#i mean i said this earlier but a lot of people are so hung up on intentions they ignore the harm of actions

[utilitycaster]

I have to say I find the "what if predathos is just a mindless hungry being/just a baby" argument utterly irrelevant to any discussion. Like RIP to you, literally, but if a mindless entity or an animal capable of killing me were to try to kill me, while I would hopefully make an attempt to de-escalate or capture it or safely escape without doing any harm, I would also in fact not feel bad if I had to kill it to save my life. It's interesting on an academic level to consider whether Predathos could have been reasoned with or stopped in other ways, but I do not judge someone who has watched their family disappear into its jaws for saying "I'm not waiting to find out"

[squish--squash]

I'm rewatching Good Omens, and noticed something in the first episode that has left me spiraling into a theory.

It's in the scene when Hastur and Ligur are handing Adam over to Crowley. Hastur asks Crowley to sign something beforehand, and:

I thought it was a scribble the first time I watched it bc I was trying to figure out what was going on. But it's not a scribble.

It's not a 'C' either, for 'Crowley' It's not a 'A' or 'J' either, for the rest of his name.

It's an 'L'. It gets hard to see as he's finishing it, but it's the letter 'L'

This is how you write a capital 'L' in cursive:

you swoop up and to the right, drop down, swoop left, and finish on the right.

and Crowley does this with his signature:

here's him beginning the letter, swooping up and to the right

Then he moves down,

loops to the left,

And finishes it as he moves back towards the right (and at this point, the complete letter is hard to make out. It's why I thought it was a scribble the first time I watched this episode)

Crowley's signature on the document Hastur makes him sign before delivering the Antichrist to start Armageddon, something that is arguably one of the most important things hell wants to document, is an 'L'.

WHY?

Why not a 'C', for Crowley, the name he currently goes by? Hastur and Ligur confirm the name itself earlier in the same scene ("What's he calling himself up here these days?"/"Crowley.")

Well, if going by what he claims in a later s1 episode that "Crowley" is his last name (Anthony J. Crowley), it would make sense for one of his initials to be put there.

Except it doesn't, because "Crowley" is not his real name. it's not the name he began with, the one he had as an angel.

So then, what would this name be? What would be a name for an angel, who is now a demon? A demon who was there to tempt eve, as a snake, into eating the forbidden fruit. Someone that brought the stars, and light, to the universe. A name that begins with the letter 'L'.

There's one I can think of that matches, and that name is Lucifer.

"But Squish!" I know some of y'all will comment, "What about that line Crowley said in episode 5? He mentions Lucifer, so it can't be him!"

In episode 5, Crowley says the following: "I never asked to be a demon. I was just minding my own business one day and then...oh, lookie here, it's Lucifer and the guys! Oh, hey, the food hadn't been that good lately. I didn't have anything on for the rest of that afternoon. Next thing, I'm doing a million-light-year dive into a pool of boiling sulphur."

Crowley also says in the second episode: "I didn't mean to fall. I just hung out with the wrong people."

A lot of people believe that it's implied that when Crowley said this, it meant he met Lucifer and hung out with him. But when he says it, it sounds like he's mockingly quoting someone else, talking to him.

The "Lucifer and the guys!" might've been directed to Crowley, using his name. This would match that line from a previous episode, "hung out with the wrong people."

"But Squish!" I know some of y'all will comment after reading that, "What about Satan? Lucifer is Satan, and Crowley isn't Satan!"

And neither is Beelzebub. Fun fact, by the way: One of the many names for The Devil, Satan himself, is Beelzebub. But Beelzebub is a whole different character. So why can't Lucifer be a whole different character too? After all, many people still argue to this day that Lucifer and Satan aren't one and the same...

Also, here's something interesting:

Crowley is the only character in the tv series that has mentioned Lucifer, and it was in that line I mentioned earlier. Lucifer is also mentioned once, in the book, but by Shadwell, mishearing Newt's last name as "Lucifer" instead of "Pulsifer". And Satan? In both the book and the tv show, he is never called another name other than "Satan", usually followed by his fancy and long title. His description in the book's "DRAMATIS PERSONAE" is literally "fallen angel; the adversary". No Lucifer.

And how about this:

Crowley was the one who started the universe, we see that at the beginning of season 2. He was the first one, to our knowledge, to say "let there be light." "Lucifer" means "light-bringer" Crowley was the snake that tempted eve into eating the apple in the garden of eve. We see this in the beginning of episode one. Many claim Lucifer was the one who did that. Crowley fell because he asked questions about how the universe should be run, after seeing its creation and being so proud of it. Many claim Lucifer's big sin that sent him falling was his pride stemming from his beauty causing him to revolt; eerily similar to Crowley asking questions after watching the beautiful universe he helped plan be born and growing protective after learning it was going to get shut down so early in its lifetime, isn't it? Crowley was a powerful angel. This is heavily implied in season 2, with the tiny joint-miracle he and Aziraphale made being as powerful as an archangel's. He has the ability to mask his presence powerful enough to fool Uriel, Michael, and Gabriel (the only other character we've seen have that kind of masking power was the Metatron, who Crowley was also the first to recognize). When going through records with Muriel, they claim only very high-ranking angels have clearance to look through the records of Gabriel, an archangel so powerful he single-handedly had the power to stop "Armageddon 2" from being put into plan; Crowley is able to access them. And Lucifer? Often described as having been a very powerful angel.

Lucifer is such an important name, such an important character, in the theologies surrounding Good Omens. So, where is he? Why has he only been mentioned seriously once, by Crowley?

The answer could be this, simple and short: Because he is Crowley.

EDIT:

I dug up the book. It's been a while since I read it (I honestly don't remember much from the book) and here's what it has to say about Crowley's signature...

"Your real name."

.........

HELLO?

EDIT 2:

I found this post from Neil Gaiman's blog. The wording is confusing me, and I can't tell if this debunks or supports the theory..

What Neil Gaiman says is "That was the angel Lucifer. He doesn't exist any more. Now there's just Satan, the adversary." which might throw this entire thing out of the window, but the thing is: he never said Satan used to be Lucifer. He just said Lucifer doesn't exist anymore, but Satan does.

Furthermore, the person who first asked a question asks more questions, two of them: 1. Is Satan what's left of Lucifer after he fell and stopped existing, and 2. If so, does that mean there was an angel that existed that then fell and turned into crowley?

Neil Gaiman's answer is "As far as Crowley is concerned, the Angel that he was no longer exists. (And his name as an Angel wasn’t Crawley or Crowley.)"

He doesn't confirm or deny anything about Satan in that. All he said was "the Angel that he was no longer exists" and that Crowley's angel name wasn't his demon name.

Huh. Funny. He's saying angel!crowley no longer exists, when he just revealed that Lucifer "doesn't exist any more." Either there's a connection here, or I'm going insane.

[blindmagdalena]

how do you think homie would react to reader breaking up with him because they have very different morals (homie kills people, ik he's babygirl but he does just brutally kill people, reader is a pacifist)

-bree(sorry for multiple asks in short time :P)

cw gaslighting, imprisonment, manhandling. no more mr. nice homelander.

"Fine, listen, listen, if it means that much to you, I won't do it anymore," Homelander says, hands lifted placatingly. The way he says it makes it sound like he's doing you a favor. Like you're overreacting to a mild infraction. You stare, mouth agape. "This... This isn't some bad habit. You kill people."

"Yeah," he agrees, a slight strain creeping into his voice. "Yeah! Okay. And? Lots of people kill people. And typically, I only kill people who're also killing people." "Typically," you echo, at a loss. How can he be so flippant about this? It's like he hasn't heard a single word you've said. "You don't care. At all." "Why should I care? Why should you care? It's not like I'm killing people you like, or even know," he says, his exasperation with you intensifying. "But you love me. So just... Cool off, alright? Sleep on it. Before you do something you'll regret."

The shift in his voice when he says that runs a chill up your spine. "Are you threatening me?" "What?" Homelander laughs. "No! Of course not. Babe, listen to yourself. C'mon, I know you're upset-" he moves to take your hand, but for the first time, you yank it from his reach, crossing your arms. His hand hovers in the space yours had been for a moment, his eyes locked on the same spot. He inhales a slow breath, his fingers curling into a fist before dropping back to his side.

When he looks at you, his gaze is bereft of any playfulness. Your denial of him has flipped a switch in him that you've never seen before.

"You're tired," he says, voice set low. Any traces of the lighthearted pretense from earlier has been dropped. "It's late. You have a lot to process. So, we are going to put this aside for tonight. You are going to come to bed with me, and we'll talk about it in the morning, when you're calm." "I am calm," you tell him, refusing to let him make you feel like you're the one being unreasonable. "Please move. I already told my friend I'm on my way," you lie. You wish you had. You wish you realized sooner you would need to. Homelander had always been so utterly devoted to you. He hung on your every word, met your every whim, loved you so thoroughly that he made you feel like his entire world. Only now have you realized the dangers of that kind of love.

His mouth twitches. "Which friend?"

You begin to answer, wanting to give validity to your fiction, but an awful thought occurs to you. Would he hurt them? "It doesn't matter," You reply instead, clutching your overnight bag. "I need space, and I don't want you coming to me before I'm ready. Please, move," you say, voice wavering. He was making this so much more painful than it already was. You do love him, but he's making you feel like you barely even know him.

Homelander taps his hands on his thighs, considering you. After a prolonged silence, just before you open your mouth to speak again, he claps his hands together. "Alright. Sure," he says, stepping forward. You step backwards. "Door's right there." You're immediately relieved, but there's a nagging feeling in your gut. "Thank you," you say softly, adjusting your grip on your bag. "I'll call, okay?" Homelander offers a sideways nod, seeming... resigned. You feel the guilt of it weigh heavily, and for a split second, you question yourself, whether what you're doing is right or fair. You have to steel yourself before your resolve falters. You need time away from him to collect yourself, and figure out what to do about the man you, as it turns out, know very little about.

Just as you pass him, you feel a sudden grip on your arm, and in a flash you're spun around, stumbling back into the penthouse. You stare wide-eyed for a moment, turning back around. Poised exactly as he had been before, Homelander stands in front of the door, hands on his hips. His brows lift slightly. "Well?" Your heart is racing now. "What are you doing?"

"Go on," he says, ignoring your question. "Door's right there."

Anger rolls through you in a heated wave. "I'm not playing this game with you," you say, moving to shove more forcibly passed him this time, but once again he catches you with a hand on your wrist, spinning you around with such ease, you may as well weigh nothing at all. Yet again you stumble back into the penthouse, tears welling in your eyes as you round on him. "Stop it! Get out of my way!" "Door's wide open, babe. All you have to do is get to it, and you can leave," he says, voice perfectly relaxed, devoid of any passion or empathy.

With a frustrated cry, you hurl your bag at him, and full on sprint towards the door. You get closer this time, but just as you reach for the knob, Homelander takes you by your shoulders and spins you right around. Your own momentum carries you further in. You barely catch yourself from falling, letting go a sob that's equal parts rage and heartbreak. Who is this man?

This time, you throw yourself bodily towards the door, screaming your distress, your anger. You do it again and again and again, and every time, Homelander spins you right back around. On the final attempt, as he once again redirects you, the force of your own momentum hurls you to the ground.

"Do you get it yet?" Homelander asks, cocking his head to the side, checking to see if you're picked up on this lesson in futility. "You don't call the shots here. You don't get to just decide we're done. Relationships go two ways, sweetheart," he says. That petname used to give you butterflies. It sounds sour on his tongue now. You hear him sigh, closer to you now.

"Didn't think you'd be that stubborn. But I guess I've always loved that about you when it wasn't pointed at me, huh?" He asks, a playful little lilt slipping back into his voice. You struggle when he scoops you up, you make an animalistic noise of pure aggravation, but it's as fruitless as ever. Homelander is both an unstoppable force and an immovable object, his grip on you like steel. He cannot be stopped, or even hindered, as he carries you towards the bedroom. He sets you down on the bed, and out of pure unthinking fury, you raise your hand to slap him across the face. The strike lands, but Homelander doesn't so much as twitch. Your hand smarts, you may as well have slapped a brick wall. You clutch your wrist, letting go another sob. It aches immediately, frail in comparison to his unyielding frame.

Cupping either side of your face, Homelander swipes away your tears with his thumbs, watching you impassively. There's patience in his expression, though it looks stretched thin.

"I know you're upset," he says, an echo of earlier, as if picking up right from where he'd left off. As if nothing of the last twenty minutes had even happened. "But we'll get through this. And hey, hey, I'm not even mad at you, okay? Because that's what it means when you love someone. You forgive them." You feel numbed by your own plethora of tumultuous emotions, strung out and exhausted. You close your eyes, unable to stomach the loving way he's gazing at you. He kisses your forehead, wringing a weak, hiccupped little noise out of you. "That's my girl. I love you more than anything. You know that, right? That I would never do anything to hurt you?" No matter how gentle his hold on you is, it's inescapable. You have no choice but to face him, bleary as he is through your tear-welled eyes. Unable to push an answer through the tightness in your throat, you just nod.

"That's right. Of course you do. Because if I wanted to hurt you, I would have. It would have been easy, huh?" Those words break something in you. You lose whatever bit of composure you had built back up, and you begin to sob anew, an agonized sound. Homelander's expression twists. He's never liked seeing you cry. He's also never been the source of it.

"Shhh, shhhh, hey, it's alright. You're okay. I would never let anything happen to you," he says, as if he wasn't the very thing happening to you in this moment. He kisses your forehead again, your tear-streaked cheeks, and finally your lips.

You don't have any fight left in you. Not against the press of his lips, and not against the way he brings you under the covers with him, clothes and all.

He pulls you against his chest the same way he has a hundred times before, as if this is any other night that the two of you have fallen asleep in each others embrace.

You hug your arms tight to your chest, crying hard, while he rubs your back, hushing you. Comforting you, as any good boyfriend should.

"It's alright. I've got you," he says, his arms an oppressive force around you. "I've got you."

[lewkwoodnco]

I got options, babe - Lockwood x Reader

“It’s a snow globe.”

In a miraculous moment of clarity, she realised what George was violently trying to communicate to her from behind Lockwood: play dumb.

”What’s a snow globe?”

George was positively beside himself.

a/n: the people have spoken so here is part 2 to buy me presents! am so sad i fell a little sick during the hols, threw a terrible wrench in my 12 days of fics plans for last year but i'm alr planning ahead for this year :))) yes its xmas themed but the vibes are close enough to valentines so shush. if i was in the l&co universe i would pay good money to see someone tell george to live laugh love, and i would tip extra if it was lockwood hehe. also I tagged a few extra ppl who seemed interested in a sequel!

warnings/tropes: lockwood x glassmith!reader, mostly fluffy, only a smidge of angst towards the end, clueless lockwood my beloved <3

word count: 2.6k!

buy me presents (pt 1)

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

When Lockwood had shaken George awake plenty of hours before, it had taken a while for George's brain to catch up to what was happening. By the time it did, he was worriedly watching Lockwood animatedly talking to one of the shop assistants from a nearby telephone booth.

"No idea what it is, or why..." he was telling Lucy. Lockwood was looking around for him. George nervously shifted behind one of the bars of the booth. 

"Maybe he's just blowing off some steam?"

Lockwood was now wearing an aggressively tinseled Santa hat while wielding an identical one. George had a pretty good idea who that was for.

"Er, maybe. But perhaps you should come home too. Just in case."

Lockwood had finally spotted George and was frantically waving him over. George did not like the way the Christmas lights were reflecting in Lockwood's eyes.

"For the love of God, Luce, please come home. You can't leave with me...this."

With a bone-deep sigh, George regretfully hung up and emerged from the telephone booth, smiling weakly at Lockwood.

He was more than grateful for his presence of mind earlier, once they had reached Portland Row. Lucy walked in just minutes after Lockwood's unpleasant realisation about Nicholas and guffawed at the sight of the tiny tsunami of gifts.

"Brilliant," George said. "Your turn." He handed Lucy one of the last presents he had been holding and disappeared into the kitchen. She turned towards Lockwood incredulously, who was indignantly standing in front of the sea of presents with his hands on his hips. She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, okay, I see how it is. I buy a few gi-"

"In what WORLD is this few-"

"- few gifts, and suddenly I'm the bad guy. It's Christmas, but I'm feeling a lot of negativity pent up here."

"Now you're just deflecting." Lucy rolled her eyes as Lockwood started fishing out some receipts from his pockets.

"Can't a guy spend...uh...three-oh. Oh. That's a lot of zeroes."

"Lockwood. How much did you spend?"

"...suddenly, I don't think I know any numbers past ten."

"Lockwood!"

"I couldn't figure out the installment plans! That's Y/N's job!"

George returned to the front door corridor and started picking up some boxes at random and shaking them experimentally.

"Yeah, a fine job you've left her to sort out your debts! No more shopping till Easter. And George, if you don't steal his wallet, I will."

He held up the present he was holding to Lockwood. "Listen, I don't think Y/N's going to want all of these, so how about I -"

"Absolutely not."

George made a rather rude gesture and disappeared back into the kitchen. Lockwood bent over to start clearing a path through the presents to the stairs.

"How was I supposed to know she was only kidding?"

"You know what her sense of humour's like. George and I would have picked up on it in a second."

A very unhappy Lockwood straightened out from under the avalanche of presents. 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A little before lunch, Lockwood knocked on the attic door. It was ajar, and she was reading in a contorted position, all twisted up with a blanket on her rug in the one patch of sunlight in the room, leaning against her bed. She nearly tipped over when Lockwood poked his head in, but caught herself in time.

"Hey."

"Hey."

They stared at each other for a moment. It was the first time they had been alone since the morning's happenings, and it didn't feel as easy to laugh about it all when it was just them. Because the truth was, she didn't find it all that funny. Confusing, yes. Stressful, perhaps. But it wasn't that funny when all the emotions felt excruciatingly true. She closed her book, and Lockwood took another step in, leaning against the bannister.

"I'm sorry about the whole Nicholas thing. I was having a laugh, that's all. I never wanted to make you seem...foolish."

"I don't even remember Nicholas. I mean, that guy."

"Lockwood."

"Who's Loc- I mean, Nicholas? I'm Lockwood."

"Yes, I know."

"And I don't feel foolish. Do you think I'm foolish?"

She smiled at him with rheumy eyes, and his face twisted strangely like he was suppressing his own smile. His eyes drifted to the book in her lap, and the blanket swaddling her face.

"Er, reading?"

"Trying to. The sun's making me feel so sleepy."

"Then move out of the sun. Or take a nap."

She glared at him, scoffing incomprehensibly. "T-take a nap? What am I, 5? And we barely get any sun as it is, I'm trying to thaw my insides."

"Can you even breathe in that?"

She took a wheezing breath. "...yes."

Still, Lockwood sat down next to her, and after a bit of scuffling, she was tipped slightly to her side, leaning against him slightly. She was starting to regret using such a thick blanket through which she barely felt his shoulder. He picked up the book and opened it to the pages her finger was stuck between, and started reading. She closed her eyes and listened. It was some dream to be sitting next to him, without the usual inches between, to hear his honeyed voice ebb and flow, to watch his fingers smooth the pages and fiddle with the edges.

It was mildly disconcerting to hear the shape of his voice take on such a poetic form as if they were in some parallel universe. As if they were in some parallel universe where falling in love was easier than falling asleep.

A few hours later, she woke up on her bed with a jolt, writhing uncomfortably in her blanket. Once she had managed to peel herself out of it, the embarrassment of having fallen asleep on him sunk in. She needed something to take her mind off it and eventually decided to tinker in her workshop. Down in the basement, she had a small makeshift workshop set up for the occasional tinkering or fiddling with some spare parts. It helped her mind relax when her hands had something to do.

She spent a very peaceful hour regluing some tiny diamonds that had fallen off an old watch. That was, until a door banged open from somewhere else in the house, followed by frantic voices. She looked up in alarm as the footsteps drew closer, blinking owlishly behind her magnifying eyeglasses. Her door swung open and Lockwood walked in, closely followed by a barely suppressed silent, but very agitated, George.

“Y/N, look what I found in George’s suitcase.”

Between the panicked sirens blaring in her head and George’s epileptic hand gestures, it was a miracle she was able to process all those words in the right order.

“…oh?”

A frozen smile sat on her face as her eyes nervously darted between the boys’ faces.

“It’s a snow globe.”

In a miraculous moment of clarity, she realised what George was violently trying to communicate to her: play dumb.

”What’s a snow globe?”

George was positively beside himself.

Lockwood, on the other hand, looked alarmed and touchingly concerned.

“You...you don’t know what a snow globe is? Do they not have snow globes where you’re from?”

“Did you just ask me if they have snow globes…in Hackney?”

He looked slightly miffed, but she couldn’t stay annoyed for long with his foolishly good-natured intentions.

“Look, Lockwood, I’m a little busy here. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I just…wanted to see if you knew anything about this.” He turns it over in his hand, and even with the shelter of anonymity, she finds herself desperately seeking the approval in his eyes that she had been hoping for. “It’s...it's beautiful. When I first saw it, I thought…” He looks up from the snow globe at her, where she’s holding her breath, and she’s distantly aware of how suspiciously invested she must seem in his answer.

“I thought it had to be you.”

She has his answer, but she still hasn’t let go of that breath, as if keeping at bay all the emotions and hope that will come rushing in with her exhale. He watches her face, and she’s too scared to even twitch. Too scared to come right out and say everything the snow globe meant.

“You thought wrong."

George’s seizure-like convulsions returned with a new vigour. Lockwood continues standing there for another minute, and it makes her think he hasn’t heard her until he regretfully bows his head.

“I suppose. Well, I hope your work won’t keep you long. We'll be having tea soon. Let’s- good God, George, are you having a fit?!”

After their Christmas Eve tea, they exchanged presents, and to call it an awkward affair would have been an understatement. She passed Lockwood the pair of snowman socks. George grudgingly passed him the snow globe. The absurdity of the gifts and their donors made the four of them pause for a moment. 

Finally, Lucy broke the quiet by handing out her gifts: mugs with pictures of Inspector Barnes accompanied with cheesy quotes. George's was 'live, laugh, love.' Lockwood's was 'keep calm and carry on.' But everyone was still looking far too solemn, so she nearly had an aneurysm holding back her laughter.

After they all retired to their rooms, she retreated into her chilly workshop. But instead of continuing with her work, she just sat at her desk, brooding a little. A few minutes later, there was a knock on her door as a rather breathless and pink-faced Lockwood poked his head in.

"Still working?"

She shook her head. "What are you doing?"

"Returning the presents." He turned to step out but hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want to keep any?"

"I'm sure that I would hate it if we went bankrupt. Do you need any help?"

"Oh, no, I'll be - yes. Yes, actually. These are a lot of presents. If you could spare the time...I'd really appreciate it."

So after she bundled up in her woollens and wrestled a scarf onto Lockwood, they somehow hurriedly carted the many slightly scuffed shopping bags into the cab, where they only had a brief break to catch their breath, given how close they lived to the shops. 

After that, it was a race to hit all the stores before they closed for Christmas Eve. After a couple of rounds, they had developed the fairly efficient system of Lockwood lugging the gifts around while she spoke with the shop assistants. The one drawback to their fine plan, at least for him, was her glancing at the receipts and the too-long numbers at the bottom of them ("Jesus Christ, Lockwood, how did you not have to take out a loan for these? Honestly! Do you think we're made of money?").

Finally, their luck ran out at their very last store, which looked as though it had been closed for hours. She knocked and peered inside feverishly, clutching the very last gift stubbornly.

"No, no, we were so close! Now what do we do?"

"We can come back after the holidays. Or," he gently pried the box out of her fingers, smoothly lifting the top, "you could keep it."

It was a silver charm bracelet, with rapier and lavender charms dangling from the central chain, much like the ones they laid out on jobs. It was beautiful. But she couldn't take it.

"You already gave me a present."

"Have another. A little special something for a special someone."

His cavalier attitude, his foolish smile - in that moment, it was all too much. Her terrible temper flared and she shoved the present into him, forcefully enough to make him stumble a little. She turned and started walking home briskly, fuming silently until he and his long legs finally caught up to her.

"Wha - was it something I said? Y/N? Y/N."

"I don't know, Lockwood." She was sick of his carelessness, sick enough to be a little careless herself, let her tongue run loose. "What have you said? Or haven't said?"

"Y/N, you know I'm terrible at riddles."

"Well, maybe Belinda can help you."

That stuns him enough to make him stop in his tracks. She slows down and, after steeling her fraught nerves, turns around.

"...what does Belinda have to do with anything?"

His hopelessly clueless expression, which typically soothed her anger in their worst fights, only served to infuriate her further here. She walked towards him angrily.

“I didn't want to give you the goddamn snow globe because Belinda exists. All right? Because there are a thousand different girls out there who you’ll like better than me.” There’s a sudden tightness in her chest. With some difficulty, she turns away from him, lightly pressing her sternum. “I can’t compete with them, Lockwood. I won’t let you make me.”

She hears the crunch of the snow under his shoe as he takes a step towards her.

"Belinda is...amazing. She might even be perfect. But even she's just a friend, because...because you exist. And-and I could find...the most perfect girls out there, but the image of you would still be breathing in some corner of my mind. It wouldn't be the same with anyone else. It never is."

She sniffed gently. "This might be the right time to tell you that the snow globe...was from me."

She can't decide if she hates or loves how she can hear the smile in his voice. "No. Really?"

She turns back around, smiling sarcastically at him. "Ha-ha. But don't get too excited about it. I made little figurines to represent the four of us at Portland Row, but you can't even see them from the outside. It's ridiculous."

"It's okay. I'll know they're there."

At that moment, she felt a rush of gratitude towards Lockwood. He made everything a little easier, a little sweeter. They were standing so close that she could see a tiny snowflake on one of his eyelashes. She didn't dare breathe.

"There really never was any competition."

"I know."

"Then why does it sound like you don't believe me?"

She frowned. "I do believe you."

"I don't think you do."

"...do you want me to not believe you?"

"Y/N."

"What?"

"There's something you should know."

"Lockwood, I am going to throttle you."

"You're standing under mistletoe."

She glanced upwards, and it was as though all the air had been stolen from her lungs. Against the pitch-black sky and the gentle dusting of snow, a soft white sprig of mistletoe was curling out of the edge of a branch. She lowered her eyes back to Lockwood's, and her eyes fluttered shut as he leaned over.

As impossibly close as they were before, they were even closer now, and it still felt like they would spend their whole lives trying to get close enough to each other. She kissed him the way she loved him - desperately, with her whole being. When they broke apart, the tip of his nose and cheeks were tinged pink, and there was a light dusting of snow on his hair. In that moment, all she remembered thinking was that none of his presents made a better gift than he did.

As they walked home with fingers tangled together, she realised that they didn't need some parallel universe. In every universe, they would somehow, somewhere, find each other, and dare to love. 

TAGLIST: @novelizt @thegreathuxton @avdiobliss @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[maybe-boys-do-love]

Finished Last Twilight, and I'm not adding to the ableism discourse, because most things have already been said and with a lot of beautiful nuance that I agree with. But I do want to talk about how that ending arrived because of Aof Noppharnach's consistent symbolic commentary on the experience of living with HIV in much of his work, with an approach that's unique among all queer content. Imma skip Gay OK Bangkok since its not even a metaphor there, but I'll explain my rationale for the others, and we can just appreciate the foundation Gay OK Bangkok lays for us to think about the rest of his stuff.

The motif of life-saving medical intervention comes up in all but one of the works he takes screenwriting credit on. He's Coming To Me: P'Med dies originally because of a lack of medical intervention. 1000 Stars: Tian gets a heart transplant. Moonlight Chicken: this one's more subtle, but the whole series is explicitly established in the context of reopening following the COVID pandemic, and Wen will later say to Jim, "we are survivors." It was this line upon rewatch that made me start considering how thorough this theme is. Survivors of what? The meaning is three-fold: hard lessons in love, COVID, and, for gay men of their age, the HIV epidemic. The hope of medical intervention for Day's condition takes on a secondary meaning, with this trend in mind, even if the mixed disability politics between visual impairment and being HIV positive really fails.

His comparisons are more intricate though. Pills and daily regimens are a consistent motif. Day has his daily eye-drops, Tian his pills (which are presumably immune-suppressants to help accept the transplant but I'm not going to Viki right now and watching every ep to find out so someone feel free to correct me). 'But people take medicine for lots of things,' you say. 'Just because its gay doesn't mean its an HIV metaphor!' You have a fair point! But here's where Aof gets real fun and sneaky. P'Med dies from lack of pills the same year Torfun, whose heart will save Tian's life, is born, 1997. I'm mentioned once before 1997 as important for the class-conscious Aof because of the Asian financial crisis that Thailand set off that year. However, 1997 is also important because its the year HAART, or Highly Active Anti-Retroviral Therapy was first used in Thailand (it had hit the market only one year earlier). HAART, a multi-drug regimen, boosted someone's life-expectancy with HIV up by 15 years, and its side-effects were significantly milder than previous approaches. The medical conditions of P'Med and Torfun's heart point us directly to HAART, and what it could offer.

Now we're moving out of the medical and into the experiential connections because, while Dark Blue Kiss is the only work Aof chose to take credit for screen-writing without incorporating medical references, it is by far the most dense with references to the issue of concealment. Its in the narrative as people closet identities and hide relationships, yes, but its in SO much of the visuals, too, most obviously the Pete & Kao mug hidden inside its coozie. It's easy to see the surface story about gay visibility and the closet, but there's a more specific subtext here about the associated condition that intensified the stigma of being gay and how that impacts your sense of self. Bad Buddy explores this issue less, but even in the BL Bubble, its haunted by the stigma of homophobia--it just shuffles it over onto rivalry so the audience can experience it without reproducing it.

However, the grief and shame of surviving when others haven't haunts Aof's other works much more intensely. Jim and Tian both are hung up on guilt for someone's death that they did not actually cause, continuing to pursue the goals for those that passed rather than their own. Then, there's Thun and P'Med, which is the best allegory for living and dating with HIV, bar none. It goes into the feelings of stigma and the limits of physical intimacy with partners that living with HIV caused, especially prior to Truvada's introduction in 2004. Even then, the show depicts how a HIV negative partner maintains the choice to participate in their own regimens, as Thun's desires for physical intimacy with P'Med manage their relationship and never the other way around.

This sense of required separation and gay identities that are less sex-focused also play into oft-maligned motifs in Aof's work. He's talked explicitly about people's criticisms of the limited physical intimacy in his earlier works that led to the more prominent stuff in Bad Buddy, but I hope given the above context, we can appreciate why physical intimacy is less of a priority than other kinds (and I'd add that 1000 Stars, which got the most sh*t about it, is actually one of the most erotically-charged BLs out there because of it's restraint). Then, you have the finales where characters separate for periods of time, and while I don't see this as explicitly tied to HIV experiences (Aof is literally following the book of romcom beats there, even if everyone whines about it), I can't help but appreciate a tangential connection to loving beyond time and distance that was required for those who lived with or lost loved ones to HIV.

I would've loved to see a version of Last Twilight that didn't absolutely bungle its metaphor, because it had every element to be something great (except, I'm sorry to the fans, lead actors with the necessary queer romantic chemistry). Watching the last episode, when the show seemed to finally rediscover plot and pacing, all the other pieces that had been drowned out by the disability conversation peeked their heads out, and I saw what the show wanted to be. The topics related to living with HIV of stigma, survivor's guilt, and assistive technologies: they were all right there, not just for Day but for everyone, if only they had been given the proper time to marinate to develop more complexity. It's the rare instance of a show where I'll choose to spend time imagining what could have been rather than obsessing over what was or just moving on. Even a misstep from Aof, like this, is overflowing with so many more layers than most series. The failures of Last Twilight, in relationship to his other works, even let you see how much food for thought he's providing.

[matty-bear]

“But I’m Not Yours.” [M.S] 

Type: fic! 

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: sfw, angst 

summary: You realize you have developed very strong feelings for Matt but you never expect the pain and heartbreak that would come with it. 

notes: based on what i’m going through right now with a crush/friend I’ve had since September 🔥 I made a playlist to try to cope with my feelings for him earlier and it’s nearly 10 hours long 😭 I need serious help guys… Anyways, hope you enjoy reading this! :D

WC: 3725

.・.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I’m somebody you call when you’re alone 

I’m somebody you use, but never own 

You and Matt have been attached to the hip ever since y’all met in high school. You were very lucky to become friends with the boy considering how he skipped the majority of school due to his anxiety. When he did come, you tried your best to keep him grounded when his anxiety got too overwhelming for him and prevented him from partaking in anything. 

At the beginning of y’all’s friendship, you were both very affectionate with each other and it wasn’t unusual for someone to see the two of you hugging or clinging onto one another. The two of you found so much comfort in each other in such a short amount of time so all of this came very naturally and quickly for y’all. 

Around a year into your friendship, you realized something that would soon become an issue after getting rejected by a crush. The day you got turned down, you texted Matt telling him what happened the moment you got home. As he was comforting you and giving you advice, one thing that he said stuck to you.

“I feel like it’s a lot easier to have a crush on your friend. You won’t have to worry about befriending your crush since you already know them!”

Matt’s words replayed over and over in your head for the next few days. And the more you thought about what he said, you soon came to the realization that you had a crush on him. The moment you realized, it all became so clear to you. How could you ignore the multiple signs that were in front of your face? 

Every time y’all hung out together, you felt extra giddy inside and when you looked at each other, your heart beat so loudly in your chest that you were surprised it didn’t jump out of your skin. Not to mention how nervous you got when you caught him looking at you! Another factor that played into you liking the boy was how much he genuinely cared for you. He was one of the only few people that really understood you and was constantly there for you. You’ve opened up to him about so many things and he’s remembered all of it.

And when I mean all of it, I mean all of it. 

He remembered every little detail about you and it made you so happy that someone actually cared. How could you not like a boy like Matt? Sure he was very attractive, but he has such amazing qualities that make him a great person to be around. You enjoyed every little moment you had with him. Even if it was a short conversation that the two of you had during passing period at school, you cherished every single moment you had with him. 

When you came to terms with your feelings, you found yourself falling for him. And you fell hard. Nick would even say that you were “whipped for him.” (Which wasn’t far from the truth. The boy had you wrapped around his finger without even knowing it himself.) The more y’all hung out, the more your feelings grew and you soon couldn’t take it anymore. After about a month and a half of discovering your feelings for Matt, you confessed to him. You were an anxious and shaking wreck when you opened up to him. 

You feared that he wouldn’t feel the same and possibly cut off your friendship. And you couldn’t bear losing Matt over some stupid feelings that you couldn’t control. But after you confessed and heard Matt say “Y/N, I like you too” and the boy proceeded to go into his own little confession where he gushed about you, you felt like you were over the moon. 

However, due to some of his relationship trauma, the boy wasn’t very keen on getting into a relationship with you at the moment. He was still healing from an old relationship from about two years ago that left him heavily scarred. He told you that he would absolutely love to be in a relationship with you but not at the moment since he needed to heal. So, like any good person would, you heard him out and agreed to put a hold on getting together. 

Ever since you two confessed to each other, the physical touch increased significantly. There was more hugging and y’all even started holding hands secretly in class since neither of you were big fans of PDA. Matt would even write you notes on small stickys telling you how much he loved and appreciated you. It always made your heart flutter when you read those notes and you always kept them in a notebook along with other small things he wrote for you. 

As y’all’s feelings for each other grew, you both got more open in terms of relationships. As in calling each other subtle pet names like ‘Love’ or telling each other what you’d want in a relationship. Every time you told Matt about what you’d want to do with a guy, he always told you that he’d be willing to complete your wishes. This always made you so happy because he actually wanted to make you happy when y’all got together. 

However as weeks passed, you noticed Matt started to get distant and less affectionate. 

There was no more hand holding, notes, hugs, and your goodnight messages were getting left on seen or delivered. He even asked you to stop with the pet names, which you obviously did because you didn’t wanna make him uncomfortable. All of this made you very upset because he was all over you one moment and really distant the next. You were very confused and hurt. 

So you decided to text him. 

When you messaged him confronting him on why he’s been getting distant, you felt your entire world crumble to your feet when he told you that he no longer had feelings for you and the entire time it was just mutual feelings. He went on and said that he apologizes and that his past relationship is getting him confused on being able to differentiate between crushes and a strong friendship. Feeling very hurt and upset, you told Matt that you understand and that you’d wait for him because of how strong your feelings were for him. After y’all’s conversation, you sobbed for hours. 

You thought you actually had a chance with him and went through all of that together just for him to tell you that the feelings were mutual all this time?.. 

You were absolutely crushed. 

As time passed, y’all began to grow distant and you felt that things were starting to become awkward. And this made you panic. The mere thought of you getting distant from Matt was starting to frighten you a little because you relied on him so much and he was one of the only few people you had. You opened up to him countless times about how you’ve felt and the same response that he gave you was “you’re just not talking to me as much as you used to. I try to talk to you but it’s like you’re not even trying to engage in a simple conversation with me anymore.” 

This response obviously made you feel like you were the issue and made you feel absolutely horrible. You began to think that your strong feelings for the boy were getting in the way of y’all’s friendship and you didn’t want that. So you tried your best to get rid of these feelings as best as you could just so things could go back to normal. It seemed to work for a little while but your feelings were always there, no matter how hard you tried to push them away. 

I’m somebody you touch, but never hold 

And you’re somebody I’ll never really know 

Time skip to about three months later, you and Matt are somewhat back to normal and you managed to get rid of your feelings. 

Or so you thought. 

The main thing you missed the most about yalls friendship was the physical touch. You missed his hugs; his warm, comforting hugs that never failed to keep you at bay. Matt also seemed to miss this part of y'all's friendship and agreed to take the physical touch slowly to get back into the old rhythm of things. Soon enough, you both eased back into the hugs, which you were wanting and wishing for the most. You still felt awkward engaging in them sometimes and you just didn’t know why. 

Despite you thinking that you two were back to normal, you continuously felt like you were losing him. Matt, knowing you better than anyone, immediately picked up on your off behavior and asked you how you were doing in private. It took you a minute, but you soon told him how you felt about the current situation. After the boy let you rant, he gave you nothing but sweet reassurance about how he would never leave you and that he treasured very much. This made you feel a lot better and you both shared a hug. One that felt nostalgic to you. It was warm, and very comforting and didn’t hold any awkwardness or tension. 

But as the days passed, you couldn’t help the aching feeling in your chest each time you saw him laughing with his other friends as you were left off to the side. Was it jealousy? You really didn’t know. He just seemed to want to hang out with other people besides you and he seemed a lot happier. You obviously didn’t confront him about it because you felt selfish thinking about it. Sure you hinted about the fact that he kept leaving you for other people but never told him straight up in fear that you would ruin y’all’s already rocky friendship. 

This caused you to take a rather large step back and distance yourself due to feeling that he no longer had any interest in y’all’s friendship. Him leaving you for other people multiple times was a sign of him losing interest, right? Sure, he could have other friends. You would never hold him back from that. But he kept leaving you in the dust. Despite this, you always found yourself drifting back to him. You couldn’t help but to drift back because you missed him so much. 

Every time you watched him interact and have fun with his other friends, you always had an aching feeling in your chest because that’s how you two used to be. Laughing over stupid shit and not caring about a single thing around you. You just focused on each other. 

You missed it. 

The two of you were getting distant. You knew it deep down. But the two of you always pushed the thought of it away and acted like y’all were fine. 

When it obviously wasn’t.

There was something holding yall back. 

And you knew that that something was your strong feelings for him. It had to be. It was ruining everything. 

I know I’m not the one you really love

I guess that’s why I’m never given up

You tried so hard to get rid of your feelings for Matt. And you actually thought you succeeded at some point. But when he told you about a crush that he developed on a girl, you couldn’t help but feel upset. Sure, y’all’s situation-ship happened a while ago but he seemed to have very strong feelings for this crush of his. He moved on and you were still longing for him deep down. You were very happy for the boy and gave him advice on how he should approach this crush of his because that’s what friends do but you always felt this aching in your chest afterwards. 

This feeling only worsened when he told you that he asked the girl out. It made you think back to how y’all used to be. He was so hesitant to get into a relationship with you and told you that he didn't want to get into one anytime soon but he didn’t hesitate to jump into a relationship with this girl who he only knew for about a month. It made you feel really hurt. It made you feel like he led you on. 

‘Cause I could give you all you want, the stars and the sun

But I’m, I’m not enough 

As weeks passed and you watched Matt get deeper into his relationship, you felt your heart twist and turn. You wished that was you. You thought it was going to be you in a happy relationship with him but it was clear that it wasn’t. He was all over his newly found girlfriend and hung out with her nearly every single day. When you two talked, he was always texting her and didn’t pay much attention to you despite you being right next to him. When you texted him, he always gushed about her.

It was always about her. 

You knew he was deeply in love with this girl. It was clear. And you knew you couldn’t do anything to make him change his feelings for her. As deeply as you wanted to get together with him, you didn’t dare to get between his relationship. What kind of person would you be if you did? A horrible one that’s what. And you didn’t want that.

So you stood by the side, watching him be happy with his girlfriend. You never told Matt that you still had feelings for him. Why would you bother? He would immediately reject you. You tried to find new crushes but each time you drifted back to him. Even though you genuinely thought you were deep in a crush with someone else, your heart prevented you from doing anything with them because it knew you were still not over Matt. 

You missed him. He was so caught up with his girlfriend that he started talking to you less. Yes, he did text you here and there but it was mainly about his girlfriend. You didn’t say anything about it because he was actually talking to you. And you took everything that you could get because you missed him. 

All I really wanted was that look in your eyes

Like you already know that I’m the love of your life

As much as you missed y’all’s friendship, you missed the intimate moments the most. As much as you tried to ignore the fact, you knew you did. You missed how he looked at you as if you were the love of his life. You missed the love-sick notes he wrote you every day. Hell, you still had them in your notebook! You couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of them. As much as it hurt you each time you flipped to the page, you didn’t have it in you to throw it all away. It reminded you of what y’all had. And you missed what y’all had. You missed the subtle hand holding, the back hugs during class, the small gifts y’all gave each other, the late night calls where you often fell asleep with each other on FaceTime. You missed everything y’all did. 

Like you already know you’re never sayin’ goodbye 

But I’m not yours 

Matt would never know the things you would do for him. Hell, you would do anything and everything for him. Everytime he asked you to do him a favor, you didn’t hesitate to do it for him. You dropped everything for him. Which sounds very unhealthy but you couldn’t help it. You missed him and loved him. You were whipped. You were wrapped around his pinkie finger. 

And he was oblivious about all of it. 

You wanted all of it back. You wanted to be all over him and be able to gush about him openly. And you missed how he would gush about you as well and how he seemed so obsessed with you. However you knew you would never get it back because he was so in love with someone else. 

You clinged and held onto every moment y’all had with each other. Even if y'all were simply standing next to each other, you cherished it. At least you were with him. At least you saw him. It made you feel desperate but you just missed him. You tried so hard to try to spark up a conversation but your stupid feelings just made you feel awkward. 

You had no idea what to do and you blamed it on your undeniable feelings for the boy. Your heart prevented you from acting like how you usually would with him and you didn’t know how to fix it. 

I want more, I want more

But I’m not yours 

All you wanted was to get together with him. Yes, you did miss how y’all’s friendship used to be but all you really wanted was to be happy with him. That's what your heart longed for. To show him how madly in love you were with him. But you couldn’t because he was dating someone else and had no plans on breaking up with his girlfriend. You knew how happy he was with her. She always boosted his mood when he was down (You used to boost his mood when he was down.) and just made him so happy in general. She was the perfect girlfriend for him. She never hesitated to show her love for him or post him on her story. They were practically made for each other and everyone knew it. You had to admit you were a little jealous. I mean, how could you not be? You were watching the love of your life be happy with someone else. 

And I can’t change your mind

But you’re still mine

As much as you tried to discard your feelings, they never went away. You tried everything in the book; giving him icks, distancing yourself, picturing him doing embarrassing things, you tried everything and none of it worked. Your feelings were going to permanently stick with you and you had no choice but to accept it. 

Eventually you did accept it and just allowed your feelings to swallow you whole. Which was a very horrible mistake on your part because the urge to be as affectionate as possible and urge to gush over the boy grew stronger. You wanted to tell him how you felt about him so badly but you knew that it would ruin everything and cause him to drift even farther away from you. 

Matt was the number one person in your heart. The boy that you cared the most about. Your favorite person. You would do anything for him. But you knew that he didn't feel the same about you. You probably weren't even on the list of people he cared for. You were most like an extra in his life. A person who he doesn't speak much to unless it was necessary. (Or if he wanted to talk about his girlfriend) You were perfectly fine with being an extra. (You really weren't deep down.) As long as he was still in your life, you were happy.

I should’ve known that it was dumb love 

15 dozen roses 

All the things that I’ve done for you not to notice 

The reason why this whole situation hurt so badly was because Matt was your first genuine crush. You did have quite a few crushes and even dated a few people in grade school but the outcome never turned out well. Two years prior to your realizing that you had feelings for Matt, you were in a relationship that you had to end yourself because you were highly uncomfortable and didn't want to lead the person on. (Ending it was very difficult for you because you never initiated the break ups. The person you were with usually did.)

Matt was your first love. People say first loves hurt the most because it's the first experience of a deep emotional connection with someone. Some people are lucky to have a successful first love where they get married and even potentially have a family, but the vast majority experience severe heartbreak. And that's exactly what you were going through. And you continued to allow yourself to get hurt by the boy because you couldn't bear to lose him. He was just too important to you. 

Can’t believe I chose you over all my best friends 

What the fuck did I do?

In the end? 

You were willing to give up anyone and everyone for him. If he told you to drop someone because they weren’t “good enough for you,” you would do it in a heartbeat. He knows you better than everyone else so he had to be right! Right? And he wouldn’t lie like that to you either right?

…right? 

You would choose Matt over anyone. All your friends knew you favorited him. (They also continuously told you how unhealthy this situation had become) They knew how head over heels you were for him. Hell, they often brought up his name randomly in a conversation that you weren’t a part of just to see how quickly you would turn around. They found it funny how much you loved him. 

But you didn’t find it funny whatsoever because he was causing you so much pain. 

And he didn’t know it. 

And he never will. 

Just to not be yours 

As you continued to hold onto the few remaining threads of y’all’s relationship, you watched him be happy with his girlfriend. You watched and wished that it was you and wished that you could be happy with him. 

To this day, you still struggle with your feelings. You kept going into denial about them but they always hit you with full force when you thought you finally got rid of them. 

You will continue to wait for him. For however long it takes. Even if you have to watch him get into a hundred more relationships, you will continue to stay by his side; waiting for when you have a chance to finally capture his heart like he did to yours. 

But for now, you will continue to watch on the sidelines and wait. 

[virgoilluminati]

A Match Made in England

Episode 1: Just two kids from england; the ups and downs of football...

A/N: This got put as mature (i have no idea why hahah) so I've re-uploaded it to make sure it's appropriate.

Series Masterlist | Next part

Episode 1

Settling into the inviting cushions, you became a tableau of spring comfort. The distant hum of a camera being activated blended seamlessly with the rustling leaves outdoors. Levi, the seasoned producer with a knack for drawing out personal narratives, sat across from you. His demeanor was calm yet engaging, a reassuring presence amid the studio's buzzing equipment.

"Okay, where to begin..." you mused aloud.

Levi nodded thoughtfully. "What about signing for England?"

The scene transitions to a bustling pressroom years earlier, where a 17-year-old you, with long, flowing hair cascading down your back, sat nervously next to Sarina Weigman after being signed to the England national team.

Reporters leaned forward eagerly, their cameras clicking and pens poised.

One interviewer asked, "Y/N, you're the youngest Lioness to join the senior team. Do you feel the weight of expectations?"

With a shy smile, your long hair framing your face, you responded, "Honestly, it's an honor to be here. I'm just going to give my best and learn from these incredible players and coaches."

Another reporter chimed in, "Y/N, what do you think you bring to the team at such a young age?"

You took a moment, glancing at Sarina for reassurance. "I think I bring a fresh perspective and a lot of energy. I know I have a lot to learn, but I'm eager to soak up as much as I can from my teammates and coaches. Being young means I have time to grow and improve."

The flashback showed you nervously twiddling your fingers as more questions came your way.

"Do you feel any pressure considering your brother's legacy in football?" one reporter asked, the question hanging heavily in the air.

Your smile faltered for a brief second before you composed yourself. "Of course, there's always pressure when you're following in the footsteps of someone successful. But I'm here to make my own mark and contribute to the team in my own way."

Cutting to a childhood flashback, you and your older brother Noah were seen playing football in the backyard, his encouraging voice guiding your early steps in the sport.

Back in the present, you ran your fingers through your now slightly shorter hair, reflecting on that moment with Levi."

"I probably would've lied back then and said I had nothing to prove. At the time, I truly hated people who asked me about my age," you laughed. "I hated people knowing I was so much younger than everyone else, you know. I guess I felt belittled and also very undermined."

Levi looked intrigued. "How come?"

You sighed, thinking back. "I don't know, when I look back on it now, l'm like damn, you know. I was just a kid. The amount of pressure I was under—"

The little screen continued to display snippets of that press conference, overlaying the commentary, "Y/N Morrison, only 17 when she first started playing for England. Now, at 19, she stands as the youngest player in the senior squad."

Levi leaned forward with genuine curiosity. "Can you tell us more about Noah? How did he influence your journey in football?"

Another childhood flashback played out, this time of you and Noah practicing together, his supportive presence shaping your early skills and love for the game.

Levi continued, his voice gentle and probing. "Do you think some of that pressure came from your brother and the legacy he left behind?"

An awkward pause hung in the air before you let out a light laugh, breaking the tension. "Uh, yeah. Haha- I don't think being the sister of an already well-known Morrison did me any favors, no."

As the crew members bustled around, adjusting cameras and discussing logistics for the next segment, you took a moment to collect yourself, reflecting on the profound journey you had just shared and preparing to continue with the interview.

The screen seamlessly transitioned into a poignant montage. One particular video clip unveiled a pivotal moment in your shared narrative. It was a chilly evening at a local pitch, where a younger you, barely a teenager, kicked the ball around with a sense of determination mirrored in Noah's watchful gaze. This seemingly ordinary moment turned out to be a precursor to the journey that awaited you.

The video shifted to a rainy afternoon at a school tournament, where Noah, now a mentor as well as a brother, stood on the sidelines cheering your every move.

The camera caught a glimpse of Noah sharing insights and encouragement, laving the foundation for a dvnamic that encouragement, laying the foundation for a dynamic that extended beyond sibling ties.

As the montage continued, it unfolded a series of snapshots: Noah consoling you after a tough loss, the two celebrating victories with infectious joy, and the subtle exchange of nods and smiles that spoke of an unspoken understanding. Your story went beyond the spotlight, a tale of shared passion, shared defeats, and the unwavering support that siblings uniquely understand. Y/N Morrison, shaped by the echoes of Noah's footsteps, began to carve her own narrative in the beautiful game.

The scenes shifted to a day of reckoning, the moment you received your call-up to the national team. Noah, now a seasoned player, embraced you in a tight hug, the pride in his eyes telling a story of shared dreams realized. And then, the turning point. Y/N Morrison, amidst her brother's legacy, emerged as a rising star in her own right. The torch passed not just through genes but through a bond forged on countless pitches, a bond that shaped you into the player you are today.

In a touching moment, the montage included a clip where, as soon as a match ended, Noah handed his sweat-soaked shirt to you—a symbolic gesture of support and shared triumphs.

As the montage concluded, the screen faded back to the interview room, where your reflective gaze spoke volumes.

Levi, now deeply moved by the narrative that had unfolded, adjusted his notes and looked at you with a newfound respect for your journey.

The interviewer, acknowledging the depth of your shared journey, posed one final question.

Interviewer: "Looking back now, how do you see your role within the legacy you and Noah have created in the football world?"

You, with a thoughtful smile: "I see it as a story still unfolding. Noah laid the foundation, and now I'm building upon it. lum-"

Levi nodded approvingly, allowing the weight of your words to resonate in the room. However, the interview had ventured into personal territory, and you couldn't shake off the vulnerability that surfaced with the last question.

Emily, noticing your unease, interjected gently, "Why don't we take five, everyone? Y/N, take your time. We can continue whenever you're ready."

You nodded gratefully, feeling a mix of emotions after reliving such intimate moments of your journey.

You walked off the set, feeling a whirlwind of emotions after the intense interview. Emily followed closely behind, her pace matching your thoughtful stride.

"Did I do okay?" You asked with a hint of uncertainty. "I stumbled at the end—"

"You did great, Y/N! Don't worry," Emily reassured her with a warm smile. "These guys can be quite intense, don't worry I'm sure Jude is in Madrid right now, getting the same level of interrogation. Why don't you wait here—" She gestured towards the makeshift living room that had been set up in one of the spare rooms. "I'll call you back in ten?"

You nodded gratefully, finding comfort in Emily's words. You entered the cozy room, furnished with plush cushions and soft lighting, and sat down on the comfortable sofa. The room exuded a sense of calm, a stark contrast to the a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the studio outside.

As you waited, you pulled out your phone and began scrolling through messages. Moments later, a text from Jude popped up.

Jude: Hey there, dove! How's the hot seat treating you?

You grinned at his message, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood.

Y/N: Surviving so far! They didn't ask me about my secret dance moves yet.

Jude: Phew, dodged one there! Remember, if all else fails, just dazzle them with your best dance move.

You chuckled softly, enjoying your playful banter despite the distance between them. You felt a surge of warmth and affection for Jude, grateful for his ability to make you smile even in challenging moments.

Your messages continued, Jude teasing you about his own interviews and you responding with playful comebacks.

Jude: Hey, have you thought any more about Madrid?

You hesitated, your heart sinking as you read his message.

You took a deep breath before responding.

Y/N: Jude, please. I can't have this conversation again.

Jude: It's been six months, Y/N. First it was the press mania, then it was your sister's baby, now it's this TV show. When are we going to talk about it?

Your fingers hovered over the screen, conflicted emotions swirling inside you.

Y/N: My answer hasn't changed, Jude. I love you, but I love my life here too. Things are finally starting to settle down, and—

Jude: No, they're not. You're lethargic, you're sitting out almost every game now, you're always not sleeping-

Your heart raced, tears welling up in your eyes. You couldn't bear to have this argument again.

Y/N: I've been helping my sister, Jude.

Jude: But it's not just that, is it? Your barely eating, your constantly distracting yourself with work. You need to take a break.

You felt a pang of guilt. You knew Jude was right, but you weren't ready to face that reality.

Y/N: Jude, I can't have this row again.

Jude: Y/N, I'm trying to be there for you, but you won't let me in!

You closed her eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks as she struggled to find the right words. Your eyes scroll along judes words once more, lethagic, trouble sleeping, weak fitness, trouble eating...

He was right of course. Ever since the end of the world cup, you had become incredibly tired, with limited energy for the basics of tasks. You had made excuses that it was the press interviews, the constant ware and tare of family life and fame, or even sometimes just thinking you weren't getting enough hours. Deep down, you knew it was something more.

As much as you would regret it, there was a part of you that wished it was a ACL injury, something that yes would take time to heal, but could be cured. Atleast you'd know what was wrong with you. Instead whatever kept you up at night, made it difficult to keep down food and made it impossible to stay on top in football games, was tearing both you and your relationship with Jude apart

Setting your phone down on the sofa, you walked over to the kitchenette area to pour herself a glass of water. As you stood there, contemplating your next move, you felt a sudden pang in her abdomen—a sharp cramp that caught you off guard.

You winced, clutching your stomach as you leaned against the counter. It wasn't the first time you'd felt this way lately, but it was a stark reminder of your ongoing health struggles.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, you returned to the sofa and picked up your phone. With a determined expression, she typed out a message to Jude.

Y/N: Good luck with your match tonight. See you monday

Jude sat in a cozy room tucked away within the Real Madrid training grounds, the distant echoes of his teammates preparing for their final training session before the upcoming match seeping through the slightly ajar door. His phone buzzed incessantly with messages from you. With a faint sigh, he retrieved it from his pocket and read your latest text:

"Good luck with your match tonight. See you Monday x." His jaw tightened in frustration; you had once again changed the subject, avoiding the difficult conversation he knew you were reluctant to have.

"Jude, you still with us?" Romeo's voice cut through his reverie. Jude blinked, refocusing on the Spanish producer seated across from him. "Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry about that." He slipped his phone back into his pocket, mentally shifting gears to engage in the interview.

Romeo chuckled knowingly. "No worries. Let's continue.

Your journey in football-from your early days in Birmingham to now playing for Real Madrid-has been remarkable. How do you reflect on your career so far?"Jude nodded thoughtfully, a flicker of nostalgia in his eyes.

"It's been a whirlwind, mate. Starting out at Birmingham City as a young lad, then moving to Dortmund, and finally landing here at Madrid-it's been nothing short of a dream come true. Each step has taught me invaluable lessons, both on and off the pitch."

Leaning forward with interest, Romeo probed further."You've undoubtedly faced numerous challenges along the way. What would you consider the biggest challenge of your career?"

Jude grinned wryly, his mind drifting momentarily to thoughts of you. "Well, besides dodging defenders on the pitch, adapting to different leagues and cultures has been quite the challenge. Each club has its own unique style and expectations. But hey, I thrive on challenges; they've helped me evolve as both a player and a person."

Romeo's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "And what about the immense pressure of playing for a club as prestigious as Real Madrid? How do you manage that?"

A faint smile tugged at Jude's lips as he thought of his experiences. "Oh, you know, I just pretend I'm still kickin' it back in Brum with me mates. Nah, seriously though, the pressure is immense, but it's also an incredible privilege. Playing for Real Madrid demands peak performance every day. I rely on my training regimen, the banter with my teammates, and saying focused on my goals."

Romeo chuckled at Jude's casual demeanor. "Looking ahead, what are your personal and professional aspirations for the future?"

Jude leaned back, considering. "Well, professionally, I want to keep raising the bar, winning titles with Real Madrid, and maybe snaggin' a few Player of the Year awards along the way. But personally, I want to be there for the people who matter most to me, supporting 'em in every way I can."

Picking up on the personal note, Romeo inquired further.

"Family and relationships seem pivotal in your life. How do you manage to balance the demands of your career with your personal commitments?"

Jude's expression softened with a genuine warmth as he thought of you. "Ah, it's a juggle, mate. But having a strong support system makes all the difference. My family, friends, and my girlfriend-they keep me grounded. Despite the challenges and the distances, we find ways to make it work."

Romeo nodded, impressed by Jude's candid responses.

"Thank you for sharing your journey with us, Jude. It's been a pleasure."

"Cheers, Romeo," Jude replied warmly, though his thoughts were still partly occupied by concerns for you. As the interview concluded, he couldn't shake off the growing determination to support you, despite your stubbornness. It reminded him of the first time he had got sick, a couple weeks after they had moved into your family home.

Jude lay in bed, feeling utterly miserable. His head throbbed, his throat felt like sandpaper, and every muscle ached. He had caught a nasty bug, and it was knocking him down hard. Despite his condition, he had a match later that day, and he knew he had to rally.

You, always the caretaker, had spent the entire morning fussing over him, bringing him tea and making sure he took his medication. You were a natural nurse, your concern evident in the way you flitted around the room, fetching blankets and adjusting pillows.

"You really don't have to stay," Jude protested weakly, though secretly grateful for your presence.

You chuckled softly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. "Of course I do. Who else is going to make sure you don't forget to take your medicine?"

Jude managed a weak smile, reaching out to grasp your hand. "You're too good to me, you know that?"

"Just rest," you insisted, squeezing his hand gently before heading out to run some errands.

The next morning, Jude woke up feeling marginally better but was still under the weather. You, on the other hand, woke up feeling awful. Your head pounded, your nose was stuffed, and you felt like you hadn't slept at all. Despite feeling under the weather, you stubbornly insisted on going about your day as usual. You had meetings to attend and training sessions to oversee-there was no time to be sick.

Jude watched you with increasing concern as you hurried around the apartment, trying to ignore your symptoms.

"Y/N, maybe you should stay home today," he suggested again, his voice laced with worry. "You look like you could use some rest."

You waved off his concern with a weak smile. "I'll be fine, Jude. It's just a cold. I can't afford to miss work today."

Jude sat up in bed, his expression earnest. "I know you're tough, but pushing yourself when you're sick won't do you any favors. Let me take care of you for a change."

You paused, torn between your determination and Jude's heartfelt plea. You sighed, knowing he had a point but not wanting to admit defeat. "I have so much to do today, Jude. I can't just stay home."

Reluctantly, Jude nodded, knowing from experience that you were fiercely independent and determined once you set your mind to something. "Okay, but promise me you'll take it easy," he said softly.

Hours later, you returned home earlier than expected, your face flushed and your eyes watery. You sank onto the couch with a defeated sigh, clutching a box of tissues.

"What." You sniffle, your eyebrows frowning.

"Nothing." Jude says with a glint of a smirk.

"Stop smiling." You respond

"I'm sorry, it's just i told you so."

Jude, seeing your exhausted state, moved closer and gently took the tissues from your hands. "Why don't you let me make you dinner tonight?" he suggested, his voice tinged with concern. "You've pushed yourself enough today."

You looked up at him with a stubborn glint in your eyes, still not fully willing to concede. "That actually sounds really nice," you admitted reluctantly, finally allowing yourself to relax.

Jude smiled warmly, relieved to see you starting to unwind. "I'll take care of everything. You just rest and recover," he said softly, knowing that even in your stubbornness, you trusted him to take care of you when you needed it most.

But now, he wasn't so sure. Ever since the World Cup he had begun to see a change in you. You were absent most days, granted he was in Madrid which didn't help, but even on days when you could have dinner together, your mind was always somewhere else.

He understood the pressure of being the world champions, the demands to make public appearances, but sometimes he wished that you hadn't won. Not because you didn't deserve it, but because it was taking a huge toll on you and there was very little he could do about it.

***********

Leah glanced over at you with a raised eyebrow as you took a breather during your training session at Arsenal's practice ground. You had been noticeably tense all morning, and Leah, her teammate and close friend, couldn't help but address the elephant in the room.

"Yeah, okay, but what's up with you two at the moment?" Leah asked bluntly, wiping sweat from her brow. "You keep picking at each other like cats in a sack."

You sighed, your frustration evident as you leaned against the goalpost. "It's just... we've been on edge lately. You know how Jude can be sometimes."

Leah nodded knowingly. "He's a good guy, but he can be a bit cheeky," she remarked, recalling a recent incident.

"Remember that comment he made last week? You were fuming."

You rolled her eyes, her irritation flaring again. "Yeah, and rightfully so. Sometimes he doesn't think before he speaks."

Leah gave you a sympathetic look. "Look, I get it. But you two have been solid for ages. Maybe it's just a rough patch.

You should talk it out."

You sighed heavily, running a hand through her sweaty hair.

"I know.. it's just been one thing after another. First the media frenzy, then family stuff, now this reality show nonsense he's pushing for. It's like we're not on the same page anymore."

Leah nodded in understanding. "Relationships take work, especially with all the craziness in your lives. But you guys are strong. Don't let a few bumps get in the way."

You nodded thoughtfully, grateful for Leah's perspective.

"You're right. I'll talk to him. Thanks, Leah."

Leah flashed you a reassuring smile. "Anytime. Now, let's finish this training strong. No distractions!"

With renewed determination, you and Leah resumed their training, focusing on their drills and pushing themselves to perform at their peak. The afternoon sun beat down on the training ground, casting long shadows as you ran through your routines.

As you practiced, you couldn't shake Leah's words from your mind. You knew Leah was right-you needed to address the tension with Jude before it escalated further but as much as you wanted to clear the air, doubts nagged at you.

Leah noticed your distracted demeanor and decided to lighten the mood. "Hey, Y/N, remember that game against Chelsea last season?" she asked with a grin.

You chuckled, grateful for the diversion. "Oh, don't remind me. That was a tough one."

"Yeah, but you scored that amazing goal in the last minute!" Leah exclaimed, mimicking the commentator's excitement.

"The look on their faces was priceless."

You laughed, the tension easing slightly. "Yeah, that was a good moment."

You continued your banter, reminiscing about past matches and sharing stories from your time on the pitch. Despite the weight of your conversation earlier, you found herself enjoying the camaraderie with Leah, grateful for her support.

You and Leah resumed their training drills at Arsenal's practice ground, your focus returning to the swift exchanges and precise footwork demanded on the pitch. The air was alive with the sound of coaches' instructions and the rhythmic thud of balls being kicked.

After a particularly intense sprint, you paused, a slight grimace crossing you face as she clutched her abdomen.

Leah, noticed this, her brow furrowing with worry. You had been training together for years, and Leah had noticed your occasional bouts of discomfort over the past few months, especially since the incident during the World Cup where you collapsed briefly.

Leah slowed her pace, coming alongside you. "Hey, Y/N," she began cautiously, "perhaps what I should be asking is, whats up with you lately?"

You sigh defeatedly, indicating to the pain in your stomach. "It's cramps. "They come and go, but they've been worse lately. It's stopping me from sleeping and making it hard to eat-"

Leah's expression softened with concern. "Since the World Cup?"

You nodded, avoiding Leah's gaze for a moment. "Yeah. It started then, but I didn't think much of it at first."

Leah frowned, her mind racing with possibilities. "Have you seen a doctor?"

You hesitated, her voice quieter now. "Not yet. l've been putting it off. I don't want it to be a big deal."

Leah shook her head gently. "Ah now i understand Jude's frustration recently. Y/N, your health is important. You can't keep ignoring this."

You sighed again, your frustration evident. "I know, I know. I just... I don't want it to affect my game, you know? And with everything else going on..."

Leah nodded sympathetically. "I get it. But you can't keep pushing yourself like this. Promise me you'll see someone soon?"

You met Leah's gaze, her resolve firming. "Yeah. I promise."

********

You stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of your emerald green dress. The soft candlelight flickered around you, casting a warm glow in Jude's apartment. You had gone the extra mile tonight, not just with your appearance but also in preparing a special meal for Jude. As you heard the door open, you turned to see Jude entering the room.

"You look stunning," Jude said softly, a brief smile appearing on his face as he closed the door behind him.

"Thank you," you replied with a shy smile, feeling a mix of nerves and anticipation. "I thought we could use a quiet evening together. No cameras, no distractions just us!"

Jude nodded, his eyes lingering on you appreciatively. "It's perfect," he murmured, though his mind was still clouded with the tension between you.

You sat down to dinner, the delicious aroma filling the room as you exchanged polite conversation about work and football. Jude was keen to lighten the mood, steering the conversation towards a recent match.

"So, what did you think of our performance against Barcelona?" Jude asked, taking a sip of wine.

You smiled, grateful for the change in topic. "I thought you guys played brilliantly in the second half. That goal you scored was top-notch."

Jude grinned, a hint of pride in his voice. "Thanks. It was a tough match, but we pulled through."

As you continued discussing tactics and upcoming fixtures, Jude noticed how you winced slightly every now and then, how you seemed to sit more rigidly than usual.

"You seem a bit off tonight," Jude remarked gently, reaching across the table to take your hand. "Is everything okay?"

You hesitated, your gaze flickering away for a moment.

"Yeah, just tired from the week, I guess," you replied, forcing a smile.

Jude searched your eyes, sensing there was more you weren't saying. "You know you can talk to me, right?" he said softly. "I'm here for you."

You nodded, grateful for his understanding, but unable to voice your worries just yet. The conversation shifted back to lighter topics, but the tension lingered between you.

After you finished your meal, Jude cleared the dishes while you tidied up the table. You could feel the pain in your abdomen intensifying, a relentless throb that seemed to squeeze your insides like a vice. You tried to push through it, not wanting to spoil the evening.

Jude glanced over at you, concern etched on his face.

"Damn it, y/n" Jude's voice echoed through the kitchen, frustration and worry pouring out in a torrent. "How can we be together if you won't let me in? Do you even trust me?"

You froze, your heart sinking at the raw honesty in his words.

You knew he was right, knew you had been keeping him at arm's length out of fear and stubbornness.

"I made dinner tonight to try to change this, but we keep arguing," you retorted, your voice tinged with frustration and hurt.

"You keep doing this to yourself, y/n!" Jude's voice cracked with emotion, his frustration palpable. "Pushing yourself until you can't anymore. Why won't you let me help you?"

You looked up at him through tear-filled eyes, your face contorted with pain. "I'm sorry," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't want to ruin tonight. I just wanted one night... ONE night where it wasn't about how I was feeling. I wanted to celebrate you-."

Jude takes a sigh, loading a couple of dishes into the dishwasher before turning back over to you. "And this is surely the best way to celebrate me- being quiet and constantly wincing in pain-."

"No- !" You try to finish your sentence before the pain pulls you down, you stabilise yourself on the edge of the table, dropping a fork on the ground. A annoyed sigh leaves your body, as you attempt to pick up the fork. Jude glances over, reminding himself, that despite how stupid you could be, he still cared about you.

Jude turned around at the sound of your stifled sob, his annoyance quickly giving way to concern as he saw you doubled over in agony. Without a word, he crossed the kitchen in quick strides, his heart pounding with worry.

As he glances over, he see's your weak body, attempting to keep you from falling down. Jude's expression softened, guilt washing over him as he realised how much you had been hiding from him. As he saw your body give way, he closed the distance between you, gently taking your arm to support you.

"Hospital. Now," Jude said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You nodded weakly, clutching his hand tightly as you hurried out the door, the weight of your unspoken fears finally giving way to a shared resolve to confront whatever lay ahead.

[haikyuubby]

Hello! I hope ur having a great day/night! I would like to request a Obanai x fem reader, and the reader gets jealous and insecure of mitsuri since Obanai always seems to prefer her over reader. Reader and Obanai are dating, and reader feels like she isn’t good enough. Angst to fluff please! Sry if it was way too specific.

Ty!!!<33

great request! i appreciate it :)

jealousy, jealousy ; 𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

❆ , ❀ - 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 , 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥!

you loved your boyfriend, obanai. you’d do anything for him, but you felt that he wouldn’t do the same for you.

you always noticed how much he hung out with mitsuri. they were both hashira, so it’s understandable. eventually though, you started to get jealous. you realized that he was hanging out with her more than you.

what really did it for you though, is when he canceled plans with you to hang out with mitsuri.

“Obanai, are you serious right now? We’ve had these plans for two weeks! I’ve waited and waited until you had a day off to spend some quality time with you!” you yelled, tired of him.

“I know, but Mitsuri-“

“Mitsuri this, Mitsuri that. God, you never shut up about that girl. I’m starting to think that you have a crush on her!”

“…What?” he sounds genuinely confused, but you were too angry to even hear him out.

“Don’t go playing dumb, you always hang out with her! It’s like your mind has shifted completely from me to her. Incase you forgot, I AM your girlfriend.” tears starts to fill your eyes, but you stand your ground.

“The only reason that we “hang out” is because we’re both in the Corps. Don’t be like that...” he says.

the tears in your eyes are begging to fall, but you quickly wipe them away.

“…and I’m one of the only people that waits for her to finish eating her meals. She eats a lot, we both know that. That’s the only time that we hang out, and I wait out of respect.” he admits.

“Still, that doesn’t explain why you’re canceling our plans now! Am I not good enough for you or something?!” you say, letting all the tears fall.

obanai walks up to you and grabs your hand.

“Y/n. Look at me.” he says while gently grabbing your face.

“You’re more than enough for me. I didn’t think you cared if I canceled our plans because you’ve seemed distant lately. Is that why?” he asks.

you take a minute to process what he said, before responding.

“That’s exactly why. She’s so beautiful too and cool-“

“Stop. I think you’re beautiful. You’re the only woman I see like that. You should’ve came to me sooner about all this.” he says.

“I will make more time for you, y/n. I’m sorry.” he says while holding your hand.

“I’ll accept your apology if you cancel those plans you had with her.” you say.

“I already did after you said I had a “crush” on her. Really, y/n?”

“You’re one to talk. Anytime I talk to one of your little pillar friends you always get so jealous. It’s only fair.”

“I’ll work on that, but next time,” he starts while pulling you into a hug. “come to me as soon as you feel that way, about anything or anyone.”

i hug him back with a small “Okay.” and we start to get ready for our date.

The plan was to go into town, and find a nice restaurant to eat at, then back home to spend some good quality time together. (😊)

After you two got into town and found a nice restaurant you realized that he cares for you a lot, but you were still a little upset about earlier.

“Obanai” you say.

“Hm?”

“When we get home, I think you owe me something. To make me feel better for earlier.” you innocently say.

“What do you mean?“

“I think you know exactly what I mean.”

he turns away so you knew that his face got red.

“Don’t say stuff like that to me in public, y/n…” he says, barely above a whisper.

you moved closer to him and whispered “I hope you’re not tired, Obanai.”

you loved making him flustered like this. plus, now y’all got something to look forward to in a few hours.

let’s just say that that night, you made sure that he would never crush on another woman that’s not you.

[hxney-lemcn]

Is This Really Fake? — Fern Mertens x gn! reader

summary: Fern and reader fake date so Finn will stop bothering Fern. Only, it becomes a lot more real between the two behind closed doors.

tw: slightly suggestive at the end...but not really at the same time lol

a/n: Fake dating trope!!!!! Heavy inspiration from this post! Go check it out.

wc: 1.2k

Master List

“Please,” Fern pleaded. “Just until Finn gets off my back.”

I squinted at him, but his tired gaze finally convinced me.

“Fine,” I huffed. 

In reality, I was ecstatic. I’ve had the fattest crush on Fern for as long as I could remember. And although I was a bit bummed he didn’t actually ask me out, I’d take what I could get. 

It was game night at Finn and Jake’s place, and Fern’s plan was going to be set in motion. I felt nervous about what may happen tonight…

“Can you put on a smile?” Fern asked after he knocked on the door. “You look like you’re ready to dig your own grave.”

“For a matter of fact, I am,” I replied back with a fake glare. 

When the sound of feet shuffling got close, I straightened my posture, quickly grabbing Fern's hand. He jumped slightly at the contact, but we quickly both threw on smiles when Finn opened the door.

“Hey guys! Come on in,” Finn invited. When we entered, climbing up to the living room, Jake waved us over to the couch.

This isn't your regular game night. This was video game night. Since there were only two controllers, we’d pass it on to the next person each round. Fern and I sat next to each other on the couch, closer than usual that is. The entire encounter was quite awkward. Perhaps pretending to be a couple wasn’t gonna work.

“So,” Jake spoke up, a cheesy smile on his face. “What’s going on with you two?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, playing coy. I glanced over to Fern whose face had been a dark shade of green ever since I grabbed his hand earlier. 

“Yeah,” Finn added. “You two have been acting differently all night.”

“Uhm,” Fern mumbled, glancing to his side. “I mean…I guess we started dating-”

“WHAT!” Finn shouted, hands on the side of his head. “How long?”

“A week?” I asked more than stated. We went over our cover story, but being interrogated by Finn and Jake was slightly nerve wracking. 

“A week!” Finn continued to exclaim. “Why didn’t you tell us man!”

“I…uh…didn’t think it was a big deal,” Fern shrugged. 

“Calm down man,” Jake chuckled when Finn seemed like he was going to continue to explode. “We’re happy for you two. Now let's keep playing!”

The lie became more comfortable for Fern and I. An example being the new years party Marceline was holding. There were a lot of people, but Fern and I were chilling in a corner. We each held a red solo cup, his holding water and mine holding some punch. We were talking about whatever came to mind, just enjoying each other's company. 

“Yeah, and Finn totally freaked out,” Fern chuckled, leaning against the wall. 

“You two lovebirds having fun?” Marcy asked while approaching us. 

“Totally,” I grinned at her from my place next to Fern. The teasing comments from our friends had become a norm we’ve grown used to. Not helped by the fact that Fern and I hung out a ton. 

“Just a reminder,” Marcy grinned deviously. “It’s said if a couple doesn’t kiss at midnight, their bond weakens.”

I felt my face flush, and glancing at Fern revealed he was feeling the same way. Marcy only cackled as she floated away. 

“You don’t gotta kiss me,” Fern spoke up after a few seconds of awkward silence. “Just a peck is fine…”

I smiled shyly, looking down at the drink in my hands, “It’s cool. As long as you’re okay with it.”

“Y-yeah!” Fern exclaimed before clearing his throat. “I mean, yeah. I don’t care.”

A small chuckle left me at his enthusiasm, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Shuffling a bit, I found myself scooting closer to Fern, who smiled at me sheepishly. Suddenly, the entire room had people counting down.

“10!” People said in chorus. I tensed, not realizing how late it’s already gotten. 

9

I looked over to Fern whose whole face turned a slightly darker shade of green.

8

My eyes swept across the whole room, landing on Marcy and Bonnibel who were cheering loudly together.

7

Taking a deep breath, I face Fern once more.

6

We shuffled closer together. “You’re really okay with this?”

5

“Yeah,” I replied breathlessly, in awe that this was actually happening. 

4

Our faces inch closer.

3

I looked into his green eyes, afraid about how real this feels.

2

My heart twisted, hoping that this felt just as real for him.

1

Our lips connected in a light kiss. Neither one is sure how far to take it. I pushed a little more, not satisfied with just merely brushing our lips. Fern seemed to agree, as he raised a hand to rest on my arm. 

We pulled apart after a few seconds, our faces both on fire. I looked off to the side, taking a small step back. I just kissed my best friend who I was pretending to date. Did I just reveal my feelings? Does Fern know that my feelings in this relationship aren’t as fake as they’re supposed to be?

After that night, things had taken a turn for the better. We were currently hanging out, just watching a show. My head rested on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around my shoulder. We both had become accustomed to each other's touch. In fact, I felt like I couldn’t imagine a world without it. 

It was late, and my eyes kept fluttering close every so often. Fern rested his head against mine. He was so soft to lay against, not to mention warm. Like resting on freshly cut grass on a nice summer day. 

“Could…could you kiss me?” Fern asked quietly, almost like he didn’t want me to hear.

“What?” I questioned, pulling away slowly to meet his eyes. “We don’t have to pretend right now.”

“I know,” Fern replied awkwardly, not able to meet my eyes. “But…I could use one right now.”

My heart rate accelerated. Perhaps, this was real for him too. These feelings that I felt were reciprocated. I felt like mush at the fact that Fern is asking me to kiss him, not somebody else. 

“Of course,” I agreed. This was our second kiss, and it felt just as amazing, if not better than our previous one. Still a bit awkward, but it held a passion that threatened to take my breath away. His hands held my face softly as he angled his own to better match me. My fingers brushed through his hair, enjoying how soft it felt under my finger tips. 

When we pulled away, Fern still held his face close to mine. My eyes fluttered open, drinking in his flustered expression. His cheeks were a deep green, eyes half lidded, mouth open as he tried to catch his breath. 

“C-could we do that again?” I couldn’t help but ask, already missing the feeling of his lips on mine. 

“Please,” Fern begged, meeting my lips once more without missing a beat. I let out a delightful hum, he tasted slightly sweet. It felt so intoxicating, I can only hope this means we’re official now. I pushed myself closer into his figure, and he wrapped his arms around me. I pulled away to take a breath, only for Fern to chase my lips.

I let out a soft chuckle, putting my hand against his chest, “I need to breathe.”

“Do you?” Fern replied stubbornly, eyes filled with such a strong want I felt myself melting against him. 

“Kinda,” I muttered with a sly grin. I decided to snuggle up against him, laying my head in the crook of his neck, “...does this mean we’re actually dating now?”

“Yeah…I think so.”

"We better be," I grumbled.

[roe-and-memory]

doc had a dog.

long before lightning — hell, before lightning was even born — doc had a dog.

it was in the late 60s, when a man rolled through town with a box of bloodhound pups in the bed of his truck. he was selling them for cheap — purebreds, too — and he’d just so happened to need medical assistance during his short time in town.

doc was “new”, not new to being a doctor, but “new” to the town. he saw new people every day, but rarely did anyone ever come into his clinic. so, when the man strolled in after a stay in the motel across the road, just beside lizzie’s, he was excited to get some cash.

however, after he’d wrapped the mans wound and advised him on some helpful medication, was he informed that the man had no money.

doc was irritated! who wouldnt be? it cost him money for those supplies, and it would’ve been nice to know he wasn’t profiting anything..

however, he was quickly interrupted with an offer.

“i’ve seen you eyein’ those puppies out there,” the man said, “how about i give you one and come back when i get the cash? i’ll be back in no time.”

doc was sceptical, but accepted. he was surrounded by people he loved, but maybe if he brought a dog into the house, he wouldn’t feel so alone.

of course, the man never came back. quite frankly, doc forgot all about it. he fell in love with that puppy, and it took no time at all for him to become apart of the town. if anything, it made doc feel all the more closer to his fellow townsfolk, with them wanting the dog around and all.

throughout the rest of the sixties, and then the entirety of the seventies, the last one falling in 1982, there were photos that lined the town hall walls. town photos, that is, and it was of all the townsfolk over the years. in all of those photos for those years, was that dog.

in the earlier photos, doc could be seen with an ever-growing puppy at the front of the crowd, his crutches on the ground beside him as he kneeled before everyone else, hand on the dogs back and a big smile on his face. in the later pictures he was standing, yet again crutchless, but this time he had the fully grown, dopey looking bloodhound in his arms like a baby, still as happy as ever.

(if you asked doc, he’d say he was standing all on his own in those photos. if you asked flo? she’d tell you that ramone or red had their hands on his back to keep the man steady. you could even see it in some of the photos, just barely noticeable.)

there are photos in docs house too, of him with that dog. when flo wasnt running the café, she was capturing candid memories of her family, meaning she’d more often than not be running around with a camera, capturing the moments she found joy in. a lot of those took place in docs yard — whether it was the doctor playing fetch with his companion, or sitting around a campfire with that damned dog in his lap, the light of the flames being the only thing lighting up their faces as he chatted away to sheriff, or ramone, or red.. or whoever was beside him — they were captured and printed out, and doc hung them around his house with pride.

over 20 years later and there was still a collar and leash hanging by his front door. it hangs off the key hooks, taking up two slots — but doc didnt care. he never moved them.

lightning asked once. he asked about the collar and the pictures, and doc never gave him much of an answer. just a smile and a shrug.

[mylo-space]

Welcome to Your Future

Summary: After a ritual goes awry, MK finds a memory-impaired Macaque in his dojo. Macaque, confused and more than a little overwhelmed by the changes, seeks out the one person he finds most familiar in the hopes that he can get some answers. And Wukong, faced with a Macaque unburdened by their millennia of rivalry, realizes there are some pretty complicated emotions resurfacing, and he's not sure he can bury them a second time.

Completed on Ao3: 2024-06-24 Word Count: 81,428 Chapters: 11

Chapter 1: Lost Memories, Found Names >> Chapter 2

-

If MK were to have any fatal flaw at all, it would probably be that he was a tad more trusting than he should be, considering he was in a position to make a lot of very powerful enemies. On the bright side, his optimism usually convinced people not to kill him. In the year or so since receiving the Monkey King’s powers, most of the people who’d attacked him, usually for some revenge plot or another, ended up becoming allies. Some of them had even become good friends.

Others became mentors.

MK considered himself a very enthusiastic student, and Macaque was by no means a reluctant mentor, but their lessons typically weren’t very substantial. They mostly just hung out, and Macaque occasionally offered up some advice, but it was an unspoken rule that the physical training got left to Monkey King.

It wasn’t that MK didn’t trust Macaque to do some combat training with him, it just brought up a lot of memories that they’d both rather forget. That, and MK had a sneaking suspicion that he still reminded Macaque of Monkey King. Which seemed to be a pretty common problem among most of the people Monkey King used to call his friends.

So, they didn’t do much training, but Macaque was still content to call himself MK’s mentor, if only because it annoyed Monkey King to no end. And MK was content to let him, only because he knew Monkey King wasn’t actually as annoyed by it as he pretended to be.

Truthfully, neither one of them seemed to hate each other nearly as much as their bantering would suggest. MK never got an answer about it, no matter how much he asked, but he’d learned that immortals were just strange that way. They had all the time in the world to work out their issues, and refused.

He considered asking Macaque again, maybe in a slightly roundabout way. Macaque generally saw through that kind of thing, but it never stopped MK from trying. And, maybe, MK mused as he pulled up to his co-mentor’s dojo, recent events might encourage the reserved Mystic Monkey to open up.

Long shot, probably. But MK was optimistic.

MK knocked on Macaque’s door, humming a jingle he’d heard from a commercial on TV while he waited. He’d finished delivering noodles for the day, and figured it wouldn’t hurt stopping in a little earlier than usual for his ‘training’ with Macaque.

After a few moments of no answer, MK knocked again. “Hey, Macaque!” he called. “Open up, man, I know you can hear me!”

It crossed his mind briefly that maybe Macaque was just out roaming the city. MK had shown up a couple hours early, it was possible Macaque would show if he waited around long enough. Only odd thing about it was that Macaque didn’t usually just ‘roam the city’, or roam much of anywhere, for that matter. It wasn’t the first time MK had shown up early, and Macaque was always home.

“Hey, uh-” MK knocked on the door, deliberate and loud, “Macaque? You’re kinda weirding me out here, so… I’m just gonna open the door, if that’s cool.”

The door creaked as it opened, and MK was met with a poorly lit room. Not that Macaque’s dojo was particularly bright on any given day, which was sometimes a nice change from the glaring, neon city, but it was especially dim. MK tried to convince himself that it wasn’t as concerning as the fluttering in his chest insisted it was.

Pulling out his staff, MK tentatively closed the door behind him and walked through Macaque’s dojo. “Hello?” he said loudly, a reluctant shout. “You in here, Macaque?” A noise caught him off guard, a strangled gasp escaping him as he moved to press himself against the nearest wall.

He had half a mind to be embarrassed. The noise was hardly a threatening sounding thing, just the wisp of magic, a glimmer of power. It would have been nearly indiscernible anywhere else, but in Macaque’s near silent dojo, it may as well have been an explosion. It’d always been quiet at Macaque’s place, which was kind of impressive, considering it stood in the middle of a bustling city.

Fortunately, the quiet energy was familiar. After a few steadying breaths, MK recognized Macaque’s magic hovering in the air. He hadn’t quite figured out how that worked, sensing other people’s magic, but he assumed it was another weird 'Mystic Monkey’ thing that he’d have to learn. Just when he’d thought he’d gotten things down, there was always something new.

In any case, the magic was warm. Not as warm as Monkey King’s, a near constant heat buried under stone skin, embers in the aftermath of a fire, eager to relight. Macaque’s magic was a subtle warmth, a patch of grass warmed by sunlight, a heat soothed by shade and a cool breeze.

It took a moment of searching, but he traced the magic to a room near the back of Macaque’s dojo. The door was left slightly ajar, and a light spilled through the crack. “Macaque?” MK said quietly, pushing open the door. “Macaque, are you…” He trailed off at the sight of Macaque sitting in the room, cross-legged with his hands on his knees, eyes closed and face passive.

MK, thinking perhaps Macaque was just meditating, knocked on the open door to get his attention. It almost looked like Monkey King’s transcendental meditation, but the magic around him looked different. Macaque didn’t glow like Monkey King had, there was just a steady swirl of soft blue around his head, two streams of magic that flowed in steady circles around his ears.

When knocking didn’t snap Macaque out of whatever was happening, MK walked into the room. “What kind of meditation is this?” he asked aloud, not bothering to wait for an answer as he gingerly poked Macaque’s arm with his staff. “Hey, Macaque,” he sang quietly, as though trying to wake a child from their nap. “Wakey, wakey.”

Macaque’s tail flicked, which MK took as a good sign, and moved to shake his shoulder. The magic stuttered, the flow breaking apart a bit, and Macaque’s face scrunched in discomfort.

“Macaque?” MK took a step back as the magic began to flicker, expanding and contracting erratically. It crackled, until the steady streams were jagged bolts of energy. “Macaque!” MK tried, abandoning the staff to grab Macaque by both shoulders and shake him.

The magic around Macaque didn’t feel threatening, but the whispers hadn’t seemed so dangerous, either, until the Lady Bone Demon had overtaken some of the strongest fighters he knew. She’d stolen away his mentor and his best friend, shards of ice wreaking havoc in the city, destroying the world. And even Azure had seemed harmless, until he wasn’t, until he’d revealed his true intentions, until he’d almost dissolved the universe to achieve his goals, so maybe MK had been wrong to assume that the magic surrounding Macaque was innocuous.

“Macaque!” MK demanded. He had been certain Macaque was past trying to hurt him to get to Monkey King, things had been relatively peaceful for a few months, but now there was frostbite in his ears and shadows on the walls, and his heart raced with the possibility that maybe Macaque’s need for a fight hadn’t been satiated, after all. ”Wake up!”

At that, Macaque’s eyes snapped open, inhaling sharply as though pulled from underwater. MK had just a breath to be relieved, until he saw Macaque’s violet irises. The magic turned one vicious circle around the shadow before surging outward, a ring of energy knocking MK back into the wall behind him.

MK scrabbled to grab his staff and staggered to his feet on unsteady legs, his vision blurred from the impact. He blinked against light that surrounded Macaque, watching warily until it faded. “Okay,” he breathed, “this is probably fine, uh-” He cleared his throat, his gaze finally focusing on the crumpled form of Macaque. “Are you okay? Macaque?”

All Macaque gave in response was a groan, pushing himself up off the ground and shaking his head. Purple wisps dissipated as he stood, looking just as unsteady as MK. “What’s happening?” he finally managed, turning to MK with confusion etched into his features. “How did you…” His gaze drifted to MK’s staff, “Why do you have-”

“Macaque?” MK said slowly, “Is everything okay? We were- we had training today, remember?”

“Training?” Macaque asked, looking bewildered, which was not an expression MK was used to seeing. “Kid, I don’t even… who are you?”

MK blanched at that. “Who- what the donk are you talking about?” he asked. “Is this a joke?” He lowered the staff to the ground, setting his free hand disapprovingly on his hip. “We need to work on your sense of humor, man. I’m fine with you scheming and pulling pranks and- you know, being a general menace, but giving me a heart attack does not give off the ‘cool mentor’ vibes you think it does.”

Macaque blinked at MK like he’d spoken a different language. “Okay, well… that didn’t make any sense,” he said. “So, I’m gonna ask this again,” he lifted his hands placatingly, “and I need you to stick with me on this.” His gaze flicked around the room. “Who are you, and–while I’m asking questions–where am I?” Eyes narrowing on the staff, Macaque added, “And, uh… how did you get that?”

Uneasiness settled in MK’s chest at the questions. Macaque’s voice lacked the playful lilt it usually had when he teased MK, and the confusion on his face was so genuine, so much more vulnerable than the shadow would allow under normal circumstances. “You’re freaking me out,” MK said.

“I’m standing in a room I’ve never seen before with a kid I’ve never met,” Macaque replied shortly. “Not to mention you’re holding a staff that doesn’t belong to you.” MK flinched back at the clipped tone, and Macaque seemed to realize how sharp his voice was, because he took a step back, face softening. “Look, I- you seem like a nice kid, and I don’t want to hurt you if I don’t have to.” He gestured to the staff. “But I need to know why you have that.”

MK hesitated for a moment. “I’m… okay, let’s start over.” He shrank the staff and tucked it away, startling Macaque, as though he hadn’t expected MK to actually be able to wield the weapon. “My name is MK,” he started. “I’m the Monkey King’s successor, and I-”

“Successor?” Macaque interrupted incredulously.

“Uh… well, that’s- that is what I said, yeah.”

Macaque let out a startled laugh. “How long has Wukong had a student? He should have told me that he was-” His smile faltered. “He should’ve… he would have told me if he had a student.” He studied MK carefully. “And your clothes look strange.”

Looking down in surprise, MK tugged at his jacket, inspecting the white shirt underneath. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“What was I doing when you came in?”

MK turned to check the back of his jacket. “No, seriously, what’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Hey, kiddo,” Macaque insisted, “I really need you to focus, okay?”

“Right!” MK straightened, nodding quickly. “Right, sorry, totally focused. What’s the question? Hit me with it.” Macaque opened his mouth to answer, just as it occurred to MK that he’d already asked the question. “Oh, yeah! So, uh- I don’t really know what you were doing in here?” he said. “Some kind of magic ritual thingie, maybe. It kinda looked like you were meditating?”

Macaque frowned. “Meditating?” He gestured to the sides of his head. “There wasn’t any magic going on up here, was there?”

“There was, yeah,” MK told him. “I didn’t know what was happening, and I panicked, so I just…” he shrugged helplessly, “I tried to wake you up.” Dread pooled in his stomach, hoping that his decision hadn’t just irreversibly messed something up. “Why? Was that- is that bad? Did I do a bad?”

Inhaling sharply through his teeth, Macaque replied, “Maybe? I don’t know, honestly, I just… well, I’ve never had this problem before.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, Wukong is going to kill me when he finds out.”

MK scowled. “That’s not funny, dude.”

His reprimand was met with a confused tilt of Macaque’s head. “What isn’t?” His focus flitted away before MK could answer, looking around the room curiously. “Wait, where are we again?”

“This is your place,” MK replied. “Well, it’s a room in your place.” He waved for Macaque to follow him. “Come on, maybe seeing your stuff will, uh… I don’t know, jog your memory or something.” Macaque cautiously followed him out of the room and into the dim dojo. “Forgot how dark it was in here, one second,” he moved to the lightswitch on the wall, “lemme just get this-”

Macaque made a noise of surprise as the dojo’s overhead lights kicked on. They weren’t terribly bright, but the shadow recoiled from them all the same. “What is that?” He reached up gingerly, hand hovering around a lightbulb like it might burn him. “Did you do this? Doesn’t look like any kind of magic I’ve ever seen.”

MK shook his head. “It’s just a lightbulb, dude. It’s like, you know, electricity? Pretty much every house in the city has some.” His brow furrowed as Macaque continued to marvel at incredibly mundane things around the dojo. “So, uh… you recognize anything?”

“Huh?” Macaque said absently, “Uh, yeah, some of this… it’s definitely my stuff.” He ran a hand over the weapons rack. “I just don’t know why it’s here, and not on Flower Fruit Mountain.”

“I mean, probably because you live here?” MK offered.

Macaque whirled on him at that, eyes wide with shock. “I live here?” His hands flailed a bit, gesturing around the dojo. “Why do I live here?” He demanded, “What happened to Flower Fruit Mountain?”

Lifting his hands in surrender, hoping that it’d placate the panicking immortal, MK quickly explained, “Monkey King still lives on Flower Fruit Mountain, nothing happened to it, you guys just-”

“Then I need to get back,” Macaque said, breezing past MK and towards the door. “How far is it from here?”

“Uh- hold on!” MK wasn’t sure what he was dealing with, but if Macaque was startled by a lightbulb, the city was going to be a whole different kind of shock. “Let’s just- uh, hang on a second-”

But Macaque had already thrown open the door, barely taking one step outside before he was reeling. “What the hell is that?” His hands clapped over his ears as he stumbled back into the dojo. “What is-”

MK rushed forward to slam the door shut. “Okay! So, just to explain some stuff here, you live in the city,” he explained. Macaque reluctantly moved his hands, the outside noise banished with the closed door. “And it’s a pretty big city. There’s lots of people, lots of cars, lots of… lots of everything, really.”

“Right,” Macaque nodded, blinking owlishly. “Can I just-” His body dropped until he was crouched on the ground, resting on the balls of his feet. “Could you give me a second, kid?” He asked, lacing together his fingers and pressing them against his forehead. “Processing some stuff here.”

All things considered, MK was having a pretty weird day, but it occurred to him suddenly that Macaque was probably having a way weirder day than he was. “Yeah, that was probably a lot.” He gave Macaque’s shoulder a reluctant pat. The Macaque he knew probably wouldn’t have accepted any kind of reassurance, but this Macaque looked like he needed it.  “You, uh… you good?

“Probably,” Macaque mumbled. “Just gotta get ahold of myself.” He took a deep breath, the shoulder under MK’s hand trembling on the exhale. “What century is this?”

“I think we’re somewhere in the 21st century?” MK replied, “Probably. It’s not super clear.” He cleared his throat. “I’m guessing things are a little different than you remember?”

Macaque hummed. “Pretty much everything.” He stood and brushed off his shirt. “Okay, let’s try that-” He paused, looking down at himself with an odd expression. “That… that’s not right.”

“What isn’t? Your shirt?” MK shrugged. “You wear that thing all the time.”

“Do I wear it wrong all the time?” Macaque asked. “Because it’s folded-” He shook his head. “Whatever. I’ll worry about it later.” He looked back to MK. “So, about getting to Flower Fruit Mountain.”

MK clapped his hands together. “Yes! Flower Fruit Mountain, can do.” The issue with that was the Monkey King himself. MK was sure that Macaque wasn’t trying to pull anything, but he doubted his mentor would feel the same. If MK enlisted the help of Monkey King, there was a pretty high chance that he’d taunt the shadow rather than help. “There might be, uh- a slight problem with that, actually.”

“What?” Macaque crossed his arms. “Why?”

“Well-” MK was saved from having to say anything else by his phone, which exploded with sound. “Uh, hold that thought.” MK pulled his phone out of his pocket and fumbled with it for a moment. “I gotta take this.” And he did, not just because it served as a good distraction, but because MK had learned that if he missed a few calls from his friends, they would assume another world-destroying threat had appeared and start panicking.

Macaque frowned at MK’s phone. “What is that?”

MK made a vague gesture for him to wait as he answered the phone, quickly glancing at the caller ID before putting it to his ear. “Hey, Mei! Now isn’t really a good time, if I could just call you back-”

“MK!” Mei interrupted. “They fixed the Monkey Mech game at the arcade,” she informed him cheerfully, “and I owe you about two weeks of butt-kicking.”

“That’s great, Mei,” MK said, “but I kinda got a situation here, so-”

“Who are you talking to?” Macaque asked, tilting his head curiously at MK’s phone, like the device might somehow make more sense at forty-five degrees. “Is the talking box magic? Or is this another lightbulb situation?”

Shooing Macaque away, MK replied, “It’s another lightbulb thing, don’t worry about it.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway! Mei, I really-”

“Is that Macaque?” Mei gasped, “Oh, you should totally invite him to the arcade! Then I can kick both your butts at Monkey Mech. That counts as training, right? I feel like that should count as training.”

Macaque waved as though Mei could see him. “Hello, girl in MK’s talking box,” he greeted awkwardly, clearly unsure what to make of the phone. “What’s an arcade?”

Mei winced, “How out of touch is this guy?” she asked quietly. “Even Monkey King knows what a videogame is.”

“Does Wukong know her?” Macaque leaned closer to MK’s phone. “Girl in the talking box! Do you know Wukong?”

MK gently shoved Macaque away from his ear. “It’s called a phone, Macaque, would you just- Mei, I’m putting you on speaker.” He pulled the phone away from his head to find whatever button would play Mei’s voice aloud, so that Macaque didn’t have to talk in his ear to be part of the conversation. “There! Okay, um- Mei? I have a serious situation here, and it’s not a ‘go to the arcade now and fix it later’ kind of problem.”

“Macaque isn’t trying anything, is he?” Mei demanded, her voice suddenly taking on a low, dangerous tone. “MK, what did he do?”

“I just met MK five minutes ago, why would I do anything?” Macaque exclaimed, looking bewildered at the very notion. “And how did you get inside this box?”

“No, Mei, Macaque didn’t do anything this time,” MK told her quickly, and Macaque looked disturbed by the phrase this time. MK hoped that they’d figure out how to fix Macaque before he had to explain what had happened. “Macaque is the situation, he’s… I don’t know, he’s stuck. And I don’t know how to fix him.”

“Stuck how?”

Macaque made an unsure noise. “Yeah, we’re still trying to figure that out, too.”

“Hence, ‘the situation’.” MK pinched the bridge of his nose. “He doesn’t remember a lot of stuff right now, and I don’t know how to make him unforget. And, no, before you ask,” MK interjected before Mei could, “he’s not faking it. He’s a good actor, but he’s not this good.”

“Thank you,” Macaque said brightly. “I think. Have you seen me perform?”

“You’re absolutely sure this isn’t a trick?” Mei asked skeptically.

MK hummed. “Mm-hm, like, ninety-nine point nine percent sure.” He sighed, “But I have no idea how to fix it, and I’m not sure I can bring him to Monkey King-”

Macaque straightened at that. “Wait, why can’t we go to Wukong for help?”

“Uh- he’s busy,” MK said quickly. “Doing Mystic Monkey business, probably.” It was a lie, but it was easier than explaining the long, complicated history between them. Especially since MK didn’t actually know a lot about what happened. Macaque didn’t look very satisfied with the answer, but he didn’t press.

There was something garbled on Mei’s end of the line, a gruff voice that MK could recognize anywhere, even if he couldn’t hear the words. “Yeah, so,” Mei said, “Piggy is saying to bring him here? He and Tang think they might know what’s happening.”

“Really?” MK asked. “That’s great! We’ll meet you guys over there.” He hung up the phone, turning to Macaque with a grin. “Okay, change of plans. How do you feel about noodles?”

Macaque gave a half-hearted shrug. “I mean, they’re fine, I guess?” He fidgeted with his scarf, tugging at the red fabric with a crinkled nose. “Why? Are there noodles where we’re going?”

“Pigsy will probably have some ready when we get over there. He owns a noodle shop, and I work as his delivery boy,” MK explained while Macaque turned in a circle, staring at the tail end of his scarf as though baffled by it. “Did you- do you wanna change before we head out?”

“Can I?” Macaque swatted at the flowing scarf in irritation. “This stupid hanfu is driving me insane, and the scarf isn’t much better. It wasn’t even cold outside.” He started wrestling the red fabric over his head as he walked to the back of the dojo. “I’m gonna go look around this… whatever this is, and find something sensible to wear. I’ll be right back.”

MK wondered if Macaque would be insulted by himself when he got back to normal, taking jabs at his own fashion choice. He couldn’t wait to relay everything that had happened to the shadow when his memories came back, exposing the edgy lord of shadows for the softie he was, because MK did genuinely believe, somewhere deep down, that Macaque was still this soft.

But in order to tease Macaque about his long-buried softness, they’d have to fix him first. And MK figured Macaque would probably take a while with the wardrobe change–he could hear the shadow opening and closing doors, apparently having trouble figuring out which room might have some spare clothes–so he leaned against the nearest wall and scrolled through his phone. While he waited, he looked up the proper way to wear a hanfu. He wasn’t super familiar with traditional clothing, but Macaque seemed adamant that it was wrong, and MK was curious.

The results he got were a little more off-putting than he had anticipated. A hanfu wasn’t supposed to be folded the way Macaque’s had been, right over left, unless it was on a corpse, which had a pretty disturbing implication that MK didn’t want to think too hard about, even if it was just symbolism. He shoved his phone and his pocket and resolved to scold Macaque for his dramatics later.

“Hey, kid,” Macaque called, stepping back into the dojo, wearing what looked like a simpler version of the hanfu he’d taken off, folded left over right and accessorized with a red bandana. He looked nearly identical to the memories MK had seen in the Scroll. “I’m pretty sure that city outside is pretty difficult to navigate if you're a millennia behind the times. How are we getting to this noodle shop?”

“I’ll drive us there,” MK replied, “but we should probably head out now before traffic gets bad.” He started for the door, but stopped with his hand on the door handle. “Uh… is there any kind of- like, a magic thing you can do? So the city doesn’t hurt your ears so much?”

Macaque made an unsure noise. “I can keep them hidden, but there’s not much I can do for the sound.”

“Sorry, hidden?” MK clarified, confused by the statement as Macaque’s ears were clearly in plain view. Though, when MK thought about it, his full name was the ‘Six-Eared Macaque’. He hadn’t ever considered that the name was literal, but Macaque was capable of creating some pretty powerful illusions. MK knew about the scar he kept hidden, it was reasonable to assume that the shadow might keep a couple extra sets of ears hidden, too.

“Uh-huh,” Macaque replied absently. “Wukong usually handles the noise when I need it, but he’s not here… for some reason.” He looked around, like something in the four walls might have more answers if he looked hard enough. “I don’t know why I’d be doing this without Wukong around,” the shadow muttered quietly. “We must have become morons in the future.”

“You mean the present,” MK corrected. “Right? This is still the present? You’re morons in the present.”

“Technically, yeah,” Macaque conceded. “But my memories are stuck in the past somehow, so to me? It’s the future, and I’m not an idiot yet.”

“You know, fair enough!” MK replied, opening the door and letting the city noise back into the dojo. “Let me know if the city gets too loud for you, I’ll let you borrow my headphones.”

Macaque followed MK outside with a barely audible wince. “Your what phone? The box you were talking into?”

MK took the blue headphones off of his neck. “Put these over your ears,” he instructed, hopping in the driver side of his tuk-tuk and putting his key in the ignition. “They’re noise canceling, and I can play some music if you want.”

“No, it’s…” Macaque slipped the headphones over his ears, looking pleasantly surprised at the lack of noise. “This is great, actually.” He slid into the passenger seat of the tuk-tuk, looking around the city in amazement. “The mortals have gotten creative over the years.”

“Yup!” MK drove slower than he usually would, letting Macaque take in the sights as they made their way across the city. “Nothing like good ol’ human ingenuity.” He turned onto a busy street, watching in amusement as Macaque marveled at the skyscrapers and buses and neon signs. “It’s weird seeing you like this, you know? You’re not usually this enthusiastic.”

“Really?” Macaque asked. “What am I usually like?”

MK hummed. “You sorta got this… like, a slightly edgier vibe going on? Kinda broody, a little mean-ish.” Macaque looked concerned at that, so MK quickly amended with, “I think you have good- like, mostly good intentions, you’re just not always the nicest person, you know?”

“Mean, huh?” Macaque mumbled. “Wonder when that started happening.” MK had a few guesses, most of them involving a fight he saw, one deep below a mountain, but he kept that to himself. “I’m sure Wukong will know what’s going on. Whenever he gets back from his… what’d you call it? ‘Mystic Monkey’ business? I’m gonna need him to fill me in on a few things.”

“Well, hopefully we can get you fixed before he has to explain anything,” MK said. “No ‘filling you in’ required, because there’s, like, hundreds of years worth of stuff to tell you, and I don’t think Monkey King would have the patience.”

Macaque chuckled. “Fair enough.” He leaned back in his seat. “I can’t wait to tell him all about this when I see him again.” MK stopped at a red light, turning to watch Macaque. It was odd seeing an almost child-like wonder from the otherwise cynical shadow. It was easy to see how Monkey King had gotten along with Macaque in the past, if this was the Macaque he’d befriended.

But it made a small, anxious pit in MK’s stomach, knowing that this Macaque was also, somehow, the same Macaque that stripped him of his powers and pinned him to a mountain. The Macaque so eager to see Monkey King had grown to be someone who’d go to unfathomable lengths just to provoke his former friend into fighting him. MK had seen some pieces of their past, a peach-scented promise on a beach and a vicious, scathing fight from under a mountain, but it still seemed so surreal, that two people who cared about each other so much could become such bitter enemies.

MK shook his head as the light above him turned green. Macaque lurched a bit as MK hit the gas, and he put his hand out to brace himself on the dash. “So,” the shadow asked, “how far are we from this noodle shop?”

“It’s right up ahead,” MK told him, turning down familiar streets. “Oh, and just a heads up, I guess, because you don’t… you don’t remember it, but you don’t always get along with my friends. So, if everyone’s a little on edge, don’t take it personally.”

“Huh,” Macaque frowned as MK pulled up alongside the shop. “Well, I guess that’s not a surprise. I don’t get along with a lot of people in the past, either.” He pulled the headphones off his ears and handed them back to MK. “Maybe I can win them over. I don’t know what I did to make them mad at me, but I probably shouldn’t be on bad terms with your friends if you’re Wukong’s successor.”

“I mean, yeah,” MK said, hoping he sounded more optimistic than he felt, “maybe we can, uh- we can put in a good word for future you. Present you. Whichever you it is.” He cleared his throat and hopped out of the vehicle. “Come on! I’m sure Mr. Tang is pacing a track in the floor trying to figure out what’s wrong with you.”

Macaque slid out of the passenger seat and followed MK to the door. “Is this Mr. Tang guy familiar with my kind of magic?”

“He’s familiar with some magic,” MK supplied. “He’s still learning. And you’re a little cagey about your, uh… whatever you got going on.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I don’t even understand my powers half the time.” Macaque’s hand trailed to his chest, like he had something to protect there. “Hopefully, we won’t have to pry at anything to figure this out.”  He grasped the knot of his bandana as MK parted the wooden curtain leading inside.

Everyone was waiting, heads snapping to the door as MK entered. “MK!” Mei gasped, jumping from her chair and grabbing MK by the shoulders. “Are you okay? Where is-”

“Macaque!” Tang, half-hidden by a pile of books, yelped as the shadow slipped in the door behind MK. “He’s here!”

Pigsy’s eyes narrowed. “He didn’t try anything, did he?” He jabbed an accusing ladle in Macaque’s direction. “I better not find out that this is some trick of yours, ‘cause I have a pot of boiling water with your name on it.”

Macaque crossed his arms, looking self-conscious under Pigsy’s scrutinizing stare. “Alright, yeah, I see what you mean,” he told MK. “These guys do not like me. Which,” he lifted his hands placatingly, “I’m sure you all have perfectly good reasons for! So, I’m just gonna sit over here,” he moved to a table in the corner of the shop and pulled out a chair, “and, uh… be very quiet.”

While everyone else in the noodle shop seemed surprised by the complacency, Sandy waved from across the room. “Hello, Mr. Maquack,” he greeted warmly. “I heard you’re having some memory trouble.” He held up a book full of flowers and plants, “I’ve been looking for some cures; I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

The shadow gave a hesitant smile. “Maquack?” he asked.

Sandy shrugged. “You never corrected me.”

“Fair enough,” Macaque replied.

Tang squinted at Macaque, readjusting his glasses. “You know, I had my doubts about Macaque’s amnesia before, but… he’s like an entirely different person.” He pulled a book from his pile and flipped through the pages. “I’m not exactly sure what to do about this.”

“You think this is like the Monkey King’s amnesia thing?” Pigsy asked.

Mei clambered onto a barstool and leaned against the counter. “Uh- question?” she said curiously. “What amnesia thing are you guys talking about?”

“Yeah,” MK agreed. “Just a recap for, you know, anyone that didn’t see what happened.”

“Well, someone woke Monkey King from his transcendental meditation,” Tang said, glaring pointedly at Pigsy, whose only response was a huff and an eyeroll. “We were dealing with a much younger Monkey King for a while, and he seemed convinced that Mo, Pigsy, and I were his friends from the Journey.”

Macaque, from across the room, asked, “What journey?”

“But Macaque doesn’t think we’re anyone else,” Mei pointed out. “He just doesn’t know who we are.”

“And I don’t think he was meditating when I found him,” MK added. “I mean, it looked similar, I guess, but we're still not really sure what happened.”

Pigsy idly stirred his pot of noodles. “Well, it’s still amnesia, ain’t it? Let’s just find a big rock and have MK chuck it at his head. It fixed Monkey King just fine.”

“Sorry,” Macaque interjected. “Did you, uh- did you say that you threw a rock at Wukong? Because I find that both hilarious and mildly concerning.”

Sandy scratched his head in thought. “I’m sure there’s a better solution than that,” he insisted. “Throwing a rock at him seems like such a violent way to solve a medical emergency.”

Tang made an unsure noise. “Are we sure that this is a medical emergency? MK said that Macaque was doing something with his magic. If this is some kind of mystical interference, there might not be a lot of mortal remedies that can help.” He gestured to Macaque. “We don’t even know if Macaque is as indestructible as Monkey King is. Throwing a rock at him might actually make this worse.”

Mei hummed in thought. “Remind me again why we’re not asking Monkey King for help?” She placed her chin in her hand. “I mean, he’d know Macaque better than any of us, right? Maybe Monkey King has seen this before, even if this Macaque doesn’t remember it.”

“Even if this Macaque doesn’t remember anything, Monkey King does,” Tang pointed out. “Would he even be willing to help Macaque?”

“I mean…” MK started reluctantly, “they have been on better terms since the Scroll of Memory.” He fiddled with the zipper of his jacket, dragging it up and down anxiously. Just because Macaque had helped with the Scroll, didn’t mean the shadow and the king were on good terms. Their whole situation was too difficult to navigate. “Monkey King might be willing to help, probably.”

Pigsy raised an eyebrow. “Then why didn’t you call him,” he asked, and the question made MK shrink a little, because Pigsy never asked questions like that unless he already knew the answer. And, the truth was, MK wasn’t sure if Monkey King would help.

There were centuries of distance between Monkey King and Macaque, and MK was certain that the gentle exchange of glances he’d seen in the Scroll was only a mere dent in the walls they’d created around each other. Even with Macaque out of the loop, MK honestly wouldn’t put it past his mentor to heckle the oblivious shadow, anyway, just for the fun of it. And not only would that be incredibly unhelpful, it also wasn’t particularly fair to the memory-impaired Macaque.

“You know I can still hear you guys, right?” Macaque said from across the room, not looking particularly happy about what he was hearing. “I’m not called the Six-Eared Macaque for nothing.”

At that, Tang’s head snapped up, staring Macaque down with an odd look. “Six-Eared Macaque,” he repeated slowly.

Macaque nodded. “Uh… yeah, that’s- is that news to you?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe I should have introduced myself. MK seemed to know who I was, I guess I just assumed his friends would, too.”

“The Six-Eared Macaque?” Tang clarified.

“Well, I assume it’s the Six-Eared Macaque,” the shadow replied, sounding vaguely amused. “Unless that’s somehow become a common name in the last few hundred years.”

That didn’t seem to soothe Tang’s confusion, his brow furrowing as he turned to MK. “Did you know that was his full name this whole time?”

MK shifted nervously. “I mean, yeah, he mentioned it when we first met, but I didn’t think anything of it. He introduced himself as Macaque, so that’s what I called him.”

“That can’t be right, I thought…” Tang grabbed a book, a familiar one, worn with age and use. MK leaned over his shoulder as he flipped through the ‘Journey to the West’. “I didn’t think you were-” He snapped the book shut before MK could get a good look at what chapter he was reading. “How did I not see it before?”

Tilting his head, Macaque asked, “Sorry, what can’t be right? I’m still new here, so-”

“He was part of the Brotherhood,” Tang scolded himself. “The Macaque Spirit King, the Six-Eared Macaque, it’s Macaque, it all seems so obvious now.” He slipped a hand under his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Monkey King has a thousand titles; he’s Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, the Protector of Celestial Horses-”

“Oh!” MK interjected, “I asked him about the horse thing one time? He does not like that title, like, at all.”

Pigsy shook his head. “I don’t have the slightest clue what either of you are talking about.”

Mei hummed in agreement, “Join the club.”

“I mean, in my defense, people called Monkey King ‘macaque’ all the time!” Tang continued. “They called him ‘monkey’ and ‘simian’ and,” he turned to Macaque, “you’re a- like, a monkey demon thing, right? I thought ‘Macaque’ was just a name you got… stuck with.”

“Well, I’m- I think I’m technically celestial,” Macaque said. “And I don’t really see what my name has to do with anything.” He squinted at Tang’s copy of the Journey. “And I definitely don’t see what it has to do with that book, that’s… did someone write a book about Wukong? Am I in it?” He smiled, a fond looking thing. “Aw, he’s probably insufferable about that. His very own book.”

MK had been made acutely aware that he should have read the ‘Journey to the West’, Macaque had said as much at least three times in the Scroll. And, in hindsight, it would have been useful to have some information about Monkey King’s old enemies, but never had MK been quite so annoyed with himself for not actually sitting down and reading the Journey cover to cover. Of course, Macaque was in the book. He’d been trying to pry the information out of the two immortals for months, and he could have just read the book.

But he hadn’t, and maybe it was because some part of him didn’t really want to know the extent of the damage Monkey King had caused, or maybe he was afraid some of the enemies he’d fought had real reasons to hate the Great Sage. In any case, MK didn’t like the expression on Tang’s face as he looked at Macaque. “You know what? Maybe I should get Monkey King,” he said quickly. “I can try astral projecting, see if he’ll come to the noodle shop and help us brainstorm. Or I can bring Macaque to him! Maybe he’ll have something in the cave that can help.”

“He has always been a bit of a hoarder,” Macaque mused. “And if he’s been collecting for a thousand years, maybe he does have something.” Confusion creased his brow. “But I thought he was busy.”

Mei snorted. “Busy eating peaches, maybe,” she joked. “It’s his day off. MK had training with you today, so I doubt Monkey King is doing much of anything.”

Macaque glanced at MK, raising an eyebrow, “Mystic Monkey business, huh?”

MK gave a sheepish smile. “Yeah, so…” He ducked away and scurried to the stairs that led up to his apartment. “I’m gonna go call Monkey King! Be back in a minute.” He bolted up to his room, eager to escape Macaque’s prying gaze, shutting the door firmly behind him and slumping against the nearest wall, dragging his hands down his face with an exasperated groan.

As much as MK wanted to avoid a fight between the mystic monkeys, he’d reached a point that he was flailing for answers. And Macaque was behaving himself, if only because he didn’t remember how to be bitter, so if Monkey King was willing to call a truce long enough to help, maybe–just maybe –MK wouldn’t have to deal with them fighting like children.

He sighed and pushed himself off the wall, closing his eyes and summoning the focus to project himself outwards in search of Monkey King. If there was anything optimistic to be found in the ruins of his training session, it was that dealing with his two emotionally incompetent mentors would, at the very least, be a fantastic exercise in patience.

[absent-o-minded]

Tiny YR S3 Analysis

Just wanted to compare the parallels between these two hand holds in 3x05 and 3x06:

(Please ignore the shitty screencaps, I tried my best)

In terms of composition, these shots are identical. A hand-hold centre to the frame, in a car with the camera placed in the middle. However, they're underpinned by different narrative contexts.

Here, the first shot from 3x05 is drenched in darkness. The actual lighting inside of the car is dim enough to obscure both of their suits, which almost blend them into the seats and so it becomes hard to distinguish between the two of them - The only focussed light is on their conjoined hands. Notably, the actual touch itself is tentative, almost like the bridging of an awkward divide on the way to the palace. Neither of them are sure what the touch actually means. Even their sleeves fall over their wrists and interfere with the actual act, so we only see the bottom half of their hands. Simon reaches out first and places his hand in the open sliver between the two seats before Wille accepts and laces their fingers together. It's an assured squeeze that reads as: "I'm not sure what will happen. I'm nervous." "I am too."

This scene has garnered a lot of analysis for its parallel to the Kristina x Wille car scene in S1 where people have commented on the reversal of blocking - Wille now assumes Kristina's position and Simon equally assumed Wille's. We now know that this arrives before the birthday explosion, and so it's also a touch that signifies confronting the inner workings of an oppressive environment (the palace). It's nerve-wracking and cautious and consolidating, but it's also doubtful. We, as spectators, pick up on visual and physical cues and so we begin to see the hand-hold as an visual indicator that the unity between the two characters is about to be disrupted.

~~~~~

However, the shot in 3x06 reads entirely differently. The first thing is that the shot is bathed in light. It's a bit like an embrace, contrasting the previous presentation of a cold backseat, Simon and Wille are literally basking in the sun. Most importantly, there is a light flashing on Wille as it seeps in from the windows, illuminating his spot as a person who is newly free. Simon sits to the left with the natural light (no abundance of light) because Simon has always strived to be free. He has never turned away from the light. As he said earlier in the episode: "I never gave up on us. I gave up on the royal court." For Simon, the issue was never the fear of being free, but the constraint of not being free. For Wille, fear hung over his shoulders just like a King's robe would. Being free was an aspiration, never a reality.

But that has all changed. The light is let in. It stands similar to a spot-light, where Wille finally lets the sun hit his body and not have it scorch him, but rather enlighten him.

The actual act of holding hands is no longer bridging an uncomfortable space; It's an assured togetherness. It is the two of them acknowledging everything that has happened and knowing that a future for the two of them is no longer a "possibility", but a truth. It's giddy and confident and safe.

It's also the final touch of the season, and so it had to speak louder than dialogue ever could - Which I think that it does. Throughout S1 and S2, we understood that physical touch was always done in private, or if not, it was done discreetly with the knowledge that it was fleeting. S3 saw the transition from private to public, but not without the fight to touch and not have it be seen as a revolution. To just let it be what it is. And THIS is what the show has been working towards for 3 years. It can all be summarised with this simple, final hand hold in a sunny car that's racing towards a future that finally, finally resembles their dreams. It's not overtly revolutionary, it's not a grand gesture; It's just theirs.

[ordinaryschmuck]

Full Family AU Part 21

"She's so adorable!" Shouted one of Camila's older coworkers, a stout, gray-haired woman named Krystal Katz. Within seconds of walking in with Vee, all eyes from Camila's coworkers went right to the little girl clinging to Camila's legs. Krystal was the first to run over and give Vee's cheeks a little pinch, much to Vee's discomfort.

"Could you take it easy, Krystal?" Camila asked nicely. "She's...skittish with new people."

"Oh, sorry, Cami!" Krystal backed away, with Vee looking much more relaxed now. "Who is that little cutie?"

"And why is she with you?" asked Tanya, an intern with a blue dyed hair.

"Well, uh..." Camila put a hand on Vee's little head and rubbed it for comfort. Whether it was comfort for herself or for Vee, she wasn't sure. "She's...my daughter--Or, at least, she will be. Eventually."

"That...leaves me with more questions," Tanya noted.

"You see, me and Manny were planning to...adopt," Camila explained. "We always wanted a second kid, but after all the chemotherapy his...little soldiers, you could say, all called it quits. So adoption was the only way to...have more kids."

"Really?"

"Really," Camila said.

'Sort of...' She thought. 'The chemo did affect him that way and we were discussing adoption...'

Camila looked down at Vee, who looked back up at here with an unreadable expression.

'We were just aiming for someone younger...'

"Aw, so you've adopted this nice little lady?" Krystal asked.

"Yes--Well, sort of." Camila returned her attention to her coworkers. "I mean, yes, we're adopting her, but we're just...finalizing some things. It's a whole, long, and emotionally draining process that's...too complicated to go through now. So, instead, I'm taking Vee here to the break room so she can color and doodle. Just like Luz does when she visits. So if you have any more questions, please save them for later. I am just...so tired from this whole thing."

She then took Vee's hand and walked off to take her to the back.

"Okay, bye, Cami!" Krystal called. "And bye, you little darling!"

Camila only waved as she and Vee walked out. After coming to the break room, a nice place with a single table, counter, and a fridge, Camila sat Vee down right at the table.

"I'm going to have to ask you to stay right here for me, okay?" Camila calmly told her. "If you need me, or if you feel unsafe, just scream 'CAMILA,' and I'll be right over. I promise."

Vee didn't say anything. She just wrapped Manny's jacket around her some more.

"Vee? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry for making things emotionally exhausting," Vee quietly said.

"You've got to stop apologizing, Bebé," Camila said with a sigh, patting Vee's shoulder. "Not everything is your fault, least of all this situation. And don't mind what I said earlier. I was just...playing things up so they could hopefully stop asking so many questions. I'm not so good with creativity. That's Manny's department. So coming up with what to tell them all was...difficult. I just said stuff that's mostly true."

"So it's mostly true that you're exhausted?"

"I'm exhausted in a lot of ways, not just with you." She gave Vee a quick hug. "I pinkie promised, remember? You're never going to be a problem, and you definitely aren't one now."

Vee let out a calming breath, feeling lighter. And, once again, warmer. Camila then stood up and went to the counter, opened a drawer, and pulled out a sheet of paper and some colored pencils.

"You can use these to entertain yourself," Camila said, handing the pseudo art supplies to Vee. "I'll check in on you every ten minutes and there's a TV we have right up there."

She pointed at the top left corner of the room, where a small TV, dusty was hung up.

"It's old and doesn't play sound but I can still turn it on if you ever want to watch something."

"I'm good for now..." Vee took one of the colored pencils and the paper. "Thank you."

"Enjoy yourself, Mi--Bebé," Camila said, quickly correcting herself on the fly. And instead of focusing on what was almost said, Camila chose to ruffle Vee's hair a bit and walk out to start her shift, leaving the little one to her art.

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

hey slug,

whats ur opinion on the dh trailers?

Let's give them a listen! I'm currently in public waiting to catch a train, so I may breeze through this a little faster than usual.

Sasara's Laughin' Hope

(17 seconds in) Already obnoxious. (said with affection) Perfect for Sasara. Clashing dreadfully with the country song the café I'm in just started blaring.

(23 seconds in) Wait, no fancy subtitles? Channel Hypnosis Mic, you can't do this to me :(((

(30 seconds in) Oh okay there they are. I guess the earlier bit didn't have them because it was just snippets of other songs.

(33 seconds in) "So painfully aware of social mores it wraps back around to acting inappropriately" Cheers, bro, I'll drink to that. I like it that Sasara's acknowledging it outwardly to more than just himself or Roshou.

(45 seconds in) Man's opening tf up. You love to see it.

(52 seconds in) This song is too damn catchy to be listened to in public.

(1 minute in) "Gimme a light"... I wonder what that's supposed to mean. As in, light my cigarette? (That one gay-ass SamaSasa cigarette panel comes to mind.) Shine a light on me/illuminate me?

(1:08) I'm not a big autotune fan, but I'm kinda vibing with this.

(1:11) "Laughin' when I'm in pain, laughin' when I'm feeling fine" Homie is going THROUGH it

(Overall) I like Sasara saying the quiet part out loud--not just to himself, but to an audience. (Because it seems like most of his songs are performances, right?) Also a bop. Very fun!

Roshou's On My Way

(0 seconds in) All I can think about is that Phil Collins' room

(13 seconds in) I have literally no idea what to make of this, musically.

(33 seconds in) ...This feels like an anime ending. I think that's my only takeaway thus far. It's like...scrambling my brain. This isn't a bad thing. I'm just very...intrigued?

(39 seconds in) Okay the backing beat helps immensely.

(1:35 seconds in) Ohhhhhhh okay the "on" is from 途中. I think the vibe this title is supposed to evoke is kinda like "Work in Progress."

(Overall) I actually quite like this in terms of plot! It's a very hopeful song for Roshou and contrasts quite a bit with Sasara's song--he's openly acknowledging his issues and facing them head-on instead of being like "I use laughter as repression :) for the depression :)" The part starting from 1:29 is like: I'm still on my way Still hung up on the future Retying my shoelaces Only enemy to speak of is myself Only point of pride to speak of are my many failures All the answers I wrote that I went back and marked wrong Of course I wish I could back and do things differently, but I look up and watch the airplane shooting through the sky. Stop saying all the time: "Crap, what have I done?" "Crap, what do I do now?" Get out from inside my own head, Look out at the world around me. I see a long road ahead of me One that'll take so long to walk I don't know how I'll ever finish it. But let's go, one step at a time!

Rei's The World is Yours

No doubt orchestrated by Rei himself, Youtube gave me a financial scam ad on this video.

(8 seconds in) Yeah I can dig this.

(17 seconds in) What the fuck is that yelling in the BG

(26 seconds in) Oh, I like this a lot. There's an idiom in Japanese--"10 people, 10 colors"--meaning that each individual has their own unique outlook on the world. Here, Rei says "Repainting over the gray city [with] the ten people, ten colors seeping [into me]." Love seeing Rei express that other people enrich your life

(50 seconds in) He's unexpectedly honest in this song. There's a confessional or vulnerable quality to it I don't see often in Rei

(1:06) "Here and now, I'll fulfill a promise [I made] long ago and far away" Oh??

(Overall) Huh, interesting! Seems to be a "Life is what you make of it" sort of song

[minghaoyoudoin]

First

pairing: best friend!hyunsuk x fem!reader

genre: fluffy smut mostly

words: 6.5k (zoinks)

rating: 18+ ONLY!!! fr don't even think about it, minors

warnings: the concept of virginity, mention of and consumption of food, lots of kissing, dirty talk, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (don't be stupid like these two), hyunsuk is hung, some minor biting and hair pulling, creampie, aftercare, I'm sure I missed some but that's all I can think of lol

a/n: I'm baaaaaaack 😈 this was requested a very long time ago by my lovely 🐢 anon, I'm so sorry it's been so long! with this, I've finally written for all the cix boys mwahahaha. feel free to keep the requests coming, I'm finally done with school so my tumblr shenanigans are back on schedule!

Hyunsuk looked like he was going to vomit.

You stared at him across the small dining table, your forkful of pasta frozen several inches from your mouth. His usually golden skin had turned ashen, his face so pale it was actually bordering on green. Whatever he was thinking about to make him look this way was making the other restaurant guests stare.

“What is going on with you?” You blurted at last. You set your fork back on your plate as Hyunsuk’s eyes flicked up to meet yours. Panic weighed heavy over his warm brown irises, a blanket of fog to mute their hue.

Your best friend grimaced and swallowed thickly, his strong throat flexing. God, you were so tired of noticing things like that. “I think I ate something I shouldn’t have,” he choked out at last.

It was a lie. A poor one, too. “I asked you to lunch so I could ask you a question. Why are you the one about to throw up with nerves?” Your teasing helped disguise the anxiety eating away at you, but you weren’t completely sure if Hyunsuk bought it.

In all honesty, your reason for inviting Hyunsuk out today had everything to do with the fact you noticed things like his adam’s apple bobbing.

“You know I hate when people do that,” Hyunsuk said roughly. He took several deep gulps of his water, your eyes tracking the movement of his throat. “’Sukie, we need to talk’,” his voice rose several octaves to imitate yours, “’Can I ask you something over lunch?’. Do you realize I’ve been shitting myself since then?”

You laughed and reached across the table to pat the top of Hyunsuk’s head, at which he scoffed indignantly. “You know it’s nothing bad, Hyunsuk. I would have stormed over to your place to talk right away if that were the case.”

Hyunsuk had been your best friend for nearly a decade now. You knew him better than you knew yourself most days, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have your fun with him every now and then. If the roles were reversed you were certain he’d do the same thing.

The majority of the green tinge to Hyunsuk’s skin subsided as he finished the last of his water. “Fine then.” He motioned in your direction and finally took a bite of the sandwich in front of him. “Go on, ask your question.”

You opened your mouth and promptly stalled. You hesitated for several moments, abruptly nervous again. When you had played and replayed this scenario in your head earlier, you hadn’t actually considered what his real reaction would be. Would he laugh at you? Storm out of the restaurant? Declare he was done being your best friend for all eternity?

Hyunsuk raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

“We’ve been friends for a really long time.” It was not what you had intended to say.

“Yes?” He looked more confused now, though it was obvious his curiosity outweighed any annoyance. “What does that have to do with anything?”

You ignored him and pushed on, “Have I had a boyfriend in all that time?” Hyunsuk frowned and looked at a point above your head, obviously trying to remember.

“No.”

“Exactly.” You leaned forward in your chair, your pasta forgotten. “I think I’m going insane. Like, actually. No matter how much I thought about it I couldn’t figure out why, and then a couple weeks ago I realized. I’m frustrated.”

“…Frustrated.”

“Yes. I’m restless all the time, I can’t concentrate. I can’t even be alone in the same room with you without—”

“Hold on.” You cut yourself off as Hyunsuk raised a hand to stop you. His other one fidgeted with the white tablecloth, worrying the edge between his thumb and forefinger. “You can’t be in the same room as me?”

You realized now how that sounded when spoken aloud. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I…” You hesitated again, anxiety gripping your throat in earnest. “I’m twenty and I’m still a virgin. It’s driving me up a wall and—I, well…”

Hyunsuk looked like he’d seen a ghost. His eyes were wide, though they had taken on a different quality now than the panic that had been in them earlier. You couldn’t place it. “Say it,” he urged.

You leaned further towards him. He mirrored your movement, his face close enough to share breath. You glanced around to ensure no one was obviously eavesdropping and, once satisfied, you took a deep breath.

“Hyunsuk, I want you to fuck me.”

You internally smacked yourself. Why would you say it like that?

Hyunsuk released the breath he’d been holding in a strained exhale. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, brown eyes studying your face. You tried to ignore the disappointment rearing in your chest. You’d been expecting more of a reaction from him.

After what could have been minutes or hours, he quietly asked, “Why?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why me? I know we’re best friends, but you’ve never mentioned anything close to this before. Are you even attracted to me like that?”

Oh yeah, this would hurt to admit. Reluctantly and unable to meet his eyes, you nodded tightly. “I wouldn’t be asking if I weren’t, idiot.”

You knew he was grinning without having to look at him. He was still near vibrating with nerves. “Okay. That’s… good to know. I just… are you just using me to ‘get it over with’? I don’t want to be that to you. I don’t want to ruin our friendship like that.”

At this, your eyes snapped back to his face. “It won’t, I swear it. And you aren’t just some tool I can use, you know. It takes two and all that, so if you aren’t up for it then I’m okay with never bringing it up again.” You paused, trying to gather your thoughts. “I suppose when I figured out I was frustrated sexually like this, I realized there’s no one else I could imagine doing it with. Someone has to be the first and I want it to be you.”

Hyunsuk was still staring at you with that unfamiliar gleam in his eye, something you now realized might be desire.

A new thought crashed through your fragile wall of hope and wiped the smile off your face. “Do you…” You cleared your throat. “Do you not… like me like that?”

Hyunsuk laughed softly, his expression gentling. “Are you kidding me? Of course I do. You’re, well, you’re you.”

That was as close as he would get to calling you beautiful, you supposed. Even so, it was enough to stoke the flames of hope in your heart higher. “Then that’s settled. I know it’s a lot to ask, trust me, I do. If you need time to think about it I completely understand—”

Hyunsuk was out of his chair before you could blink. He looked close to throwing up again, this time with his new knowledge rather than the lack thereof.

“I just need a minute to think.” Hyunsuk began to stride away but froze as soon as he turned around. He looked down at you, his expression pained. “I promise I’ll call you, okay? I swear it."

Despite yourself, this helped you relax. When you spoke, you meant every word, “Take all the time you need. I’ll love you either way.”

Hyunsuk flinched, just barely. He tossed some cash onto the table for lunch and walked away, his long legs carrying him much too fast. You watched him until he vanished around the corner, the anxiety in your chest only worsening when he was out of sight.

What have I done?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You found the only way to forget how horny you were was to bake. It didn’t matter what it was. Cupcakes, brownies, cobbler, muffins, you name it—anything that allowed you to focus on a recipe and quiet your mind was good enough for you.

The second you’d gotten home from lunch you busted out every baking-related item you owned. You’d started with a cake, then cupcakes because you accidentally made way too much batter. While they were in the oven, you took the opportunity to take a long shower.

You went through the motions of washing yourself on autopilot. First shampoo, rinse, then conditioner. Shave while the conditioner soaked. Rinse. Wash your body, then your face. The routine was second-nature, unfortunately, which meant it did nothing to distract you from your thoughts. Even after finishing, you stood under the scalding water for as long as you could, just staring at the wall.

You’d scared Hyunsuk away. You knew it in your bones. His promise to call you had made you feel better in the moment, but every time you obsessively checked your phone the screen was blank. At this point you didn’t even want him to say yes. Honestly you wished you’d never brought it up in the first place. You weren’t quite sure what you’d do if you lost your best friend over something as stupid as your virginity.

You didn’t get out of the shower until the water ran too cold to bear. Your teeth clattered violently as you pulled on underwear and one of Hyunsuk’s sweatshirts, big enough on you that it hung nearly to your knees. Across the front in big, bold letters was the phrase EXTROVERT UNIVERSITY. Perhaps not the most appropriate for you, but certainly accurate for Hyunsuk.

You were brushing the knots out of your wet hair when you finally remembered you had food in the oven. There was no way it had been less than 30 minutes since you got in the shower. You dropped your brush and ran, spewing profanities under your breath as you went.

You expected to see your apartment filled with smoke. Or, best case scenario, open the oven to see a pan of inedible hockey pucks. What you didn’t expect to see, however, was Hyunsuk seated at your kitchen island, slathering butter onto a cupcake.

For several moments you could only stare. Hyunsuk hadn’t noticed you yet, since his back was to you, and he was lightly bobbing his head to whatever music was playing in his airpods. You shook yourself free of your stupor and strode forward so you could lightly cuff the back of his head.

Hyunsuk jumped so hard he nearly fell off his chair. He ripped his airpods from his ears as he whirled around, his eyes comically wide. “Dude, you scared the fuck out of me.”

“I scared you?” You shot back. “You’re the one who used your emergency key to get into my apartment! And you’re eating my food.”

Hyunsuk grinned. “Be glad I did, the oven timer was going off when I walked in. I saved your ass.” You plopped into the barstool next to him, unable to hide your smile. He’s here, he’s here, he’s here. Hyunsuk’s eyes drifted to your chest—more specifically, to the writing printed across it. “Is that my sweatshirt?”

“Your observation skills are incredible. If you hadn’t noticed, I just got out of the shower. Would you prefer I be naked?”

Color flooded Hyunsuk’s cheeks, all the way to the tips of his ears. He avoided your eyes, instead watching the cupcake in his hands as he picked it apart. “I guess that’s sort of the point, isn’t it?”

You paused, dumbfounded. Surely you misheard. “Sukie… is that why you’re in my apartment? To fuck me?”

“Would you stop saying it like that?” Hyunsuk huffed, his face impossibly redder. “And… no. Not necessarily. I just don’t like how we left things earlier.”

“Me either. I’m sorry I sprung it on you like that.”

“I’m not sure there’s a better way to ask your best friend to fuck you. Taking me out to lunch was certainly a good start.”

You giggled softly. “I guess that’s true. Want to tell me why you ran off?”

The cupcake in Hyunsuk’s hands was little more than crumbs now. He didn’t answer immediately, much to your dismay, but you allowed him time to gather his thoughts as best he could. Eventually, he asked without meeting your eyes, “In all the time we’ve known each other, have I ever had a girlfriend?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Um, I think there was one. Sophomore year of high school, right?”

Hyunsuk threw you an insulted look. “Are you talking about my partner in chemistry lab? No, dude, I don’t even remember her name.”

“Oh. Then… no, no girlfriends.” Hyunsuk said nothing, he just stared at you expectantly. You looked back, hopelessly confused. “What are you… oh. Oh.” You leaned forward and he looked back at his hands again. “Hyunsuk, you’re a virgin too?”

“Don’t act so surprised.”

“It’s not that, it’s just—I don’t know, I’m confused. How can you still be a virgin? You’re, well, you look like that.” You motioned vaguely at his face, hoping that was all the explaining you needed to do.

“The same could be said about you, you know.”

Your cheeks heated. There he went again, finding a way to call you attractive without explicitly saying it.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You asked.

“I was flustered. You caught me off guard and you were looking at me with so much hope on your face. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

You laughed, earning yourself another dirty look. “Sukie, how could I be disappointed? I can’t exactly throw stones, you know.”

“Still.” Hyunsuk turned to look at you again, this time swiveling in his stool so you were head-on. The look in his eyes was earnest now. “Look, of course I want to have sex with you. The way you asked me earlier gave me the worst fucking boner in the history of boners. You’re just so fucking innocent. Don’t look at me like that, I don’t mean literally. I mean, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

Your heart felt like it would leap from your chest. “What do you mean?”

Hyunsuk stood fast enough that looking up at his face nearly gave you whiplash. You copied him in an attempt to even the field but he still towered over your head. “I get a raging hard-on because of you every other day. You’re so unfairly gorgeous that I can’t concentrate when I’m with you. Half the time I’m pretty sure you think I’m an idiot because I can’t even string two sentences together without messing up.” Hyunsuk pushed his hair away from his face, obviously agitated, but he didn’t seem to notice when the strands immediately fell over his eyes again. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first moment I laid eyes on you. Not just that, I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you that exact same second—”

Hyunsuk cut himself off, his chest heaving. The black shirt he was wearing was tight, emphasizing the hard lines of his pecs and defined abdomen. You fought to keep your eyes on his face, though his admission had nearly knocked you flat on your ass.

“You’re…” You swallowed roughly, your eyes burning. “You’re in love with me?”

Hyunsuk gave you a tiny nod, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re in love with me, too, you know.”

He was right, you realized. You hadn’t thought much about it before—you’d purposely tried not to—but now that he said it aloud, there was no way you could deny it.

You loved Hyunsuk.

Hyunsuk loved you back.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted. “I guess I could crack a joke to ease the tension but that doesn’t feel appropriate—”

Hyunsuk moved before you could register it. One moment he was frozen, staring at you with wide eyes. The next, his mouth crushed against yours with enough force that you stumbled back a step. His broad arm snaked around your waist to steady you, simultaneously hauling you closer to his chest while his other hand gripped the roots of your hair at the base of your scalp.

You were kissing him back before you’d finished processing the feeling of his mouth on yours. His lips were unbearably soft, warm as they slid against your own. You whimpered quietly at the sensation, at the fact you were finally kissing him—something you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting your whole life for until this very moment.

Hyunsuk’s fingers gripped your ribcage, his hand large enough that his fingertips brushed the underside of your breast. His other hand, still tangled in your hair, forced your head back further, allowing him better access to your mouth.

You remembered your own hands and immediately shoved them between you so you could touch his chest. His heartbeat thundered against your palm, its rhythm mirroring your own. Further south, you were painfully aware of the hard length now straining through his jeans.

You couldn’t get enough. Your hands roved over him constantly, unable to stay in one place for longer than a second. His chest, his arms, his shoulders, his hair—you needed to touch all of him, all at once. Hyunsuk’s muscles tensed everywhere you touched and, when your fingers lightly tugged at his hair, he rewarded you with a small moan into your mouth.

His hips pressed insistently against yours, though you were certain he wasn’t aware of it. His body sought friction the same way yours did, the hot pounding between your thighs making your head spin. Hyunsuk’s hand around your waist moved to join the other one in your hair.

Gently but firmly he tugged your head back so he could look at you. You gazed at him through hooded eyes, your vision hazy with lust. Hyunsuk had an expression on his face you’d never seen before, one that would come back to visit you in wet dreams for years to come.

“Tell me you’re still sure.” He pulled the roots of your hair for emphasis, earning a surprised moan from you. Hyunsuk groaned. “Please.”

“I’m sure, I’m sure. Please, Hyunsuk.” You barely recognized your own voice. Rough and low, it belonged to someone else entirely.

He needed no more encouragement than that. Without warning Hyunsuk stooped so his shoulder pressed into your abdomen, forcing your whole body over it. You shrieked as he stood, both because of the fact you were being carried over his shoulder without warning and because of the sharp smack he gave your ass.

He didn’t need directions to your bedroom. Hyunsuk spent nights with you more often than not, though this would be the first time you’d done something in your bed with him other than sleeping.

Hyunsuk, despite the ferocity with which he’d kissed you, was gentle as he set you down on the bed. You sprawled on your back and propped yourself up on your elbows, allowing your eyes to rove over his body. He stared down at you with the expression of a man starved, but with every second that passed it turned more into insecurity. He didn’t know what to do now. Shit, neither did you.

You smiled up at him reassuringly. With as much sexiness as you could muster, you beckoned him closer with a finger. “Kiss me, Hyunsuk.”

As if under a spell, he obeyed. Hyunsuk placed one knee on the edge of the mattress and covered your body with his. He held most of his weight on his elbows, caging you in on either side. When he kissed you this time, it was softer. Sweet, like he was trying to savor you.

Your fingers hooked into his belt loops, pulling his hips flush against yours. You both released small groans at the resulting pressure. You allowed your hands to drift up his sides beneath his shirt, dragging it up his torso as you went. His skin was fever-hot and soft over hard muscle.

He sat up only long enough to yank his shirt over his head, immediately dropping down over you again. You touched as much of him as you could reach, the same fervor from earlier rising fast inside you. Everywhere your hands moved made goosebumps erupt on his skin. Hyunsuk broke the kiss, his breathing heavy. You watched him as he looked down at your chest, obviously unsure if he was allowed to touch you.

Wordlessly you sat up, forcing him to do the same. He stared at you in tense silence as you pulled his sweatshirt over your head, leaving you only in your lace underwear and bare skin. Your nipples tightened painfully under his gaze. The only word you could find to describe his expression now was hunger.

When he remained silent for nearly a full minute, you decided he needed encouragement. “Hyunsuk?”

It took him a moment to find words. “Yes?” He breathed, his voice hoarse. His eyes flicked between your face and your breasts, unable to stay on either one for longer than a second.

“If you don’t touch me in the next five seconds I think I might explode.”

He laughed lowly and palmed the impressive erection straining through his jeans. Curiosity nipped at the back of your mind, followed immediately by nerves. With painstaking slowness, he gently pushed you back down on the bed so you were on your back beneath him. He kissed you again, only once, before he began to move down your body. You squirmed as he left small love bites along the column of your throat, your shoulders, your chest. His touch was gentle, too gentle, but each time his teeth grazed your skin earned a breathy moan you couldn’t seem to control.

At last his full lips closed around your right nipple. Your entire body jerked at the unfamiliar sensation, followed immediately by a shaky groan of relief. Your fingers tangled in the roots of his hair as he sucked, his mouth unbearably hot and wet as it worked you. Your heart felt very near to thundering out of your chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, almost to himself. His teeth tugged at your nipple for emphasis.

Just when your pleasure began to mingle with pain, he shifted his focus to your other breast. He dragged his tongue across your chest, leaving a hot trail of saliva across your skin, and brought one hand up to knead the breast he had just finished doting on.

Each moan that left your mouth seemed to encourage him further. With every passing second Hyunsuk’s confidence increased, his ministrations turning from gentle exploration to eager sucking. The bright purple marks that bloomed across your skin made you see stars.

“Hyunsuk, please,” you whimpered, both your hands now pulling lightly at his scalp. Hyunsuk wordlessly continued his leisurely journey down your body. He created constellations of kisses across your ribcage, your stomach—his tongue dipped briefly into your navel and ghosted across the hem of your panties.

You genuinely wondered if you would go insane when he looked up at you through his eyelashes, a small smile tugging at his swollen lips. “Where should I touch you, baby?”

You tried not to let your surprise at the pet name show. An unfamiliar sort of pleasure clenched in your core, drawing your attention to the wetness between your thighs. You couldn’t manage to form coherent words—instead, you allowed your legs to fall further open around him, baring your center to his face.

His eyes fell to your core and he released another shuddering breath. His long fingers hooked beneath your panties and pulled them to the side. For the first time, you felt truly exposed. Hyunsuk said nothing, the heartbeat in your clit reaching astronomical levels under his gaze.

He blew gently on your overheated core and your entire body convulsed. “Now seems like a good time to remind you,” he said roughly, “that I don’t know what I’m doing. You’ll have to tell me.”

“You’re doing great, Sukie. Just… do it, please, before I die.” Your hands in his hair tried in vain to push his face where you wanted it, but Hyunsuk was far stronger than you were. He didn’t move an inch, much to your despair. Instead, he helped you pull your panties down your legs until they were completely off, lying forgotten somewhere on the floor.

Without warning, his lips closed around your clit. You let out a sharp gasp, inadvertently yanking on his hair as you did so. Hyunsuk, to your surprise, moaned loudly at the sensation, his hips thrusting against the mattress as he sought to relieve the pressure between his legs. His forearms snaked beneath your ass, his hands large enough that they rested on top of your hipbones and locked you against the bed.

You didn’t know what feeling to focus on. His tongue circled your clit slowly, exerting just enough pressure to make you squirm. Your core spasmed with every movement, but you already knew it wouldn’t be enough.

“More, Hyunsuk, please—” your voice broke off into a moan as he obeyed. Hyunsuk’s teeth grazed your clit at the same moment his lips closed hard around it, sucking forcefully now. You sighed heavily, the breath whooshing from your chest at some of the pressure between your legs finally easing. Your back arched off the mattress and you tugged harder at his hair—you weren’t sure whether you were trying to trap him between your legs or push him away.

“You taste—” he said, his voice muffled against your core “—absolutely incredible.” Hyunsuk released your hipbone so he could position two fingers at your entrance, gathering some of your arousal onto his fingertips before timidly pushing into you. You muttered incoherent praises as his fingers curled, his middle and ring fingers finding your g-spot with ease.

You weren’t going to last. Hyunsuk rammed his fingers into you at an angle at the same time his mouth suckled your clit. You looked down at him, struggling to keep your eyes open, to find him already watching you. He growled against your center—actually growled—as he felt your walls tightening around his fingers.

“Please, harder,” you begged.

“I have to prep you, baby,” Hyunsuk scissored his fingers against your walls for emphasis, eliciting another gasp from you. “I’m big.” He didn’t say it as a brag but rather like it was a known fact, something which inclined you to believe him.

You threw your head back, lost in your pleasure. Hyunsuk’s pace didn’t falter. He continued to moan into your clit, the vibrations ricocheting up your spine and forcing you closer to your orgasm. The lewd sounds of him fingering you were broken only by his muttered praises about tasting so good or being so good for him.

“Hyunsuk, I—I’m gonna—”

“Yes, please, please cum on my tongue—”

Your hips rocked against his face, any sense of shame lost in your desperation to cum. Hyunsuk groaned against you again and it was the final push you needed to catapult off the edge. Lightning streaked through your veins, your orgasm barreling into you with such force that your thighs snapped closed around his head. He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, instead feverishly moaning as he tried to prolong your high as long as he could.

“Oh my god.” You pressed your head and shoulders into the mattress, trying and failing to catch your breath. The echoes of your orgasm still zinged through your body long after Hyunsuk removed his fingers from you. When you finally managed to open your eyes, you nearly came again at the sight of Hyunsuk smiling up at you, his lips shining with your arousal.

He examined his glistening fingers and, like he was curious, he placed his fingers between his lips. He blinked innocently at you, smiling either at your taste or the expression on your face. Perhaps both. You groaned shakily and gently massaged his muscular shoulders. Somehow, your orgasm hadn’t calmed you down. You were more turned on than ever, actually, and you had never needed anything the way you needed his cock.

You pulled Hyunsuk up your body by the back of his neck, appreciating the startled noise he made. When his face hovered above yours you pressed an enthusiastic kiss to his lips. He tasted of chocolate cake and you, a flavor which instantly became your new favorite.

“I swear I’m going to return the favor,” you whispered into his mouth, “but if you aren’t fucking me senseless in the next thirty seconds I’m going to scream.”

Hyunsuk nodded fervently, all too excited to oblige you. You helped him out of his pants and underwear, almost too afraid to look down. As he’d warned you earlier, he was big—you could tell that much just by his height—but when his naked length brushed your thigh you seriously worried it wouldn’t fit.

“Raise your legs, baby.” Hyunsuk looped his arms under your knees and hauled them up, holding them there with his hands braced on either side of his ribcage. He kissed the tip of your nose and moved his face so you couldn’t look anywhere other than him. “Please stop me if I hurt you. We’ll go as slow as you need.”

Something in your heart fractured. Hyunsuk, your best friend. Your friend turned lover, and probably the sweetest person you’d ever met.

“I’m okay, Hyunsuk. Promise.”

He nodded, his eyes sharing lust and anxiety in equal measure. You finally allowed yourself to look down as he took his cock in a hand and pumped slowly. Any coherent thought left your head at the sight. Hyunsuk wasn’t just big, he was huge. Long and thick, his cock was flushed an angry red and looking very much like it would hurt.

He dragged the tip between your dripping folds, his precum only adding to the slickness there. Hyunsuk fitted the head into your entrance and pressed a chaste kiss to your brow. He thrusted experimentally, his cock entering you just enough that you both gasped in unison. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, unable to look away from your joined hips.

He captured your mouth in his again, probably to distract you from the pain. Even with the lubrication from both your cum and his, the stretch was enough to steal your breath. Hyunsuk kissed you like he was trying to stay grounded to earth. Low, frenzied moans rumbled in his throat on each pass.

The muscles in his shoulders bunched and flexed beneath your fingers. You gently bit down on the flesh above his collarbone to muffle the sounds coming from you, somewhere between moans and cries.

Your walls wouldn’t seem to give way. He took his time, never trying to force his cock all the way into you or increase his pace to one you couldn’t handle. Just looking at the size of his dick was intimidating enough, but having it inside you was something else entirely. He managed to get halfway in before the pain subsided enough that you began rolling your hips against his, silently begging for more.

He pulled out and, at long last, your walls relaxed as he pushed in. All at once, his cock plunged into you to the hilt, both of you gasping in surprise and pleasure.

“That’s it…” Hyunsuk sighed into your hair, his entire body shaking. “Atta girl.”

You whimpered, tears stinging the backs of your eyes. God, it hurt. He was massive and you were too tight, and holy shit you needed more, more, more.

“Move now, Hyunsuk,” you choked out. Your heels dug into his ass, feeling it flex as he timidly pulled out and thrusted back in. It still hurt, certainly enough to make you grit your teeth, but there was pleasure there now. Something in your lower stomach was already tightening like it had when he used his tongue. The urge to chase that feeling was enormous.

You bit down on his shoulder, harder this time. His hands found both of yours, lacing your fingers together and forcing them to either side of your head. His pace was still unbearably slow, his fear of hurting you blocking him from truly fucking you.

“Hyunsuk—”

You couldn’t finish your plea. His name cut off into a sharp whine as he snapped his hips into yours. He did it again, and again, and you were gone. Your moans were sometimes words, sometimes not, but they were completely wild and all for him.

The hard pace he set had your walls clamping down hard around him with every brush to your g-spot. Hyunsuk’s teeth were fastened onto his bottom lip, his eyes locked on the place your bodies collided, over and over again.

“Oh god, Hyunsuk, please, please—”

Your legs violently shook around his hips, the pain from before replaced only by pleasure now. Your walls spasmed and clenched around him, drawing deep whimpers from his throat.

“You’re so tight, baby.” His voice was unrecognizable. “You like this, hmm? You like your best friend fucking you stupid?”

You nodded, barely registering the words coming from his mouth. You were overcome by pleasure, by the feeling of his cock stretching you out and filling you so full you wouldn’t ever be able to forget it.

With skill you couldn’t understand, Hyunsuk pulled out completely and flipped you roughly onto your stomach. He hauled your ass up and closer to him, his cock easily filling you again before you could mourn the initial loss of it. You gasped, partly from shock and partly from pleasure.

Your forehead fell against your arm as he fucked you from behind, his pace fast enough now that it forced you further up onto the mattress. His body leaned over yours and he kissed any part of you his mouth could reach—your hair, your throat, your shoulders, it didn’t matter to him.

Hyunsuk was getting close now. His moans had turned breathy, his thrusts becoming more erratic as your pussy clenched hard around him. He gripped your waist hard enough to bruise, fucking you on his cock at a ruthless pace.

The hot ball in your stomach grew unbearably tight. You begged him to make you cum, to fill you with him, and his only response was to pound into you harder. When his fingers dove between your legs and found your clit again, your orgasm exploded out of you with the force of a falling star.

Your walls clamped down on his cock hard enough that he couldn’t fully thrust anymore. “Yes, baby, that’s it…” Hyunsuk sighed heavily, allowing his forehead to rest between your shoulder blades. “Cum for me, sweetheart.”

Your lips parted and your entire body locked, unable to produce any sort of sound under the weight of your orgasm. Hyunsuk’s cock twitched inside you, filling you with hot cum in thick bursts. For the first time, you remembered that you weren’t using protection and were extraordinarily grateful for the birth control pills you took regularly.

Your sweat-slick bodies trembled in the wake of your orgasms, his cock still nestled deep inside you as you came down. You weren’t sure how long you stayed that way, just holding each other and panting heavily. At some point Hyunsuk shifted so the two of you were spooning, but he didn’t try to remove himself from you once you were both laying comfortably.

There were tears in your eyes again. You tried to control it but a small sniffle escaped you despite your valiant effort. Hyunsuk was immediately on alert. He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced you to look at him, the look on his face a perfect combination of adoration and worry.

“Why are you crying?” He whispered, panicked. “Are you hurt? Did I… Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” You hastily wiped away the tear that had escaped one of your eyes. “Sukie, no. I’m amazing, actually. Better than amazing.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“I’m just… really happy.” You sniffled again, the truth of your words making another tear slide down your cheek.

Hyunsuk didn’t look convinced. He placed a delicate kiss between your eyes and at last removed his cock from you, both of you grunting at the sudden loss. Your pussy throbbed, a deep ache that you were certain would last for the next few days.

You admired your view of his nakedness as he padded into your connected bathroom, coming back a minute later with a washcloth in hand. You watched him through your eyelashes and let your legs fall open again. Gratification echoed through you at the way his cock twitched in response.

He knelt between your thighs and cleaned you gently. “We, um. We made a mess,” he admitted sheepishly. His throat and face flushed a deep, pretty scarlet, all the way to the tips of his ears. You grinned down at him lazily.

“Care to do it again sometime?”

He blushed further, eliciting a giggle from you. Wordlessly he stood and pulled on his underwear—something you protested to no avail—and he gave you a timid kiss before leaving the room. He returned before you could ask where he was going, holding two butter-slathered cupcakes and a bottle of water in his hand.

“I didn’t even get a chance to frost these, you heathen,” you laughed. Still, you accepted the cupcake he offered you and smiled at him warmly in thanks.

“So,” he began, his mouth stuffed, "is the internet right?”

“What do you mean?”

He motioned between you, both still naked except for his underwear and the sheet tucked around you. “Is our friendship ruined because we had sex?”

You pretended to think for a moment. You didn’t really have to ponder this question at all, but you did enjoy the frazzled look that appeared on Hyunsuk’s face. You took a bite of your cupcake and socked him playfully on the shoulder. “I definitely think it’s ruined, yeah.”

“For real?”

You leaned forward and kissed him too quickly for him to react. “I’m gonna be thinking about that tight ass all the time now.” You squealed when he pounced, caging you between his arms and nearly squishing your cupcake between your chests. You gave him a radiant smile, exhilarated.

Hyunsuk returned it, looking joyous and thoroughly spent. “I think I could get used to this.” He adjusted so that he rested casually between your legs beneath the sheet you’d covered yourself with. He took your cupcake and set it safely on your nightstand, now able to let his head rest on your chest as you held each other.

You petted his hair, just savoring the feeling of his heartbeat and his breaths that evened into sleep quicker than you’d thought possible. This boy, you thought, smiling sleepily at nothing.

Yeah. You could get used to this.

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[baileypie-writes]

HII can I request for sum velvet x male reader? (again💀) where reader is jealous bc a lot of ppl is kinda flirting with vel in the internet...I'm so sorry for requesting sm, I just can't find any other ppl writing for velvet and male reader soo...

A/N ~ Sure! I don’t mind the requests btw, request as much as you like! Hope you enjoy!

~Only You~

Velvet x Male!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Reader: Male

Relationship: Romantic

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Synopsis: Velvet gets flirted with a lot on the internet, and it’s starting to make you jealous.

Warnings: Jealousy(Reader), cringe

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Gosh, you were bored. You thought having the day off would mean having fun, but no. You were just sitting on your couch, flipping through channels on the TV. Nothing good seemed to be on, so you just gave up, and turned it off.

Suddenly, a notification went off on your phone, so you picked it up to look at it. It was a notification telling you that Velvet posted a picture on her social media. You always like her posts, she’s your girlfriend after all. So you open the app. A smile crept onto your face, happy to have something to occupy you for at least a moment.

The photo she posted was of her reflection in her mirror. She was trying out a new makeup look, and of course, she looked beautiful. She really knocked it out of the park with this look. You personally never thought of someone wearing purple lipstick before, but it looked great on her. Especially paired with the matching, glittery eyeshadow she had on.

You liked the post, and opened the comments to leave a compliment. But the ones that were already there caught your eye. Many guys were leaving comments that were obviously an attempt at flirting.

“Wow, you’re so hot! Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Cute! Are you single?”

“That’s a nice look. Wanna chat?”

You scrolled further, seeing more comments similar to those. Checking the profiles of those guys, a lot of them were older, making you almost feel ill. The fact that these men had no shame asking a woman out without so much as a “hello” made you upset, to say the least. Especially at the fact that the two of you have been openly dating for a few months. They could’ve checked her profile before asking, but you guessed that they didn’t care all that much.

A phone call from Velvet interrupted you from your thoughts. You answered it within seconds, happy to talk to her. “Hello?”

“Hey babe. I’m bored, can I come over?” Velvet asked, getting straight to the point.

“Sure. I’m actually bored too, so perfect timing.” You responded.

After saying your goodbyes, you hung up, and waited.

~~~~

It didn’t take long for Velvet to arrive. You met her at the door, since you had nothing else to do. You made sure to wave to Veneer, who drove her, before going inside.

The two of you headed to the living room, and Velvet flopped on the couch. She pulled out her phone, checking her notifications from her new post. “I see you liked my photo.” She said, smiling.

“Of course I did. I always like every one you post.” You said, sitting down next to her, and wrapping your arm around her.

Velvet hummed, and went to the comment section. Your smile faded as you saw all the comments from earlier. She didn’t have any reaction to them, just reading them. She liked a few comments, mostly from other celebrities, and turned off her phone.

“A lot of people liked it. Not that that’s surprising.” She said confidently.

“Yeah. Especially the men.” You mumbled the last part.

Velvet lightly gasped. “Aww, are you jealous?” She teased. She grabbed your face with one hand, giving your cheeks a squeeze.

“Well… yeah. It’s hard not to be when they say things like that. Like, our relationship has been public for a while now.”

Velvet laughed. “Well, don’t you worry. I don’t pay attention to those guys. Only you.” She released your face, giving one of your cheeks a pat. Then she went back on her phone, leaving the conversation behind.

Her reassurance made you feel a lot better. You know that Velvet’s loyal, but seeing how other guys are can make you feel insecure at times. So you’re thankful to have a girlfriend who pays them no mind.

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~~baileypie-writes