#he’s just beatboxing for the sake of it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

graftisms · 2 years ago

Text

JOSH & MALI — DAY THIRTY

location: night / terrace

featuring: @inquixotic

JOSHUA

"don't get any ideas," he warns her with a look, though the smile on his face shows he's kidding. "i know we were trying to get away from those two, but... i kinda wanna see if frankie immediately dumps him or not after this." taking a seat on the terrace bench, he glances down at the rest of the group, where frankie is still beatboxing like a four year old.

MALI

the terrace is...certainly a decision on his part, given his words, and she gives him a look, the smirk tugging at her lips amused. "what was that we discussed, about mixed signals?" it's teasing, though they do choose to sit next to him rather than across, so she can peek down over the wall at the group. "no chance she does, right? isn't this the kind of thing she eats up?" the girl joked about looking like larry king, for fuck's sake. "she had to build a pillow wall, you know," she whispers. "don't tell miles, he hasn't broken me down yet."

JOSHUA

"we can go back downstairs if you want," he tells her, hating when she says that. mixed signals. he's really not trying to... at least, he doesn't think so. "if you want to walk into the middle of that, be my guest." but she is right about this potentially being something frankie would like, grimacing to himself. "apparently. she is from florida." josh uses that one fact to attribute everything to why frankie is Like This. "he told me," he snickers, "but i think they're gonna do it tonight. i don't think she'll be able to hold back two nights in a row. well, unless he falls on his ass right now."

MALI

"no, i like miles, i'd like to keep it that way. i'll keep my hands to myself." they're folded neatly around her drink, too. she really is trying to keep her smile friendly, not flirty. "i suspect this is better enjoyed from a healthy distance." florida's a good enough explanation for her and she nods. "what's his excuse then?" for being Like That, she means. "did she use the break her back like a glowstick line on you, too? it was quite creative, i'm keeping it in my arsenal." she'd love if they fucked. "she's bringing him back, right? their chemistry is so good."

JOSHUA

he has his drink in his own hand anyway, taking a sip as he watches from above. "got hit in the head with too many footballs?" josh guesses, shaking his head. "i don't know, i think he's just a weirdo. small town mentality, maybe. they are kinda perfect for each other though, aren't they?" he ships it so bad. "no, what?" he laughs, turning to mali. frankie's such a freak. "oh, she's definitely bringing him back. i'm a little afraid to know what's gonna happen after that, but no part of me thinks she won't bring him back." otherwise josh might actually bring miles back himself.

MALI

"it is weird, though, i'm used to athletes being...different than he is, you know?" worse, she means. he's just a goofball, she always expects something like jamie tartt from footballers. "they're real well suited," she agrees, smiling. "he deserves something good. i hope the fall out isn't too intense." callie and frankie seemed very intense on screen, so she does worry a little. especially if neither she or phoebe go back, too. josh being his only friend wouldn't win him many points with the others, she suspects. "she told me she wants him to break her back like a glowstick," she repeats, still hushed but pronouncing slower. "i really think she likes him, you know? why else would she admit that out loud?"

JOSHUA

"uh, yeah. i know what you mean." josh means to smirk, but instead there's somewhat of a fond smile on his face instead. he can't help it—he's really liked getting to know miles, probably better than anyone else here. (gay.) "you'd be surprised, though. not all athletes are as cool as me," he jokes, looking over at her. "yeah, same. i love frankie, but... she's not always consistent in what she does." or what she wants. josh really thought she wouldn't have moved on from her girlfriend so quickly, considering how gross they had been. he pulls a face at the words echoed back at him, not something he needed to hear. "because she's gross?" he guesses, but he can't help but add, "yeah, i think she likes him too. i mean, she has to." he motions to the two of them on the ground once more.

MALI

"oh, you're cool, are you?" she turns her gaze back to him with a teasing smile, eyebrows raised a little. "and here i thought hockey players were the sweet ones." she nods slowly, her lips pursed with a little concern for her friend. she likes frankie, too, but miles is the one that'd be hurt here. "do you think her girlfriend is cracking on?" she asks, curious to hear his thoughts. she's honestly dying to know what the others are doing in the other villa. "it does paint a vivid picture," she giggles, shaking her head. "they really knew what they were doing when they sent him in, huh."

JOSHUA

"really, is that what you've been told?" he grins. that is a new one for him, usually used to people treating him being a hockey player like they do him being a frat boy. josh would tell her that he's sweet, but that's definitely not something he could do with a straight face. "honestly? i have no idea. i don't exactly talk to her." because he's pretty sure callie hates him, thanks to dylan. "probably not, if i had to guess. they were like... crazy attached at the hip since frankie first got in. kind of like those two now," he nods down towards miles and frankie, "but, like, if their hands were always on each other. they really knew what they were doing with all of you, i think," he gives her a look, mouth twitching to try not to smile. "you're all pretty decent bombshells."

MALI

"yes, is it not true? i thought you lot were the charitable ones." they feel like with hockey players, they've heard more about the reading programs, encouraging children to play, the do good of the sports world. "i think you're sweet." she can't keep a straight face at that either, though, so josh isn't alone there, there, the small grin sneaking on before they were done saying it. "god. i hope she doesn't kill miles." she doesn't think she's the violent type, but who could be sure after they let dejan stay for so long? if it was anyone, she thinks callie or naomi. "god, so frankie has self control with miles?" she can hardly believe that, for how belligerently they flirt. "pretty decent," she scoffs, her eyes rolling, though she's clearly amused. "darling, i'm your worst nightmare. it's okay, you can admit it. i won't tell the others."

JOSHUA

"as opposed to what, soccer players who are greedy?" he laughs. it's not like he'll complain about the compliment sent his direction, although the way she immediately grins after calling him sweet makes him scowl playfully. "wow, now say it like you mean it," he drawls, eyes rolling at her. "who, frankie's girl? nah, i doubt that. she is dylan's sister, after all." and dylan isn't exactly the confrontational type. "yeah," the way she says that makes him laugh, "believe it or not, this is frankie with self-control. a lot of it, i'd imagine." hence the pillow wall. "i wouldn't say worst nightmare," he scoffs, turning to face her better. "you're definitely the bombshell brought here to fuck with me, that's for sure. but you're not as... bad, i guess, as you think. even if you did seduce me night one," josh smirks.

MALI

"i don't know about footballers, but baseball players certainly are selfish," she snorts, knowing firsthand from past relationships. they nudge his knee with hers, forcing her expression into something resembling a straight face, though they're clearly fighting a smile. "you're very sweet, darling." it's a feat, but she manages. she tilts her head, confused at that assessment. "the twins seem to have very strong morals," she says, in lieu of bringing up any past situations — the luke thing had seemed confrontational to her, but perhaps it was editing. "so she's worse than this usually. wow," she breathes out a laugh, amused endlessly by that concept. they thought those two were bad, she wonders how much she wasn't seeing on screen. she's got a small smile, up until he says she seduced him and it widens into a grin, mock outraged as she smacks his arm. "i did no such thing," they argue. she absolutely did. "you touched me. how am i meant to resist that?" it's a joke, mostly, but she's trying to seem like she believes herself, too, for the delusional edit. "some would disagree with you, though, on being bad. i've been told to stop saying i don't care about getting back to the villa probably three times?" she giggles a little, looking over at him with out of the corner of her eyes. "can i ask you something, though? promise it's not a line."

JOSHUA

"that seems like a generalization," he points out, chuckling. "what has a baseball player ever done to you?" josh nearly holds his breath to keep from laughing at the look she gives him, shaking his head. "christ, you look like you're gonna hurt yourself. i think i like it better when you're laughing at me," he jokes. he wants to make a comment about dylan not having morals when he stole naomi from him, but he holds himself back. realistically, josh knows that dylan hadn't stolen naomi, but it's hard for his mind to not go there, when it's the story he had told himself for days now. "you know you did," he laughs, making a show of rubbing his arm where she did him. "i touched you because you were half naked crawling next to me on the couch. where else should i have put my hands?" josh grins, finding it easier to joke about it now. he knew what he was doing when he invited her into bed with him, but she was the one who had come to him to begin with. "you don't care about being brought back to the villa, what?" that's news to him. josh has a feeling he's not going to like whatever question she gives him, but what else is he supposed to say? "alright, shoot."

MALI

"quite a bit," she says, a note of suggestion in her tone, laughter in her eyes. "but not nearly as much as i'd have liked." now she does laugh, though, leaning just a little away from him, creating a few more inches of space for her own sake. "it's easier to laugh at you." they shake their head vehemently, the smirk betraying that she knew what she did, though. "that was absolutely not what happened. i was a perfect angel, i was just trying to keep you company." their head drops back onto the edge of the pillows, rolling her eyes not feeling dramatic enough for this. "i was just in my pajamas! you invited me in," she points out, giggling. "it would have been rude to say no." a look of surprise flashes across her face, followed by confusion. "i thought i had mentioned — my goal isn't to get brought back to the villa, no," she confirms, raising her eyebrows. "if i make a good connection, sure, it'd be nice, but i want something good before all else. the...show portion does not matter." despite his apprehension, she presses forward, a rare flash of sincerity in her face. "if not for the show, if we had met outside of all this, do you think we would have got on?" she asks, tilting her head. "do you think you'd have liked me?"

JOSHUA

"why do girls love baseball players so much?" his eyes roll at her. "it's such a lame sport. anyone can do it." lame compared to hockey, obviously. "yeah, i've heard that before." watching her laugh makes him smile though, realizing with a pang that he's actually going to miss her when they eventually leave casa. maybe she has another relationship with one of the other islanders he doesn't know about, so these aren't the last days of seeing her. "well usually when people sleep in another room, it's because they don't want company," he points out. "stop acting like you weren't in your sexiest pajamas. i saw what you wore last night and it was not that." when she reminds him, josh does remember that she had told him that before, although that's not really what he had thought she meant. it doesn't matter what he thought she meant, though. "oh, yeah," he nods, before stalling at her question. he knows what he wants to say, but-- "can i answer that freely, without you accusing me of mixed signals?"

MALI

“they have all their teeth?” it’s a joke, a dig at him for playing hockey of all things. but he’s not wrong. she practically falls asleep at baseball games. “because you’re such a funny guy,” there’s a touch of sarcasm in it, settling back comfortably. maybe she would miss this sort of chat when the week came to an end. “you enjoyed my company just fine, though,” she does laugh at that — their way of helping that clearly did no good. “what, are you saying my night shirt wasn’t sexy?” it was more of a negligee, really, still very sexy. “i swear, i will not even tease you about what signals you’re giving.” she gives a tiny smile, her eyes showing it more than the rest of her face. that’s kind of an answer in and of itself.

JOSHUA

"fuck off," he laughs, before showing off his pearly whites. "look at that—the gang's all there. i still have my wisdom teeth and everything." it's honestly a miracle josh has all his teeth, considering how much he's been knocked around on the ice. "well, i didn't say i didn't," josh smiles slightly, choosing to ignore the comment about her pajamas last night. he's not exactly looking to point out that he remembers exactly what she wore before she went to bed alone. "somehow i doubt that," he chuckles a little, hand rubbing the back of his neck a bit. "but no, honestly? i do like you. i thought mixed signals aside, that was pretty obvious. if we had met on the outside... i definitely would be the one grafting you. really, if not for the fact that i want to see where things go in the other villa with someone else, this would be really different." he would've brought her back, josh knows, if things had ended the way it did with jenny, and naomi was still not in the picture. some part of him is still tempted to bring her back anyway, because he doesn't entirely trust naomi to be coming back single, let alone for him. "i don't want you to think i don't like you," he tells her, holding her gaze. "why, on the outside, do you think you would've given me a shot?"

MALI

"swear they're not dentures?" they know they make those! they've seen them get popped out. she's pretty sure she'd know after their night together, though. "and, clearly, you're still looking, if you know what i wore last night." light and teasing, sparing a glance down to miles and frankie's show to avoid seeing whatever flash of discomfort that call out causes for him. they're not trying to make it easy on him, but it's a lot harder to act like this when she can tell he doesn't want her to. grafting here is hard, she should really just be focusing on an easy target, like maddox. she looks back to meet his eye as he explains, and they nod slowly, a sympathetic smile on her face, but a little surprised frankly. "you know i am mostly teasing you about the mixed signals, right?" they ask, raising a single, perfect eyebrow at him. her smile's gone a little rueful, though, as she adds a nod. "if you're this charming normally? easily, yeah." it doesn't require any thought on her part. it may have taken more effort from him rather than her, but she's just glad to hear it isn't just her. she doesn't hold his gaze for longer than it takes to say that, though, glancing back down at her drink. "lie to me instead?" she asks, with a soft laugh. "tell me you'd never go for me."

JOSHUA

"they are not," he laughs, making a show of rolling his eyes. "i don't remember what you wore last night," josh lies, but he's smiling, knowing he's already been found out. "i don't remember anything sexy." by now josh has forgotten about the reason they've come up there, eyes watching mali as she glances away from him to only look back in his direction. "i know," he chuckles, still a little sheepish, "but i know there's some truth there, too. i feel bad. i know everyone thinks i'm some giant dick, but i do like being on the same page with people." meaning girls he dates, even though he wouldn't call it dating on the outside. josh prides himself on letting girls know that a relationship they have isn't serious, unless he wants it to be. mali calling him charming feels like it should be sarcasm—he's used to it being that in the villa—but by now he knows she doesn't mean it like that, flashing her a smile. "you want me to lie to you?" he laughs. "fine, but answer me this: if we're both single in six months and i slide into your dms, will you block me?"

MALI

"then how do you know it wasn't as sexy?" there's a triumphant smile, at his denial, poking at his arm. "maybe they were worse, for all you know. if you weren't looking." they do have worse pajamas with them, ones even he'd probably not be able to resist now, but not that they'd pull out without very good reason. their head tilts, at his more genuine...not apology, exactly, but admission. "everyone's wrong, then," they frown a little, meeting his eyes again with her own, a little surprised but brushing the off quickly. she'll have to lay off those jokes, maybe — she's not looking to make him feel guilty, or like he's some prick. that feels a little too serious to say though, and they lick their lips. "they're exaggerating. you're a perfectly normal sized dick." she adds, an attempt to lighten the mood a little. "you're not taking me back, so i think it'd be nicer if you didn't like me," she smiles at him in return. "if you're single in six months, i will be very surprised," he'll have fumbled hard here if that's the case, with how many girls he's got wrapped up in him. "but you can send me a text, yeah. i can make up some business in canada."

JOSHUA

"shut up," he laughs, pushing her lightly in her shoulder. obviously he was looking. it's rude of her to try to get him to admit it. "did you really pack worse than what you wore that first night? because damn." in short of something she'd be wearing to the hideaway, he guesses. josh really hadn't said that everyone thinks he's a dick in a sympathetic way; surely she'd been on twitter regarding the show, and plenty of people were his antis. he had enough in the villa, god only knows what the viewers looked like. so he never really knows what to do when she argues against them, though the comment about his dick does make him laugh. he's tempted to reach for her, but knows that wouldn't really help their situation out. honestly, she probably only thinks so highly of him because it's been three days. if he did bring her back to the villa, she wouldn't think so well about him for long. "fine, then i hate you," he smiles, shamelessly. "you don't have to come to canada, we can meet somewhere in the middle. europe, maybe? spain?" josh laughs at his own words.

MALI

"i'll wear it tonight if you promise to look," she quips, knowing good and well he will look regardless, but never agree to that. she might wear it anyways, as a reminder of what he's choosing to miss out on. his stronger reaction to her words makes her laugh, her eyes rolling now. it definitely did not help when he smiles alongside the words, but she'll take what she can get. "hate is such a strong word, darling, please," they give him their best 🥺 eyes, as if genuinely hurt, turning out a good performance. "i suppose i can let you go, if you truly don't like me." she snorts, shaking her head. "what, so you can reject me again? i don't think so," she teases, touching his forearm lightly. "how's greece sound? i hear santorini is lovely in the spring."

JOSHUA

he gives her a look. "you know i'll be looking anyway." and not just because now it'll be on the forefront of his mind to look. since being in casa, mali has become the one that his eyes find first in the room. well, that or miles. maybe he should be considering bringing her back, but josh knows himself, and he knows that doing that wouldn't end well for anyone. besides, he really doesn't want to give mali mixed signals. "what do you want me to say then?" he smirks, impressed at how quickly she can turn the eyes on him. "i think you'll be just fine when you get out of here." josh prays to god that maddox or bash isn't bringing her back. "stop," he laughs, nudging her. "i can do santorini. i've been once before, but don't remember much of it." too blackout.

MALI

that's more than she was expecting and gives him a pleased, if a little surprised, smile. "i know. but i like to hear you say it." it's part of what's so frustrating about naomi being such an unknown — without her in the picture, this would be a sure thing, they're so confident in that with how josh looks at her, like he does now, like it's a given, that she knows it as well as he does. "you can give me the good old i just think we're better as friends line," she suggests, a little smile sneaking in. "what, are you that confident you're not breaking my heart here?" mali's teasing is still all smiles, light and unserious. she's confident she won't be going back at this point, anyways. she leans in a little bit at his touch, undoing the distance she put in between them earlier as a safe guard, perhaps stupidly. "too much to drink or too young? the beaches are to die for, especially if you can manage a private one." her smile turns more into a smirk at that, planting ideas of being alone again.

JOSHUA

"i don't want to be your friend," he deadpans. no point lying about it. "but if you want me to lie, i can do that." only then does josh flash her a dry smile, meeting her eyes. "i'm pretty sure you'll live, yeah." it's not like either of them can pretend that she'd ever be heartbroken by his ass. even josh knows that mali is too good for him—and if he needed a reminder, her talking about her private beaches doesn't hurt. "we get it, you're rich," he rolls his eyes, before flashing her a teasing smile. "nah, just too much to drink. went for spring break one year with my frat brothers. and before you ask, yes, it's exactly how it sounds." a lot of booze, a lot of girls with faces he doesn't remember, some of them speaking an entirely different language than him. "but the beaches are fun, for what i do remember. we did a booze cruise, which i remember liking too. if we end up going, we can do something a little more low key."

MALI

"then what do you want?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at him. it's not like they don't know, actually, what he wants from her. it's been made very clear, and she's probably his personal nightmare for casa, but she wants to pull it out of him anyways. "yeah, i will. i can live without you, darling, but i can be dramatic about, if you want the screentime." her smile brightens with the joke, teasing. they would genuinely miss him, though, they think. in another universe, maybe they got something more serious out of this. "hotels have private beaches, too," she slaps his arm gently, playful, mock outrage on their features but a twinkle in their eyes. "that tracks, for a frat boy like yourself." it's not like her trips there have been any better, though, probably just as messy, if not more so. "skip the booze cruise, but rent a sail boat or something, maybe. bring a bottle of wine and a picnic, go to one of those little islands they've got?" perhaps a bit too romantic for a former frat boy, but come on. she has standards.

JOSHUA

that's a good question, and for a moment he can't think of what to say. "fine, we can be friends," he finally relents. "but not, like, best friends. friends made from this weird ass experience that might hang out in greece together in six months, pending other obligations." the way he makes it sound like a business transaction is purposeful, though he flashes her a playful smile to show he's joking. "please, don't be too dramatic," he groans, unable to help himself. josh already knows that he's going to get his ass kicked for sleeping with mali, and the last thing he wants is for mali to play into the dramatics to completely ruin his chances with naomi. but he can't exactly blame her for that. "do you know how to sail?" his eyebrows raise lightly, "or are we renting someone to steer for us? that sounds like a very love island date. i think i can swing it. it's the least i could do."

MALI

she can't help the laughter that bubbles out at all his qualifications, nearly snorting it surprises her so much. "god, you sound like a lawyer. deal." his dramatics make them smile now, a little disappointed that he doesn't want more of a show, but they nod with a purse of her lips. it'd only make his time here worse, she's sure of that, but it'd be fun to give him some more attention in the mean time. though, truthfully, she can't believe this experience has gotten him a better edit. "you keep making fun of me for being a rich girl, and you think i can't sail?" a hand goes to her heart, shaking her head a little. "no faith in me at all, darling. but it's a date. i'll see you in six months, pending your other obligations." the way they say it makes it sound like work, because it certainly will be for him. there's a moment of comfortable silence for her before she pushes herself up, realizing she doesn't hear the beat boxing anymore, assuming they've since moved on to something else. "i should go find the others, don't want them getting the wrong idea," they say, hesitating a little. part of her wants to kiss him once more, since she knows in the next day or two, he won't be bringing her back and she likely won't get the opportunity again, but instead she leans over and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek, closer to the corner of his mouth than she probably should, but it's kind of like her way of saying goodbye. she shouldn't make it more difficult on him if she genuinely wants to see him again in a few months, should he and naomi not work out. "good night, darling. behave yourself with layla, or i might be a little miffed."

#joshua & mali ;#joshua ;#joshua & mali 006

1 note · View note

litgwritersroom · 3 years ago

Text

SEE YOU SOON

TIMGATE - THE DECIDER Alright, let's settle this, once and for all.

A couple has to decide which one of them will leave the villa.

Season 1 | Tim/MC | 1700 Words | (@mrsbsmooth)

🎵Baby by Aitch & Ashanti playing🎵

“We have to what?”

Talia read her message out again.

Tim and Mia, as a result of losing the challenge, one of you must leave the villa. In your couple, you must decide which one of you that will be. You have ten minutes.

The other islanders murmured between themselves, whispering about how unfair it was. They’d only lost because they’d been fucking around, throwing paint at each other instead of at the board.

If he’d known what was at stake, he would have taken it seriously.

Why couldn’t he have been serious, for once?

His eyes met Mia's, and he saw the sadness in them. Her huge, beautiful brown eyes, hiding a little, as they squinted from the huge smile on her face. But there was sadness in them. He knew not everyone would be able to see it… but he could. He knew her too well. His best mate. Best friend.

They walked over to the daybeds in silence, away from everyone else, settling in for a discussion. Or… lack thereof.

“I’ll go. You’ve got a way bigger insta following than me. If we’re getting the music thing off the ground you’ve gotta stay as long as possible” she said.

“Don’t be a prat, I’m goin’. My Mum’ll have my ass if I don’t at least pretend to be a gentleman about it. Plus, you’re way too hot to not find someone else here.”

She smiled. “I’ve been here since the beginning, same as you, bellend. I’m not gonna find anyone other than you who’s worth hanging out with. And we’re in a friendship couple. Plus… there’s Jen.”

Jen had recoupled with Jake, setting off a disaster recoupling that had seen Tim happily picked by his best mate. Jen had clearly expected Talia to pick Tim, because Jake was now unavailable. But Mia got there first. She was a good friend to Jen, to keep him in the villa.

But it mean that Levi had gone home, which surprised everyone. Levi was head over heels for Mia. And most of them had thought Mia had felt the same. Not that they’d know. The only person who knew how Mia felt was Jen, and she made a point of never telling him anything. But Mia had picked Tim instantly. No hesitation. He knew it was only because they were mates. But even so… he’d appreciated it.

It was nice to feel like he wasn’t expendable, for once. Like someone wanted him around.

He’d been trying to squash the crush he had on Mia down into a deep pocket of his body, but ever since he’d started sharing a bed with her… god, he could barely hide it any more.

Jen really was too posh for him. She wanted to change him. Didn’t like his tattoos. Didn’t like his rapping. But Mia… Mia did.

Despite being a mechanical engineer, she was a born musician. A drummer. She couldn’t beatbox or rap for shit, like his dream girl would’ve been able to. But give her thirty seconds and something to hit with, and she could drop a beat that he could drop some serious bars on. That, and the fact that when she sang, she sounded like Ashanti, and had a body to match… god. Imagine the music they could make together?

She was a bloody catch. He wasn’t sure how she’d even ended up on Love Island. Tim reckoned that if he looked like Jake or Levi, he’d be locking Mia down in an instant.

It was why he’d asked Jen not to pick him.

The official reason she gave everyone was that she wanted to be ‘sure’. But really… it was him. He was the one who wasn’t sure. But before he’d even had a chance to talk to her about it, Mia had just given him her answer.

She’d said it herself. Friendship couple.

And she was going to sacrifice herself so that he at least could give things another go with Jen.

Fuck, she’s a good mate.

“So yeah. I think we’re decided then. For the sake of the rap group. I’m goin’. Plus, it’s Love Island. If you were a true gentleman, you wouldn’t be here.”

He laughed, and she grinned at him, but sighed. “I just wish…”

“Wish what, that you could’ve had me this whole time?” he joked, nudging her with his arm.

She sighed. “Well, I’ll be going home in a little bit. So I ‘spose it doesn’t matter how badly I wish that.”

“Ha, yeah right.”

She looked hurt. Hurt. “Glad to know my feelings are a joke, to you, Tim. Makes me feel like a bloody idiot. So thanks for that.”

“Wait… are you havin’ me on?” his stomach dropped. “Mia, what the fuck? You like me?”

She looked at him, in absolute disbelief at what she was hearing.

“T, I’ve had a crush on you since day one. I feel like an idiot saying it out loud. But pretty much everyone else figured it out already. I thought you had, too, and just… weren’t interested. Did you seriously not know?”

He just looked at her, furrowing his brow, completely frozen. He had absolutely no fucking idea how to react to this news.

“I just wish I could kiss you, though. Just once.”

He still didn’t say anything.

He just nodded.

Tim wasn’t even sure who kissed who, but it only felt like a millisecond before his hands were in her hair, pulling her against him with the thirst he’d felt for her since the second they’d met. His lips against hers, his tongue pressing at her mouth, as she moaned into the kiss. He’d been told he was a good kisser. But knowing that she thought so made him feel lighter than air.

He heard the sound of excited screaming coming from the firepit, clearly enjoying the show, and he felt her exhale a laugh against him.

He hadn’t realised until now just how badly he wanted her. How important she was to him. Not just as a friend. He wanted more.

And it was only now? Now when she was about to leave? Now she tells him?

Fucking cruel.

As they finally broke apart, a phone’s alarm sounded from the firepit, and they were instructed to come back. They walked back, silently, hand in hand. He wasn’t sure what the fuck to say to her.

The faces of the other islanders were plastered in wide grins at what they’d just witnessed. No one’s wider than Jen’s, who looked absolutely made up about the fact that they’d finally figured it out.

But his face told a different story. A silent one.

Mia spoke up, quietly next to him, smiling, like it was all a big laugh.

“For the sake of the rap group… I’m going. Tim has a higher profile than me, as well as someone to stay for. So… yeah. It’s been real.”

She hugged all of the other islanders in turn, as he stood there, his mind absolutely racing.

How? Why? When? What? Who?

Well, no, he understood the who part.

But the rest of it was a completely mystery to him.

She’d sacrified herself for the sake of his career. Obviously he’d be bringing her along to hang out backstage if he got any gigs out of this. And she’d been planning to go back to uni anyway.

God he couldn’t wait to see her on the outside.

She came to him last, wrapping her arms around his waist as he kissed her forehead, just as he had so many times before.

“It’s going to suck being here without you. You... er... plug-ugly cow.” he whispered.

“Don't be a melt, you manky knob. I know. But you gotta do it. You just gotta win. Get back with Jen, and win.”

She kissed him gently on the lips, sending him back into a state of shock.

“Bye, Big T. I’ll see you on the outside.”

And she walked away, back into the villa.

Tim stood at the firepit, silently hating himself. Why hadn’t he seen it? He could have had a few days in here with her at least. She was doing this for his career. For him. Because she liked him. Maybe even more than that. You don’t sacrifice something like this for someone you just have a crush on.

You do it for someone you l...

“Give him a second” Jen's voice chuckled.

He looked up, and noticed everyone was staring at him, wide smiles on their faces. As if they were waiting.

Mia loved him.

Fucking hell.

She loved him.

The realisation came crashing over him like he’d fallen through a wormhole. Lying on the daybeds, laughing so hard they couldn’t breathe. The moment they'd realised her initials were MC - and she'd insisted it made her a better rapper than him. Insulting each other with increasing ferocity, with every swear word they knew, as they absolutely roasted each other and everyone around them.

Holding her tightly while she cried every time Levi treated her like dirt. After he cheated on her with Cherry, and she took him back. The way she looked at him. The feeling of her hair in his fingers as he kissed her. How it felt to have his arm around her waist as she slept.

He loved her, too.

And he was letting her go?

“What the fuck am I doing?” he said.

The others cheered, as he came to his senses.

And he bolted after her.

She was already in the bedroom, packing her bag. He chuckled, and walked straight past her, grabbing his bag too.

“What are you doing?” she furrowed her brow.

“Packing”

She froze. “Where are you going?”

“Home. With you.”

Her eyes went wide, and her face fell, as if she’d just heard something she couldn’t quite believe wasn’t made up in her head.

“You… what?”

He rolled his eyes. “Mia, you absolute daft minger. It’s called Love Island. There’s no point me staying here if I’ve already found love, and it’s walking out the door. Now shut your mouth, before I give you something to put in it.”

She practically fell over herself as she got up, throwing herself at him with such force that they both fell into their closet. He pressed his lips to hers, over and over, on the pile of their mixed clothes on the floor, holding her against him.

This was right.

This was how it should have been all along.

But that didn't matter now. Because this is how it would be from now on.

He had her.

Her arms wrapped around his waist, he tilted her chin up to his, pressing his lips softly to hers. Her enormous eyes looked glassy, and she looked like she was about to cry. He smiled at her as he admired her, almost feeling the warmth building inside him.

"God you're ugly" he whispered.

She beamed at him, cracking up laughing. She pressed her lips to his again.

Their bags packed, they walked to the door. The other islanders were waiting at the bottom of the stairs, beaming at them.

He laced his fingers with hers, nodded at Jen, who winked at him.

And, hand in hand, he walked out the door with her.

Big T and his MC.

[Sorry Em. I’m too much of a romantic at heart.]

#litg #litg s1 #litg tim #litg writers room #love island the game #writers room #prompt #timgate

75 notes · View notes

yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years ago

Text

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 11: Under Pressure •

TRIGGER WARNINGS: blatant homophobia from Nicklesmart The Beatboxing Jester™️ in disguise as someone you know, internalized homophobia throughout the whole chapter. As usual, will put a skip marker for the heavier scene before and after if you need/want to skip. It is not light, ngl 😔 [trigger words: f*iry + the f slur, each used on exactly one occasion, and (as an insult) queer. I'm so sorry, this was not easy for me either and please do not read this if any of this in any way bothers you, i won't be mad if you skip the chapter 💕]

A/N: Next chapter will be all fluff I promise 🥲, I'm so sorry, but I needed something that could solidify Richie and Y/n's friendship for good, and her helping him through his worst fear is the best way to do that and will be explored in other ways throughout the rest of the series, specifically in the sequel. all that aside, I missed you guys and this series so much!!

LGBTQ+ RESOURCES AND SELF HELP LINKS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE CHAPTER

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

- 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -

Richie keeps his eyes trained on the dried mud on his navy blue slip-ons as he makes his way across town, his mind buzzing twice as fast as it normally did. He felt as if his entire body had been put through a blender; his skull still vibrating in his head turning his brain into jelly. His stomach empty and lurching as it twisted into knots far more impossible than what you'd see from a circus performer and his heartbeat could rival a hummingbird's. Not to mention he was walking with two extra legs he'd grow from time to time, another freaky affect the physical and mental toll these past few weeks had put on him and his eyesight. The caffeine he had been living on hadn't helped him one bit either he reckoned.

Insomnia had become his best friend in the past few weeks, hence this last-minute trip to the old gravel pit just behind Derry Town dump. At least, this was the lie he told himself to pluck up enough courage to call Y/n up. Richie hoped she could talk him through it, give him some advice. He was never this nervous to talk to her and deep down in a corner he wished to bury forever - that small part of himself that begged to be free - knew exactly why. This small, repressed Richie Tozier that lived locked away in the center of his heart was calling the shots that day. Hell, he probably had been his whole life but he wasn't ready to admit that to himself yet, let alone his true attentions of seeking her help.

All he knew is he was nervous as all hell, his palms were sweating, he couldn't stop fiddling with his glasses and he was sure one wrong move and he'd shit his pants. For fucks sake, he needed to shake this! He had already freaked Y/n out, that he knew. He could still hear her voice over the receiver. It was soaked in static and every 's', or 'c' sound she made felt like a pencil was being shoved into his eardrums cause of her shitty outdated telephone.

"You," she had asked with a pause. "want to meet at... the dump?"

"Yeah," he scoffed, scratching the same spot behind his ear for what had to be the billionth time out of nervous habit. "you got wax in your ears, L/n?"

"Nope. Just, a little confused is all. You seem kinda... I don't know, squirrely," she said wearily, and through a sharp crackling hiss from the receiver he can make out a nervous chuckle on her end. "You sure nothin' jumped up your ass or anything?"

He bit his lip. Hard. As if punishing himself for drawing her suspicions this early. What if she somehow caught on to what he was gonna talk to her about? Her walk to the gravel pit would surely give her enough time to get to that conclusion, and Richie wasn't daft. He knew he wasn't exactly subtle about... "insomnia". What with how many times he teased insomnia, called it that special nickname he knew it hated but secretly loved. That forbidden flutter in his chest when insomnia would laugh at his jokes, and the small but precious moments they shared from time to time when the others were late that would stay in his heart and mind for weeks to come. But it didn't matter now, as everyone knew; insomnia kept Y/n's company now.

Thankfully his mouth was faster than his brain, and it fired a rapid response before a lull could form.

"You bet your fur," he fires, his lanky arm had rested awkwardly against the wall beside the wall mount. "I am right as rain, toots."

He of course hadn't seen it, but she had frowned at her phone. Her concern was growing with every word spoken from him.

"Yeah," she snorts, throwing back a sarcastic remark. "Cause you sound it."

She had eased a bit, growing soft and falling back into their usual banter. Their special dynamic always seemed to coax down his guard a bit.

"You're talking like a 1950's gangster in a speakeasy," She straightened a little and had begun pacing as much as the phone cord would allow her. "Ya know... More than usual."

Y/n smiled when she could practically hear the smirk taking over his face, and she certainly had no trouble picturing his hunched shoulders and intimidating snarl he was most likely dawning.

"It's a little somethin' called moxie, kid," he spoke with curled his words, imitating all the gangsters he had seen in those cheesy old films. "somethin' you just don't have,"

Y/n had rolled her eyes again, at least Richie could see her doing so when he heard her respond. "Right, right. My bad Baby Face."

"Hey!" He barked, snapping his fingers and pointing at the floor as if she could see him. His voice lowered in a thick Chicago accent. "That's mista Baby Face to ya."

"Mista Baby Face Nelson!" She strained, her annoyed shout tainted with a laugh. "Are we meeting at five or not?"

Richie released a quick and silent breath, expelling as many nerves as possible.

"You bet your fur."

The exchange kept playing over and over in his mind and Richie wondered if the same rang true for Y/n. He hoped not, cause that would mean she was thinking about it too much. Hell, he was thinking about it too much now. A heavy sigh rolls off of his chest as every anxiety collectively manifests into its own dark thought.

Fuck, he really had it bad.

How pathetic he was.

Eddie would surely be horrified to know what Richie really thought of him, that was for sure.

And as if he hadn't felt crazy enough, the thoughts actually began to feel like voices calling him from the darkest shadows of his mind.

'And the other Losers? You'll be lucky if they even look at you again.'

Richie was surprised to find himself fighting back, pushing back as much as he could. Despite all the jokes and jabs, he couldn't be completely alone. A small part whispered in his heart that he wasn't, and he thought briefly of the turtle strangely enough but it was gone just as soon as it had come. All he knew was that whatever was telling him this thing was stubborn. But so was Richie Tozier.

He treated it as an intrusive thought. Made a decision then and there that it was, never occurring to him what it could be if wasn't.

No way. Not those assholes, he tells the voice. These are the Losers for fucks sake!

The more he thought about it the more he was sure of it. God forbid Eddie did find out, which Richie had no intention of, and what would happen was in fact unclear. But no matter how he looked at it, he just couldn't picture the little spaghetti man ever cutting him out of his life completely. Not by choice at least.

Now Ben, that lovable sappy haystack of his that was too passionate for his own good. Richie may not be the silent type but he does pick up on things, and Hanscom's affections for Beverly Marsh were far from subtle. Always opening doors for her and turning redder than a tomato when she smiled at him. Not to mention Richie was about ninety percent sure there was a poem of some sort involved. And that was just Beverly, Ben was always thinking of the Losers. Now Richie knew for sure that boy had no hateful bone in his body to the point it was fucking annoying.

Mike, Richie felt, might be a little similar. The kid had a lot of heart, always going on about the animals on his farm. Would even go as far to say he considered them his friends, what with how much Richie knew about Mooriuel the calf and he hadn't even met her for cripes sake! Richie imagined he'd be a bit more shocked but would try some sappy speech when he came around. Would make a whole big thing of it, pat him on the back, and even invite a conversation. He scoffed at the thought, the image of Mike slapping him on the back and his signature grin... Yeah, he appreciated the hypothetical gesture but it wasn't Richie's style.

He could easily see Big Bill sputtering up a storm, but managing a smile. He'd probably even manage to forget their differences long enough to say something stupid but supportive. And Beverly and Stan were the ones he worried about the least. Stan would probably be too indifferent to care, throw him some snarky ass comment like, "took ya long enough, dipshit," and Beverly? Well, Beverly had always been cool, very laid back. She never took shit, and she never dished it out if she didn't think it was deserved which Richie admired greatly. This was one of many reasons he was so shocked she had taken Bill's side in the fight.

The thought brings him back down again, and as soon as the memory touches him so do the nerves in his jaw tensing up again where he had been hit. He could feel the punch all over again. And he suddenly remembers why he is here.

He is here, he realized.

Just around the bend, coming into view was the gravel pit. Old and crumbling it was, and overrun with weeds and bushes. One could easily scale in and out of it, and at the very bottom Rich had discovered one day was a beaten and tattered leather seat from a car that found its way from the junkyard just a ways over. This was where he told Y/n to meet him.

Y/n...

Jesus fuck, what would Y/n say? How would he tell her? Would she still wanna be friends with him? Would she laugh and crack a joke, not taking it seriously? Would she hate him for it? More importantly, why in the ever-loving fuck was he here and willing to tell her?

His gangly legs tumble into a sprint as he picks up momentum descending the uneven terrain. The rubber soles of his shoes kicking up the layers of dirt and shaved gravel that lay beneath the rocks and he had to put effort into not crashing as he comes to a stop. He manages to avoid a nasty fall, completely ignorant to the fact that his right foot had been only inches away from a root peeking out from the rocks surely would have broken his neck had he made even one wrong move. He puffs out his chest, dusting himself off, and once again tries to dispel the nausea broiling in his stomach like hot tar.

He closes his eyes tiredly as he drags his feet to the leather bench, letting his backside fall through the air and into the somewhat plush cushion with a deep groan. "Fuck."

His fingers rub his tired eyes, his fingertips finding bits of crust he hadn't gotten earlier and his knuckles brush his glasses further up onto his forehead. Not quite knowing what to do with the overwhelming thoughts and emotions clouding him, his fingers dig further into his eye sockets until all he can see are inky splotches behind his eyes.

Richie doesn't know why he would ever think those things of Y/n. He hadn't ever told her this, not directly at least, but she was just about the only person in the world he trusted most. He knew in his heart of hearts this was why he found himself dialing her number before he could even register what he was doing. Even after their separation and the bitter feelings they took with it, the Losers were and always would be his best friends in the world.

So why did everything about this feel so wrong?

From the moment the phone call ended, he felt like he was waltzing into a trap like some putz...

"Well, look who it is..." snarled a voice from up above the surface.

Richie's blood ran cold and it felt as if the remainder of the air in his lungs had been squeezed out like air in a deflating balloon. He whipped around at the voice, his head twisting up at the silhouetted figure so fast he was shocked he hadn't broken his own neck. The figure held their hands on their hips, thousands of the sun's rays spilling around them as they blocked out a part of the sun, an advantage they reaped from where they stood before Richie at just the right angle. His breath caught in his throat as he had recognized the voice immediately, but the figure didn't quite match the voice.

The last thing person he needed to see right now was Henry fucking Bowers, that was for sure.

The universe agreed so it would seem. The figure shifted, just out of the light revealing the teasing smirk of his best friend Y/n. Her hands snapped together, her palms forming a handgun, the barrel aiming right at Richie's forehead.

"The jig is up," she snarled. "We knows it was you. You was the ones to steal from Big Bill's dame, and I wouldn't be surprised if yous was in cahoots, neithers."

Despite the fear that had clutched his heart only seconds ago, a small chortle left Richie at how awful her accent was. Hadn't she learned anything from him? A smug smile overtook Y/n's face as he broke. She holstered her handguns and gracefully descended the pile of gravel. His smile expired not long after, and despite the thin veil of clouds creeping over the sun the light in the sky was much too hard to even glance at his friend without blinking back several painful searing tears from the harsh light. But he could still make her out.

She was dressed in her usual ratty and eclectic garb; a mix of something far too big for her frame and something that seemed far too tight to be comfortable. Richie was certain she had never once owned even a thread of clothing that had always been hers. Her s/c brow had its usual, light glossy sheen of grease that Richie had learned very early on to not ask about. But there was something about her now, something he couldn't quite place.

Though one question kept popping up in his mind. One that left an itch in his brain he couldn't quite scratch in his dazed state. And that was how could he have possibly thought she sounded like Henry Bowers?

He finds himself looking down at the gravel now, wiping away as much of the sun's damage pooling in his eyes as he can. Unbeknownst to him, she watches him studiously, the ghost of her smile still on her lips as if she was enjoying his discomfort. His long and gangly limbs are folded awkwardly, still, onto the leather seat that sits on the ground. Finally, she takes a seat beside him with a huff as he had.

As he rubs his tired eyes for a second time she takes a long look around, breaking the silence when her trip around the gravel pit lands on him.

"Well, you've looked better." She quips, offering a smile.

Richie snorts, pushing his slipping glasses up the bridge of his nose with a friendly smirk. "This comin' from Raggedy Ann?"

They both breathe a small laugh and for a moment - just one beautiful, fleeting moment - Richie forgets he was ever scared. This is what he needed.

"So," she says, pulling his gaze towards her, sending him a cocky smile as a knowing look sparkles behind her eyes. "I'm guessing there's a reason I'm here, and not helping you with your summer training?"

Richie, for reasons unknown to him, feels his muscles tense up again involuntarily. Like a puppeteer suddenly yanking the strings, ripping his shoulders up to his ears and his muscles bracing. He felt rigid and he was, but he was doing all he could not to show it. All his unease came back in steady waves marching up the sand, but what could he do now? He could already feel her eyes burning holes into the side of his head as he kicked around a sizeable rock with the toe of his shoe, studying him. Waiting.

Finally, his shoulders slumped in a shrug, lower lip in an indifferent pout as he looked around at the sky hanging above the gravel pit.

"Just needed a change from all those ugly mugs, I guess," he manages a laugh, and he rises to his feet to lazily chase the rock that had rolled out of his reach.

He can feel her eyes on him still, and he doesn't know what to make of it until finally she breaks her silence with a chuckle and rises to join him. She catches the rock with the heel of her dirtied sneakers. They're worn down to the very last thread and several shades off from the original color. She kicks the rock back to him, and they engage in a lazy game of rock soccer.

"I can understand that," she says calmly, eyes trained on the rock as it tumbles across the gravel with several chunky clanks. "Reckon it'll be good for you, too,"

He frowns confused without looking up at her, winding one lanky leg back before one big kick. "Whad'ya mean?"

"Well, you don't wanna spend your whole summer inside of an arcade, do you?"

Richie's face freezes in a frown, the rest of his body going rigid. His eyes cement on the rock underneath his shoe, willing away the veil of tears that threatened to fall. Had he not been so caught up on why he was here, Richie might have had a clear enough head to realize Y/n wasn't there for that conversation, nor had she heard about it from anyone there. Instead, all Rich can think about is the small hypochondriac boy that had stolen his heart.

He can hear the conversation he had with his best friend, all those weeks ago when school let out. And if felt like a lifetime since he had seen that squishable, pouty little disgusted frown Eddie always put on that made Richie's inside melt. As if reading his mind, Y/n spoke.

"This is about Eddie, isn't it?"

Her tone is gentle but veiled. Something was concealed about the way she held herself, ever since she had arrived, something that Richie couldn't quite place. And there it was. He was right about her suspecting him, he must be. Richie battles the lump forming in his throat, and he can feel his ears turning pink under her unwavering and unblinking stare.

Richie does all he can to fight a snarky response, not knowing how else to navigate and survive the intensity of his feelings. All he manages to do is nod.

[■■■■■■■■■■■■]

"Rich, it's okay," she says, taking a step forward, his gaze is pulled to her eyes. And here it is, he thinks. The moment he had been dreading, the moment he hadn't even allowed himself to think about. "...I miss him, too."

His face caught in another frown. That's definitely not what he expected her to say. Quickly as he could, he wiped away a spot of snot at his nose. He had managed to keep the tears at bay but now they had found another way out. He felt like a fucking fool, and he wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Of course she didn't know what he was talking about. Why would she - how would she? His spirits were crushed, and he suddenly didn't feel like getting into it now. She seemed off today, not that Richie cared. All he wanted was for this whole day to be over with, not even knowing the worst had yet to come.

She studies his reaction, almost as if she had been waiting for this and she blinks for what Richie is now starting to realize must be the first time since she got here. Y/n's face screws into a frown, and yet there still lingered an uneasy smile that taunted him. Her eyes squint suspiciously at Richie, her head tilting in an expression he never knew he had always feared would come.

She laughs finally, a shrill and grating laugh he hadn't quite heard before and she nudges him playfully. "Oh, come on! It's not like you've got some faggy crush on him or something?"

When he doesn't answer, she scoffs, turning away and shaking her head in disbelief for a moment.

Richie felt he just might vomit. Or cry. Or both. He had never felt so distraught, so dejected. So broken.

How could she be saying these things?

He tries with all his might to conjure a response, any fucking thing at all so he wasn't some blubbering broken chump breaking down in front of her. But for the first time in his life, Richie "loudmouth" Tozier was speechless.

That fuck-awful grating laugh returns, a sour look screws up her face as she looks him up and down in disgust.

"Wait, seriously?" She gapes with a scoff, making him feel about two inches tall. "You actually think he'd want to be with some fairy freak like you?"

"F-f-uck off," he sputters, though he does not feel better.

The trembling in his voice, the vulnerability, hearing it in himself strips any remaining scrap of confidence he had left. He's crying now and there's no hiding it. And she heard it in his voice, he knew that now as he looks at her. Her lips curl into a malicious smile and she takes another step closer, Richie fumbles a step back.

"He isn't some," her nose crinkles as she continues to advance on him, the fire in her eyes building as he stumbles back to escape her sudden venom. "rotten queer like you."

Y/n spits the words out like they were poison on her tongue, and this was true in every way. Her fiery stare never left Richie, it burned holes right through him as she advanced on him like a wolf on a wounded doe. They were nearing the edge of the gravel pit, and Richie had nearly run out of room when her finger stabbed his chest like a sword's final strike to the heart, pushing him to the ground as she spoke those poisonous words.

Richie felt his backside meet several jagged rocks that brought even more tears to his eyes, though none of them hurt as much as her words. She towered over him now, the sun beating down on her back and pouring over her shoulders, trapping Richie in her shadow. She shakes her head, and he can still make out the pathetic look on her face as she glowers at him.

"It's girls he likes. It's me he likes." she points to herself, shaking her head. "He was mine the second he saw me, but you?"

She scoffs again, and her shadow releases him as she kneels to balance on her feet, legs folded before him with a snide look.

"You've always been the insufferable loudmouth he couldn't get rid of." A sharp laugh escapes her, the clutch on his heart tightening to dangerous amounts he fears it will give out. "Well, I guess he doesn't have to worry about that now, huh?"

His heart feels as if it has been ripped to shreds, the claws of the wolf had struck and now he was drowning in his own sorrows as pain as the heartbreak filled his lungs. Richie could no longer see behind the thick wall of glassy tears that blanketed his eyes, and the sounds of his own sobs amplified his embarrassment and despair. He was hopelessly broken, and he could feel himself crumble, each piece disappearing amongst the gravel underneath him until he couldn't be found. He blinked only once, but it was enough to send every tear racing down his cheek at once.

Another malicious smile contorts her face, her e/c eyes burning darker until they looked almost a completely different shade. Her lips seemed to stretch on and on and on in a way only one thing could. And it was then that it occurred to him.

Not one thing she had said to him is something he could have ever prepared himself for, each word constricting his heart and lungs and swelling his throat with the ever-growing lump.

Nor was any of it something she would ever dream of saying, he knew this now.

[■■■■■■■■■■■■]

This wasn't Y/n, this was never Y/n. She had never showed, and if he hadn't been so wrapped up in his own fucking head he would have caught on from the second "Y/n" arrived. Especially that entrance, Y/n surely would have fallen on her ass on her way down into the gravel pit never mind the fact her accent wouldn't be nearly as shit.

But none of this mattered now. This thing that looked like his friend had him cornered, and It knew it.

A wicked grin overtook the mask of Y/n's face that chilled Richie to his bones, and yet it also reassured him. Y/n was tough and could be scary from time to time, but he knew she could never be capable of the pure evil that now danced in It's eyes. Richie's body was already in motion, his arms and legs scrambling for any sort of grip that could take him up the side of the pit and to safety. But the gravel beneath him was always shifting, rolling out from underneath him when it wasn't raking his palms to pieces and all he was accomplishing was a small plume of dust that clung to his backside.

Richie didn't know where it came from, but his actions were faster than his feelings as his fist collided with It's nose. And no sooner did the heel of his shoe collide in a painful crack that sent It's head back, did his eyes widen in horrific shock. The painful crack that would surely haunt him for many nights to come, had not been from the collision of his heel on It's nose but It's head - or Y/n's as this was still It's disguise - had snapped completely back and dangled completely off It's/her shoulders.

The only thing connecting her head to her shoulders was the suit of s/c skin. Protruding from the center of her neck just under the skin was the end of her spine where it had disconnected, giving away a disturbing lack of muscles and veins in her neck as if it had been hollowed out like a pumpkin. Her head rolled back and forth limply, and Richie could feel bile climbing up his throat, ready to burst out his digested mac and cheese.

His mind was screaming at his legs to run while all was still but a small part of him knew this was all a gambit, that it didn't matter if she was frozen stiff or not. Richie knew as soon as he booked it, It would spring to life with something even more twisted. That now, without his friends, he was as good as dead.

And It was more than happy to prove Richie right.

The clone of his friend sprang to life, It's head still rolling around on It's shoulders. Connected only by the skin of It's neck, and moving around like some fucked up slinky toy. Richie was already halfway up the gravel pit, bits of rock and dirt finding their way into his shoes as he kicked up the earth though that was the farthest thing from his mind.

By the time Richie reached the top of the pit, he could no longer hear the thunderous boom of his heart attempting to break loose from his chest, which was saying an awful lot. His screams echoed out into the air only to be swallowed by the screams of other children and Richie didn't know how he knew this but he knew those were the screams of Betty Ripsom, Ed Corcoran... Georgie Denbrough. The bloodied screams of It's victims were drowning Richie as he ran for the junkyard, and he wondered if he might live to hear them stop.

The screams were so fucking loud in his ears he could see them. Each of them a blinding, deafening, gut-wrenching, and blood-curdling scream that danced through the air like ribbons as they begged for their lives. Richie cried out and he couldn't even hear his own voice, but he didn't let this stop his legs from pumping as hard as they possibly could. He was nearly to the junkyard, surely he could use something to fend It off but he knew he was just buying time.

He could taste the blood on his tongue from where his teeth bit into his cheek. In all his short life, Richie Tozier would not have guessed child-eating clown to be the way he'd kick the can. When ever the thought of death began troubling him, he always liked to picture something like a western. Him and his rightful enemy squaring off against good and evil, he'd shoot first and save the day but still sustain an injury and bleed out. But it'd be a hero's death. And that was something.

But this... this was something born out of darker than evil and Richie was about to be pulled into the gravity well of this black hole and swallowed up. And he knew in his soul, the very pits of his stomach it would reach out with its shadowy arms and pull him into darkness.

And it did.

Richie had been rapidly approaching the edge of the junkyard without realizing and within an instant found himself on the ground, caved in on himself as he tumbled in the dirt and rocks accepting he was to join them soon enough. He closed his eyes and waited for death as a hand curled around his shoulder and pulled him around. Another jolt of shock shot through his entire body at the sudden contact, locking his jaw and paralyzing his entire body in fear as he was met with the new threat. He didn't dare open his eyes, and certainly not when he heard his best friend's voice again.

"Richie! Richie?"

It was her again, he realized. Y/n's real voice, the one that he heard on the telephone that was dripped in static. The one now dripped in fear.

"Richie?!"

When the boy opened his eyes, they were filled with terror and his sobs continued. A lense Y/n never thought she'd see Richie look at her through. Her heart broke in an instant when she realized he was afraid... of her. Instantly, she released him and let her backside fall back into the gravel. She watched through a thick wall of tears as he trembled, crying to himself, and never in all her life had she seen Richie Tozier so broken.

It tore her apart.

She didn't have to be a genius to realize what had happened here. Before she had even reached the junkyard on her bike she had heard his screams strangled through the wall of trees gating the area. When she had reached the gravel yard, she was happy to see him still in one piece but he was running for his life from an invisible force. The damn coward had gotten what It wanted and scared him shitless, but why would he disappear just because she showed? She had wondered.

Now she was beginning to understand. It didn't need to be here to scare her. Just the sight of Richie in such a state was enough to tear her down and it took just about everything in her not to scream into the sky from a mix of fury and fear.

Besides the tears that race down her cheeks and wet her legs, all Y/n could feel was a painfully numbing fear. Fear that Richie would never be the same. Fear that Richie would never speak to her again. Fear that Richie would never trust her again. Fear for whatever the fucking hell that thing did to Richie. Fear that It would do it again.

All she felt now was fear for Richie.

Y/n doesn't bother to fight the sob that breaks loose, her bottom lip quivers violently and her arms fall to the gravely pavement beneath her. As if her head had filled with lead, it grew heavy enough to fall into her chest where her chin landed, shaking several more tears loose.

"I'm s-so sorry, Richie,"

Y/n yearns to say more, but her body is physically weak from sadness and shame. Yet still, she repeats it in her mind hoping with everything in her it slips out of her mouth, or maybe if she thought them loud enough he'd hear them in his mind.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry for whatever happened. I'm so goddamn sorry...

"I'm sorry," she whimpers. "I promise..."

I promise I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise I'm not gonna hate you. I promise I'm gonna be there for you, from now on. I promise.

Her sniffles blend with his own, and Richie is unsure why this is the moment he knows for sure this is the real Y/n before him; maybe he was just too exhausted to think it through, perhaps it was the godawful sound she was making trying to keep herself from snotting as bad as he was but he knew It had gone. And the Y/n sitting beside him — crying with him, was the one he dialed up today. This was the Y/n he had been prepared to bare his soul to. His true self.

So with one shaky hand — the other still tucked in close to his chest — Richie's left hand slid out from under him and across the gravel to Y/n's open palm. Her fingers were digging into the gravel, sharp edges of the rock digging into her skin as if to assure herself she was really real. Suddenly, she felt Richie's shaky palm slide underneath hers, carefully taking it.

Y/n picked her glassy stare up from the ground to look at their intertwined hands, and she melted a little. Several of those fears — not all of them, but some — were ebbed away and she looked to Richie. He was still curled up in the dirt, his eyes closed and silent tears streaking his dirt-covered face. Each tear paved a path of clean skin, washing the dirt away in wild streaks where ever each tear had fallen. Several large and swollen beads of tears collected at his chin where they dangled, threatening to fall.

She gave his hand a squeeze, letting him know she was there for him as she had promised him. And she was ready to sit with him for as long as he needed.

For hours that feel only like minutes, they sit together in tear-filled silence, clinging to one another's presence and the knowledge that they are now all they have left.

And there was no way they were letting go.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Here are some LGBTQ+ resources for mental health and self help if you feel you need them:

How do I find LGBTQ friendly therapy?

An article on safe ways to find the best sources of help that are right for you

The Trevor Project

Self Care Tips for Trans and Non Binary Folks

+++

Taglist:

@seasidecrowbar @geniedocroe @sivords @ravenclawsprincess @kricketwritesstories @plum-duels @edmunds-torch @rosi3e @welcome-to-derry @beepbeep-pennywise @ongaku-ato-kakikomi @cocastyle @peachysinnermon @cloudymotel @captainshazamerica @kaitlynjones12 @songbird-writes @traceylader @annimalq @russian-romanova @witch-of-all-things-soft @blogforhoes @darkcrystal-wolf @astrobre @opalpuff4073

❥ Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! ❥

#it #scars that heal #sth #sth 🎈#it 2017 #eddie kaspbrak x reader #eddie kaspbrak x fem!reader #tw f slur #tw homophobia #tw homophobic attack #homophobia #f slur #the losers x reader #losers club x reader #the losers club #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #richie tozier x platonic!reader #under pressure

40 notes · View notes

migeviellardi · 4 years ago

Text

My Headcanons for Turtles (mostly Donnie thou’ cause he’s my fave) *tcest dni*

Donnie

He loves rain and swimming, since Softshell turtles spend more time underwater

He’s great at beatboxing

After S2 finale, he began to learn Kung fu style fighting* (thanks to Kung Fu Panda movie)

Extremely fast swimmer and can hold breath at least 4 hours

Meat-lover pizza

Can actually growl and hiss, just like Raph

The only sport he’s good at is Ping-Pong

Knows sign language and read lips

He read manuals and plays simulations of many kind of vehicles just to cure boredom

He have his own Mind Palace

*side note : I might have an idea to make fics based on this because I’m dying to have him interact with my oc. Hopefully I have enough mentality to make one.

Raph

Despite having a large and bulky hands, he’s good at building Wodden ship model 3D puzzle (something that Hueso might share to the snapper)

He doesn’t mind eating things raw

Meat-lover pizza

Can growl and hiss, he could roar but refuse to do so because he doesn’t want to scare anyone

He knows beak-clicking language

He learns to be auto-mechanic from Donnie, due to him using the turtle tank more often than his brothers, also because his big muscles needs to put into work more than just hugging and fighting

Leo

Yes, I also agree that Leo and Donnie are twins, and Leo’s the younger twin

Definitely loves pineapples on pizza

Might have tendencies to chew on carrots🥕, and teasingly says ‘What’s up, Doc?’ at anyone seeing him do so

Slightly perfectionist, especially his belongings. Making everything in his rooms looks neat and tidy. Helps built his charming persona, he said.

He loves summer and dying to go to the beach

Mikey

He secretly have this ability to smell if the foods lacking on something to make it taste good (just like in Ratatouille)

Slowly learning French accents, dunno why

Chef Mikey + Dr Delicate Touch = Gordon Ramsay

Loves all kind of pizza, including the one with pineapple on it

Box turtles might not a good swimmer, but Mikey can swim just fine and adequately. He’s got human DNA for god sake!

Mikey has a Diary book

#rottmnt #rottmnt headcannons #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt raphael #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt michelangelo #this is fun #need to get this off my chest

51 notes · View notes

engenuity · 4 years ago

Text

if i trip, if i fall

pairing: jay x gn! reader

words: 0.8k words

genre: angst, fluff, hopeful ending

note: inspired from this song. hope everyone who relates to this song understand that it’s alright to fail and it’s alright not to meet other people’s expectations. give yourself a break. you’re human. take care of yourself first before worrying about what other people will say to you. sending hugs and love.

This apartment is heaven.

It’s like every year, gratitude and contentedness fills you whenever you think of this place that has been your home for three years now. The rent is alright, and sometimes even allows you to save some money. It’s in the floor you wanted, exactly four floors above. Open-space, with a painted white interior. Enough windows for the sunlight and air to pour in. A lovely landlord. Framed images and polaroids decorating the walls.

It’s not everything you imagined when you were three foot and dreaming—as an infinite fountain of your favorite probiotic drink still doesn’t exist—but it’s wonderful and enough. It’s a space that’s completely yours. Everything is from and for you.

Beat.

Now, adding to the lists of the things why you appreciate this apartment and the building as a whole is that your neighbor and schoolmate, Jay, plays the beatbox and sings on some nights. You’ve met him on the hallways maybe more than twice, only exchanging some small talk. You’ve met him on the same university practically never.

Beat.

Jay’s one of the most-sought out man in your school. He’s a sophomore on the business department but he’s well-known all around. Some of the girls you’ve encountered who are pining after him describes him like this: handsome, rich, smart, and hot. You don’t disagree.

Beat.

“Then am I the monster? Just let me know,”

— “ please don’t let me fall. “

Beat.

Those things seem trivial now. Walls in between, you can hear the desperation and pain in his voice.

As if triggered, a memory resurfaced in the front of your mind.

“You’re taking dance?”

You were just back from your classes that day, while Jay seems to be going somewhere. Your major must be apparent with your shirt displaying the name of your school’s dance team.

“I am.”

An awe-struck smile on his lips, it’s like his face has gotten twice brighter.

“I wanted to take dancing.”

Giving a surprise look at him, you asked;

“Then why didn’t you?”

The answer came only in the form of a bitter smile, then he went his way leaving you pondering in front of your own doorstep.

You didn’t even remember you had this interaction before.

Everyone talks about how Jay will succeed his parents in managing their grand company—that his education and diploma are only for the sake of formality. Rumor has it that he dominates all his subjects. Teachers and students alike praise him and look at him as if he holds the whole world in his hand.

Connecting all the dots, you thought, ah.

The question resurfaced again.

“Then why didn’t you?”

Beat.

He finished singing, though your thoughts continued to bother you. Even though you’ve only exchanged simple conversations for two years of being neighbors, you wanted to help. You’d rather hear him trying to reach the high notes of Elsa’s Into the Unknown than this.

The next day finds Jay who had just woken up. Still, he already feels tired. He has no drive to attend school. He has no drive to meet expectations after expectations. However, he’s forced to meet whoever thought it’s a good idea to ring someone’s doorbell at five in the morning.

As if fate’s making fun of his miserable state, no one was there on the door when he opened it. Trying to calm and rationalize himself, he inhaled deeply only to choke on air when there, on the floor, lies an invitation for a dance club.

Three weeks later, you and Jay are already forming an unbreakable bond, as both of you struggle to catch your breath after heartily laughing inside the empty classroom. It was a pitiful attempt to get yourself together, though, when Jay continued his rant on why you shouldn't make fun of his childhood pictures.

It was difficult to explain just why on earth you gave the club invitation to your business department neighbor when you were supposed to give it to an underclassman of the same department as you. You did your best to defend and secure his position though, and Jay didn’t disappoint when he absolutely floored everyone in his audition.

Jay asked you why, once. You explained the events that lead you think that he might want to join. The dance club will not give him a diploma, but he’s tearful when he’s expressing his gratitude to you. At that moment, you knew yourself you have absolutely no regrets in ringing your neighbor's doorbell in an ungodly hour, intending to personally invite him, only to chicken out last minute and leave the poor piece of paper in his doorstep.

The season changes.

Aching bellies due to unconstrained laughter, chasing each other during the water breaks, eating pizzas and donuts on the studio’s floor, all-nighters to study routines—sooner or later he became an integral part in your life. Sometimes when you feel your heart skipping a beat, or when your chest feels so heavy with emotion, you can’t help but to think that you’re risking too much.

Jay, however—with his lingering touches, clinginess, and apparent fixation in ruffling your hair, acts with so much fondness and looks at you as if you’ve offered and gave the world to him—assures you with his actions that he’s there. He’s there and he’ll catch you once you take the leap of pursuing something more with him.

#enhypen jay #enhypenwriters #enhypennetwork #eunice writes #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfictions #enhypen scenario

66 notes · View notes

terracottaalchemist · 5 years ago

Note

i love a lot of those prompts but what if you did 44 with Davekat 🥺🥺👉👈

Your wish is my command!

You're So Annoying

Pairing: Davekat

Prompt: 44: "I see you smiling...come on, laugh!"

Your name is DAVE STRIDER, and you can't believe that this is happening to you. Twice. Not only did you already spend three of your adolescent years on a meteor, hurling towards the boss fight of a lifetime, but here you are, a grown man, traveling through space again. And you have to admit, it is just as boring as you remember it being.

You look over your shoulder to see your beloved Karkat reading one of his raunchy romance novels. He gets so into them, you can't help but chuckle. And like the good matesprit/kismesis/ boyfriend you are, you decide to go fuck with him.

Fuck. You pause at the word. No, you mean bother him, not fuck him. Fuck with him. fuck.

You regain focus. His ears flick to pick up the sound of your socked feet padding across the bedroom, right to where he lays comfortably in his pile.

"Mind if I join you," you ask sweetly.

"Mmrrg, just don't move too much," he says without looking up.

You take that as the warm welcome it is and flop down, making sure to knock the book with your elbow a bit.

"Watch it!"

"Sorry dude." You bite down a grin, wiggle up to him, and toss your arm over his shoulders. Damn, you miss being taller than him, but not really. It's just a bit of a stretch, that's all. Karkat glances at you. You smile as big and obnoxiously as you can. He just chuckles and goes back to his book.

After a few minutes of you trying to read along, he jerks upright. Without a word, he grabs your wrist, pulls it down, and leans back. Your arm curls softly around his side now, and you tug him closer so it's more like a half-spoon. Hell yeah, you could get down with this.

Or not. Despite the affection, he's still ignoring you. Oh well, you try to keep yourself busy.

"Dave, stop trying to hum your shitty slam poetry. You're doing it directly into my ear, which, may I remind you, is hundreds of times more sensitive than yours."

"Dave, for fucks sake, beatboxing is just as bad!"

"Oh my- Dave I will make you sleep on the floor! I'm trying to read, just shut the bulge scraping fuck up!"

"Alright alright," you say. "I'm sorry." You wrap both arms around him, tucking your nose into his hair. He huffs, but he leans back into you. Hm...this is no good. Sure, you want to annoy him, but not if he's just going to not annoy you back! You feel his core tense under your hands as his eyebrows pinch, nearing the end of his chapter. He's so cute when he's reading.

And the clouds part to make way for your genius mind. Your brilliance is astounding. Why didn't you think of it earlier? You have a plan.

You slowly tuck your hands under the hem of his sweater and slide up to place them on his cute stomach. So cute. Karkat hums in shy approval. You wait patiently, rubbing small circles into his purring chest, until you can't wait any longer.

With an evil grin, you dig your fingers into his ribs, right below his sensitive grubscars.

"Da-AHA!" He yelps. His back arches forward, stretching his ribs out for you even more, before slamming back into your chest. He curls his limbs in like an armadillo, but his head stays thrown back, choking down laughter. You tease his soft sides, poking and fluttering your fingers across every inch. Karkat nearly bites his lip off, refusing to give you the satisfaction of getting his reaction.

"I see you smiling...come on, laugh!" You wrap around him even tighter, ticking up and down his stomach like you were born to do it.

"F- Fuuaahahaha! Fuck y-ouuhuhuhhmhmhm!" He tries to turn around and smack you, but he's trapped in your lap. Or, at least you think so. He's too ticklish to escape, plus you know he likes it.

"Dahahave, I'm waA- I'm waaharning yOUHU!" So loud. He squirms left, right, forward and back, trying to escape your grasp without loosing his page. He still won't pay attention to you? Well, desperate times call for desperate measures. With all the courage you can muster, you slam your hands into Karkat's armpits.

Or, at least you try.

See, before you could even switch tickle spots, Karkat throws his book to the floor, drags you out of his pile, and pins you to the floor by the wrists of your shirt. The troll strength in his gorgeous hands and arms holds you down, combined with his flustered, red face, makes your heart bounce. God, he's so beautiful when he's mad.

"Dave...fucking...Strider...." You wait for him to say more, but it doesn't look like he's going to, for once. With a deep, sexy growl, he tears the sleeves clean off your arms and carves his claws down the centre of your shirt. Karkat yanks the fabric from underneath you and throws it away.

"Aw man, I loved that one! You owe me a new shirt, babe."

"Don't you fucking babe me! I'll kill you!"

"Kinky," you say, as if you can't dig your own grave any faster. "Wanna let me up now? I won't tickle you anymore, let's just cuddle." You smile.

Karkat doesn't smile. He sneers. Suddenly, you feel very nervous about being under your very strong, very angry matesprit/kismesis/human boyfriend, in nothing but your pajama pants. With anime-villian red eyes and anime-villian shark teeth, you begin to realize the gravity of your situation.

"W..wait, Karkat. Um, I didn't- I," you stutter uselessly. Your hands shoot down to stop the claws raking up your sides, but he's just so strong. There's no stopping him, and you both know it. You whine, urging yourself to stay still. If you don't move, he won't see you. Right?

"You didn't what, Dave? Didn't think this through?" You close your eyes, but it just makes the sensations worse!

"Ah, haha- no! No no babe come on please I was just messing I didn't really mean it plus you like it I don't-"

"I sure as hell don't like it when I'm trying to read!" With that, he digs his fingers into your ribs the same way you did to his. Only this time, you howl. You twist and flail your arms, unsure how to fight back or escape. God it tickles so bad, it's torture.

"Nohoohohoo! No- naaaaahaha!" You squeal as he runs his terrifying teeth across your stomach, occasionally peeking his tongue out too join in. Suddenly, your entire body jolts as his hands drift down to squeeze at your sides. Your own hands are free to push weakly at his assault, as you gasp and squeal with every touch. A hot blush creeps up your neck.

"Who's laughing now, fucker? You are," Karkat teases, still nibbling your soft middle. Your laugh jumps up in pitch at his cruel words.

"Plehe- Hahahaha! P-plehehease!" You grab his wrists with all your strength, and he outright growls at you. His hands slide down to your worst spot, digging his thumbs in your hips with expert accuracy.

"AAAAHAHAHA! KAA- KAHARKAHA!" Screaming with laughter, you can't even beg for mercy. You nerves burst like fireworks as your body squirms further into Karkat's touch without your permission. You want to curl up, run away, but your body quivers uselessly at every touch.

"Shhh, don't attract any of the others," Karkat warns. Fortunately, Karkat is much to considerate to let that happen: his cute ears twist towards the door every few seconds, checking for footsteps. Unfortunately, that also means no one is coming to save you. He switches to scribbles and scratches all over your hips and waistline.

"Shihihihiiitt!"

"What's wrong, Dave?

"Aaaahahaha, I give I give i giAH! HAhaha-"

"You begging already?"

"Yes! Yes yehehehahahahh..ahaha..." You gasp for air. Karkat slowly stops. Giggles still pour out from the sensations, and your flinch from the touch of your own hands as you sooth them over your skin.

Karkat admires you with dreamy eyes. He moves his legs back so he can lay on top of you, lips inches from your own. You lean up to kiss him. His lips are soft, fitting perfectly with yours, making everything ok. Tucking your hands under his sweater again, you reach around to hold his lower back.

Another idea pops into your impulsive head. You would only have one chance to get it right, otherwise Karkat would just take the upperhand back again. And if you were to fail....

You grin. Against your better judgement, you pick a fight with your lovely kismesis. You wrap your legs around Karkat's waist as tight as you can, hold him with one arm, and tickle all over his ribs.

He barks, curling aways to protect his side. You fail to get past his arm once, twice, and it's too late. Your hands are glued to your sides between handsome thighs. God, you're so gay.

"Really, Dave? You must really want me to wreck you, huh."

"Aaaaa," you whine. Your face burns. "Don't...don't just, say it!"

"Say what?"

"You know..."

"I don't. Tell me."

You shiver. "No!"

"Say. It. Right now, or I won't tickle you. I'll go right back to my book-"

"No no nonono ok fine you win!" You glance at your shades perched on the nightstand, yearning for their protection under Karkat's gaze.

"Still not what I want to hear," he smirks, running his tongue over his teeth.

"Baaaaabe."

"One," he says.

"What?" You're confused.

"Two."

One, two...Oh god. He's counting!

"Thre-"

"Wait!! Wait wait wait! Ok. Um, so, I-" Your throat dries up, chest heavy. Karkat just watches you patiently, soaking up every detail of your face. "I like it when you, um. when you... when you tickle me..and I want..um, you, to.. I want you t- to...tickle, me. more," you babble. Karkat does not look very impressed. "Um. please?"

He taps his chin, tightening his legs around you again. You wiggle, hot with embarrassment. "I think you can do a little better than that."

"Nooooo!" This isn't fair. You open your mouth to protest, but you're distracted by his sudden hands on your chest. You can feel the edges of his claws, careful not to dig into your delicate, human skin.

"I'm waiting," Karkat says, pretending to be bored. He still may leave though.

"Sorry, ok. Um, please, Karkles." You take a deep breath. "P-please tickle me, babe. I need it."

His eyes widen, so you urge yourself to keep going: "I want you to..to tickle me until I can't breathe. I- I love it. Come on, Karkat. Please, please, please..."

You feel his body tense. His ears tilt down, turning a brighter shade of red to match both your faces. He just stares.

"Sorr-" His hand covers your mouth, cutting you off. He looks at you through his bangs, that look in his eyes that you didn't even know you had been craving.

"Just remember, you brought this on yourself."

You don't even have time to nod. His hands are all over you, making you scream loud enough for everyone onboard the damn ship to hear. As boring as space travel may be, you're glad that this time you have Karkat to keep you busy.

"I lohohove youuuu!"

"Oh I love too, Dave."

I hope this meets your expectations @edgy-and-extra !!

155 notes · View notes

isagisyoichi · 4 years ago

Note

IM CACKLIGNGJ THE WAY MINE IS ALSO WORDS OF AFFIRMATION YEAH 🤕🤕 imagine if someone tried asking u out w a bad freestyle I WLD DIE LAUGHING

MEEEEE 😭😭 pulling out wordhippo.com in the middle of the round 😩😩 ITS SO FUNNY CUZ MY USUAL KPOP BIAS IS THE RAPPER it’s ok we got #Evangelia_Best_Visuals

DHJSJDJD THE SPITTING EVERYWHERE 😭😭 THEYRE TRYING SOOOOO HARD TOO N THEIR FACE IS ALL CONTORTED FUCKJF they think they’re doing so well but 😦😦👎👎

THEPIRGATE STORIES I JUST kNOW THEYRE MAKING THE INSTA POLLS N GOIJG “who do u think is going to win 🤫🤭” N MAKING BETS SOMEONE GETS P

GOD BLESS ISAGI HELPSJSNS NOT HIM PRACTICING HIS BARS I FEEL LIKE HE WLD TRY AND HYPE HIMSELF UP IN THE LOCKER ROOM MIRRORS BEFOREHAND TOO it’s so funny cuz one of my friends used to say tissue like tiss-ooh HELP

NAUJRJDNND NOT THE LIL UZI IM RICH DROP 😭😭😭😭 jusr casually dropping that in there 2 assert dominance 😒😒 he steals some of cardi’s lines from money and pretends like he made it up hi mself

I FEEL LIKE REO DEF CANT BEATBOX THO HE WLD LOOK SO FUNNY W HIS FACE SCRUNCHED N HES LIKE MOVING FROM SIDE TO SIDE TRYING TO VIBE N RANDOM PPL WALKING BY R LIKE.. does he need to go to a doctor 😟😟😟

EXACTLY 😭😭😭 LIKE RIN WILL TAKE UP BETS N GAMBLES IF HE GETS PROVOKED ENOUGH ESPECIALY IF ITS RYUUSEI HELPPP HES so funny because he will literally scowl and angirly go off ab something or hell just be like 😡💢💢 go kys 😭😭 IDONT THINK HE HAS A SENSE OF RHYTHM EIRHER

PLEASE ☹️☹️☹️ JUST BOYS BEING BOYS THEY DESERVE IT 🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞

STOP WORDHIPPO SAVED MY LIFE 😭😭😭 as isagi once said "dont you dare mock wordhippo!" or whatever im sure it was along the lines of that i was there ik what im talking about

i think tabito won personally 😈‼️ please someone probably put it on live too "blue lock's got talent" like didoekrkdks 😭😭😭

and isagi IN THE LOCKER ROOM IMAGINE SOMEONE WALKING IN AND THEY JUST STARE AT EACH ORHER IN SILENECE 😭 NEDKOKRKDDKEKEKSO please i would just walk in and then walk out for both of our sakes AND REO STEALING LYRICS HELPP HE THINKS HES SO SLICK TILL NAGI CALLS HIM OUTNAMD HEB GETS RED 😭😭 AND HIM NOT BEIMG ABLE TO BEATBOX MAKES SM SENSE NRIDIOD #RichBoySlander ‼️‼️‼️

rin doesnt even freestyle hes just like TALKING MONOTONOUSLY W THE OCCASIONAL RHYME 😭😭😭 and then he gets mad when people say he sucks LIKE MAYBE IF U TRIED

#🏷. lia 💗#🏷.asks #SPEAKING OF REO STEALING LYRICS #HAVE YOU GUYS EVER SEEN THAT VIDEO #WHERE ITS A GIRL FREESTYLIJG #AND SHES DOING WELL #UNTIL SOMEONE IN THE FROWD IS OIKE 'WAIT A MINUTE THIS IS HONEY COCAINE'#PLENFIDLFKOCD #THAT VIDEONIS SO FUNNY TOCME

4 notes · View notes

rin-hanarin · 4 years ago

Text

Just finished Hiveswap Act 2, here are some thoughts.

The art and the music are as great as they were before, all the sprite work is good, character portraits in the Trial section are very expressive, especially Joey’s and Stelsa’s, as it should be I guess. I love all variations of Ticket to Ride (Rusty is good, Trial Variation is a pure bop and it doesn’t get worse even after all the time you have to spend in the teal-jade car). Fight of the Bumblebee is such a James Roach track with beatboxing and shit, I absolutely adore his style of music. The atmosphere made by a change in sound after you reach purplebloods car is chilling, I was so uncomfortably on edge the entire time even though nothing actually was happening until the last moment.

Joey was still Joey, love her, but I didn’t really like Xefros before, and Act 2 finally made me care for him. He had a lot of development for such a short period of time, and actually started thinking about something other than Dammek. Even though he obviously still has his whole life shaped by Dammek’s ideas, it’s a progress, and he is competent enough on his own to help Joey with Alternia context when she needs it. I like his relationship with Joey too, he cares so much for her already and it’s very wholesome.

Speaking of Dammek, I’ve waited for too long and invented his personality for myself at this point, so I absolutely loved all mentions of him here, nothing matched the level of excitement I had when he was mentioned by Xefros, and especially Chixie, I remember his cameo in her Friendsim route and I loved it ever since I saw it. I reached a point where I’ll like this guy no matter what writers have planned for him, if anything. He can be a pure manipulative asshole, which is implied multiple times, and I’ll like him anyway exactly because he’s such an unapologetic garbage boy stink man. I live for this guy partying with violetbloods, not only he’s a revolutionary Troll Green Day guy, he also apparently lived his best life on Alternia, what a dude.

I really wanted to like troll train, but it was just kinda okay. Intro to the game is either very rushed or just empty, four gorgeous screens of nothing happening in a row is a bit. Yeah. I was excited about the Trial mini game, but teal-jade car ended up being tedious as fuck, and I liked most of the characters there in Friendsim, none of them saved it for me. I feel like most of them were there for the sake of it. Chixie was cool, but I really don’t know how I feel about her arguing with Xefros over Dammek, I liked her the most in Friendsim and that’s what we get here. Nothing happened with bronzes and burgundies, though I liked that Joey just Really Didn’t Like Vikare because he’s just Jake at his worst and it’s acknowledged by the writers. Most jades are just bitches who have nothing to do with anything (looking at you, Daraya and Lanque, why were they even there). Half of dialogue for Stelsa and Tyzias is about their relationship, not very exctiting tbh. Jades were okay, didn’t care much for golds and olives since none of them played any interesting part (Boldir was Just There the entire time and I thought she’s supposed to be relevant, Azdaja and Konyyl were discussing their relationship I also didn’t care about), ceruleans were okay (Elwurd was great, I felt Effort lol, Mallek was a bit underwhelming), indigos section is the most boring game of pointless fetch quest I’ve ever played with no reward or feeling of anything being accomplished. Clowns were clowns, Marvus’ dialogue was okay, didn’t expect anyone to die but someone did, well then.

I finished Act 2 in seven hours, and to be honest, literally nothing happened. I've waited for this for three years at this point, it's kinda disappointing that even Friendsim itself had more going on when I didn't give a single shit about any of the characters in it. Now I do, characters I liked were There because of course you can’t just give them all screentime, but still. I could've been happy with more Hiveswap if there was any interesting content in it, but instead it's just a ton of characters that need time to speak about literally nothing and/or quadrants again, and relationship talk in such amounts was boring to me back when Homestuck was still ongoing in 2016.

I don't really hate Act 2, but in the end I don't really care for it either, and I was very excited to play after all the waiting.

#hiveswap #hiveswap act 2 #tl;dr it was okay but underwhelming after all the wait

7 notes · View notes

borderlandsthirst · 5 years ago

Text

Flame Angel au

Koetai

Physical

Has a long gash going down her back at a slanted angle, it’s decorated with the twins’ snake symbol and a pair of dragon wings.

Triple pierced ears, a small hoop for the earlobe and studs for the other holes.

Long kinky hair kept in a ponytail, left side of her hair shaved around the ears.

Has smaller scars over her body from years of abuse, use to try and cover them but now wears them with pride.

Fashion since is nonexistent, just like the twins she wears an inconsistent color scheme.

Has her own symbol she wears on the back of her jacket. A dark orange, six-winged serpent surrounded by flames.

Has a pet Spiderantling name Natty who grows up to be a badass Spiderant Queen.

I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE!!

Long post under the cut along with psychological destress and dark thoughts.

Mental

Mostly shattered, years of mental and physical abuse has left Koetai in a state of numbness that only eases when the twins are around.

It’s a bit unstable, can fly off the handle sometimes and takes it out on the followers.

Has accidentally scratched Tyreen once while having a fit, it didn’t really affect her physically but emotionally she understands what it means to be treated poorly by your parents. Even if it’s not the same kind of trauma.

Sometimes she’ll just shut down while in the safety of the Cathedral, while working with a saint or one of the twins she just stops and stare into the distance. Takes a while to bring her back

Has stolen small unimportant items from the twins to take with her while she’s in the field so it feels like they’re with her. She needs them with her.

Feels empty when the twins aren’t around or isn’t being praised by the followers, she’s the right hand of the twin Gods, she’s the enforcer. How can nobody see how powerful and important she is?

Is a bit sadistic, will toy with Crimson Raider soldiers like a cat and then kill them in the most gruesome way imagine with her bare hands or a weapon that’s either her’s or theirs. All with a smile on her face.

Takes pleasure in all pain, mostly people she knows are innocent and not fighters. Why should she care about the pain of children when nobody cared about her’s?

Personality

Crazy, that’s to be expected after everything that’s happened to her.

Will fake you out in a heartbeat, one second she’s quiet and smiling real menacingly in your face, the next you’re lying on the ground bleeding while she walks off with your money and loot.

Only when she’s with the twins can the girl she could have grown into is revealed, kinda shy in interested in music and crafting. And yoga, she has to be at ease to keep the twins at ease when they’re about to snap.

Loves Troy and Tyreen but would never tell them (they’ll figure it out on their own eventually), because to her they are real Gods.

When she’s focused on something she’ll get real quiet so her concentration isn’t broken. Sometime she’ll stick her tongue out the side of her mouth, Troy and Tyreen have many pictures.

Gets along with the twins amazingly well, it’s almost like they’ve been together forever. Will let Tyreen do her hair and makeup, will let Troy do her nails. All three of them will sleep in a pile.

Is standoffish towards literally everyone else, the bandits of Pandora remind her too much of a crazy, shitty father.

See the cultist as demons, they aren’t even lost souls, just ants on the surface of a dry ass planet, but the twins have given them a chance to seek out salvation. She just loves the part where the follows fall out of line, although she hates seeing the twins angry, she loves the killing part.

Troy

Physical

Has a pretty nasty scar on his right shoulder leading down to the area across from his ribs.

Troy protects his damaged area with a skin friendly and cushiony gel liner filled with medical beads. It hugs his shoulder and keeps his bracer in place without causing more harm to his body.

Wishes for nothing more than to be normal like his sister, he constructs a prosthetic using stolen Hyperion tech that (surprisingly) still works and sprays it his skin tone.

He has built up muscle mass (but is still skinny around his ribs) still has his eight pack (or is it a six pack?)

Will cake on so much eye shadow you wonder if it's just a part of his face. And wears more eyeliner that is necessary when in front of a crowd.

Has nipple piercings, gauges, a lip piercing, and a di-

Still has the things in his arm (because Idk what they are) that are medical ports the pump nutrition into him. And so does his spinel connecter.

THICK THIGHS AND ASS!!

Mental

Hates his body, even though he has an eight pack he loses weight at a dangerous rate, he has to eat lots of meat every day.

Has night terrors often and usually wakes up with a knife in his hand. He wishes he could muster his powers to heal himself a real right arm.

Tyreen usually has to come and calm him enough to get him back in bed, on especially terrible nights she’ll have him sleep with her for comfort.

When alone he mumbles his mother’s name like a mantra, Leda Calypso. Like saying her name with keep him from going insane.

Is angry at Tyreen for latching onto him as a fetus and almost killing him, but knows that she obviously didn’t mean to, this kind of thing happens sometimes to twins. And it’s not like she could do anything about the Leech, she was a fetus.

Doesn’t stop him from hating what happened. Even though he loves his only family member.

Has found himself thinking about very dark things involving Tyreen and blood.

Making his prosthetic look like a real arm only broke him more, but even if it looks real, he knows it’s not.

Personality

A mask of channeled angsty goth teen energy, not as dramatic as Tyreen, but when he is it’s a fucking show. Overconfident in himself and cocky.

Doesn’t like when the followers get too close to him, Tyreen, or Koetai. Will act like he gives a damn about his followers at a distance, but if they get too close? He crushes they’re skull with his cybernetic.

Is a cold and viscous beast with no remorse for anyone, will stump in your ribcage just for looking at him.

Keeps his personal saints at an arm's length, on Koetai can get close, anyone who steps out of line is, well, dead.

Behind closed doors he’s all over his machines, he loves to tinker and build. He created the blueprints for the COV’s guns, Koetai’s buzzaxe, and countless other knickknacks across the camps of Pandora.

Loves beatboxing, will make up some horrible beat in hopes that Tyreen or Koetai will rap or sing to it, can actually sing himself. Has sung the girls to sleep before.

Records personal logs for himself whenever he’s in the mood, it can be about anything, personal issues, how being the GodKing makes him feel, how there’s really only one asset in his life that’s keeping him together.

Love to bake, surprising to someone who doesn’t know him. But Troy loves sweets and it’s hard to get that on Pandora, so he makes them himself.

Tyreen

Physical

Tyreen has a matching scar on her left shoulder blade where she was connected to Troy.

She wears at least two layers of clothing to ensure it stays hidden, it doesn’t matter if it’s hot out, if her scar is covered then she’s satisfied.

Has perfected a balanced look of dark makeup to make her look grown and sexy since she has a baby face. Sharp eyeliner, dark blue or black eyeshadow, and variety of dark lip-glosses.

Works out with Troy (but not too much, just enough to stay in shape) so she has a nice four pack.

Also has piercings, cute little studs for her ears, a nose piercing, nipples too, and a cl-

Has her mother’s last name tattooed across her lower back. And has the COV logo tattooed on her right shoulder (really to match the eye on Troy’s shoulder.)

Doesn’t wear a glove on her left had (since it doesn’t do anything nor does it really match the outfit.)

THICK THIGHS SAVE LIVES, while big booties end them.

Mental

Can HEAR the Leech talking to her, trying to convince her to consume more, feed more, TAKE MORE. Has even told her to leech her brother more times than one.

Was once teetering on the edge of insanity because of the constant whispering in the back of her head, but over the years she’s managed to push it back. But sometimes the voice breaks through again.

Because of the voice she barely sleeps, it’s not like she needs to, but she can’t even if she needed to.

Loves her brother with all her heart but feels like he hates her for what she’s done. Sure, she wasn’t even born yet, but she almost killed him before he was even born.

Actually despises the fact she’s a siren, if she wasn’t a siren Troy would messed up, mom would still be alive, and dad wouldn’t have treated us so coldly.

Doesn’t have it together as much as she likes to think, would have a mental breakdown behind closed door, Troy has only seen it once and spent hours with Tyreen as she sobbed uncontrollably into his arms. She made sure to never let him witness that again.

Tyreen has clawed at her tattooed arm a few times, scratched thick deep cuts that immediately heal close, just to be scratched open again.

Only perusing the Grant Vault for Troy’s sake, hopefully all that power will keep his stable for the rest of their lives.

Personality

Egotistical and shamelessly smug. Thinks she’s big shit and that she’s on top of the world. Lives with a shit-eating grin on her face while in front of the camera.

Actually convinces everyone around her that she truly does care about of her followers (but is really still afraid of them.) Wouldn’t hesitate to punt-kick one in private though.

Enjoys followers throwing themselves at her feet to offer gifts and praise, but if anyone touches her, even accidently, they’re dead. They’re not even allowed to kiss her boots, she doesn’t want their saliva on her clothes.

When away from public she is extremely soft and sweet, kisses? She gives kisses to her brother and to Koetai, she is also pretty chill.

While Troy bakes, Tyreen cooks. She may not need to eat real food but that doesn’t mean she can’t if she wants to. Pasta, sandwiches, a fucking baked potato? You name it, she can make it.

Loves to sing, her mother said she had the voice of an angel, will perform a little concert for Troy and Koetai and feel flushed and proud afterwards.

Enjoys painting like no one would believe, has a painting station in the corner of her room where she spends a good amount of time painting pictures of her loved ones, which is only three people, not including her father.

Enjoys just, sitting outside on her balcony with the fresh air, even if the air is dry and smells like skag shit.

First time I’ve ever written anything like this and I’m sure I did it badly, still more to come, should work on a position structure or something. Also need to make a layout of the common and working rooms.

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #Koetai #Troy Calypso #Tyreen Calypso #My writing #please reblog #Am I doing it?#Am I AUing?#flame angel au

15 notes · View notes

zukofenty · 5 years ago

Text

day 25: mona lisa

➜ Summary: The one where Zuko and Katara make a pact to (fake) rush Asian Greek life because they were giving out free tacos.

“Whoever becomes an official sorority sister or frat brother wins!”

“Can the prize be health insurance?” Zuko doesn’t have the energy to muster his patented glare.

➜ Genre: Modern!AU, humor, FratBrother!Zuko, SororityGirl!Katara, scamming, dildo stealing

➜ Words: 6.6k

➜ Warnings: they stay in an airbnb instead of a hotel bc who has the schmoney for a hotel room😩

AO3, @zutaramonth hi!!!

Zuko’s grabbing at Katara’s arm while she’s carefully sipping water (only water, she swears) out of a red solo cup. She’s in her “whore fit” (her words) with larger than life fake eyelashes that could propel her into the sky a la Icarus if she blinked a little too quickly. She was in the middle of readjusting her crop top for the umpteenth time that night, because of course she forgets her strapless bra chicken cutlet contraption at home, so of course she does the most reasonable thing and takes a regular bra and just tucks the straps in. Because as much as she is a proponent of #freethenipple, her nipples could probably slice open a radiator with how fucking cold Ba Sing Se was.

“Please take this shot for me,” Zuko reasons with her, trying to make it seem as though he was handing off a shot to a clueless lightweight sorority rushee he was hoping to nail later in the night. For reputation’s sake, Zuko could not afford to fuck up tonight. He was in too deep. “Please, my Pepsin hasn’t kicked in yet. Asian glow is not the look we’re going for tonight.”

“I hate you.” Katara munches on her (free) taco, and effortlessly throws back the shot: no chase. Zuko looks back and sees active members of Pi Alpha Psi giving him a thumbs up, hooting, hollering, being dumb. One salaciously thrusts his hips to the beat of “Big Bank,” pathetically hoping he could emulate YG in support of Zuko supposedly getting some Deltas pussy.

Asian Greek life was fucking stupid.

Tonight was the night of the Deltas Sorority and Pi Alpha Psi Fraternity rush party, the most important party so far during rush week. Because Greek life was entirely stupid , of course they had to hold the fucking party on a Tuesday night, when Zuko had an econ pratice set to get done by midnight, and Katara needed to get to Ochem at 8am the next morning. It was their fault, really. A punishment from God herself (Rihanna) for trying to scam the Greek system.

It all started because Zuko and Katara had no fucking friends.

Besides each other, but that was also up for debate most days. Especially the days when Zuko would remind Katara whenever her foundation didn’t blend down her neck. He always thought he was being helpful. Katara’s long given up the urge to slit his throat.

After high school, when you still believed you were going to do something with your life and be important and make a difference and didn’t know about income tax, they had kept the dream of Ba Sing Se University alive while they attended community college. Uncle Iroh and Hakoda weren’t exactly rolling in tuition money, and financial aid was a stingy bitch. While Zuko had considered reaching out to his estranged father, the owner of a multi billion dollar pyramid scheme, he suddenly remembers the time his dad tried to burn his face off after a particularly heated episode of Maury , and then books another therapy appointment.

It was the top university in the nation, promising a gateway to accounting jobs and selling your soul to work for immoral tech companies to pay off your student loans in a timely manner. They had prayed for the day they could call the school home. The day they could leave their small town and finally make it in life. Katara and Zuko were inseparable growing up, even if at the surface they bumped heads. They were at each other’s throats whenever the going got tough, slinging petty insults at each other.

“I told you this was a bad idea. They don’t have fucking non-dairy options. Wait until my anus starts beatboxing in the bathroom in 20 minutes. Then you will see,” Zuko grumbled. Katara was always doing this, dragging their group of friends to “fun” places whenever Yelp sends her a notification a new restaurant opened up in their shithole of a town. It’s always some boba shop that was secretly a front for a Scientology cult’s money laundering scheme.

But Katara’s the only one who is able to scare Zuko (dairy induced) shitless. She’s always able to send him a glare that screams don’t you dare fuck with me, I know you masturbate to Hatsune Miku moan compilations. And he instantly starts sweating .

At the same time, she was the only one to truly get him. Even if their friends were perfectly content to stay in their town, doing the same things, being the same people, Katara and Zuko always knew there was so much more out there. So much more to the world than what they had grown up in. So they kept the dream alive. Even if their friends had rightfully doubted them. No one made it out of their town. You find a partner from the same people you grew up with, have kids you grow to hate, hide your husband’s infidelity, and either choose from two options. Grow old with him and resent him and then have a kid to try to save the marriage. Or, go Gone Girl on his ass.

“Women really need to go back to poisoning their men. Like the good old days,” Katara’s eyes were narrowed into slits as she focused on taking clandestine photos of Mrs. Kim’s cheating, rat-faced husband. For a few months, she was under the tutelage of the town’s private investigator, June. It paid well, and she felt she was contributing to the feminist movement at the same time.

“Uh-huh, right,” Zuko eyed her warily. Dubbed lovingly “Katara’s Uber Driver,” he also got paid by June to drive the Nyla Mobile around during their late night ops.

He couldn’t wait to leave this shit fuck of a town.

While their friends and family were tearfully embracing them on their final days at home, a patented group hug forced upon them, they shared a secret smile. Their dream was coming true. They were going to a school in the city with minimized debt. Plus, though neither of them would ever admit it, they also had each other to rely on.

“What the fuck do you need? I swear to Rihanna, you only text me when I’m trying to masturbate. Please, make other friends,” Katara nearly screams into the phone. Her roommate, Suki, groans at the volume coming from Katara’s side of the room, but doesn’t get up. Her stomach is still sensitive from the Blue Razz Four Loko she downed at some frat house Katara had to drag her back from.

Zuko had the decency to sound sheepish. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I hope you understand, I am too tense right now to pretend I like you. Go. Make. Friends.”

Because Zuko is a fucking child , he starts groaning and Katara could hear him petulantly slamming his Amazon memory foam mattress with his fist. He’ll get angry that the mattress is preventing any real satisfaction from hitting it, and then hit it a few (approximately 3) more times. She hears the pounds, and smirks. She doesn’t know whether or not to feel disturbed that she knows him so well.

“I miss you,” he whines.

“I don’t.”

Zuko gasps dramatically. “How could you say that? Sandbox love never dies!” He wants to yell into the darkness of his room when she hangs up on him. It was valid, of course. But that doesn’t mean his feelings can’t hurt. He’s always sensitive during the Mercury Retrograde.

Being a transfer student is hard, as much as he hates to admit it. There’s only two years to pad your resume and make lifelong friends and learn how much cocaine is too much cocaine for your body. College was hard. While Katara’s roommate was able to introduce her to people and Katara made a group of friends almost instantly, Zuko wasn’t nearly as pleasant to be around. It wasn’t his fault he was nervous . When he’s nervous he looks more mean than usual, and his roommate, Jet, was wary around him since the day he moved in. He couldn’t even be mad when he spotted Jet hiding his box cutter’s accessibility.

“Katara!” Zuko rolls his eyes at her lack of response. “Katara!” He repeats. “I know you’re just listening to “Like a G6” on a 10 hour loop. Don’t pretend to look so concentrated.”

She glares at him. “Let me have this one thing to myself.” She still begrudgingly takes out her airpods.

“No.”

Katara wants to throttle his long ass neck. “Zuko, be honest with me.”

“Ok, yes! When you put your hair in a ponytail you look like a cage free egg.” Zuko stares at her in confusion when she starts playing with her hair. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to hand over my wig. You fucking scalped me, and I had nothing to say back. Just take it. You deserve it.” He smacks her hands from messing with her hair. Other patrons in the cafe near campus glanced over in amusement, as Katara pokes him in the neck and he yelps.

While he rubs at his neck to lessen the sting from Katara’s acrylics, she worries at her lip. “Be honest. Do you think Suki hates me?”

“Yes.”

Katara slams a hand on the table, causing his croissant to quake in fear. “You’re supposed to be comforting and trying to console me! Do it over, say no.”

“No.”

“Zuko, do you know how close I am to biting your nipple right off?”

He rolls his eyes. Katara specialized in empty threats (most of the time). “Don’t get mad at me just because Suki refuses to talk to you.” He relishes in her frustration. “Again, whose fault is it that Suki has to go to court for reckless driving?”

“She was the one at the wheel!” Katara throws her hands to the air, before petulantly slapping them into her thighs, for emphasis of her point.

Zuko pinches his nose bridge. “Well, you were the one who convinced her that she shit herself!”

Katara takes a neat, clean sip from her iced coffee before calmly responding. “She was the one doing 88 in a 65 trying to get to the bathroom. How was I supposed to know she did anal the day before and it was just cum!”

Zuko smacks his forehead in frustration after seeing identical blushes on the sea of patrons, now very much intune with the turn of the conversation. “You really don’t know how to act in public, do you? Like you think all the shit coming out of your mouth is important enough for it to just be said. You couldn’t have let that be a passing thought? Or learn how to fucking whisper?”

Katara sighs, closing her eyes and folding her hands over each other, because she’s dramatic. “All I had today for lunch was lip gloss. Let me be.”

“Again, if you, I don’t know, learned how to apologize to someone and admit you’re wrong then maybe Suki wouldn’t have hidden all your stress snacks. And, I don’t know. Maybe if you knew how to say ‘sorry’ she wouldn’t hate your fucking guts.” Katara simply turns her head into the air at Zuko’s words, refusing to acknowledge them. He’s itching to take a hit of his Phix with how on edge he was, and then remembers Katara had sold it on the school Facebook sell and exchange page as revenge. Apparently, Katara snaps if you send her one too many Tom Holland and Nicki Minaj fanfiction stories. Not that he’s speaking from personal experience. “You know what, you’re almost as stubborn as Wendy Williams when she refuses to pronounce Dua Lipa’s name correctly.”

She petulantly swivels her gaze to Zuko, nose still pointed to the sky. “Dula Peep is iconic for that reason.” She breathes out, letting her body go lax. “Please, shut the fuck up. I’m sad. Why would she leave me alone in the middle of the Mercury Retrograde like this? I didn’t think she hated me that much.” She drops her defensive stance, and rolls her shoulders, eyes focused only on the table. “I thought, what we had. It was real friendship you know? I made a joint for her using the orientation leader recruitment flyers because we were out of rolling papers. That’s true love. That’s sisterhood.”

“Please, I can’t poop right now! I can’t poop when I’m scared. I’m poop shy!”

Zuko audibly groaned. “Then why the fuck would you take a shit at my apartment? Yours is literally a 4 minute walk away, according to motherfucking Google Maps. 5 minutes if you use Apple Maps.”

“I don’t know, ok! I saw the baby wipes and I just kinda went with the flow, sue me!” Damnit, she knew she tasted real milk in her strawberry banana smoothie. God, the price of being ethnic in this dairy filled world.

“I called you over here to explain the plan! So I don’t bother you mid masturbation! And you just had to take a dump, didn’t you? On the plan, and my fucking toilet, too!”

She was weary after her back to back classes from 9-5 when Zuko excitedly called her up to come to his place. As much of a bitch baby Zuko could be, Katara tries to visit his place as much as she can. His apartment was just upgraded, meaning he had a state of the art microwave. One that doesn’t third degree burn her ham and cheese Hot Pockets, but rather cooks them perfectly to the tune of the package instructions, and makes them all fluffy and culinary excellence. Plus, he lives further from the heroin infested park she lived right next to, meaning his building smelt like a Clinique cosmetics counter (or: old lady) rather than pure urine like hers. And he didn’t have to run home in fear of being chased.

Besides, he’s all she’s got right now. He explained his plan as the roof of her mouth is assaulted by the gooey cheese of the Hot Pocket. Zuko eagerly handed over the flyers that were shoved into his hands as he was walking to campus.

“Do you see the funds these bitches got? We have to go! We need to become part of Asian Greek life!”

Although Katara did enjoy seeing the copious amount of free food potential, she was skeptical. “This is all free?”

“Yes, oh my god! Read the damn flyer! They’re living it up while we try to fit spinach in our budget to buy White Claw. Free alc, and free tacos! C’mon, we don’t even have to get into the sorority or frat. Just go through the rush process, and try to get as much free food as possible.” Zuko sits on his bed beside her, and even shakes her by the shoulders for emphasis. She swats his hands away while he chuckles.

Katara side eyes him. “Aren’t you already behind on your lectures? I don’t know, do we really want to waste time doing this?”

Zuko sends her a sheepish smile, but grabs her hand. For reassurance purposes, of course. “It’s just one week. Let’s just let loose. Maybe we could walk away from this with a few friends. So I don’t bother you mid beating your meat.” Katara can’t help but laugh.

On the first night, she was nervous. Zuko was clearly his indifferent self, but deep down she knew he was scared, too. Katara and Zuko weren’t exactly Greek life material .

“They thought you were hot, that’s why they flyered you!” Katara yelps while digging through his closet. Zuko ignores the blush growing on his face. “Let’s find a fit that emphasizes that bad boy aesthetic.”

Katara never did anything half assed. That’s why if they were going to play hot, ignorant Asian Greek lifers, they were going to be the goddamn best. Academy Award nominated and then played by Scarlett Johansson in a biopic type of acting.

“What’s wrong with what I usually wear? Is the leather jacket not, quote unquote, bad boy enough?” Zuko runs his hands through his shaggy hair, which Katara had encouraged him to not style. She’d never admit it, but maybe her sexual awakening coincided with Zuko growing his hair out. Maybe.

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe to Tumblr , but not for fuckboys.” She groans because of course Zuko has good fashion taste. Maybe him being hot helps with how clothes looked, but they all screamed fashion and not basic fuckboy . Which was the vibe of the night. “God, do you have the entire Forever 21 Black t shirt aisle in here?”

Before he could retort, Zuko’s interrupted by Jet coming into their room to grab his dumb Hydroflask. It’s dumb because it’s so goddamn big, for no good reason.

“Hey, Katara,” Jet is smirking. Ew .

Zuko feels jealousy, the type that makes your body grow all hot and makes you want to punch a mattress and Jet’s pleasantly symmetrical face. God, why is he so fucking pretty? He reminds himself that Katara was entirely off limits , and schools his face. He gets these types of pangs of envy once in a while, usually during the Mercury Retrograde. Ever since they were kids, he knew Katara was going to be in his life forever. He wasn’t about to fuck that up. Not with emotions or anything.

“Hey, Jet!” Katara chirps. She couldn’t help it, her pussy is weak for pretty men. She knew that look on his face. The eyes that roamed her body clad in the tight top and jeans that made sure her ass looked like she paid for it. Thank you, Fashionnova.

He gives her a hot guy half hug, and she’s melting. Calm down, girl Katara warns her pussy. “See you around. Zuko, I’m going to Target, do you need anything?”

Zuko frowns at the sight of a fangirling Katara. “Nope.” Jet nods, and even offers up a smile. He hates that he smiles back.

Katara swoons. She flops on Zuko’s bed, eyes all dreamy and starry. “That’s the vibe you need to give off!”

“What, that I have HPV?”

“Exactly! See, that’s the type of fuckboy you need to be. You can have the same pussy clenching effect with the right, basic clothes. You’re hot, and you have a badass scar. You just need a striped Guess shirt and white Nike Air Force 1s to complete the getup.”

So, Zuko digs through his closet from his hypebeast phase to find a pair of white sneakers (“Reeboks aren’t basic enough!” Katara protests) and borrows the Guess shirt from Katara, and they were ready to scam.

Fuck. The damn tacos. And then it was all you can eat Korean food. Then it was free avant garde ice cream at that one place that cost you an ovary to even sample the vanilla bean flavor.

The first night of rushing, all you can eat Korean food, and they were already putting on the pounds.

“ Holy fucking cheese dick! I think I gained the weight of a Kardashian ass filler in just today alone! I can’t breathe. Zuko, hold up.” She puts her hand out, halting their walk back to her place. “I need to unbutton my pants.” She had one too many plates of kimchi spam fried rice.

Zuko burps graciously. Goddamn kimbap. He swallowed that shit whole, choking a few times throughout the night. “Me fucking too! Oh my god, I can’t breathe.”

“In through your nose. Out with your dairy shits.”

As soon as they got back to her apartment, they immediately reached for Lactaid, and then went over the events of the night.

“What do you think of Ty Lee? All the guys were drooling over her,” Zuko asks. Katara ditched her elaborate makeup, scrubbing her face clean and was in one of Zuko’s t shirts he’s long given up trying to get back from her. She’s twirling an expensive mechanical pencil between her fingers, the kind that has super precise lead and matches her pencil case and laptop. For the aesthetic.

“She’s the type of bitch to eat salt and vinegar chips at 9 in the morning.”

“What’s the difference between girls who eat salt and vinegar chips in the morning, and girls who eat Hot Cheetos in the morning?” Zuko’s scratching at his head, brain still foggy from all the Doritos he’s practically inhaled. He’s topless, and has one of the many sweats he leaves behind at Katara’s because their sleepovers were some of his favorite memories growing up. Even if they have to squeeze Zuko’s six foot tall ass in twin beds now.

“One has class. The other needs therapy.”

He squints from his spot at her desk, typing interrupted to push up his round glasses. “I see.”

“I saw you really hit it off with Mai,” Katara made sure to keep her voice even. “She was really into you.”

Zuko whips his head around to her. “Really?” He yelps. “Stay out of my business!” Katara throws her hands up in mock surrender. “...Did she say anything about me?”

“She said she was so tired of medium ugly frat brothers and that you showing up sent her cooch into anaphylactic shock,” Katara deadpans.

“Really!” Zuko’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

“No, she just said you were handsome. And then I told her ‘don't call him handsome unless he's about to hand some money over,’ and then she laughed and then thirst followed you on Instagram.”

Zuko scrambles to check his phone. “Oh my god, she’s so cute,” he whispers, eyes enraptured by her Instagram feed. Katara rolls her eyes when he jumps into her bed, knocking her work aside to shove his greasy iPhone 6s in her face.

Katara slaps it right out of his hand. “Ugh, not the 6s.”

Zuko practically melts. “You said she thinks I’m hot, right?” Katara pokes at a man tit before curling up at his side.

“You’re annoying.”

Zuko grabs Katara's hand, playing with the tiny fingers. “I’m adorable.”

She snorts. “You know, we should make a pact. If we’re getting this invested into the whole process. Whoever becomes an official sorority sister or frat brother wins!”

“Can the prize be health insurance?” Zuko doesn’t have the energy to muster his patented glare with Katara cozied up next to him.

The second night, ice cream night, and Katara was slipping.

“What do you usually look for in a guy?”

“I usually just look away,” Katara admits, shrugging. She doesn’t forget to plaster a well practiced, non threatening smile on her face.

“Preferred places for guys to cum?” Another sorority girl asks. Other rushees are nodding enthusiastically, carefully preparing their answers.

“To his senses,” Katara huffs.

“I usually like a backshot!” Ty Lee says enthusiastically, despite the other sisters eyeing Katara warily. Ty Lee insisted that Katara would be a good fit for the sorority. She looked like the only one on her side.

While the girls were excitedly dancing along to the music playing in the shop, Katara’s eye twitches. It was the feminist in her. “If you still like Chris Brown, you’re ugly,” Katara is adamant, not relenting despite the incredulous, wide eye stares from the gaggle of sorority girls.

“Well, I guess I’m ugly then!” Mai yelps, hands crossed over her chest defiantly.

Katara smiles carefully. “You sure are, bitch!”

Fuck Katara was messing this up. She needed to make sure that they were convinced Katara was sorority girl material to move onto the next level of the secret invite only event. Fuck, fuck, fuck .

She wasn’t about to let Zuko win at anything!

Mai squints at her. “Are you a clit being handled by a frat brother? Because you’re really rubbing me the wrong way.”

Ty Lee gasps. “Please excuse her, Indica makes her grumpy.”

Katara glares. “None taken.”

She likes Ty Lee, that much she’s gathered. And, it seems as though Ty Lee had grown to like her back, making sure Katara gets enough ice cream throughout the night, even turning her head when Katara pulls out a Tupperware from her backpack to bring back the dessert to her apartment.

That was until Ty Lee remembered she had a flask hidden up her skirt, a necessity post fuckboy cheats on you . “I-I just called to say I don’t miss you! And that your dick smells like a stapler that has been microwaved for 25 seconds. Like, you can block me all you want. But you can’t uneat this ass. Sorry, I don’t make the rules!” Katara does damage control, and dutifully snatches the phone from her hands.

Crossing her arms like a mother disciplining her child, she levels Ty Lee with a concerned look. “What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Ty Lee gets up and stumbles on her way to hug Katara. “I can’t leave him! I love him so, so much. He’s my fucking ride or die, the Quavo to my Saweetie! The pitchy singing to my Selena Gomez! The Marlene to my Rosa! The badly glued fake eyelashes to my Asian sorority girl,” Ty Lee is crying and loud and her anime like tits are bouncing with every sob that comes.

Katara takes the flask of peach vodka from her trembling hands, and shakes the girl. “Look, bitch. You’re better than this.”

“No, I’m really not!”

Katara pokes the girl in the forehead. “Yes, bitch you definitely are. You’re a bad bitch that got adicktated. But that’s ok.” She tilts the red faced girl’s head back, making sure the cup of water goes down her throat. “So what if you fell in love a little? You’re in your bag bitch, you don’t need provolone smelling dick to dicktate your life!”

She rubs at her snot filled nose, and then wipes her fist on her mini skirt. “You really think so?”

“Bitch, I know so . Go be a slut, forget about Chan’s ass flake. Now hand over your phone. Drunk yelling over the phone is not the move for the night.” The other active Deltas sisters were running back from a group bathroom visit, after realizing it was Ty Lee’s bad decisions o’ clock . They came back to see the chastised girl determindly eating Ube flavored ice cream, without a phone to do dumb shit in her hands. Mai can’t help but start liking Katara.

The third night, and it’s the Deltas Sorority and Pi Alpha Psi Fraternity rush party, the most important party so far during rush week. IT was a slam fucking dunk. They had gotten catering from everybody’s favorite taco place at the Pi Alpha Psi frat house. And a fucking DIY boba bar. A boba bar! A goddamn boba bar. Katara had a ziplock baggie filled with the tapioca pearls in her left jean pocket.

All Deltas rushees were meant to be socializing with Pi Alpha Psi brothers. The active sisters were trying to see who were the classy whores in the group. They didn’t want admitted whores, just subtle ones. After fending off another medium ugly brother from trying to stare at her tits, Katara corners Zuko, who hands her another shot to take for him. “Why was that guy dressed like an uninvolved father?”

“What’s that supposed to look like?”

“Sweaty, and smells vaguely of disappointment.”

Zuko coughs. “I’m sad that hit way too close to home.”

Katara looks devastated for a split second, until Zuko starts laughing at his own joke. Then, she smacks him upside the head. “You know, you should be thankful for me. I got you looking exactly like a Pi Alpha Psi brother. Even down to the shoes.” Katara glares ahead. “God, I hate that we have to wear shoes on in this house. I hate looking at Haru’s Black Air Force 1s. Anything but those. Anything but those .”

The fourth night and they had successfully scammed the Greek system.

“Zuko!” Katara screams, bursting through his door without preamble. “Look what Ty Lee sent—wait a minute. What the fuck are you doing?” She pauses in shoving the phone in his face to see him face down in his calculus textbook.

“I’m trying to find a natural way to stay focused.”

Katara crosses her arms. “Have you considered adderall?”

Zuko snorts, clearly annoyed. “That’s literally prescription meth.”

“And what about it?” She slams her body, face first into his bed. “‘ Hey get ready tomorrow because we have an exclusive, invite only clubbing invite and the girls and I really really want you to come! ’” Katara reads the Instagram message verbatim from her phone, her chest swelling with unbridled pride. “I deserve an Academy Award.”

Zuko plops his body right on top of hers, relishing in how she groans under his added weight. “Run me my Golden Globe because according to Chan, my ‘ass better be ready to get nasty at Club Nyla .’”

“Shut the booger sugar up!”

So (on a Thursday night ) Katara and Zuko crowd in the party bus the generous Asian Greek system had funded in the name of “cultural bonding.” She can barely breathe, tits pushed in the most fuckable way possible, and she feels her face heating from the shots forced down her throat because her (potential) sisters had insisted on heavily pregaming.

While the frat brothers were perfectly content to sitting and not making any sort of movement whatsoever in the name of looking cool , the girls on the other hand were having the time of their lives.

“Oh my fucking god, for the last time Ty Lee, I cannot join the grind train, I do not have mental stability to keep my balance and shake my ass at the same time,” Katara lightly chastises, shoving the drunk girl gently off of her. Ty Lee simply shrugs, and then continues to gyrate on the gaggle of girls. The music was pounding, everyone was sweating from the amount of unrestrained dancing happening, and Katara’s pretty sure some girl just bruised her pussy after accidentally smacking it (hard) on the bus’s stripper poles. Disco lights bathe the entirety of the vehicle, enveloped in the screams and squeals of Asian girls trying to twerk and scream along to lyrics at the same time.

It was pure fucking chaos. But so goddamn fun . The girls kept constantly grabbing her hips in an attempt to yike on her helpless ass, which Katara abruptly stopped by flicking off their hands. All to the tune of “The Box” by Roddy Rich.

“Let me hear everyone loud and clear! ‘Fuck 12!’” Katara screams to a crowd of bewildered frat brothers.

“Katara, no,” Zuko’s laughing too hard, the alcohol making him feel lightheaded. Heavy rap music permeated the walls of the bus, and he feels a headache building. But he feels a little better seeing Katara having fun, nearly choking to death after taking a hit from some brother’s joint.

“Don’t laugh, I don’t smoke that often!” She insists.

Zuko throws his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close to him. “If you die, at least it was in a party bus while Travis Scott was playing.”

“I’d rather die in an Acura!” Katara yelps, getting up in mock frustration. While Zuko is simply losing his mind at her attitude, she accidentally stumbles as the bus comes to an abrupt stop, and lands in Zuko’s lap.

She’s chortling, moving about to get up. Zuko tries his hardest not to let his heart pound impossibly loud.

After IDs were checked, and a Drake song was forcibly requested by the obnoxious group of frat brothers, the clubbing event was in full swing. Yet, it paled in comparison to the fun and chaotic energy of the party bus. Frat brothers were attempting to dance, Asian girls were trying their hardest to twerk.

Katara is doing her duty as the most sober one out of the bunch and pushes random guys away before they could grab at her sisters’ hips. “You know, God gives flat asses to his strongest soldiers,” she mumbles, lips dangerously close to his ear. They were sitting down in the private seating area near the dance floor, exhausted beyond belief and watching the sorority girls’ attempts at clapping what little cheeks they did have.

Ty Lee clumsily grabs at Katara, screaming about having to piss and call her ex. Her cue to save the day. She gives Zuko an apologetic look, and whispers “I’m gonna win” before grabbing Ty Lee’s hand.

While he’s checking on his Neko Atsume cats, Chan’s Pepto Bismal smelling self is sidling up to his side. “Bro, you should fuck her. She’s got amazing tits.”

Zuko smirks, before schooling his features. That was already an observation he made when he was 16. Nice try, fuckboy. Chan continues, not caring if Zuko responds to him. “Pound that pussy like rent is due tomorrow! You have to get at that big, fat, moose sized pussy at the Airbnb we’re headed to after this.”

Ty Lee is blubbering, snot running freely down her face as though she was a 5 year old at Chuck E. Cheese realizing they didn’t have enough tickets to afford a beaded necklace. “Every time he goes down on me, it feels like my pussy’s getting colonized. Is that what love is supposed to feel like.”

Katara paused in rubbing her back. “Oh my god.”

Ty Lee grabs at Katara’s shoulders, toilet and unsteady stomach forgotten. “Please, for the sake of the female population. Fuck Zuko. We need to know if he’s packing that schmeat.”

Katara gasps. “No fucking way, we’re just friends!”

The inebriated girl clutches Katara’s face in between her sweaty palms, lowering her voice in a volume she thinks counted as a whisper. It was more of a scream than anything else. “We always try to get the hottest rushees to fuck each other at the Airbnb. Then, you’ll definitely make it into Deltas. Because if anyone deserves to throw that neck back on Zuko, it’s you.”

“Well gee, thanks. I’m touched.”

“Moan harder! Don’t sound like I’m forcing you to fuck me! This isn’t no 90 Day Fiance shit! I thought you were an actor. Where is the commitment to the craft? You sound like you’re a dying tractor. Do better!” Katara continues jumping on the bed, trying to emulate a good old fucking. Zuko breathes in, before an unrestrained groan comes from his lips. Katara’s cooch instantly quakes.

Their shoes were off, at her insistence, sheets already strewn about to make it believable. She could hear the snickering behind the door she’s triple checked to make sure it was locked and unable to be seen through the keyhole, her thong shoved in front of it to ensure their privacy.

“Zuko, Zuko, Zuko!” she pants, makine her voice sound as fucked out as possible. “I can’t!”

He continues smacking his arm, trying his best to replicate the sound of cheeks being clapped. “Baby, yes you can. You’re taking me like a fucking champ.”

Katara almost couldn’t hold back her giggle. This was all so fucking ridiculous. Taken straight out of a Larry smut scene. But they had a job to finish, a lifestyle they needed to live out, a pact to win. She whines, he lets out a moan. They bite their fist before they lost their minds and ruined the scam. She could imagine the title to their terrible porn video: college girl takes BEC (big emo cock).

“So, so good!” Katara made sure to make her voice sound as strained as possible, jumping even harder on the mattress. Zuko is ashamed to say his dick twitched in his pants the slightest. “So goddamn big. I feel so full!”

“Thanks for thinking I have a big dick,” he mutters, before letting out another wanton cry.

“Please be quiet!” Her little faux whimpers are simply killing Zuko, a blush creeping on his neck. He may or may not be jerking off to a sound now burned in his memory.

“Ready for the grand finale?” Zuko’s bewildered, pausing in his erratic jumping on the mattress. Katara jumps as hard as she can three times, before landing a punch square into Zuko’s stomach. It’s unexpected, and he doubles over, wheezing and pathetically gasping for air.

“Baby, cum in me!” Katara mewls, a devious smile on her face.

Zuko frowns, rubbing at his sore stomach. “Really? You’re that invested in this role? You would hurt your bestest friend in this world?”

“Shut up! Let me bully you.”

They leave the room, ensuring their hair looked as disheveled as possible, clothes put on backwards, and Katara’s lip gloss smeared across his face. It tasted like Starbursts and scams.

The pair were suddenly enveloped in violent cheers. Muscled frat brothers were taking their beefy arms and slapping Zuko’s chest in celebration. Zuko could see Katara blushing, acting bashful and even tucking a strand of hair behind her ear for emphasis. He rolls his eyes, and deftly decided his heart was indeed forever stolen by the bat shit crazy bitch.

“My man!” Chan howls, grabbing Zuko in a signature bro hug. “Any other Deltas you want to raw dog tonight?”

Zuko’s gaze was focused on Katara’s smiling face. “This dick belongs to one woman.”

They sorority and fraternity wearily climbed back into the party bus in the wee hours of the morning, needing to make the trek back in time for classes. Everyone was to stop by the Psi Alpha Psi house to collect their stuff, and then make their way home.

Zuko’s nodding off, too tired to continue breathing when Katara pokes him expertly in the arm. “What?”

“We’re going to steal the house trophy when we get back.”

He gasps. “Not Beatrice.”

“Yes, Beatrice!”

“Why do you want a $9 dildo from Amazon anyways?”

Katara sighs. “I overheard them this morning. The Deltas and Psi Alpha Psi. They were running through photos of girls and guys that rushed that didn’t make it through the process. And they were so fucking mean , Zuko. Like I almost cried, and they didn’t even roast my ass. Like Co-Star level bullying. They don’t deserve Beatrice. We do.”

“So, bet’s off?” He cracks his knuckles in anticipation. She simply nods.

“You bitch. You didn’t have to slam me so fucking hard!” Katara reprimands. Zuko silences her with a passionate kiss that has every emotion she could possibly feel tingling throughout her whole body. She’s pushed up against the fireplace, clutching the wall behind her as though finding something to grind her against Zuko’s fiery passion. They were simply mimicking the rest of the group coming back, girls pressed against the frat brothers, trying to make the most of their remaining high instead of heading to class.

They pause to take a breath of air, (they could hear Mai mock gagging in the back) before sending each other a secret nod.

“You feel that pucker in your asshole? You know shit’s about to get real,” Katara says in a low voice.

Zuko’s slamming her against the fireplace once more, this time Katara’s hand now finding contact with Beatrice herself. In a flash she’s shoving the phallic toy in her jacket, sprinting for the door.

Chan, eagle eyed as ever, and experienced in the art of recognizing dildo thievery, instantly shoves Ty Lee off his lap. “Don’t you dare take the fucking house trophy, bitch!” He barely finishes his sentence, before he’s shoved to the ground by an enthusiastic Zuko, who grabs Katara’s hand and breaks into a run.

They run, run, run until they reach Zuko’s apartment, collapsing on the patch of fake grass at the front of the building. He still has his hand intertwined with hers, her other hand having a vice like grip on the sex toy.

“You know what, I don’t care about making other friends. You’re all I need.”

“I know.” Katara can’t stop the smile from growing on her face.

#zutara fanfiction #zuko x katara #zutara #zutaramonth #zutara month 2020 #day 25 #they share a hotel room #but it's an airbnb bc i said so #atla

26 notes · View notes

problematicwelshman · 5 years ago

Text

Michael Sheen on Good Omens, sex scenes, and why Brexit led to his break-up

28 NOVEMBER 2018 • 4:18PM

Michael Sheen may be 49, and sporting a grey beard these days, but mention Martians and the actor reverts to a breathless, giddy teenager.

It all stems back to one evening when Sheen was about 12 years old. “It was a significant moment in my life,” he tells me over coffee in a London hotel. “My cousin Hugh was babysitting, and he put on Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds.

“I remember us lying there, listening in bed in the dark. It absolutely terrified me, but I got obsessed with it. I’m worryingly into it. I know every single note, every word.”

Wayne’s 1978 rock opera has had a similar effect on countless fans, even if it prompts a bemused shrug from non-converts. Without ever topping the charts, it has slowly become one of the best-selling British albums of all time, and this Friday begins a stadium tour featuring a 35-foot fire-breathing Martian and a 3D hologram of Liam Neeson. It’s a geeky novelty, but one of epic proportions.

When Wayne asked Sheen if he would star in a new radio drama-style version for the album’s 40th anniversary, alongside Taron Egerton and Ade Edmondson, the Welsh actor “bit his hand off”. It had always been his dream. For decades, whether doing serious political dramas such as Frost/Nixon or the great roles of classical theatre – Hamlet, Henry V – the one part Sheen really wanted involved Martians saying “ulla-ulla”.

“When I was doing Caligula at the Donmar [in 2003], I was filming The Deal during the day – which was the first time I’d played Tony Blair,” he says. “I’d be so tired, to wake myself up [before the play] I would do whole sections of War of the Worlds.” He can even beatbox the sound effects, he adds proudly. “The other guys in the dressing room would all be really pissed off with me - but I was playing Caligula, so they had to put up with it.”

Enthusing about an outtake on a collectors version of the album where you can hear Richard Burton coughing, Sheen briefly slips into an impression of the late actor. It’s eerily spot-on. Burton played the role he takes in the new version, which feels apt; growing up in Port Talbot, Sheen was aware of following in his footsteps.

“Coming from the same town as him really helped,” he says. “It’s place you wouldn’t necessarily think would be very sympathetic to acting – it’s an old steel town, very working class, quite a macho place – but because of Richard Burton, and then Anthony Hopkins, there’s the sense that it’s possible [to be an actor], and people have a respect for it.

“Ultimately, though, we’re very different actors - Burton was very much a charismatic leading man, and I’m probably more of a character actor. He wasn’t known for his versatility.” Sheen, by contrast, is a chameleon, as he proved with a remarkable run of biopics from 2006-9, playing Tony Blair, David Frost, Brian Clough, Kenneth Williams and the Roman emperor Nero on screen in the space of just four years.

He concedes that he may have made a “partly conscious” decision to avoid biopics since then. “I’ve been offered quite a few I didn’t do. I did feel, for a bit, it was probably good for me to move away from it – certainly from playing Blair at least, because that’s the one I became synonymous with. I’d quite happily play real people again, but it’s hard to find good scripts and it takes a lot of homework. With some parts I’ve been offered, you might only have a few weeks to prepare for it - and you can’t do that with Clough or Kenneth Williams.”

Despite his best intentions, Sheen is playing another Blair in his next film – The Voyage of Doctor Doolittle, where he’s the nemesis of Robert Downey Jr’s animal-loving hero. “I don’t know if they did that as a joke or not,” he says. “He’s Blair Müdfly – there’s an umlaut that he is very specific about. He was at college with Doolittle, and hates him, and becomes the antagonist because of his jealousy of Doolittle. Müdfly is employed to try and stop him from finding... what he wants to find.” As the film isn’t out for 13 months, Sheen is tight-lipped about further plot details – but he hints that Müdfly is “a villain in the tradition of Terry-Thomas villains.”

It’s the latest in a series of quirky, eyebrow-raising roles. After playing a vampire in the Twilight films and a werewolf in the Underworld franchise, Sheen says he would often be asked in interviews why a “serious classical actor” was wasting his time on fantasy films.

“There’s a lot of snobbishness about genre,” he says. “I think some of the greatest writing of the 20th and 21st centuries has happened in science fiction and fantasy.” While promoting the films, he would back up that point by citing his favourite authors – Stephen King, Philip K Dick, Neil Gaiman. “Time went on, and then one day my doorbell rang and there was a big box being delivered. I opened the box up and there was a card from Neil saying ‘From one fan to another’, and all these first editions of his books.”

It was the beginning an enduring friendship, which recently became a professional partnership: Sheen stars in Gaiman’s forthcoming TV series Good Omens, based on a 1990 novel he wrote with the late Terry Pratchett. Set in the days before a biblical apocalypse, its sprawling list of characters includes an angel called Aziraphale (Sheen) and a demon called Crowley (David Tennant) who have known each other since the days of Adam and Eve.

“I wanted to play Aziraphel being sort of in love with Crowley,” says Sheen. “They’re both very bonded and connected anyway, because of the two of them having this relationship through history - but also because angels are beings of love, so it’s inevitable that he would love Crowley. It helped that loving David is very easy to do.”

What kind of love - platonic, romantic, erotic? “Oh, those are human, mortal labels!” Sheen laughs. “But that was what I thought would be interesting to play with. There’s a lot of fan fiction where Aziraphale and Crowley get a bit hot and heavy towards each other, so it’ll be interesting to see how an audience reacts to what we’ve done in bringing that to the screen.”

Steamy fan fiction aside, it’s unlikely Good Omens will match the raunch levels of his last major TV series, Masters of Sex (2013-16), a drama about the pioneering sexologists Masters and Johnson. In the wake of the last year’s #MeToo revelations, HBO has introduced “intimacy co-ordinators” for its shows - but, Sheen tells me, Masters of Sex was ahead of the curve in handling sex scenes with caution.

“It was a lot easier for myself and Lizzy [Caplan, his co-star], as we were comfortable in that set-up, because we had status in it. But for people in the background, or doing just one scene, it’s different,” he says. “It became clear very quickly that there needed to be guidelines for people who didn’t have that kind of status, who would probably not speak up. We started talking about that, and decided there need to be clear rules.”

Sex scenes, he continues, “should absolutely be treated the same way as other things where there’s a danger. If you’re doing stage-fighting, or pyrotechnics, there are rules and everyone just sticks to them. Whether it’s physical danger, or emotional, or psychological, it’s just as important.”

Despite having several film and TV parts on the horizon, Sheen says he is still in semi-retirement from acting. In 2016 he hinted that he might be quit for good to campaign against populism. “In the same way as the Nazis had to be stopped in Germany in the Thirties, this thing that is on the rise has to be stopped," he said at the time. But now things are less cut. “I have two jobs now, essentially,” he says. "Acting takes second place."

While many celebrity activists limit their politics to save-the-dolphins posturing, Sheen has been working with a range of unfashionable grassroots groups aiming to combat inequality, support small communities and fight fake news. As well as supporting Welsh credit unions, and sponsoring a women’s football team in the tiny village of Goytre, he tells me that he's been “commissioning research into alternative funding models for local journalism”.

If he returns to the stage any time soon, he says it’s likely to be in a show about “political historical socio-economic stuff, a one-man show with very low production values”. It’s clear he’s not in it for the glamour.

Sheen was inspired to become more politically active by the Brexit referendum – which also indirectly led him to break up with his partner of four years, the comedian Sarah Silverman. At the time, they were living together in the US. “We both had very similar drives, and yet to act on those drives pulled us in different directions – because she is American and I’m Welsh,” he explains.

“After the Brexit vote, and the election where Trump became president, we both felt in different ways we wanted to get more involved. That led to her doing her show I Love You America [in which Silverman interviewed people from across the political spectrum], and it led to me wanting to address the issues that I thought led some people to vote the way they did about Brexit, in the area I come from and others like it.”

They still speak lovingly of each other, which makes their decision to end a happy relationship for the sake of politics look painfully quixotic. Talking about it, Sheen sounds a little wistful, but he’s utterly certain they made the right choice. “I felt a responsibility to do something, but it did mean coming back here – which was difficult for us, because we were very important to each other. But we both acknowledge that each of us had to do what we needed to do.”

#michael sheen #dolittle #the voyage of doctor dolittle #he got so irrationally mad at this article on twitter #but hey bringing it back because people wanted to read it #and it had info about dolittle #but it's locked behind a paywall #so here u go fam

54 notes · View notes

ghoulsters2 · 5 years ago

Text

Ghoulsters review (is that what I should call these now? Spooky sypnosis? Creepy commentary?)

-Once I saw the preview for the ep that said they were going to a spooky jail I was like, “oh we gonna find some GHOSTS then”

-”sniffs feels like a good spot for a demon.” uhhh shane how would you know what a demon spot feels like?

-Shane continues to threaten the demons back to hell while sitting aggressively in a chair, while ryan has a power stance next to him.

-”Cowards!” “True.” at least the ghost is being honest

-”We got a beatboxing demon in here?” I need fanart of that, stat.

-”Ghosts will supposedly whisper in your ear as you pass them by” this made me instantly think of that hey little mama lemme whisper in your ear vine

-”FBA? Nah. Choo choo pickle pie? Hell yeah!”-Shane, probably

-That backing out bit was hilarious (kinda felt like a scene from the office)

-”This is a stupid season” and that’s why we love it

-poor Jeremiah :(

-Even if she did murder people, Lavinia sounds super badass

-Trying to seduce a ghost by drumming their bellybuttons. I love this.

-For the sake of the Boogaras, I think that is a ghost.

-Those glasses are a 10/10, and Shane has a wonderful singing voice as always.

-As you can see folks, the wild Ryan Bergara begins to descend into madness as he thinks the shadows consume him, yelling as he sprints through the rooms. From a distance, a wild Shane listens into the yelling, smiling at the thought of his friend getting tortured by ghosts.

-I love Ryan just going “YAHHHH” and just breaking my ears

-Ricky really just popped in this scene, didn’t he?

-Ryan is shook™

-even though we still have a post-mortem, I’m still really sad this season is ending. but they certainly gave us plenty of meme content to work with over the hiatus.

#bfu #buzzfeed unsolved #buzzfeed unsolved supernatural #shane madej #ryan bergara #shaniacs #boogaras #reeders

34 notes · View notes

greensungnostic · 5 years ago

Text

shit, lets be santa!!!

You've been busy at work, scurrying around to make gifts for people this season, when you're not busy being tender and affectionate or adventurous with your shipmates. You've got a good number of things made - some things are duplicated with slight variants for some of the alternates you know, some are uniquely crafted.

For @robottattooartist : You've made a tiny robotic unicorn, small enough to stand on a laptop without squishing it. It's all orange mane and white hide, semi-realistically crafted, that leaves a glimmering jpeggy holographic afterimage behind itself as it runs about. Its voice seems to be made from a cobbled together audio file of Dirk's own voice, made to say "neigh" or "snort" or "whinny" in one of twelve variants apiece. The horn is a tiny, sharp katana with an orange scabbard over it. The whole thing smells faintly of Orange Crush.

For @hotshithaxxorbitch , something in a similar vein - a full scale replica of one of their Minecraft cats, cubic construction and all, but in real life. More than a little ridiculous to look at, but no less affectionate and strange than any of their "real" Minecraft cats.

Following the theme, @cyb3rbvlly gets a replica of the ender dragon, but small enough to perch on the edge of a coffee mug. Its dragon breath is just a faint quickly dispersing fragrance.

@adorastupid gets, if he's around to check his transmaterializer, a fresh basket of fruits and veggies, and a packet of mixed seeds to grow some of your strange crossbreeds, complete with diagrams and instructions for care.

@artificialgrievand gets a nice little robotics tune-up kit and a broad sunhat that you just happen to think will look cute on her, with reinforced horn holes punched in already. Simple, but heartfelt.

@joeyjaidenharleyclaire gets, if she can provide coordinates for their dispatch, a bundle of earth snacks she might have missed - alchemized of course - along with a self-lacing pair of tapshoes (not unlike ones from Back to the Future) and a picture of yourself and June, her no longer secret siblings.

@8ayesian is a tough one to do things for, given her often prickly exterior, but all the same you've sent a fun looking cookbook and also crafted her a flashlight imbued with green sun light - refracted back towards usable hues - but no less able to cut through the Void of the strange dark spaces she ends up in.

@jadeyharls , aka Jade Nebula, gets a hat taken straight from one of the Pokemon games - albeit with earholes added - to commemorate your shared experience of becoming increasingly populous Trainers. You also include a little gizmo shaped like a flower to give her robotic hummingbird an upgrade when he sups from it, a Christmas card with a picture of you, Rose, Dovesprite, June, and all the dogs and pokés gathered around, with a booklet of Bec Visitation Vouchers clipped to the back should she ever want you to dispatch Bec to come say hi.

You've got a gift prepared for your moirail-alternate if she ever comes back, but for the time being it seems like there's only a combative and anti-holiday troll taking her place still. If @puppydogejade Pup ever does return, she'll have a sturdy metal replica of the transformation device of one of those hero shows she likes so much. It even makes sounds and holographic light displays.

For catmom, aka @gr33nspeak you've made a fancy little staff using a bit of carefully trimmed branchwood from the enormous oak on the edge of your ship, the one you've jokingly called The Yiffdrasil. Its size and age accelerated by Time manipulation from Dovesprite, the whole tree is enormous, and the staff you've crafted for her feels sturdy and ancient in its dense gnarled heft. You don't know if she uses staves, but it feels very druidic. You even include a pressed leaf and a picture of the tree itself, with June visible next to a root for scale. It's big.

@madgodsmistress gets a book on how to get rid of demons. You know the kinds of nonsense she gets up to, and you'd like her to be well armed to rid herself of them, if she must tamper at all. It comes wrapped up in a deepest black scarf, the twinkle of starlight visible if it's pulled up over her head.

@gunplaying gets a gift that's in a similar vein to one you've given him before, but this time outside of Minecraft. Treasures, trinkets, and tomes delved from the depths of a ruin on LoFaF, with a purposely flowery handwritten adventure journal as if you're a turn of the century explorer, as well as plenty of Polaroid pictures for kid grandpa to look at.

Aradia down in the belly of the ship, @ribbitingrams , gets a collection of cool skeletal remains of monsters and creatures from the Lands you've visited, because you know she always has a fondness for relics and bones.

For most other Roses you provide a new computerized headband with a semisolid hologram display and a box of chocolates because you are kind of predictable in adoring their Lalondean charms.

For other Egberts than your own, you have to dip into some timelines that haven't been meteor smashed yet, to track down autographed VHS or DVD copies of films like Deep Impact and Failure to Launch, because you know that even if some of them claim to have improved their taste in films, they'll still get a kick out of goofy stuff like this.

Daves and Doves etc, other than your own get two gifts - a joke one that's a "copy of your fire mixtape", purposely shitty tracks of you beatboxing over mellow bass guitar riffs for the sake of irony, and one of a jarred and preserved SBURBan monster, pickled rather than letting them burst into grist. That seems like a Strider style gift.

Any other Dirks you know - you can't think of any but you prepare a gift or two just in case - purposely goofy of course, because that's just the strider way. Reasonably nice drawing tablets with a stylus attached to a blunt katana to make it as hard to draw as possible, for the challenge and irony of it.

Other Roxys young and old get fun/ugly alchemized cat sweaters with a tiny voicebox that says "meow!" when squeezed, and a stash of helpful science tools for good measure. When you're not sure what to get someone exactly, you like to go with a surface level cute thing, and a practical gift to go with it.

Other fellow Jades get dog sweaters and samples of your botanical and technical works, an exchange of notes basically. What else would you get yourself if not cute dog things and stuff to pick apart and study?

Jane - both the one from your timeline, busy as she is - and any others who you may know - get the most scandalous gift of all; indie cookbooks from something other than Crockercorp, plus a spoon for their strifekind that also has a sleuthing magnifying glass built in.

June gets a few dresses you help her alchemize, a few of those autographed copies of movies, and one of the jumpsuits Sigourney Weaver wore in Alien. That one really seems to get her hyped up.

Dovesprite's gift is a stack of records - some good, some just scratching-bait, for her turntables from some Earth's record store and a brush-like tool for preening her feathers easier.

Nannasprite gets a lot of hugs and affection and some new baking impedimentia, but she's more eager to dote on you and June than vice versa.

Grandpa of course gets the customary tin of biscuits and of his favourite tobacco, placed on the corner of his desk while you sneak in to give him a peck on the cheek in his study. You'll give him a rundown of all the recent happenings later when you're not on your mad gift run.

@tacittherapist gets perhaps the most gifts, because she's your primary partner. An attempt at knitting her a Squiddle - never the most skillful effort, but there's effort there all the same; a bouquet of flowers from your garden, their ends not snipped but carefully wormholed such that they don't expire nearly as fast, staying lush and vibrant for weeks into the new year; a bit of tasteful jewelry crafted from amber or jadeite in cute and slightly goth trappings; and coupons for massages and other little acts of tender service.

#long post #cw long post #solo writing #if i forgot you pls let me know!

10 notes · View notes