has that ever crossed your mind? What, did you think I pretend to like you?”

Picking up on the fact that Sam was waiting on a proper answer, Bucky shrugged, his tongue a little tied but managing to speak up in the tiniest of tones. “I think you like to fix people’s messes.”

Wilson appreciated the honesty, but still had to shake his head with disbelief at the lack of understanding from the other end of the conversation. “Right. Cause it’s not like I love you or anything.”

“You said that already.” Bucky reminded him, not upgrading from his small voice.

Sam nodded. “Four times and I still got no reply.”

Eventually, Barnes was forced to speak his mind. Whatever form that took, considering he wasn’t totally sure of what his mind was doing to him at that very moment. There was one thing he had come to realization, though, and it was the one thing he croaked out to be heard.

“I don’t know if I can.” He said before looking down at his own shoeless feet.

“Just say yes or no, or give me some time to think about it. There’s not many options to choose from.” Sam pushed him.

“If I can do… feelings, I mean. I don’t know if I can do feelings.” Earning Sam’s full attention and probably his will to understand his posture, the man lifted his gaze and locked eyes with him, doing his best to express his confusing thoughts. “I’m probably… unwired to? They probably took that part off of me and if not, the killings did.”

Sam felt that thing he usually did when Hydra was brought up: his heart sinking. It normally came with a side of compassion and guilt, or sometimes even anger. This time, among a few others, it was impotence for not being able to get those crazy ideas out of his mind. Walking towards him, Bucky understood that his lover was being nothing but comprehensive.

He placed his hands on both sides of the soldier’s face, the latter shutting his eyes at the gesture. “Bucky, what’s this on your mind right now? Fear? Guilt? All feelings.” He talked him through, sweetly; then placing one hand on the man’s chest, which made his eyes water over being handled with so much care. “This, right here? How it feels heavy?”

He didn’t fight the gentle treatment. Sam was right, and he was just having a hard time accepting it. So he simply nodded, empty nods to cover-up being on the verge of tears. However that big sad frown on his face wasn’t helping, and wasn’t avoidable either, so he had to blink away some tears, although never losing eye contact with the man causing them.

“What about… good feelings?” Bucky’s voice cracked. “What if I can’t have those?”

Wilson smirked in an attempt to cheer him up. “Baby, what did you just feel on that bed?” he joked with a mocking tone.

A laugh escaped Barnes’ lips and it gave room for his lover to wipe his tears and then pull him in for a hug, a warm, comfortable hug, which was barely reciprocated by Bucky’s hands holding onto his back, but it was enough.

Suddenly, he croaked another painful question. “If I’m capable… do you think I deserve it?”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

Sam guided him to sit on the bed, which he obeyed to rather reluctantly. Sometimes, it felt like Hydra had implanted a chip in his brain that made him relieve the memories as a part of their torture, a way of keeping his humanity away from him forever, even out of their physical reach.

“Listen to me.” Sam spoke in a low, convincing voice. “You can’t let it chase you forever. If you keep punishing yourself, they win. Bucky, you’ve endured more than anyone alive can account for, you… you don’t just deserve the world, the world owes you for all those years.”

Bucky slipped a small smile. “Sounds like you’re overestimating me.”

In his mind, he was just the dumb soldier who got sent to the wrong place at the wrong time. They didn’t pick him because he was special. They didn’t even blink, they simply sent a few guards to get him and that was it, he was in Hydra’s claws now. Even after the facilities burned down, they had him, but it was just bad luck. He didn’t feel like he deserved an award for surviving; they wanted him to survive. Perhaps he deserved some compensation for the trouble, he thought.

“Bucky, I know what Steve meant to you.” The unspoken subject was abruptly brought up, and it made Bucky’s head shoot up. “I know he wasn’t just your friend.”

“That’s not…” the soldier shook his head minimally, simply at a loss of words, until he couldn’t finish the sentence.

“He was my best friend too, but to you, it was love. I know it was.” The face he put up was saying by all means for Bucky not to try and deny it. “And I know you never told him.”

Barnes gave in. “You’re saying it proves I can do feelings?”

“Why did you tell him to leave if he meant that much to you?

It was then that Bucky just knew that Sam had figured it all out. His feelings. Keeping them concealed all those years. The conversation they held right before Steve stepped on that quantum time machine.

He shrugged again. “He deserved to be happy, even if that counted me out.”

And just like that, it made sense. He realized his own words were giving him the answer, as his own actions projected what he didn’t think he deserved himself. After visibly putting up an pensive expression that might as well have been replaced by a sound of ‘huh’, Sam grinned, as if to say ‘see?’.

“Your heart is broken… in so, so many ways.” He continued, grabbing the man’s flesh hand in his own. “I cannot fix that for you, but I’m here. Please, know that I’m here and I’m not leaving. You can trust me.”

Bucky didn’t need any more reassurance. Sam was it. He was scared and unsure but if there was one thing he was certain of was Sam’s love; Sam’s feelings towards him, his own towards Sam, his honesty, straightforwardness, and above all, the way he made him feel real.

“Then I guess I love you.” He simply said, his heart open and still feeling safe.

Wilson cupped his face with a mocking smirk plastered on his face. “You said that already.”

Then Bucky leaned to join their lips softly, which then escalated to a heated kiss. Their soft palms reached to caress each other’s skin, Sam’s being bare and out in the open, so his next move was to remove Bucky’s shirt, one he had put on merely to storm out of the place. They certainly didn’t need it now. Sam was also very quick to notice the hard-on growing under Bucky’s pants, so he palmed in intentionally and meaningfully while leaving wet kisses on his neck, which earned him one of Bucky’s moans.

He kneeled on the floor, in front of the needy member trapped in Bucky’s jeans, and decided those had to go as well. Once he had gotten rid of both the pants and boxers in one go, there wasn’t much more teasing before his lips were already wrapped around his dick. No matter how aware of what was about to go down Bucky was, he was still somewhat caught by surprise by the sudden tongue running up his upper shaft, and couldn’t contain the gasp from escaping. It was continuingly followed by a moan, along with the sensation of heat rising to his body.

“I’m gonna make you feel good, okay?” Sam used his lowest sexy voice while one hand ran up Barnes’ stomach and hot breath touched his thigh.

“Yes, please.” He nodded through closed eyes.

It put a smile in Wilson’s face. He bobbed down, then added a hand to masturbate him while his lips did the work of sucking the living breath out of the man. He gained a rhythm that had the pleasured soldier grasp at the sheets beneath his palms to the point where he could hear the fabric tear under metal fingers, buck his hips, groan and moan, not even bothering to hold back the sounds. He didn’t care about sounding sexy or employing a low voice like Sam did, and just let himself go.

The next time he bucked his hips, it made his cock reach Sam’s throat, and he gagged but kept going, pressing his lips tighter around the member so that it wouldn’t cut off his air supply.

Suddenly, Bucky felt the need to announce the upcoming event. “Fuck, fuck. Sam?” and the lack of hum of approval, he talked again, a little more panicked over his need to release immediately. “Sam, I’m gonna-”

Sam knew, he could feel him tense under his hands, and simply didn’t wanna stop the frenzy just to say ‘yes, go ahead’. He wanted his lover to be let loose however and whenever he needed that particular day.

“fuck, fuck, I’m-“

His words were cut off by an involuntary moan as he came in Sam’s mouth. Given time to ride off, he panted out until lips were detached and abandoned him with a pop.

Sam left a trail of kisses up his legs, which then became his torso, and the soldier’s eyes were still fluttered shut, feeling the after wave, but before he fully rode off, Sam pushed him on his back and moved his hand up the back of his thighs until it met the mattress and he had to make way to his ass. Before Bucky even opened his eyes, while his heart was still pounding, Wilson pressed a thumb against his perineum and started massaging his way in.

It once again surprised the man, but he surrendered to pleasure with a shut-mouthed moan. That same mouth soon was opened as the fuzz around him never fully went away, only for Sam to hover over him and make his way into his mouth, dominantly. Their tongues mixed aggressively while Sam worked one finger in, giving him what he wants until he’s ready to go again.

It was when he had two fingers inside for a few seconds that he finally slid off, leaving him so abandoned that he whined.

“Come ‘ere.” Wilson gestured as he sat on the bed at an angle where Barnes could still comfortably straddle his hips. “Sit.” He in fact sat on Sam’s hard-on, to which the latter groaned. “Mmm I love your ass.” The comment had Bucky smiling into a kiss, then detaching their lips for the man to keep sweet-talking to him, his chin held by the darker fingers. “I love your eyes, too. And that dumb manly jaw of yours.”

Bucky chuckled. “My jaw’s dumb?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled back, earning nothing but more laughs. “Makes you look like Popeye got a Jesus haircut.”

The man sitting on Sam’s thighs was unable to stop himself from bursting out laughing. Only when it stopped, they locked eyes and Wilson was back into make out mode, hands running up and down Bucky’s back while the latter held onto his neck and shoulder blades. However he soon remembered and took the metal arm off of his lover’s skin, instead using it to hold himself in place, which he didn’t actually need.

Sam didn’t like it when Bucky used his arm in the bedroom, as in use it use it. He didn’t like the metal fingers around his dick, didn’t like to be spanked with it when straddling Bucky. He had tried it once just to check, but Wilson was very clear when saying he wasn’t into those kinds of kinks. ‘don’t you start choking me with that thing’ he said once, later regretting he’d called it a thing even if he was merely joking. Bucky didn’t seem to mind, he simply laughed into the kiss and forgot all about it.

Sam took notice of what was happening and grabbed the metal hand to plant a few kisses on it. He followed up by going back into that sweet spot on the soldier’s neck, making his breathing hectic again and his cock twitch against Sam’s boxers. Bucky rode him to cause some friction because he was needy, but Sam held his hips in place, provoking another whine and Barnes’ forehead to be pressed against his.

“Look at me.” Sam asked sweetly, to which he complied. “Tell me what you want.”

Bucky held a desperate frown. “I want you inside me.”

“How?”

“Just like this.”

Sam took his own cock out, and Barnes was eager for it, moaning to no stimulation whatsoever. He also had to painfully stretch body to grab the lube he left on the nightstand without losing Bucky’s position on top of him, proceeding to coat himself in the liquid. He guided Bucky’s hips down, groaning to the feeling and listening very carefully to how Bucky let out a relieved sigh. Eventually, the entire member was inside of him.

“You feel so good, baby.” Sam cooed. “So good.”

Bucky simply closed his eyes as to concentrate in taking it all in, humming as a reply. Then he was rocking his hips, making Sam fuck him without needing him to do the effort. He only had to help by placing his hands on each side of Bucky’s body, and once they got a rhythm going, Bucky’s breath was a mess.

He was holding onto him for dear life when the words came out again, only differently. “I love you.”

“I know.” Wilson attached his lips to the ‘dumb’ jaw again.

Yet the man was repeating it like a mantra, like he had to get a grasp on that word, like he had to convince himself that he deserved to say it out loud. To Sam, his body felt tight and the angle hit the dark-skinned man to the point where he was dizzy. He laid back and Bucky kept going, holding himself up with one hand on his torso. The slow pace had Sam over the clouds, breathing so heavily he might fall onto cardiac distress right there.

Then he grabbed a hold of Bucky’s body and pinned him down without slipping off him; legs naturally going to each side of Sam’s hips while Sam held himself up by his knees as he began pounding onto him a lot faster, and Bucky moaned higher. He had one hand on the mattress holding his own weight and the other on Bucky’s cheek, which he covered with his metal hand on top. They were locking drunk eyes under pleasure frowns.

“I love you.” Barnes kept saying. “I love you. I lo- fuck. Fuck, Sam.”

He nodded at the sound of his name, unable to produce a coherent word.

“Right there.” Bucky practically begged.

Wilson could sense his orgasm building up, so he let go of the man’s cheek to get a hold of his dick, all the while hitting that one specific spot inside him.

“Sam, Sam, Sam-“ He tried to warn him again, never accustoming to simply getting off without letting his partner know.

And so Sam let him know that he was okay, in any way that he could, through heavy panting. “Let go, baby.”

He stroked the soldier’s dick and pounded one, two, three times until he was screaming out curses and he came with a wide-mouthed moan, and so Sam let go as well. He wrapped a hand under Bucky’s head and collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily on the crook of his neck.

After their breath was set closer to normal, Wilson laid on his side without losing the embrace. That way, they stared into each other’s faces.

Sam moved sweaty hair off the man’s face and sighed. “I lucked out.”

It gained him a smirk from Bucky. “You condemned yourself is what you did. I’m a big pile of trouble and you know that.”

He wasn’t not serious, but at least it was all expressed through a joking tone, and progress was progress.

“Yeah, and a big pile of trauma.” Sam rolled his eyes. “You don’t think I can handle you?”

“I think you just did.” The other mocked him, again.

“Well, I can’t fuck some sense into you every single time, I’ll get dehydrated.” Sam gave into the dynamic before planting a soft kiss in Bucky’s lips. “I can try, though.”

[thewritewolf]

Inseparable Chapter 23: Blindsided

Adrien and Marinette finish making up, Nino and Alya notice some changes, and Adrien tries to get that photo for his lady.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

@ladynoirjuly2019​

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Adrien snickered and Marinette smacked his arm in mock annoyance.

“Why would you even say something like that? Are you trying to jinx us?!”

“This isn’t a horror movie, m’lady. What’s so bad about saying ‘what could go wrong’? Even if it was a jinx, I have my good luck charm right here.” She expected him to hold up the charm she had made for him, but instead, he grabbed her wrist and held up her hand as if presenting her to herself.

She blushed and bumped his shoulder, “You’re a dork.”

“But you love me anyway,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” she whispered, catching him off guard. “I do.”

She slouched back in her chair, staring at him while biting at her lower lip. It was clear to Adrien that she was struggling with something, but for the life of him he couldn’t tell what. Reading Marinette wasn’t quite as easy as reading her alter ego, but he was getting there. Not knowing what else to do, he reached out and gently placed his hand on top of hers. To his surprise, that made her tense up before sagging her shoulders.

“Adrien…” She raised her head to look at him. “I’m so sorry. I was so caught up in my own fears, I didn’t even think about what they would do to you.”

He flashed a weak smile at her and said soothingly, “Don’t worry about it.”

She shook her head. “No, Adrien. I can’t just brush that away - I want you to know that I’m done running. From here on out, we’re together, no matter what.” She leaned forward to rest her forehead against his. “I care about you. So, so much. I want you to know how much you mean to me.”

Adrien felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he squeaked out, “And how do you intend to do that, boss?”

The space between them was hot from their breaths as Marinette’s lips drew closer to his.

“By telling you every day how much I love you, to start with.”

He smiled against her lips, letting his doubts leave his body through the happy tears running down his face.

“That’s a good place to start.”

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

Contrary to expectations, they did manage to get enough done on their actual project to show Ms Bustier. Well, contrary to their kwamis’ expectations, at least. More than a couple times, Tikki had broken them up to keep them on task, and Plagg had thoroughly ruined the atmosphere when he decided he wanted a late afternoon cheese break.

When Adrien finally went home, he felt better than he had in a very long time. It might have sounded sappy to say, but Marinette telling him her true feelings toward him… ignited something inside. There was finally someone in his corner, someone who cared about him for him, and not just because of what he could do for them, or for a company. He felt energized, and with that energy came a burning desire to not disappoint Marinette.

He had told her that he would get the photo that his father had hidden away somewhere inside the mansion, and he had every intention of doing so. Even as the days went by and the search continued…

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

The two of them had decided to keep their relationship subtle at first, but he could tell that Alya and Nino had started to pick up on their well hidden ruse. All four of them had decided, about midway through the week, that they’d go to the park afterschool.

“Okay,” Alya said as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “What happened?”

“What do you mean?” Adrien replied as he held onto Marinette tighter.

Her eyebrow twitched and Nino chuckled. “I mean, what’s with all… this.” She gestured at Marinette leaning her head against Adrien’s shoulder and his arm wrapped around her waist. “Just a couple days ago, the two of you could barely look at each other and now you’re way close.” She leaned forward on her elbows and looked into their eyes as if she could look straight into their heads. “What. Happened?”

Adrien shared a look with Marinette, and made ‘go-ahead’ gesture.

“Oh! Um, well, there was a bit of a… misunderstanding. So we met up later to talk it out and, uh… yeah. We talked a lot and figured out that we really cared about each other so…” She trailed off, looking up at Adrien, who nodded furiously.

Alya and Nino shared a look.

“Dude, you were a total mess on Monday. That feels like a little more than a ‘misunderstanding’, my bro.”

“And you,” Alya pointed her finger at Marinette. “You went from barely keeping your cool around him-”

“Well, I am Hot Stuff.” Adrien grinned.

“Yup, you’re definitely full of hot air,” she quipped back at him as she jabbed him with her elbow.

“-to flirting like Ladybug and Chat Noir.” Alya seemed pleased at the way their eyes widened. In the ensuing silence, Alya crossed her arms and leaned back.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir don’t flirt,” Marinette finally grumbled.

“Well, they sorta do, dudes.” Nino smirked. “Even if they don’t realize it.”

Adrien leaned forward while Marinette groaned. “We’re telling the truth. Even if you don’t believe us, all that really matters is that we are together now, right?” He glanced between their two friends, who deflated.

“Yeah, I guess… But I’ll get that story out of you two eventually.” Alya took a sip of her drink. “Even if only because I’ll need it when I make my wedding speech.”

Alya laughed when the two of them began blushing furiously.

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

Adrien was sitting in his room, having just gotten off the phone with Marinette. It had been a full week since they had talked things through. So far, she’d stayed true to her word and had made sure that she told him everyday how much he meant to her. It wasn’t something he ever really got used to, and each time his pulse raced like it was the first time. He felt beyond fortune that she’d fallen in love with him. His fingers ran over the lucky charms that she had made for him - both sides of him. She’d done so much for him and he’d never even realized it.

Which made it all the more important to him to find that photo. Not just for their grades, but because he didn’t want to let her down on something so small. It was his house after all - how hard could it be to find something in it?

As it turns out - very difficult, especially since he was usually expected to be inside his room, working on one thing or another. It was only when he started pushing the boundaries of his cage that he realized just how small it was. Even just roaming his own home provoked suspicion. It meant that he had to leave Plagg to do most of the exploring, but that was fine. There had already been one secret safe. Maybe there were others? Adrien wouldn’t be helpful in finding them, so maybe it was for the best that his kwami search alone.

The sound of the mini fridge in Adrien’s room opening and closing let him know that Plagg had returned. The smile on his face vanished when he saw how Plagg’s tail was swishing back and forth in irritation as he ate a wedge of camembert.

“Something wrong?”

Plagg’s eyes flickered toward him. “I found your picture. Found something else too. Something I missed earlier.”

After it became clear that he wasn’t going to add anything else to that, Adrien stood up. “Well, can you take me to where you found it?”

“...Yeah, I can do that. Everyone is sleeping anyway, and you need to see this.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know why it's here, but it can’t mean anything good. Not in the state that it's in.”

“Are you just going to dance around saying what ‘it’ is then?” Adrien said, jokingly.

Plagg glared at him, surprising Adrien. It wasn’t often that his kwami was anything other than a lazy glutton. Whatever he saw must have been super important if he was getting this serious.

“You’ll see in a minute.”

Plagg guided him along darkened corridors until they came across a room that was achingly familiar to Adrien. The air was stale, like the room had barely been touched since it was left over a year ago. His father couldn’t stand to be in there after… after she disappeared. It had been a long time since Adrien had been here. There were memories of his mom laying sick in that bed, just weeks before she was gone without a trace.

While Adrien felt his throat choke up from the long untouched memories, Plagg floated along as if all was normal. He stopped in front of a family portrait hung opposite the large double bed.

“It’s behind this. I can unlock it for you after you take down the picture.”

With hands that shook ever so slightly, he removed the painting from its place, revealing a sturdy safe. Why did his father have so many of these scattered around the house?

Wordlessly, Plagg phased through the safe. The dial spun wildly and swung open. Inside was two objects - a picture of two superheroes seated on a rooftop, legs hanging over the edge like he and Ladybug did so often. And a broach with blue gems and seafoam green feathers metal feathers.

“The peacock miraculous,” Plagg supplied as Adrien picked it up. “What is it doing here…?”

Adrien took the picture. The man had a stupid haircut and a silver domino mask, his outfit sleek and elegant - more like a suit for a fancy party than a suit of armor. He gestured with a black cane set with a purple gem, as if in the middle of telling a story. There was a flicker of familiarity in the man, but he didn’t recognize him until he saw the butterfly gem pinned at his throat - Hawkmoth!

His eyes turned to the woman, whose indigo dress shimmered even in the stillness of the photo. The same miraculous that Adrien held in his other hand was the same one that was pinned to her overcoat. She wore long gloves and wedged boots and was laughing at whatever the other person was saying, but he realized two things in rapid succession.

First, the woman was his mother. It was difficult to tell, but he could feel it deep in his bones until he felt something insubstantial break like glass until he knew without question. This woman, who wore the peacock miraculous was his mother. It wasn’t hard to piece together who the other man was after that.

The enchantment broke a second time, and Adrien was suddenly perfectly aware that his father was Hawkmoth.

“Now, kid, you need to think-”

“Plagg, claws out.”

[sweet-little-bird-fanfic]

YOUNG K - Pure Desire

Masterlist & Chapters: Check my bio for the masterlist link. Idk why but posts with links don't show up on the tumblr's search feature anymore. So, I'll leave the link to my master list there, where you can find the other chapters easily. I hope this is still functional for you guys, sorry for the trouble. I hope you can still enjoy my work despite the technical issues.

Summary: A young writer that’s struggling with her work until she crosses paths with an intense and fated new type of inspiration; An inspiration called: YOUNG K!

Genre: Fanfic; Romance; Smut (っ˘ڡ˘ς)

Warnings: Swearing? ; Masturbation; 

Chapter 5 - Helping Hands

Young K

I was laying in bed laughing at Jae who was trying to explain the meaning of some English expressions to Dowoon, he was surely trying really hard but the younger member was simply mocking Jae.

- Do you understand now, Dowoon? – Jae asked in a desperate tone.

- OF COURSE! - Dowoon said nodding as he tried to hold his laugh and made everyone else almost spit their lungs.

- From now on you're not drum. You're dumb. Understood? – Jae said sarcastically.

- OF COURSE. I'm drum! Very sharp, Jae!

Every member of DAY6 was now crying from laughing, except for Jae who was pretending to be done with the situation even though he was struggling not to laugh himself too. And it was when our loud laughs started to fade that we heard aggressive screams from downstairs. We rushed to the stairs to check what was going on, but no one dared to set foot in the living room when we saw the Kim brothers arguing. Kim Joon (little bro) was red from his neck to his ears and his veins were popping from screaming so harshly. Kim Jii (big bro) just kept running his fingers through his hair and sighting from irritation. And then there was Violet with tearing eyes and red cheeks between them, trying to make them stop fighting and making sure the argument wouldn't go above verbal attacks to physical ones.

- You think because you're my little brother I'll hold back? You're wrong! You deserve a beating to see if you understand where your place is. When will you grow up and stop being selfish? Useless brat. – Kim Jii (big bro) said hitting Violet's shoulder with his chest.

- Hey, that's enough. Stop! – Violet screamed placing a trembling hand against his chest.

- It's fine, Noona. We're done talking anyway. – Kim Joon (little bro) said as he looked at us and locked his eyes with mine.

Everyone was worried, we've never seen the brothers fight. But as for me, I was more worried about the fact that Kim Joon (little bro) was looking only at me. His eyes hid a burning anger that could explode at any moment and I had a vague idea from where this wrath was coming from: he was suspecting there was something going on between Violet and I and he surely didn't seem to like it.

- Is everything okay? – Jae asked making Violet jump since she wasn't aware of our presence.

- Yeah, everything is fine... right? – Violet looked at the brothers with eyes filled with worry and guilt.

- Yes. – Kim Joon (little bro) said abruptly – I just wanted to play some games, but Kim Jii doesn't let me because the games are in your room, guys.

- That's hilarious. Are you fucking serious? Making me the bad guy, now? – Kim Jii (big bro) said incredulous.

Kim Joon (little bro) walked in our direction as he let his older brother behind speechless and furious with his attitude.

- It's totally fine. You can play in our room whenever you want Kim Joon. – I said as I patted the kid's hair when he passed beside me at the staircase.

- Seriously, Hyung? – he said as he bumped his shoulder against mine with an aggressive tone to change it in the next second when he approached all of us with a sweet smile - Thanks, guys! Sorry for the trouble I caused tonight.

He disappeared upstairs as Violet whispered to Kim Jii (big bro) loud enough for me to hear it:

- Was that really about video games?

- Yeah, I'm in a bad mood. I guess I was too hard on him. – He patted her hair and squeezed her cheeks – Don't worry about it. He was just talking rubbish.

Violet looked a little suspicious at the obvious lie, though she said nothing.

Kim Jii (big bro) went to the kitchen and Violet looked at me trying to hide her remorseful expression while we all climbed upstairs. Even though I was somehow amused by the young boy's attitude towards me, her watering eyes made my heart feel heavy and my conscience stabbed me as a punishment for my bawdy behaviour.

- Good night, guys. I'll see you tomorrow. – she said to all of us before heading to her room.

As my band members were getting in our room the last door of the hallway, which was Kim Joon's (little bro) room, was opened abruptly and still startled all of us.

- Noona, can you correct my English homework? Please.

- Sure, I'll be there in a minute. Let me just changed into my pyjamas. - she replied as she closed her bedroom door.

Kim Joon stopped smiling the moment it was only the two of us in the hallway and the atmosphere became suffocating. The way he looked at me was really hostile and I knew if he could, he would kick my ass for touching his big sister. I was then, one hundred per cent sure he knew there was something going on between Violet and I... and he didn't like it at all. But instead of feeling completely threatened by his attitude, I had to control my urge to laugh at him since his behaviour just showed me that he loved his big sister and that he was only a kid. That alone should've been more than enough reason for me not to indulge in his fight. And even though I knew that, for some unknown cause, I couldn't stop myself from making sure he knew where I stood and ended up slightly provoking him:

- Goodnight, kid. – I smiled and went to my room.

I knew the word "kid" burnt his soul as I pronounced it, but even though I felt a bit amused I was somehow annoyed with the situation he created. I couldn't think straight, my mind was a mess and I definitely didn't have to treat Kim Joon alpha's teenager attitude as a real threat but I still acted in defence at the end.

I laid on my bed resting my head against a pillow and looked at the ceiling as I felt Jae lay next to me.

- Have you been misbehaving, Brian? – Jae said tickling my belly suggestively.

- I think I've been behaving very well. – I said messing with his hair.

- I wonder why I don't believe you? – He said before I buried a pillow against his face and whispered "shhh".

Even though my thoughts were all tangled, and I couldn't decide in what to think about at that moment, there was an image which kept popping out in my chaotic mind: her worried face and watering eyes.

We spent some time playing video games and watching some videos online, but it didn't take long until everyone started to get ready to go to bed and that's when I heard someone closing a door from outside. I jumped out of the edge of my bed and muttered before leaving my band members in our shared room:

- I'm gonna take a shower.

- Dry your hair! - Sungjin shouted.

- Bri – Jae was going to say something, but I closed the door abruptly cutting him mid-sentence.

Violet gasped and held her hand against her heart when she felt my presence behind her.

- Shit, you scared me! – She said patting her probably accelerated heart.

- Shhhh, keep it down. – I said looking at Kim Joon's (little bro) door at the end of the hallway and then looked at hers as she pressed her body against it and looked at me with intoxicated eyes filled with uncertainties. She tensed up as I got closer to her and placed my hand on the door handler. – Can I come in, Violet?

- No? – she said more like a question.

- Not very convincing. Can I come in, Violet? – I asked caressing her cheek gently as she blushed.

- Y-yes ... – she whispered looking at her younger brother's door with a worried expression.

- Is he asleep? – I asked her and kissed her forehead as she nodded in answer to my question.

I held her in my arms and pushed her inside, as I opened the door my senses were invaded by a soft aroma of red berries and fresh flowers, it smelled exactly like her and that made me involuntarily bite my lower lip. I took a deep breath trying to find a way to think rationally. Her room was spacious and elegant in the tones of different light blues, there was a king size bed, shelves filled with books probably organized alphabetically, a big closet, some stuffed animals, candles here and there, everything was really simple and organised, except for the huge desk adorned by research papers, sticky notes, millions of pens, notebooks and a laptop.

After I quickly analysed her room and tried to calm down a little, I focus my attention only on her once again. We stood there holding each other for a few intense minutes, I could feel her trembling hands at the end of my back as I held her face in my hands and caressed her tender lips with my thumb.

– Should we lock the door? – I asked and saw her look at me anxiously – Just in case.

She nodded her head in agreement and let me go so I could lock the door. As I turned around and got back to her embrace, I run my hands through her concupiscent body and picked her up as she wrapped her legs around me. Violet hugged me tight and played with my hair as I led us to her bed. I sat on it and she hugged me even tighter, hiding her face against my shoulder.

– You won't let me kiss you, again? – I asked softening her curls with my fingers and felt her release a deep sigh.

She grabbed the hem of my shirt and locked eyes with me as she bit her delicious lower lip.

– You seem to be feeling better. – she said quietly.

– Yeah, I got some V vitamins this afternoon. But I would like some more, please. – I said making her come closer to me grabbing her waist.

She leaned towards my lips for my surprise and pressed her soft lips against mine, kissing me nervously, pricking my self-control and awakening my shameless desires as she made me thirsty for more. She stopped and looked away.

- I think Kim Joon knows about...– I saw her struggle with words as she nervously played with her fingers. - You know...

- Yes, I'm more than sure he knows to be honest. – I replied as she stiffed on my lap - It's okay, he's just protecting his big sister. He's not mad at you. – I said playing with her hair.

- I think he hates you now. - she laughed at me.

- You'll compensate me for that, right? – I asked biting her lip and kissing her marked neck. – Shit, why is it so purple? – I said surprised caressing her neck as I made her moan with the pain.

- You got a little excited when you bit me, today. – she said trying to sit comfortably on my lap – Or maybe you bit me hard when you got excited. I'm not sure which way was it.

I couldn't avoid laughing at her. Violet was too cute to be true, but yet, there she was sitting on my lap, driving me crazy and making me drunk in her flowered scent mixed with red berries. I wanted to stop playing games right at that moment and wished to hold her and push her down and make her mine. But talking with her with no rush, so naturally, so tenderly and so close to each other without her usual attempts of running away from me seemed more than enough for the night, at that moment at least.

- I don't think I bit you that hard. You're too sensitive. - I teased her as I kissed her bruise softly and felt her twisting on my lap.

- Well, next time don't bite me where everyone else can see it. My hair barely covers it.

- What? – I asked as she looked confused at me – Oh dear, did you just asked me to bite you? In hidden places, Violet? – I accused her and pushed her down against some pillows, pressuring my body on top of her.

I gave her a smooch and trailed her body with wet kisses.

- Is this a good place? – I asked with my lips rubbing her left nipple still covered by her pyjamas' shirt as I spoke – No? How about here? – I place my lips against her belly and rubbed my lower lip on it and kept going lower, reaching her inner tights – Found the perfect spot, Violet! What do you think?

I moved her pyjamas' shorts slightly and bit her inner thigh, Violet covered her mouth to suppress the moan she let escape and looked at me with an apprehensive look. I went back to her lips and kissed her deeply as I pressed my leg between hers. She broke the kiss searching for air and whispered against my lips:

- Everyone's home. We shouldn't...

- Obviously, because a certain someone here is too loud. – I teased her and got slapped on my arm as result.

- Whose fault is that!? Get out! Get off me! You ... – she stopped talking once I cuddled up to her from behind, making her head rest on my arm and intertwined my free hand with hers. – What are you doing?

- Getting comfortable, you don't like it?

I kissed her head even though she didn't reply to me. I just wanted to enjoy this moment as much as possible. I didn't want to impose myself to her as usual, I wanted her to accept me and to relax with me. I knew she was feeling guilty because of her little brother and I couldn't get her troubled expression out of my mind.

Though, despite the fact of wanting to make her feel at ease, I was struggling to control myself. Having her in my arms was amazing but after all we've done, even though nothing big had happened yet, it was pure torture and I could feel my body temperature rise up already and surely not because of the cold.

Her breathing was getting heavier, I guessed she was nervous with all this too. But she wasn't pushing me away or saying anything, which made me hope she was enjoying this moment with me.

- Are you going to sleep here? – she managed to ask.

- If you let me... – I replied kissing her neck.

- Are... are you going to be able to sleep like this? – she pronounced the last word in a weird way for some reason.

- Yes, it's comfortable. You don't like to cuddle? – I asked trying to suppress my desires.

Violet turned around in my arms to face me with eyes mixed in hesitance and expectations. She held her breath nervously and bit her lip as she looked down.

- I meant... are you going to be able to sleep like this? – she asked as she trembly grabbed the huge bulge that was forming inside my pants with her hand, making me realise that it had probably been rubbing against her butt for a while now.

- Fuck, sorry! I swear I didn't mean to, this time. I know you're feeling troubled and I just wanted... – I spoke fast and got interrupted by her tempting voice.

- I would never be able to sleep with your dick flinching against my butt.

- Sorry, I'll go... – I said as she stopped me from getting up.

- Do you want to take care of it? – she asked hiding her face from me.

- Yeah. – I said drunk in lust already – Do you want me to take care of it?

Violet nodded releasing her hand from my hard on and placing it against her accelerated heart. I could feel her squeezing her thighs together as she stared at the huge tent in my pyjama pants.

- Do you want me to take care of it? Here? – I said groaning with my lips against her forehead – You little pervert...

I pulled her closer with the arm that was under her to teaser her a bit, I felt her breathing changing when she almost touched it with her body. I was done playing good boy and she was the one who asked for it, so she'd better be prepared to face the consequences of her wishes. I slid my hand in my pants and made them slide down a little so she could see my boxers. I lead my hand inside my boxers and saw her bit her lip when I grabbed my hardness and started to stroke it slowly, increasing the feeling of fullness and blood rush coming from it. The fact that she was watching me masturbate was making me more excited and even more sensitive, I could feel my tip twitching harder at each stroke. My length was now even bigger, making it hard to move and impossible to keep my growth inside my tight boxers. I guessed, she understood my struggle when she slid the tight piece of cloth that was covering my dick, revealing then my full boner. I saw her covering her mouth with one of her hands when she saw my entire member and I could swear I heard her mutter the word "fuck" when she placed her other hand between her legs. Violet bit her finger struggling and observing me quietly. I pulled her into my mouth and kissed her as I kept touching myself which made me close to the edge when she softly moaned against my lips.

- Violet. – I whispered.

- Yes? – she moaned within heavy breaths.

- It's okay to touch yourself, you know? – I asked as I pressed my knee against the hand she had placed between her legs a while ago – Or are you trying to torture yourself?

Violet didn't reply to me with words, but she soon placed her head against my chest covering my field of vision to our lower bodies. Her body tensed up against mine and that's when I heard juicy sounds coming from her side. She had barely started to stimulate herself but the sound of her fingers rubbing against her core were so clear, so squishy and slippery already, letting me know she was dripping wet right next to me. I heard her increasing her pace and so did I after grabbing her chin and evolved her in a messy kiss.

- Fuck, Violet! You're cruel. – I sighed into her month – Why am I the only one who can't see?

She looked up into my eyes and stole a small kiss from me as the wet sounds stopped popping.

- What's wron...

- Let's switch. – she interrupted me taking her shorts off and making my boxers and pants slide down completely with her foot.

I saw her struggle as she tried to take off her panties, so I grabbed them and pulled them down myself. A thin sticky wet tread formed from her pussy to the soaked fabric of her underwear.

- You're so wet, Violet! – I said without thinking to see her hide a nervous laugh – We're still switching, right?

- Yes, l-let's do it. – she whispered and sat on my lap.

- You're so brave sometimes. – I said sitting up and grabbing her ass – Don't run away after this, okay?

She nodded and shivered as soon as I rubbed my fingers against her clean wet core. God, how she was wet! I started caressing her sensitive folds and spread them a little with two fingers, I moved them around in circles to find her clit and teased her with my thumb. She moaned as she involved my girth with her hand making me involuntary gasp and slam my hips up, she grabbed it firmly and started to tease my tip with her thumb, I guess that was payback from messing with her clit. Her cold hands around my aroused manhood felt amazing. I could feel the pleasure concentrating together at the end of my loins in anticipation for an explosion when her hand got sloppy and she started to swirl on my fingers.

- Here, let me make it easier for you. – I whispered to her ear as I grabbed her hips and dragged my cock against her wet pussy, spreading her juices all over it.

Violet moaned and grabbed my neck tightly with the feeling of my thick member pressing under her soaked sex. I just wanted to crash my front deep inside of her, drown ourselves in pleasure and lose our senses to each other. But it didn't feel the right moment to do so, instead, I continued with what we were doing.

- There... – I said against her lips, leading her hand to grab my dick now covered with her wetness – Natural lube for my princess.

Before she could protest, I deep two fingers into her clenched core and made it quake with the sudden invasion. Her walls were tightening with each move as well as her grip on my dick, she kept jerking me off harder as I explored her slippery insides. When I tried to insert a third finger I felt her stiff on my hand.

- No, wait... It's been a while since I-i-ah! – she tried to say as I stretched her walls when a loud moan escaped from deep inside of her.

She kept her hand going up and down around my length, faster and faster as I felt her walls stiffen in expectation of the rising orgasm she was conquering. Her body trembled violently and she fought to stand still on my lap, I pushed her down and her shirt rolled up revealing her soft belly. She wrapped one of her legs around me and kept stroking me with her delicate hand. As an orgasm crashes over her and her fluids make a mess out of my hand, I desperately kissed her trying to stifle her loud moans. I broke the kiss to let her breath, but she pulled me back towards her mouth and kissed me wildly as she tightened her strokes around my dick. I grabbed her neck as she made my lower body rush in adrenalin with the gathering of a throbbing feeling growing within me begging to be released.

- Fuck, Violet. I'm gonna co... - as I pronounced those words she grabbed my tip roughly and pressured it with her thumb, making me explode in pleasure as she stroked me up and down and I came on her belly, making a mess out of it.

We tried to find our breaths and stared at each other, I smirked and kissed her when I saw her face turn into a red shade. I kissed her slowly with no rush, devouring her taste with my caring famished tongue.

- Now, you're blushing. Seriously? – I asked smiling against her lips.

She played with my cum on her belly, spreading it with her middle finger and led it to her mouth as she sucked it with her delicious swollen red lips.

- Hot. – I murdered to her ear and bit her earlobe.

- Salty. – She said licking her finger as I took some tissues from her bedside table to clean the mess I made of her stomach.

I supported myself on my arm and stared at her adorable blushing face, we kept staring at each other for enough time to make it a bit awkward. But this atmosphere was broken as soon as Violet laughed and hugged my chest.

- I'm just going to take a five minutes shower, okay? – she asked sitting up.

- Okay. – I said playing with her fingers as she kept looking at me.

- See you in a bit? – she said quietly, probably afraid of what I could answer.

- Of course, I'll be here. Hurry up, princess! – I said slapping her ass before she left.

I figured she would take much longer than five minutes and so I decided to take a quick shower myself too. She went to the bathroom downstairs and I used the one upstairs. I finished quickly and way before her, so I waited in her room. Since she wasn't there, I took the opportunity to explore it properly. It was really tidy and organised, apart from her desk that had papers, notes and books everywhere. I had heard Kim Jii (big bro) saying Violet was having a hard time with her writing the other day, so I couldn't help but read some of the lost papers that were on her computer's keyboard. When I touched them her laptop lit up, I probably touched the mouse without realising. When I looked at the screen there was a writing document open, I sat on the table and started reading it. It was interesting and I found myself reading it without wanting to stop, even though I'm not the biggest fan of reading. Her writing was exactly like her: pure and intense at the same time. I was betting her writing made people lie to themselves and say things like "just one more chapter and I'll sleep". I was being absorbed with her words when the scene started to get tempting and provocative, making me excited as I kept reading. Especially when the sex scene was strongly inspired by what had happened in the kitchen and living room between us, the only difference was that the characters had actually had sex and we didn't. "Maybe I should take notes" I joked to myself.

I heard the door being locked from behind me and heard her run toward my direction, Violet hurried to close the laptop and placed it far from me.

- Please tell me you didn't read it all! – she said with her cheeks burning red.

- I'm glad to see you're not struggling with your writing anymore. – I teased her and she run towards her bed to hide under the blankets.

I sat next to her and uncovered her face, her eyes were shining in embarrassment but the fact that she was letting me touch her was making me the happiest guy on the planet.

- You know if you wanted me to fuck you like that, you could've just asked for it. – I said annoying her before provokingly kissing her lips.

- Young K ... – she whispered and created some space under the blankets for me to lay down next to her – You smell nice. – she said as she laid down against my chest.

- I took a shower while you were gone.

- You should dry your hair. – she said in a sleepy voice.

- Goodnight, princess. – I said kissing her head softening her hair and feeling a feverish heat to start invading my body once again as I fell asleep next to her.

***

My muscles were hurting, and my body felt heavier than normal as I tried to move in bed under the soft blankets that smelled like Violet. I smiled as I thought of her and felt my heart race when the memories of our night got back to me. I searched with my hand to try to find her next to me, but her spot was empty and cold which made me feel a bit disappointed. The thought of waking up next to her was still a mere captivating dream. I sat up in bed and reached to my phone on the bedside table. "Wait... my phone?!" I thought to myself trying to find a possible explanation. As I unlocked the phone a heat of panic run through my entire body, it was 2 pm and I was sleeping. Sleeping in Violet's bed and as anyone could guess totally not at work!

I turned on the Wi-Fi and my phone became a Christmas tree with all the different notifications and pulse lights. My head was about to explode and I was slightly afraid to open the text messages:

Group Chat – DAY6

Members: Drum, Pink Sweater, Bob, Twitter God, Identity Crisis

Drum: Situations like this are the reasons I can't understand why Sungjin got mad at me when I said I would take my pants off if mydays asked me to!

Pink Sweater: DOWOON. yNO! Yes... no, you can't!

Bob: Dowoon does have a point on this one. Explain yourself @ IdentityCrisis!

Twitter God: BRIAN! Did you pretend to be sick to get in her bed?! You broke the Jaehyungparkian code, bro.

Identity Crisis: I'm so confused. Can you guys fill me in? You seem to know more about this than me. Ahah

Pink Sweater: Violet said she saw you heading downstairs when she went to the toilet

Drum: Don't worry, we think you were wearing your pants. Of course!

Bob: She said you looked like you were going to faint and since you were really sweaty, she just guessed that your fever was back at full force and told you to rest in her room. Because she didn't want to wake up the rest of us.

Twitter God: Yeah... we even saw her bring some wet towels from there. She probably nursed you even though you're so mean to her WHICH MAKES ME SUSPICIOUS! I GOT MY EYES ON YOU.

Identity Crisis: Sorry for causing troubles, guys. AH CHICKEN LITTLE, JAEHYUNGPARKIAN RULES! I LOVE YOU

Bob: It's all good at work. Just rest and get better!

Twitter God: I lobster you!

Identity Crisis: I love you too!

Twitter God: I love* you!

Identity Crisis: I love you too!!!!!!!!!

Twitter God: I love you too!!!!

I looked around trying to figure out how Violet managed to actually make them believe I didn't sleep here. I was lucky my band mates probably fell asleep right after I went to "take a shower", I was ought to be more careful. "Or maybe they're just pretending not to know", I thought to myself as I got out of her bed and dragged myself downstairs, there was a strong herbal aroma in the house that led to the kitchen. When I walked in, I saw her in a huge hoodie that made her seem really small, her hair was tied up in a messy bun with some curls trying to escape and adorning her face, her dark circles were even more evident than yesterday. And I will never understand why I found her so beautiful, even though she looked like a mess. I was pretty sure I created that look on her, maybe I was simply proud of the mess I made but the truth was that my heart was completely filled with her and it was threatening to jump out of my chest when our eyes met and her lips parted in a kind smile.

- Morning. – she said as a pink reddish shade invaded her cheeks. – You're a troublemaker, you know?

- Morning. – I said breaking into a laugh – Sorry I caused such a scene. I kinda heard what happened. – I said as I shook my phone in the air.

- DAY6 were so worried about you that they didn't even try to consider what I told them could be a lie. – Violet said as she gave me a mug – Drink this, it's tea. I heard it's good for colds.

Our fingers touched slightly when I tried to grab the mug on the table, I saw her hesitate as she closed her hand trying not to touch me, but she didn't move it away from mine completely or tried to create any distance whatsoever, so I gently caressed the soft skin of her hand and made her open it as I intertwined our fingers together. Violet held her breath and tenderly squeezed my big hand as I made her go around the table and pulled her into my arms. I played with her curls and tried to make them go to the right place, but they just ended up bouncing to the initial spot. She shook her head trying to make me stop playing with her hair, as she smiled shyly and looked at my lips. I couldn't stop a smirk from appearing on my face and I bit my lip trying to make it less obvious how much I wanted to kiss her too. I run my hands through her back and felt her cold hands embracing my neck as her thumbs fondled it and made me shiver. Her lips were starting to get moistened as she kept biting them with the expectation of my kiss.

- Go ahead, kiss me. – I provoked whispering to her ear – You've done it before, didn't you?

Violet tried to pull away, but I stopped her grabbing her hips as I lifted them and made her sit on the table. We both laughed remembering our first naughty table kitchen interaction together, but this time was different. We knew exactly what we wanted to do and we were done trying to fight the urge to take each other. She leaned her head towards me and bit my lower lip, her legs wrapped tightly around my hips.

- Sorry, I don't want to catch your cold. – she said provoking me with her lustful eyes.

Violet kissed my cheek slowly and explored my neck with her lips, creating an erotic sound each time her lips left my deprived skin. Her touch was soft and made me crazy, my skin was burning from how much I wanted to get lost in her arms.

- I think it's too late to worry about that. – I said as I pulled her into a greedy kiss and felt my body being invaded by an electric sensation filled with desire and insatiable thirst. – I managed to do all sort of things to you even though I was sick. So, what do you think it's gonna happen to you when I get back to normal?

- Oh, fuck. – she said teasing me with eyes filled with a lewd craving desire.

- You got that fuck part right.

Masterlist & Chapters: Check my bio for the masterlist link. Idk why but posts with links don't show up on the tumblr's search feature anymore. So, I'll leave the link to my master list there, where you can find the other chapters easily. I hope this is still functional for you guys, sorry for the trouble. I hope you can still enjoy my work despite the technical issues.

A/N: I hope you liked it, guys! EHEHEHEHEHEHEH

See you next time,

Love From  Sweet Little Bird.

[finnegvns-blog]

( thomas doherty, cismale, he/him ) have you heard of FINNEGAN ABRAMS ? that TWENTY-ONE year old JUNIOR studying LITERATURE & JOURNALISM? i hear they're NEAT & CURMUDGEONLY. maybe that’s why they got into PHI UPSILON MU, but who knows. whenever i hear HAPPY PLACE by NOHIDEA i think of them, but most people just say they’re the CRESTFALLEN. maybe you’ll see them around !! + lacrosse + editorial writer in the hartford herald

— AESTHETICS

the dull ache of missing something you can’t articulate, white t-shirt with stains of blood from a bleeding nose, blades of grass against your palms, empty halls of a place called home, the dim light of a lamp illuminating the room, hand against another’s throat, haunting memories, & the warmth from the hearth.

— BACKGROUND

tw: physical abuse

if anything, finn could easily be a scottish prince; in fact the abrams’ ancestors are one of the monarchs of scotland back in the day, hence finn grew up in a castle. basically, he grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth.

oh, life’s definitely pretty convenient for finn, no bullshit towards his way—nah, that’s not true. his dad’s fucked up, he’s always so irritable and angry. everyone in the family tries to avoid him so they wouldn’t piss him off. finn’s mum always reminisce how johnson used to be anything like he is now. finn’s actually convinced that his dad drove away everyone in the family, since they never really stayed, both of his siblings left for college and never really came back except for holidays until they graduated. meanwhile his mum always traveled a lot due to her work.

it started around the time finn was in his second year in secondary school. they tend to be alone at home, and johnson would always try and find finn; a harmless exchange of words then turn into resentful spats. finn’s done with his father’s bullshit and since he talks back, in return he gets a punch or two. sometimes the beatings really got bad that finn himself fights back; sometimes finn wasn’t sure if they fight for bonding. it does get too much, this happens a lot mostly because finn and johnson are so alike, it’s difficult to avoid.

hence why finn went to college at hartford university. it’s as far away from home.

— PERSONALITY

finn’s very guarded, he always feels like everyone’s just out there to leave holes in your heart even if they have good intentions. he doesn’t want to get too close. he’d let you stick around, but he makes sure to keep a good distance between the two of you.

when he does let somebody in, he gets quite affectionate, and he’s very caring. he might have a hard time taking care of himself, but he’s really good at taking care of others. 

quite irritable and grumpy; it’s actually quite difficult to see finn smile. there are indeed people out there who can lift those lips upwards, but they’re just a few. anyhow, due to his irritability he tends to get into fights. ill-tempered like his father, being observant’s really a weapon for finn, it provides the venom in his tongue when provoked. and sometimes if someone throws a fist to his direction, he doesn’t hold back.

— WANTED CONNECTIONS

best bro: honestly i need this for him, a male best friend, his ‘bro, mate, dude, pal’; they literally do a lot of shenanigans together. also one thing i really would love is finn being able to be affectionate with this dude too, like just best buds and hugging and cuddling but no homo. just please hit me up, this is my top one NEEDED CONNECTION.

mom friend: a mom friend for finn, his MOTHER FIGURE, you know how mom friends are. 

enemies: people who wants to fight finn, and people finn wants to fight.

im running fucking dry i can’t believe i just wrote three, im better with brainstorming dawg.

— OTHERS

stats (this is unfinished)

pinterest board

established connections

— SIDENOTE

thanks for reading this shite intro, anyhow i’m cher, hit the like button and i’d coming rushing to your IMs for plotting although most likely i’m going to just ask for your discord if u have it. i didn’t back read so this is most likely a bit messy. 

[bellakitse]

I hate your face, it makes my heart skip a beat [3/?]

Chapter 1, 2

“Do you know you are mumbling under your breath right now?”

Isak looks up from his notes to look at his biology partner, Sana who is giving him her usual amused, knowing look. He’d dislike her for it if it weren't for the fact that he enjoyed her sass and general everything a lot. While their partnership had started off rocky when he came back to school, in the last month, he could honestly say that he couldn’t ask for a better partner even if they didn’t always agree on biology results. But then they both had a tendency of being stubborn.

“I am not.”

“You are,” she argues, raising an eyebrow. “You said ‘cocky idiot thinks because he’s hot he can do what he wants.’”

Isak startles hard at that, blushing red hot. “Please tell me I didn’t say that.”

Sana’s mouth twitches, the corners quirking upwards. “Why would I make that up? What did he do this time?”

Isak blinks at her trying to adopt a clueless expression. “Who?”

Sana gives him an utterly unimpressed look in return, and Isak wonders when he got so bad at lying, there use to be a time when he was good at it, after all, everyone he knew had actually believed he was straight once. “That’s cute, but you know the ‘dumb blonde’ act is just a stereotype, it’s not a real thing.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Isak insist, but like he said if there was one thing Sana and he had in common it was stubbornness.

“Fine,” she says easily, way too quickly.

Isak narrows his eyes. “That’s it, you’re dropping it?”

“Yeah,” Sana says with an indifferent shrug. “If you don’t want to talk about Even and the weird mating ritual you two have that will more than likely end up in hate sex, we don’t have to talk about it. You’re my friend, and I respect you, shall we get back to the wonderful world of bacteria?”

Isak stares at her, his face hotter than he thinks it’s ever been, Sana in return just smirks down at her notebook. Her words echoing in his head. “I hate you.”

Sana’s grin grows as she stops pretending she’s studying. “Why, because you’re now picturing the hate sex?”

“Remember the days when you would say evolution wise homosexuality was a genetic dead end?” Isak asks dryly, knowing very well that Sana remembers and the point she had been making at the time. “Missing those days right now.”

“No, you don’t,” Sana says calmly. “You're just dramatic as usual because Even did something to rile you up, but you also want to do dirty, unspeakable things with him.”

“Why are we friends,” Isak whines, wondering if he can combust from embarrassment.

“I ask myself that all the time,” Sana says with wide eyes mocking him. “I’m much too cool for you.”

Isak glares at her. “I’m cool.”

“Oh, Isak,” Sana says in a condescending tone. “You’re really not, also trying to distract me isn’t actually going to work, talk.”

Isak sighs already knowing he’s going to cave. “He’s an asshole.”

Sana raises an eyebrow when he doesn’t continue. “He seems pretty nice. Actually, Vilde was talking the other day about creating a Kose group, and you know she can get. She’s worried people will laugh at it, he overheard and told her there was nothing wrong with wanting to spread some love and good cheer, that it was sweet of her. It made her really happy.”

Isak cringes. “A kose group sounds awful.”

“That’s because you are an emotionally constipated male,” Sana reasons, ignoring the annoyed look he gives her. “And don’t knock it too much, if she decides to do it, you’re joining.”

Isak snorts at that. “Yeah right.”

“We’ll see,” Sana says with a sweet smile that sends a chill down Isak’s spine. “Anyway, my point is he was nice.”

“Great another groupie,” Isak mumbles. “Why doesn’t he just steal all my friends.”

Sana stares at him for a moment before letting out a laugh that has more than one student in the library shooting them a nasty look. “Is that why you don’t like him? Because he’s ‘stealing’ your friends, didn’t you ever learn to share Isak, or did you miss that class in grade school?”

Isak rolls his eyes. “Can you not make me sound like I’m five please.”

“Stop acting like it then,” Sana mocks him, and he wants to be mad, but the face she makes has him smiling in spite of himself, and she grins triumphantly in return. “What the real reason you don’t like him?”

He sighs, pulling off his cap he runs his hand through his hair trying to figure a way to explain what exactly his issue with Even really is, why he goes defensive when around the boy. “He’s cocky and so sure of himself, whenever he’s around I feel, I don’t know, shaky? Like I’m on uneven ground.”

Sana gives him a small smile and that all knowing look is back. “Isak.”

“To be fair it’s not like he doesn’t go out of his way to provoke me,” Isak continues in a rush. “It’s like he gets a kick out of seeing me off balance, like earlier, he got all close and-“

“And you went all mushy on the inside?” she teases gently.

“Shut up,” he pouts. “It’s not like that, I don’t really know what it’s like, but he gets a reaction out of me every time, and he enjoys it so much, but I can’t help but react anyway.”

“So turn the tables on him,” Sana reasons with a twinkle in her eye. “Make him react to you first.”

“Yeah right,” Isak dismisses. “How?”

“Something tells me you are already doing it without realizing,” Sana chuckles. “I’ve seen him around you, you affect him too.”

“Whatever,” Isak mumbles despite being secretly pleased. “How about you give me some real advice on how to deal with him, he's supposed to meet me here in a little while to study.”

Sana frowns at him confused. “What do you mean? If being around him puts you in such a tizzy why are you having study dates with him?”

“It’s not a date.”

Sana levels him with a look that speaks volumes. “Interesting how that’s the word you focused on.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Lie,” Sana says bored. “So why are you guys studying together?”

“I’m failing History,” Isak explains, still hating the words with a passion. “And Magnus suggested Even tutor me cause ‘Even the best ever bro.', the guys agreed, Even overheard and now he’s my tutor.”

Sana looks at him, and Isak gives her an irritated look as he watches the way her dimples play hide and seek as she tries not to grin and fails. “It isn’t funny.”

“It is from my point of view,” Sana answers now grinning outright. “Can I stay and watch?”

Isak rolls his eyes at that, letting out a deep breath. “I’m not here for your amusement, you know.”

“Why do you think I’m friends with you in the first place?”

“Sana,” he whines earning him yet another chuckle. “Help.”

“Help with what, Isak?” she asks. “He’s going to come, you guys are going to study, throw flirty insults at each other because that’s how you two communicate, you’re going to keep denying that’s what is actually happening, and this weird cycle you guys are on will continue or-“

“Or?” he prompts.

“Or,” Sana repeats. “You can try being nice and get to know the guy since neither of you has actually bothered to do so.”

Isak stays quiet for a moment before shaking his head. “That doesn’t sound realistic, any other advice?”

“Nope, that’s it,” she says as she starts gathering her books, nodding with her chin towards the library doors. “I’ll let you decide since your date is here.”

Isak turns around in his chair just as Even spots them, flashing him a wide smile as he starts to make his way to them.

“Damn,” Sana murmurs. “You know he’s not even my type, but damn.”

Isak whips around to glare at her. “I really don’t need another person telling me how cool he is, Sana.”

“I didn’t say cool, I said damn,” Sana smirks as she stands. “Because the boy is hot, which you already know, which is why you’re all hot and bothered.”

“Sana,” he hisses.

She continues unbothered. “The problem is that while you’ve been sticking your head in the sand trying to deny it, you haven’t bothered to look up to see if he has the same problem, start looking Isak.”

Isak opens his mouth, not even sure what he wants to say, deny what she’s saying maybe, only Even’s reached their table and is still smiling at him. Them.

“Sana,” Even greets her, getting a smile back from her before turning to him. “Study Buddy.”

Isak sighs loudly which causes Sana to let out a quick laugh she tries to cover with a cough, it doesn’t fool anyone, Even grins obviously pleased with himself.

“Well, I better be going,” Sana says grabbing her bag while giving him a meaningful look. “Remember to look Isak.”

Isak’s shifts his gaze from her back up to Even who is still smiling down at him but not teasingly, just smiling. “Yeah.”

He and Even watch her walk away before Even takes her seat across from him. “What was that about?”

“Sana and her version of being loving and supportive,” Isak answers with a slight smile. “Tough and in your face.”

Even chuckles though he looks like he wants to ask more. “She is awesome and terrifying in equal measure.”

Isak grins at that, nodding. “I think this is the first time I’ve agreed with you on something.”

Even smirks a bit, shrugging. “It was bound to happen sometime.”

“I guess so,” he answers.

Even looks at him quietly and Isak stares back, look Sana said so he does.

[preservationandruin]

Words of Radiance Part 2

Viewpoints here are a weirder spread--Shallan, Kaladin, Adolin, and Sadeas. Not sure how long this will take me to get through or how many sub-parts the liveblog is gonna be, so bear with me!

Shallan takes control, Kaladin tries to work with what he has and meets a worldhopper, Renarin jumps off a roof, and people talk way too much about Amaram for either my or Kaladin’s liking. 

Epigraphs here are snippets of the Listener songs, which is probably why we had to get the Eshonai chapters first--so we could tell what they were talking about. In any case, Shallan is travelling with Tvklav’s crew--who I’m pretty sure are coincidentally the slavers who sold Kaladin. Because sometimes I feel like Sanderson’s world operates on the Dickensian premise of “everyone knows each other by coincidence.” Shallan is curious about the Frostlands’ natural vegetation. She also tries having conversation, but it doesn’t really work, in party because (rightly, given the situation) people don’t trust her.

We also learn that Jasnah kept, in her personal trunk, a drawing that Shallan had done of her. Shallan ends up mourning both Jasnah and the fact that all of her sketchpads--something she dismisses, but essentially her life’s work--are gone as well. 

More sketches--this time of various fighting stances. Nazh has written that he had to steal the scroll these were on and that the bottom half was eaten by an axehound. Nazh leads an interesting and fraught life. 

Cut to Adolin talking to his blade, something I still think might be significant. At the very least, I hope that spren can hear him and takes some comfort from having a human talk to them and trust them? We also get the story that nobody took Adolin seriously and that the guy he won the Blade from wanted to duel Adolin to embarrass Dalinar. Didn’t quite work that way. The Plate Adolin got from his mom’s side. Also, Adolin refusing to name his Blade is also important. Also, this: “I appreciate what you’ve done for me. I know you’d do it for anyone who held you, but I still appreciate it. I...I want you to know: I believe in Father. I believe he’s right...” 

Okay, I know I’ve gone on about Edgedancer Adolin before, but one of the things for the Edgedancers definitely seems to be paying attention to the people and things people take for granted. Like, say, the fact that your shardblade fights with you. 

Anyway, immediately after that we get the fact that Adolin can’t fucking read, not even glyphs. Navani voice: please get married so that I stop worrying about you not being able to fucking read. Also, Adolin is worried because they haven’t heard anything from Jasnah’s ship--WITH GOOD REASON. Also, Adolin insists that breaking up with Danlan wasn’t his fault--apparently she’d been saying something to her friends--but given that it’s Adolin it’s kind of hard to tell. 

Also, Renarin and Adolin run through Adolin’s list of good-luck charms for duels---talk to the sword, eat chicken before you duel, wear mother’s chain--and Navani is skeptical and the boys are Highly Indignant that Navani is skeptical. Also also, Adolin likes pissing off the guards because he doesn’t like Kaladin--thinks something is “off” about Kaladin. As always, he’s not wrong. But he is being petty. 

And then Adolin just crushes the other dude because he’s Adolin Kholin. He beats him so badly that the judge tries to stop them, but Adolin points out he didn’t break any rules. On the other hand, this probably didn’t endear Adolin to people--meaning that they were more likely to let slide that fucking 4-on-1 that Sadeas attempts later. Renarin thinks it was awesome, and Adolin gives him the blade. Which, uh, I mean, from Adolin’s point of view it was the best thing to do, but reading this again a) Renarin is notably hesitant to take the blade (Glys talking to him?) and also grimaces when he takes it and holds it (it’s screaming). But, unlike Dalinar or Kaladin later, he keeps holding it. 

Also, Adolin’s brutality here wasn’t planned, it was just something that happened and that he’s confused about later, feeling drained. He did get the Thrill. I’m not sure what’s going on there, but it might not be good. 

Back to Shallan, where she’s using Pattern to spy on the slavers to try to figure out how to deal with them. She also notes that these people don’t treat her like a real person, but instead as a means to an end, much like Kabsal, and she loses a bit of her temper and also mildly terrifies Tvklav. She realizes that Tvklav and the others don’t know she’s a timid rural lighteyes, and she also realizes that she can make them see her in certain ways, not just by copying Jasnah. 

Honestly, this entire trip to the Shattered Plains does a lot more for Shallan’s lightweaving than studying with Jasnah, I think. Nothing like being thrown into a fire to teach you to deal with it? Anyway, the deserters show up, and we cut over to Kaladin. The lighteyes sparring grounds is somewhat disappointing to the bridgemen, who expected something cooler. 

Also, Kaladin is plotting to kill Amaram already, which is THE MOST RELATEABLE but also not good for his oaths i guess. Anyway, Kaladin and the gang with him are supposed to be protecting the Kholin bros while they’re training, they get some backsass from Ardents, Kaladin backsasses back, and it works out. Kaladin is also left standing with Moash, which...okay, knowing where Moash’s character arc goes, I’m just going to be side-eyeing him the whole book, I apologize. We get a note that the numbers are still appearing--honestly Dalinar tell Kaladin it’s probably someone in there already so he stops panicking over intruders--and Kaladin starts getting irritated about Dalinar and Amaram again and Syl makes him admit that he does know that Dalinar, at least, is honorable. Amaram just has him fooled. 

Also, Kaladin is backsassing Adolin, and uses “Brightlord” for him--the title used for people he doesn’t respect as much. Adolin says that the only reason he hasn’t thrown Kaladin through a window is because he owes Kaladin his life. Renarin is just standing there, being awkward, holding his Blade--he had to hold that thing for five days. Yikes. 

Anyway, Syl doesn’t like the brothers, but only because they carry Shards (I hope. They’re good boys Brent). And we run into Vasher--I mean, Zahel, but it’s Vasher. Also, Adolin waited to bring Renarin until he knew Zahel was there so he could pressure Zahel into taking Renarin under his wing, and Syl drops the fact that she’s a tiny piece of a god, although it’s unclear how seriously Kaladin takes that. Back to Shallan, who is covering anxiety about the deserters with scholarship. She also sketches Bluth here--first a more true to life version, and then an idealized one with him in a proper uniform with a good weapon. Pattern asks about why people shit and Shallan does not want to be having that conversation. Pattern also says that Shallan--and presumably this is a Lightweaver thing--lives lies to make herself strong, but must speak truths to progress. 

Back to Kaladin, who’s talking with Lopen. Also, Kaladin uses the word “greenvines” to mean new recruits. And there’s another highstorm coming--meaning Kaladin is paranoid about the numbers again. Also they watch Adolin training, and we get this absolutely amazing exchange: 

“I’ve seen him summon that weapon before.”  “Yeah, gancho, on the battlefield, when we saved his sorry ass from Sadeas.”  I LOVE LOPEN. Also, Renarin’s training is beginning--he hasn’t been trained to fight, so there aren’t any bad habits for him to unlearn. And also this is the part where Zahel just tells Renarin to jump off the roof a bunch of times and also uses idioms that make absolutely no sense translated literally in Rosharan. Example: “I’m old, son. Repeating myself makes me eat the wrong flower.” I’m sorry Zahel that literally just sounds like a shitpost. 

And then Kaladin and Zahel have a conversation while, in the background, Renarin is throwing himself off a building again and again. Fun digression story, this part reminds me of a story from my mom’s family? She had 8 brothers and little to no parental supervision so some hijinks went down including the boys, at one point, deciding to play “who can jump off the highest object” which ended in the youngest jumping off the shed and breaking his leg. Don’t do these things unless you’re in Shardplate, kids. Kaladin discredits how well Renarin will do, but Zahel’s got a better idea of it. 

And also Zahel starts berating Kaladin for some of his nonchalance--like assuming he knows how to fight Shardbearers just because he got lucky against two. It’s turning into Sparring Bantertime. And then Adolin makes the mistake of further antagonizing Kaladin, they get in a fight, and Zahel calls Adolin the fuck out for challenging someone without shardplate when Adolin is in Shardplate because what the actual fuck, you could kill people. Zahel also says that Kaladin reminds him of Adolin, to which Kaladin Is Very Offended, and Zahel starts laughing at him. Kaladin also notes that the stormlight drained from him, and Syl points out that he wasn’t protecting anyone. 

Shallan flashback time--we get the fact that when Shallan thinks about her mother her brain shuts down. She also hasn’t spoken for five months, apparently--since her mother was killed. Helaran gives Shallan a drawing pad and charcoals and says that he needs her to come back because he’s going to be gone for a few years, and he’s worried about the others. And of course what Shallan automatically draws is the murder scene, which worries Helaran as well and he tells her to draw safe things instead of dwelling on the past. Shallan spoke for the first time in months to stop Helaran from killing their father. And Shallan sees her father in a furious rage, but he stops himself before he hurts her. I still wonder--did he just care about her more, or was he scared of her abilities and didn’t want to provoke them? Well, there’s not much way to know now. 

Shallan, again. The listener song quoted here does mention artform as a thing that exists. Anyway, we’ve just run into Shallan taking control of her caravan and leading them down to help another group against the bandits, because we’ve hit another moment where Shallan’s back’s against the wall and she becomes certain--and flat-up offers the deserters redemption if they help her help the other people. The leader doesn’t listen, but the others--including Gaz, everyone runs into everyone else out on the Shattered Plains, huh--do. Another new Listener form is mentioned--meditationform, meant for teaching and consolation, used by the gods for lies and desolation. 

Also, we meet Tyn here. Also, the leader of the deserters--Vathah--attempts to threaten Shallan, and Pattern spooks the living shit out of him by saying “you should let her go” while Shallan pretends to hear nothing. Also, Shallan frees Tvklav’s slaves, including using the line “I saved your life, you oily little man.” And Shallan also sees that the caravan survivors burned a prayer of thanks for the deserters who saved their lives, which is great. 

Back to Kaladin. Also, the listener song mentions stormform here, including the phrases “beware its powers” and “beware its end.” And it also says it “brings the gods their night.” So we’re getting heavy hints that stormform is really bad news. Also, Kaladin sees a red light out in the highstorm and thinks it looks like eyes. Creepy. Adolin is looking at fashions, Renarin is stimming, Elhokar is fretting. Kaladin is trying to unobtrusively be nosy. 

Also, Renarin geeks out about fabrials to Kaladin, and Kaladin wonders why Adolin is looking at fashion and Adolin gets defensive. No numbers appear--probably because Renarin is in a room with other people the whole time. Adolin mentions that the only Shardbearer in Sadeas’ camp other than Sadeas is Amaram, Dalinar jokingly comments that Adolin won’t be dueling him, certainly, while I am in the background yelling “KICK HIS ASS, ADOLIN! KICK HIS MISERABLE ASS!” 

Anyway now they’re talking more about Amaram. Can we stop talking about Amaram. You’re not going to get him to secede from Sadeas’s side. He’s a piece of shit. Kaladin also notices that when people mention Amaram, he gets upset and tense, UNDERSTANDABLY. 

And so Kaladin goes to tell Dalinar about Amaram, and Dalinar points out that Kaladin doesn’t have any proof. Syl is optimistic, saying that Dalinar listened--and she’s actually right in the end, Syl is always right, she’s the best--but Kaladin says that he didn’t. Syl is also very upset at the thought of Kaladin “finding his own justice,” as he puts it, and points out that this is not what he’s supposed to be like as a Windrunner. 

Also, Shen confronts Kaladin--which is an early sign that Shen is not a normal Parshman--and says that he isn’t really treated as Bridge Four, and that he’s basically still a slave, and Kaladin can’t argue with that and hates it. And then one of the palace guards runs in, panicking, and I’m pretty sure this is the Szeth attack. 

Listener song talking about “Nightform” which apparently predicts the future--there is the whole “Voidbringers see the future” thing. In any case, the “attack” was someone sabotaging the railing and balcony where Elhokar stands. Kaladin points out that whoever tried it was an idiot--or, more precisely, a coward, if they’re the same person who was behind the drained stormlight in the Plate. They want to make Elhokar’s death look like an accident, but they tipped their hand here--because the only tool that could have cut away at the balcony like that was a Shardblade. Kaladin also swears, here, that Dalinar can trust him--one half of the conflicting oaths that tear him apart in this book. Dalinar also assumes that bridgemen have no part in warcamp politics, which is...a bit naive. Kaladin does, as does Moash--lighteyes can engender deep antagonism in darkeyes without realizing. 

I’ll cut this here and get the rest of Part Two in another post.