#i miss her blazers tbh

[ren1327]

Sorry, going through insomnia again.

But.

Anyone else notice how the kids look a little more like thier proto designs?

Darius's hair and "Big" Ben.

I love how much Darius looks like his Dad and brother. He was the youngest, so his growth spurt made a lot of sense.

Ben, I'm gonna miss my pretty boy, but this more athletic build makes a lot of sense when you factor in Bumpy, and maybe a better immune system?

I headcanoned Ben as having a weaker immune system, hence the carob and hand sanitizer insanity. So he working outdoors with big animals would have most likely led to this big beautiful man here.

Kenji and Ben's size differences switch, and the blazer making Kenji look more bookish. Haircut is also similar to "Xi".

Kenji would be more bookish. He went through an insane arc of the "cool Kenji" to just Kenji. Our Kenji. Growing up with a university student and a new younger brother who loves dinosaurs, he most likely would have focused on school... but stayed cool. It's giving Tadashi Hamada, and I'm not complaining.

Yaz looks very different from CC, maybe it's just the bangs. Not much similar to "Katie", in fact CC Yaz looked more like her proto design.

Honestly, I'm wondering if she's not in sports anymore because of the bangs. They'd get in her eyes and drag with sweat unless she pinned them back, so I'm wondering if maybe she switched interests. Into what? I don't know yet and I could use some suggestions.

As a Latino Texan boy and yearly attendee of the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo, Sammy looks Texan. She looks like she works in rodeo. And I mean that in the most positive way I can. She looks more Texan than her CC design.

While proto Sammy's hat was like: I'm Texan, this design! The boots, the jeans tucked into them and the turquoise what I think is leather jacket says "Welcome to the rodeo, bitch! If you can't ride, get the hell out the way!"

Brooklyn, who I defy is gone!!!

Brooklyn has the original ombre.

In this light, it looks tortoise and pink like Sammy's jacket, but I think it could be blond and pink like "Jules". That would be awesome tbh.

So far, I'm super excited.

I'm back on my bullshit (once I'm out of the woods here and my health is better regulated).

And I can't wait to see you guys later this month freak out with me.

[milfswriter]

Delivery

CEO!Rhea Ripley x reader

Summary: request, this is an au of this

Notes and warnings: barely proofread tbh, aphrodisiac, smut (why do I have to mention this lmfao?), fingering, office sex, slightly sub!rhea lol (ik you guys love that),

*these gifs of her aren't helping tbh*

"Miss Ripley?" Rhea heard her secretary, Liv, call. She hadn't even noticed her entering the room, lost in thought as she rested her forehead on her palm.

"A delivery came for you. must be Miss y/n," Liv teased, but her grin faded as Rhea looked up at her and cleared her throat.

Liv placed a medium-sized bag on the desk. "Anything else, Miss Ripley?"

"That's all," Rhea replied and Liv scurried out of the office, a small grin forming on Rhea’s face as she opened the bag to see a heart-shaped box.

However, she didn't notice the card that was still inside the bag. She untied the red bow on top of the box and opened it, humming at the sight of chocolate, which she's been craving recently.

She reached for a piece and popped it into her mouth without thinking, then another one before closing the bag.

She called for an impromptu meeting with HR, that stupid guy was sending her unfinished work and thought he could get away with it. Why she even hired him is a mystery to her.

She worked on some paperwork for about twenty minutes before she began feeling hot, she unbuttoned the first button of her shirt in hopes of it subsiding the hotness.

It did nothing, however.

She took off her blazer, breathing heavily as the hot sensation began traveling down her body. This..what was this?

It's the stress, isn't it? she won't prove you right by collapsing in her office! You've told her again and again that the stress will get to her one day and she'll snap.

She needed to get out of there, so she headed to the meeting room even though she wanted to make them wait for her in there.

Upon arriving, she found some HR employees and her secretary sitting in the middle of the oval table.

She said nothing as she sat at the head of the table, noticing them staring at her. "What?.." they said nothing but kept staring at her.

"Spit it out!" Liv winced before clearing her throat. "Are you alright, Miss Ripley? you look...flushed"

Rhea scoffed, "I'm fine..but that shitty paperwork you've been sending me isn't! go on!" The employee cleared his throat before beginning his rambling.

She called this meeting for a reason, but she can't seem to fucking focus. Her panic at the sensation turned into thoughts about..you. This couldn't be happening to her right now.

Your beautiful, pretty face was all she could think of. That cute little grin as you submitted to her wasn't something she could easily forget. She could never say no to you, no matter how hard she tried. Stay home for the day? deal, buy me an island? yes, Sell the company and stay home with me forever? Whatever you want.

The intense sensation was now dangerously close to her center, leaving her gulping and unable to sit properly in the custom-made leather chair.

"Take notes. I don't have time for this" She told Liv before getting up and leaving the meeting room to call you but of course, you were already in her office, your feet plopped onto the desk as you played with your phone while you laughed. She stopped her relieved grin from forming at the sight of you.

"What's so funny?" she husked out, making you turn her head to look at her.

You looked her up and down, panting and almost disheveled. "You..not reading my fucking card" you continued to laugh lightly, confusing her to no end.

"What..card?" she wanted to call you for a reason, and now that you're here..she couldn't waste any more time.

You stood up, walking to her while swaying your hips, shoving the also heart-shaped card in her face.

"You ate the chocolate, didn't you?" a smirk made its way on your face while hers dropped.

"Y/n. Princess. What did you do?" she gulped, quite frankly you'd never seen her in such a state so it was pretty amusing to you.

You shrugged, "I..wanted to warm ya up before you came home tonight..And..by the looks of it, you're TOO warmed up"

"stop speaking with riddles!" she snapped, loosening her tie before throwing it on her desk.

"It's the chocolate! it's a..stimulant" you chuckled, "had you read my card, you would've been careful not to eat more than one"

She groaned as you came closer, your cute little outfit and perfume not helping at all. Oh, you're so getting punished but it's definitely worth it.

"I think we need to take care of this" you whispered as you circled your arm around her waist, the other fiddling with her belt while you tip-toed to peck her jawline.

You've never seen her so...desperate. You stifled your chuckle before she slowly nodded her head as it fell to your shoulder, her hands falling to your waist.

You bit your lip as you felt her wet kisses between your neck and shoulder, "you're gonna put me out of my misery or leave me like this all day?" she asked, her hands bruising your hips at this point.

"I don't know..you have been teasing me a lot lately" she pinned you against the front of her desk but you already had unbuckled her belt, throwing it across the room before unbuttoning her pants, her arms on either side of you while her eyes bore into your soul.

"Miss Ripley.." you gasped sarcastically, not missing the way she tensed at the name "you are so...wet"

She looked down to see your hand in her pants, under her boxers, closing her eyes at the feeling of your fingers. It has been a while since she let you touch her like this.

Her knees buckled as a finger entered her, lips parting as she lost the last bit of control over the situation. This had not been her plan at all, but she was not complaining.

"What if someone came in, hm? And saw their boss getting fingered in the middle of her fucking office? What would they think?"

"They can go straight to fucking hell 'cause I do what I want in my building" she hissed in your ear with a stifled moan as she held herself up with her palms on the desk, not wanting to crush you with her weight.

You snickered, adding another finger into her while your thumb circled her clit. It was pretty hard from this angle but you've got to work with what you've got, you supposed.

You knew you hit her spot when a high-pitched moan came out, making her fall on top of you with a grunt. "Shit..sorry" she tried to get back up but you held her into you, smashing your lips together while she writhed on top of you.

"You close?" she nodded, her moans echoing through the room. Nobody would hear you two anyway, but Rhea isn't so sure she cares anymore.

"Beg for it" you ordered, slightly slowing down, eliciting a low groan from the CEO.

"Come on. Beg for me to let you come or you won't" oh, she's so gonna break you when you reach home, but right now your fingers are doing wonders to the effects of that stupid chocolate. Nice gesture, but the hidden purpose was so uncalled for. You could've just asked her to fuck you and oh she will, just not in the way you want.

"Fuck...please" she held your wrist to keep you from taking it out of her pants, "please..I'm close" you figured that was the closest you're ever gonna get to a 'can I come?' from Rhea Ripley, so you began speeding up again.

Your hand was cramping, barely able to move inside her as she clenched. "Come for me, Rhea" you whispered in her ear, thrusting hard one more time, the taller woman groaning in your neck as you felt her warm release on your fingers.

Rhea's mind went blank as she came down from the intense high, her body limp and spent on top of you. You held her close, gently rubbing her back as she caught her breath. She lays there for a few moments, her eyes closed and her chest heaving. Suddenly, she sits up straight and looks at you.

"You..are going to pay for that stunt you did you little brat," she says with a smirk before leaning in to kiss you deeply, you grinned as you still tasted the chocolate.

You took your hand out of her pants, putting the same fingers in your mouth to the knuckle while keeping the eye contact with the panting woman on top of you.

"I know.."

"And you're going to eat that chocolate when I leave for my work trip, and you won't. touch. yourself" Her threat seemed pretty genuine, but you were basking in the feeling of being in control for once.

----------

Bonus:

"Attacking me with chocolate? my favorite thing on this planet? cheap shot, baby" she laughed at your fucked out state, lips parted and eyes half open as she rubbed your bare back. Her cold hands doing gods work.

"Rhea. Shut up"

"Yes, love"

Taglist:

@obsessedwithwwewomen@ara-a-bird@jungwoospeach@neganwifey25-blog@yourmisosoup@cameronsdruthers@dementedtrashcat @sunnnyshark  @1c4ntg3ty0u0ffmym1nd

[v3nusxsky]

Hello !! Just dropping in to say hi and maybe ask a request (I feel bad 'cause I might be swamping you or annoying you with requests TvT)

Hope you're feeling good today!

And I just wanted to share something that happened to me (might be a good idea for a fic tbh 🥲 especially a platonic Larissa x student! reader). So there's this competition that I joined, my english teacher mentored me. I was very confident with my skills, and she really believed in me a whole lot (She saw my entry for the competition and gave me a thumbs up, that's a really good thing). When the results came out, I lost. We were both confused, because we know I had a great chance in entering the top ranks but welp just have to deal with it.

When the results came out, I was busy answering some worksheets. She came up to me and asked if I was okay, and she told me that the results came out. I was laughing out my nervousness, and when she showed me I didn't know what to say. She then immediately hugged me and told me it was okay and she was still proud of me (she really brought up my mommy issues that day. All throughout the day, until the awarding program, she comforted me. Received tons of hugs from her and it makes the pain of losing a bit better really.

I'm sorry for rambling hajdbchd again I hope you're okay!!! Sending lots of love and hugs <33

- 🦝

Private dancer 18+

*Authors note~ sorry for the wait but here's the highly requested part two for rhythm is a dancer.*

Trigger warnings~ daddy kink, shifted cock, dom Larissa degrading praise slight oral and fingering

Prompt~ Wrong ask! I’m so so sorry guys

part 2 for rhythm is a dancer

⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹

Ever since that day where Larissa caught you dancing in the studio she'd been unable to keep her thoughts from wandering. You were her employee, she knew it was wrong but her ever growing feelings for you were only amplified by watching you that evening. And the amount of times, late at night she'd laid in bed in the dark touching herself to the memory would be borderline obsessive. Truly you were a beauty to be marvelled. The way your muscles extended and retracted with every movement was just delicious, often she'd catch herself thinking of how the rippling muscles would feel under her hands or lips which caused her to be uncomfortable for the rest of the day.

Ever since that night you'd noticed how Larissa would avoid you, and couldn't seem to hold your gaze without flushing a beautiful rose pink colour. She was truly beautiful but for the life of you, you couldn't work out what you'd done to warrant such a reaction from her. But you'd had enough that was for sure. You loved dance but dancing around Larissa instead of with her was not how you wanted to be.

Thankfully, Larissa was feeling the same, after all if you don't try, you never know. And the perfect opportunity arose. The Raven nearing to an end, you were chaperoning to see if those dance lessons were paying off, clearly miss Addams would be a rare case but you couldn't help but admire her uniqueness and timing. When Larissa began to approach you could feel yourself getting nervous, "miss y/n you've done an excellent job. Perhaps you'd like to come to my office for a glass of wine to celebrate?"  She tried to sound confident but you could tell she was nervous so you shot her a sweet smile and confirmed you'd go, "thank you Larissa that would be lovely." The way her name sounded from your lips was simply heavenly, how was it possible to want you more than she already did?

And that was how you found yourself sat on her sofa with a glass of wine in your tight fitting suit. Your crisp white shirt accompanied by a black blazer, tie and dress pants, a far cry from what you normally would be wearing and it seemed the older woman was having a hard time tearing her eyes from you. You were not doing much better, her dress hugging her curves perfectly, you were practically undressing your boss with your eyes. You wanted her just as much as she wanted you but neither of you knew the other was interested.

"Sweetheart? I have a confession to make" the blonde murmured scooting closer to you, "I've seen you dancing and I have to admit it's made my feelings grow more than a boss and employee relationship. It's okay if you don't feel the same, hell I don't even know if your gay but I just had to tell you" she trailed off sounding so insecure your heart broke. "Isa" you murmured not realising the nickname slipped as you chuckled to yourself, "god Ive wanted you for such a long time, why would a goddess like you want me?" The shock in her eyes at your words was truly something else, as if you'd both been touch starved for years your lips met eagerly, a sweet but passionate kiss.

That kiss spiralled into a make out session where Larissa pulled you onto her lap as hands roamed each others body. "Sweetheart, can I, can we? Do you wanna" she muttered against your neck. "Isa if you don't hurry up and fuck me I'll do it myself and make you watch" you threatened only to be cut off as she sucked on your pulse point leaving a nice hickey to form there. "Isa" you whined throwing your neck backwards, exposing more sensitive skin, "fuck me" you purred causing the older woman to stand with your legs wrapped around her waist as she walked you both to her conjoined bedroom. Her lips never left your throat intent on marking you up for all to see. You. Are. Hers.

Her lips only your skin to strip you of the blazer and fumble with your shirt buttons and slacks. Leaving you stood in underwear and some how still wearing the tie. You managed to free her from the dress before she dragged you to the bed by the tie. "gonna be good for me?" She murmured kissing down your neck to your boobs, the bra holding them up nicely. Expertly the bra was discarded and her mouth latched on to your right bud while her left hand toyed with your left bud. Your whimpers only spurring her on. "Darling say red if you want me to stop" she demanded watching you nod before she sunk down to settle between your thighs. Underwear slipped over your legs before being thrown haphazardly away. Her lips making contact with your soaked cunt. "Oh look at your pretty pussy love, it's so wet for me."

Only then did her lips make their way to your clit as her long slender fingers found your folds. "Oh fuck oh god please" you whimpered as your hips bucked upwards uncontrollably, "so needy please" you whined only to be met with her two fingers slipping into your cunt as she crocked then to hit the right spot, easily finding it as if she knew your body inside and out. "Oh darling, fuck I want to fill you up, mark you as mine, you'd look so beautiful carrying my babies, god wanna get you pregnant" she purred into your ear never stopping her movements bringing you closer to the edge until you whimpered , "can you um shift it?"

The spark in Larissa's eyes could only be from the sinful thoughts in her mind. With very little effort Larissa Weems, now had a very thick looking seven inches dick, proudly standing to attention, practically begging to feel your heat. "Oh fuck, daddy" you muttered to yourself before realising what you said. "Shit I'm sorry I just oh god fuck" you whined your brain short circuiting as your eyes drunk in the sight of her new appendage. "Daddy wants to fuck you sweetheart, fill you up with my seed, fuck it into you so good that you get pregnant. Can I? " she moaned slightly when her hand began to stroke her length, a new experience for her but not an unwelcome done. "Please please I'll take it please" you whimpered pathetically being jealous of her hand.

The moment she slipped the tip into your drenched folds you could've cried. Hands on your hips to pull you closer Larissa slipped into your core as your walls stung with the stretch. "Oh fuck daddy too big too big" you whined watching as she chuckled and brought her mouth to your chest, showering both with attention. "You're pussy is begging for more darling, that's not too big and even if I was I'd make it fit" she murmured before ramming her cock straight into your tight hole pulling a scream from your lips which faded into moan. "So tight and warm oh god, don't think I'll last long with this greedy cunt squeezing me. Should take a picture" she moaned and panted as she found her ruthless rhythm. All you could do is lay there and take her ruthless pace and whine and mewl at her actions, "daddy god so good daddy fuck feel you throbbing daddy."

You barely managed a whimper in protest as Larissa flipped you onto your hands and knees, continuing to fuck you nice and hard. "Such a whore for me, god gonna cum so hard making you're take my load. Don't waste it. Fuck fuck god such a pretty cum dump for daddy. Can't wait to make you pregnant sweetheart. Gonna cum so hard baby take it" she moaned as her cock let out long spurts of thick hot white seed into your tight cunt as it milked her dry.

"Daddy daddy daddy fuck oh god fill me up please oh god I'm cumming daddy fuck" you mewled as you both worked through your highs. Only when Larissa was sure you'd finished did she slip from your core and shift her anatomy back and immediately head to fetch a cloth and some lukewarm water. "Gonna clean you up sweetheart okay?" She murmured and you nodded allowing her to do what she needed but whimpering at how sensitive your folds were. "Shhh sweetheart, I know I know. Almost there baby" she comforted before getting rid of the cloth and coming to hold you in her arms.

"Darling can I ask you something" the shyness in her tone alerting you something was wrong so you immediately nodded. "Do you um well I shifted. I changed is that why you um" she trailed off looking away in an attempt to hide the tears that chocked her voice. "Isa my love, look at me" you murmured gently guiding her to face you, "baby I love you for what's in here." You placed your hand over her heart, "I love you for you Isa, yes you can shift which can be really fucking enjoyable as we found out tonight. But it's only enjoyable if you enjoy it too Isa. I'd happily take you how you are strapped up shifted. Isa I love you and I have for such a long time. I'd never ask you to shift bc there's no one better than you love." You finished your point and wiped her falling tears with the pad of your thumbs before sweetly kissing her lips. "Do you want me to go?" You mumbled feeling slightly insecure that you'd upset her. "No darling stay please" she mumbled holding onto your arm, looking at you with pleading eyes. "I'll stay Isa, bed time love?" To be met with a nod as you both settled into bed, arms wrapped around one another.

Word count~ 1738

[positivelybeastly]

X-Men #5

Late, but who cares? Let's go.

So, I've made no secret that I thought Kwannon wasn't really being given enough to do, these last few issues of X-Men, and it's for the same reason I'm happy to see Greycrow here - Zeb Wells' Hellions was amazing. It was one of the few Krakoa era titles that actually bothered to examine the moral double standards of the era, that really took advantage of its unique status quo, that looked at mutant resurrection and thought, okay, how can we mine this, not for obscure background cameos that will make a person on Twitter happy, but for actual drama? It was a truly great series, and I was hoping it would be followed up, if only in small ways.

I do like that Kwannon and John have a cabin together. With how they left off, it felt very personal and intimate between them, like they truly didn't need anything else to be content with one another, and neither of them struck me as people who need action to be fulfilled - or, rather, they don't see action as a means for enjoyment. As Kwannon says here, it merely gives them purpose. So far, so good.

Wasn't expecting an Amelia Voght callback, of all characters. Then again, this is a Jed MacKay joint.

Psychics and death, name a more iconic X-Men duo.

It is interesting that we get kinda sort of confirmation that Quentin remembers being a head, since I would've figured that the Cerebro cradles were down and he'd have lost those memories, but I suppose it's also possible he could have just heard about it second-hand and been like, wow, I got turned into a head in a box? Weird.

Yeah, no, you don't get to call Scott Slim, Quentin. Only Hank, Bobby or Warren get to do that. And Jean, if she's feeling quirky.

Can I also say something? I actually dig Quentin's fit? I don't know if that says something about my fashion sense or what, but I actually like this look for him more than . . . pretty much any other look he's had. Granted, that's not saying much, given his other uniforms were black blazer with t-shirt, the 60s retro-futuristic mutant fascist attire, or the bland melange that was his X-Force uniform, but I do actually like it. Purple and checker pattern work.

So, this whole issue is an homage to New X-Men #121, which was part of Marvel's Nuff Said initiative, and it, along with all the other issues published that month, had pretty much no dialogue in it, it was all told purely through art. It's not a direct homage, of course, since dialogue is happening, but I appreciate the lampshade being hung on it here, with Quentin both pointing out that this isn't like the other homage, and then not-so-subtly pointing out why it isn't like them.

Because Quentin can't shut the fuck up.

Honestly, that's a fun spin on it. That's how you iterate on something you've seen before.

I'm a sucker for mental landscapes. Always have been, always will. I just like getting to grapple with a character's psyche in a tangible way, it's why I like series like Silent Hill or Star Trek's many telepathic episodes. And if I had to break down why I like them?

Well.

Pretty much.

You really could've just called this New X-Men volume 3, Jed, and I don't think anyone would've objected. That being said - I couldn't have given less of a shit what happened in Marauders volume 2, so seeing that Cassandra Nova is back and wasn't consigned to the dustbin because of that series is a win in my book. She's a top tier villain, tbh, one of the best new X-villains of the last 20 years, and her particular incisive methodology for breaking down heroes' psyches feels like it's perfectly suited for the team of this book.

As she demonstrates.

Ahhhh, good foreshadowing earlier, good stuff. And I have to say, Stegman's Sabretooth is fucking top tier. Excellent rendition of the big man himself (whom I already miss, even if he does have a miniseries coming up very soon).

This is a great sequence, tbh. Like, poor Quentin - this is actually the most anyone has made me feel for Quentin since Aaron, about ten years ago - but in terms of threat and character exposition, it's very good, with some excellent art and very Nova-esque deconstruction. I also particularly like this panel composition.

His head is in a smaller panel. His head is literally in a box.

Good stuff, tbh. Again, this is the most useful Quentin feels like he's been in a while, because if he did anything of real worth in X-Force other than die, I'll freely admit that I do not remember it.

Hank, Scott, do you . . . wanna get them some paper towels, or . . ?

Overall, not a bad issue - definitely not as memorable as the original psychic rescue, though.

Now, originally, I was gonna say, you can't hold that against it, it's not easy to match Morrison, that's just common sense, but then again, most writers don't directly invite the comparison, so, I really hope Jed is cooking up something long term and satisfying, because constantly referencing Morrison is all fine and dandy, but it needs to go somewhere.

Still, I'd say the title has been squarely good thus far, and it still has room to get better and better, so I'm gonna give it time to breathe.

Also?

Our expert panel of judges have concluded that Hank McCoy once again wins the title of Original X-Man with the Dumpiest of Dump Truck Asses. Thanks for trying, Scott, but, uh. Your nickname is Slim for a reason.

Conner, you and I are gonna fight.

Damn right. It's not Hank's fault comics readers don't read anything from before 2010 . . .

[charmixpower]

So! Stella said the girlies are gonna be the face of her fashion line which is super cute and then gave them their s6 civilian outfits

Let's go over these

Musa looks bad. Like, really bad. Just thinking about the way her hair needs to be cut for the ponytails on the side of her head to be that short. The polkadot socks are giving me s4 flashbacks and I hate them on principle. Those heels are absolutely nasty, and I don't know why they keep making them more childish while putting them in pump heels. Aside from that the suspenders, sweater, and tie combo is super cute. The skirt is mid, it's ugly, but plaid so I can't completely hate it

I've been informed that her pigtails are likely extensions and that makes it only a little bit better

Aisha's skirt!!! Is a god awful nightmare!! And I hate it!!! She's literally wearing three different shirts and none of them look good together. Imagining e girl Aisha is making me feel a little bit better but still. Her hair on the other hand is super cute, sure headband is a affront to humanity, but look at her hair!!

If you took off Tecna's bow headband and changed her skirt into slacks this would be a kicking Tecna look. Tecna with a blazer and striped shirt is W actually. Her heels are the second least annoying. I like her hair too, its short and that's all I can ask for

Flora looks...boring. Her outfit is so loud, but boring. Her skirt and leggings are two different shades of pink that are just close enough that they almost blend into each other, with stripes on the leggings for some reason. Her fucking jacket is so fucking loud with so much visual noise that it's distracting. Her heels are..... awful. The more you look at it the more visual noise you see, why is she wearing a bow belt??? Also I hate her hair, please, I'm begging you, s5 was enough with Flora with a bow in her ponytail up

Bloom's outfit looks good? Like not good good, but like, good enough, ya know??? Her vest and pulled up sleeves that is unbuttoned slightly is really cute. Her skirt is mid, her leggings are a completely miss, and she is also wearing socks with heels and i hate it but the heels themselves are kinda cute. Her hair however is super gorgeous, it's so pointy, really cute. Tbh if they kept the top and did literally anything else with the bottom it could be a look

Stella's is the only one that looks like something a normal human person would wear, aside from the colors, which is the main problem with this look tbh. How did they make Stella in a headband look wrong??? This is fucking crimes. Anyways the blazer top combo is cute but you couldn't convince me that Stella owns a button up skirt. She doesn't. Your lying to me. The skirt is cute aside from the pattern but whatever. She looks??? Fine???? Boring, extremely boring, but fine

My civilian ranking is: Bloom, Tecna, Stella, Aisha, Musa, Flora

Thank u for your time

[katewibberlystan]

what each main character’s sense of style is like

kate: whatever’s practical, comfortable, and clean is fine by her. wears a lot of soft sweaters and various jackets. green is the most prevalent color in her closet. wears dresses/skirts on occasion but prefers pants for her day to day life. i see her liking patterned scarves. mostly wears boots or sneakers but doesn't mind most types of shoes so long as they're comfy and don't have more than a 2 inch heel. sometimes leaves her hair down, sometimes braids it back/puts it in a ponytail, depends on what she's doing. not super into jewelry overall but obviously always wears her locket, also has earrings and maybe a couple rings. overall very simple and casual.

michael: very preppy and academic. owns a ton of button downs and blazers and wears them all the time. prefers warm colors like reds and oranges and browns. keeps his hair neat as much as possible. not a hat guy. matches small details of his outfits like his ties (when he wears them) or the color of his shirt to wilamena's outfits when they start dating. not super into accessories but does have a few lapel pins that he'll add for flair, and maybe a necklace or two. carries a messenger bag around because he thinks it looks more professional than a backpack. emma says he dresses pretentious and she's not wrong.

emma: the most messy and chaotic outfits you'll see. all of her jeans have holes in them, mostly from all the time she spends outside. loves hoodies. wears a lot of blue and purple. also clashing patterns. keeps her hair in a bob and has to be reminded to brush it at all. wears dirty/stained clothes out and about because she doesn't care. her backpack has a ton of pins on it. owns so much penguin memorabilia. had a hot topic phase. lives in sneakers. has a pair that lights up and calls them her fancy shoes. has one dress and two suits to wear for formal occasions but only if she has to. not into accessories. wears a baseball cap backwards because it annoys michael. annoys michael and horrifies wilamena with a lot of her clothing choices tbh. owns plenty of graphic t-shirts, mostly band shirts, but some with the most random things on them. owns and wears both of these with pride.

gabriel: practicality and weather resistance are his priorities. the master of layering items for functionality. has the sturdiest boots. owns a lot of flannels. also has a lot of animal skin/pelt items. his coat has lots of pockets. keeps his hair and beard clean. knows his way around hunting gear and armor. doesn't have much formal clothing but knows how to dress for fancy occasions all the same. constantly fending off emma and dena from stealing his clothes. his favorite jacket was a gift from granny peet. always hiding weapons on him. often wears accessories, specifically friendship bracelets and shell/tooth necklaces made by the kids from his village, wilamena, and maybe the wibberlys. super secure in his masculinity. wears all colors, but when hunting tries to camouflage. has been given dad related graphic tees by emma. he doesn't always like them but he keeps wearing them to make her happy.

dr. pym: canonically dresses badly in objectively fancy clothes. cannot tie a tie correctly. wears the same suit over and over again. lots of fun patterned ties. lots of stains and damage to those same ties. will wear accessories if given them. his hair and beard are really messy. glasses are always crooked. wears his dress shoes everywhere. doesn't know what graphic tees are but would think they're hilarious if he did. changes his style once a century at most. think's he's miss frizzle but at best he's her idiot cousin. looks like an academic at a formal dinner who got caught in a tornado on his way there.

wilamena: the fashion icon of all time. dresses like the princess she is. almost exclusively wears dresses and skirts. loves to match accessories. wears a ton of jewelry and bright colors. adores florals. can move in any shoes, no matter the style and the height of the heels. loves trying new complex hairstyles. on top of the trends but also can and will wear a ballgown to random places if she feels like it. does fun makeup on herself. owns plenty of perfumes. tries to be nice put judges other people's outfits and is snobby about it. owns two berets and is very into french fashion. owns a parasol. wears a crown and looks great in it. matches her outfits with michael. interested in design. she always looks the best in every room.

rafe: his style's stuck in the 1890s. wears suspenders regularly. loves hats, especially the newsboy cap. fond of jackets. mostly wears black and gray. his hair is always messy. wears walking around shoes like boots or sneakers at all times. keeps his face clean shaven. doesn't have many accessories but really likes what he does have. has a lot of winter clothing. sometimes wears wizard robes or formal clothing but prefers street clothing. knows how to patch his clothing and does so out of habit. did not have an emo and/or hot topic phase, but only because he refused to shop at the same place as emma. owns only a few graphic tees and is very selective about them, also because emma is a menace. will loan any of his clothes to kate if she wants them.

[amplexadversary]

More Utena, episode 21

Okay so the pillars that are framed as being "between" characters are a Mikage thing.

aaaaand extended flashback. So he used to be Nemuro? Like the professor who burned to death? But he's alive. Also those mortuary cabinets are apparently not for the infamous 100 students, because they burned to death and the bodies in them are very intact. And we see one before the incident being wheeled on a cart in the flashback.

I appreciate the pointers toward things to take notice of here; they're creepy as hell though with that sound effect XD

So we get a continuing gathering of cats outside Nemuro's office window, we get attention drawn to the teapot, to the butterfly that appears similar to the one mounted in the elevator in the present, and two students holding hands.

hold the fucking phone there might be some misdirection going on here

okay he took off his lab coat

did Inspector Tokiko Chida take off her blazer or did she change her shirt to one with a brooch on it?

also I like how this guy's narration about his project contradicts what he tells the inspector. "On schedule," is it?

actually, *[grabs a shot of the butterfly in the elevator sequence]* Those *are* different, but it could be the lighting. (hahaha my ass trying to identify a butterfly in someone's post that is currently in my queue is confounding an analysis.)

those flowers move. or. they line up the same in relation to the furniture but now they're depicted on top of the table rather than the floor.

okay now the inspector's lipstick aaaaaand...

So she's Mamiya's sister? They don't look the amount of alike that Anthy and Akio do.

Okay Reinhard.

Also from the elevator. But it's missing the four little caterpillar eggs?

I'm wondering if the fact that the beeping accompanying these sounds like a sped-up heart monitor is just to be creepy, or if it's about Mamiya's illness.

She's been to his office, recently enough that the cup hasn't been cleaned.

Aaand we get Anthy's brother saying some lines we've heard before. A black rose on the ground and more beeping

this is not what I was expecting that to lead to tbh. I was expecting something to do with those mortuary cabinets.

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

That is a whole lot of associations put out fast after that flashback. we have a visibly older Tokiko. We have a shadow chorus about robots that don't age or feel (Mikage? Mamiya? Akio? Anthy?)

We have Utena repeating a line of Tokiko's from the flashback, and-

Okay.

So.

Either she was lied to about her brother, or present Mamiya is a clone or a robot or something weird is going on.

So. Some of those little "notice this" pointers were important to things later in the episode, but the cats and the hand holding were *not* (unless I missed something.) So that might come up later.

[lafleshlumpeater]

lover thoughts:

i forgot that you existed:

cruel summer: 5/5

' "i love you," ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?'

i'm actually so not normal about this song. every time i tell myself i've gotten over it, i listen to it again and literally start thrumming on the spot. cruel summer will always have a place in my heart above all other songs bc it's what got me listening to the rest of taylor's songs. it gives me a lot of forbidden love/one sided love pining vibes, two of my favourite tropes. the bridge is so fun to scream to, it's such a summer song, and it just slaps differently. will never not be good to me tbh, it doesn't deserve ANY hate

lover: 4.25/5

'have i known you twenty seconds, or twenty years?'

the one and only title track. it embodies the full album so well, and is just such a masterpiece. i usually don't like the title tracks of taylor's albums as much as the others, however lover is probably the only exception. every time this song plays, you just think of THAT person. beautiful. the only reason i haven't given this song 5/5 is because sometimes i MIGHT skip lover if i've had a bad day or just not in the mood- basically it's not a song that uplifts you or can be played whenever. on the other hand i gave it an extra 0.25 because of the live performance of lover the first show after the breakup was announced officially- seeing the opposite and sad side of that song which i had never even thought about made me love this song so much more

the man: 4/5

'when everyone believes ya, what's that like?'

I SIMPLY DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHY THIS SONG GETS SO MUCH HATE?? it's such a bop, and i can only dream of angry singing this with a huge crowd with thousands of other girls. it's the perfect angry iconic song, and i can't remember ever skipping it. also the blazers and silver + red bottomed shoes from the eras tour are so iconic. again, i can't think of a negative element of this song except that i don't think it directly links to the main theme of the album, however it still somehow fits. i also like how the lyrics aren't saying that all men lie, cheat, are narcissistic, etc but instead how people disregard these things ONLY when they're done by men, however accuse women of these same things

the archer: 1.5/5

'screaming, who could ever leave me, darling? but who could stay?'

listen. i can't like this song, and i have genuinely tried. i'm not sure what it is, maybe the constant repetition of the same lyrics (but i understand that was done deliberately to create a certain effect). one thing i can give it credit for, however, is that i think the lyrics and the beat convey exactly the message and emotions she wanted it to convey. but yeah. i'm not particularly partial to many of the track fives either. also don't attack me but i've been waiting for this to be cut from the setlist forever BUT another thing i can give it credit for is the iconic 'the archer' pose

i think he knows: 4.75/5

'he's so obsessed with me, and boy i understand- boy i understand'

again, another underrated bop. tbh i never took much interest in this song, but a few weeks back i heard it for the first time in a while and it just went so hard. the clicking beat in the back (listen, i don't know my musical terms), the LYRICS, the implications of the song contrasting the kinda upbeat happy-go-lucky sound of it is just so good and quite unlike taylor's usually style. also, one thing she doesn't do enough in her song's that i'm OBSESSED with is singing particular lyrics in such a way that you can hear her expressions (like the cheeky smile you can hear in the lyric i wrote above, and in 'it's like i'm seventeen no-one understand, no-one understands'), and because she does this TWICE in one song makes it so precious to me. idk i'm just such a i think he knows defender it's so slept on

miss americana and the heartbreak prince: 3.75/5

'boys will be boys then, where are the wise men?'

THIS SONG IS SO GOOD. like to me this song has always been the embodiment of taylor and just the journey she's been through and everything that's happened along the way (even though it doesn't explicitly mention anything, but that's just the vibes it gives me). opening the eras tour with this song was such a good choice that tbh i never expected, but yeah. again, the hate for this song is so unsolicited like... the only reason i haven't given this song a higher score is because it's a great song, but when compared to the rest of the album, it's not one of my tops.

paper rings: 3.75/5

'i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this'

WHY SO MUCH HATE FOR SUCH A CUTE SONG?? this song is so fun and i love listening to paper rings sped up to practically rap to it 😭😭 it literally embodies the friends to lovers trope so well, and it's so FUN i honestly don't understand the hate. it was actually one of the first songs from lover that i listened to. again, the only reason this isn't ranked higher is because this would definitely be in my top ten lover songs, but not top five. also, like lover, sometimes you're just angry or sad and this is definitely NOT the song for those sort of moods

cornelia street: 5/5

'and baby, i get mystified by how this city screams your name'

I DESPISE MY PAST SELF FOR INITIALLY NOT LIKING THIS SONG. i could go on and on about cornelia street for hours, it's the perfect mix of bittersweet and a cute love song. tbh, i've always considered it a sweet song until i saw the performance of when she did it acoustic as a surprise song, and girl was ANGRY (if there's something anyone should know about my ts preferences, is that i am OBSESSED with her angry performances- they give songs so much more meaning and offer a very different perspectives to songs in some cases), and ever since then i've only ever seen it as a resentful and reminiscing breakup song. also i've only just realised after listening to cornelia street and false god back to back that she says 'i get mystified by how this city screams your name' and in false god she says 'i'm new york city'... ughhh i will never get over this song

death by a thousand cuts: 2.5/5

'my heart, my hips, my body, my love, trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch'

again, this song is so great but i feel like it doesn't resonate with me as much as it does with others. like yes i will sing along (and scream the bridge, bc it carries the whole song in my opinion) but i would much rather listen to something else off of lover. but i can definitely see myself coming to love this song so much if i put the effort in, but to be perfectly honest i have not done that 😭😭

london boy: 4.25/5

'show me a grey sky, a rainy cab ride, babe don't threaten me with a good time'

yet again. why so much hate for such a cute song?? it captures the feeling of being in love so well, and it's just so upbeat and fun. also, after the breakup and 'so long, london', it hits so different and in a good way tbh. it was also one of the first songs from lover that i genuinely would never skip, and for that reason i listened to it too much (which is why i didn't rank it a little higher). london boy is such a bop and i will never be convinced otherwise

soon you'll get better:

false god: 5/5

'and you can't talk to me when i'm like this, daring you to leave me just so i can try and scare you'

everyone and their MOTHER knows how obsessed i am with this song. i will never, ever get sick of it and it's so slept on!! why does everyone always rank it so low?? the jazzy saxophone, the outro, the metaphors, everything about this song just slaps so hard. definitely in my top five ts songs out of all her albums, i just love it so much. no words for this song except for perfection. taylor really ate with this and only few can recognise it, i really wish she would write more false god/so it goes/i don't wanna live forever/dress-esque songs

you need to calm down: 3.25/5

'and we see you over there on the internet, comparing all the girls who are killing it'

this song is honestly such a bop and fine to vibe to but again... compared to other songs on lover it would not be ranked very high. the bridge is so fun tho and her expressions she makes during singing the bridge at the eras tour are so fun. also i more often than not find myself skipping it but at the same time i do find myself craving it. also the 'idon'twannamesswithyourselfexpression' part is so fun to rap to fr

afterglow: 4.5/5

'this ultraviolet morning light below, tell me this love is worth the fight, oh'

i don't think afterglow is AS underrated as some others, but i feel like it's really overshadowed by daylight. the 'woah's and 'oh's in this song are SO GOOD, and the lyrics are just out of this world. tbh i've only really started being obsessed with this song recently, but it's genuinely such a banger. the performance of it at the eras tour was SO GOOD, genuinely made me want to cry. it's kind of like cornelia street, in the sense that it initially sounds like a sweet, yearning love song but is really just 'you're losing me' prior to the realisation that a relationship needs effort from both sides to make it work...

me!: 3/5

'and when we had that fight out in the rain, you ran after me and called my name'

I WILL ALWAYS DEFEND THIS SONG. it's so fun and upbeat, and (i think?) one of the few songs which highlight individuality and being different. i don't understand the hate for it, and it's genuinely disappointing to see how some people reacted to having me as a surprise song at the eras tour- i can sympathise with not liking the song, but being downright annoyed or angry is unjustified. i feel like if people genuinely tried to like it, they could- also, i think i feel like it's a 'thing' now where people just hate me! only because everyone else does, because in some comments sections you'll find EVERYONE defending it and in others EVERYONE absolutely slamming it

it's nice to have a friend: 3.25/5

'light pink sky up on the roof, sun sinks down, no curfew'

again, underrated and slept on. i like the 'ooh's throughout the whole song, it makes it sound so nostalgic and makes you miss something that you never had. i love the platonic aspect of this song as well as the undertones of friends to lovers- it's one of those songs that will never be uninteresting. the only reason i have not ranked it higher is yet again, there are other songs on lover that i would choose over inthaf any day

daylight: 3.75/5

'i don't wanna look at anything else now that i saw you'

this would probably be a little higher however afterglow really outdoes this song for me (idk why but i've always associated these two songs together 😭😭. however i will say this bridge was written so well, however i'm not sure if i like the key change in the bridge, i prefer the lower (again, forgive my lack of technical terms ejhdbjwh) pitch/tone she sings the rest of the song in. but i do like the fact that this is the last track of the album, i think it really fits and is just such a great conclusion to the whole thing, and the whole idea about there being 'daylight' after a 'dark night' and how that parallels that this song is the last on lover.

[jentlemahae]

mhm mhm a diff cut wouldve been nicer !! the jacket was a pretty huge hit or miss decision they were probably relying on lisa to make it look good,,,,the black inside also downplays the black colour of her shorts n stockings too imo so 🤷 had it been cut around like her hips/waist like a regular blazer i think it def would've prevented the weird silhouette when she raises her arms too without rlly changing anything to the little curved cut it has on that chest area

the necklace thooo,,,,its super long but i think it rlly adds an extra flair when she forgoes the jacket !! ooo god bless women

ohhhh yeah the black inside was no the greatest, ur right!! tbh personally i would’ve preferred something that highlighted her legs so that’s why i would have liked it to be cropped, but yeah something better tailored to her figure would have been better 🤷🏻‍♀️ and i looooved the necklace detail too !!! it was subtle and minor but imo really brought the look together!

[keiraxlucy]

Idk if you saw but Sammy was one of my absolute faves while she was at city so her retirement announcement did get me crying 😭💔 for people not following her I thought i'd share this bc it sounds like Lucy will be interviewed for a podcast / video some time soon which i'm sooo excited about

https://x.com/sammymewy/status/1748371773324660840

tbh I hope they end up inviting more city players that played with her too because I think Sam is a great personality for interviewing bc she makes fun of herself a lot 🥰 I loved when she joined Janine's podcast and they talked about how they couldn't understand Keira's accent and the manchester slang 😂

So so devastating to be forced to retire through injury and she really will be missed she's such a special player 🥹 Love the sound of what she'll be diug on Men in Blazers though, really hope we get some of her ex city teammates on there, like you say it already looks like Lucy will! Ahh I loved Janine's podcast and her vlogs 🫠

[absent-o-minded]

Uh Oh

The YR Season 2 Teaser dropped yesterday? You know what that means ! *Fires up the Chainsaw*

The Palace:

Personally, I think it was very clever of the YR PR team to release the first 4 minutes of Season 2 in replacement of a supposed trailer (eventhough one will likely come) because this does something very different to that of a montage of clipped, edited snippets throughout the entire season - Here, we're given a tonal opening.

Right from the get go, the transition from Wille's soft, intimate dream sequence to reality is indicated through a colour shift, and thus within moments of 0 dialogue an obscure location setting, we understand the gravity that the consequences of Season 1 has had. The golden-hued, saturated colour composition of Wille's dream is ruptured upon opening his eyes, whereby a greyish-blue seeps in through the curtains and he remembers where he has woken up. Simon isn't here. Actually, he never was. Unfortunately, Wille is in the single worst place on Earth. The Palace.

Even just by this subtle indication, the Palace becomes this sterile, de-saturated environment and we realise that the extent of the ending of S1 has, in fact, extended to the building itself. To Wille, the Palace takes upon this sombre reminder of the loss of hope. And despite never being a home, it's even less of a house now, because it's haunted.

The Walk:

This idea of the Palace being haunted is solidified in this small scene because Wille takes on the persona of a ghost.

The interaction between himself and the Cleaner/Housekeeper is weird, especially considering the royal settings, because all usual pleasantries are abandoned. Instead, Wille walks past, and she offers him no more then a quick glance, before continuing with her work. And it's not a look of acknowledgement either, it's more so the look you give when you hear a noise, wondering where it came from.

In turn, the camera follows him through the dimly-lit corridor as he stalks through it, the white shirt making him look almost-hollow. It's hinted at the gothic and I love it, because it makes so much sense. When a character is ruined, deprived and lost, they're not really full anymore, they're drifting through states longing for warmth. That's what Wille is doing right now. All of his desires (as seen in the very first 20 seconds) are confined to dreams, where he can escape the sadness of reality and experience a different plain, but that is his only solace.

Even now, he is both unrecognisable to himself and to staff of the palace. He's so far from who he was that when he got so close to experiencing something that felt like his, it was brutally stripped away and stomped on. Now, all that's left is himself (whoever that is) an his grief (wherever that's getting stored - It's pestering and sweltering). This is really just me wanting to start a ghost choir tbh.

The Blazer and The Portrait:

How has all of this pain, this line of ascension, this sense of missing and longing and wishing been compacted into a blazer? Erik's blazer.

I could cry over this picture - It doesn't fit at all. It's too big on the arms and at the waist. The crown has lost all of its significance, because now the blazer grips the body, but on Wille it's oversized because it was never meant for him. None of this was ever really meant for him. None of the plans made were catered towards him, the narrative followed someone else and he was supposed to be a supporter. A bystander. But now, the room is empty. The stand holds a piece of what waits for him, but it feels all too wrong and uncomfortable because it was Eriks.

His body is distorted in it because he's trying to fit the role of something that was never tailored to him, but he's desperate to feel some sort of closeness to Erik. He's hugging it tighter around himself in the hopes that he'll feel like Erik, assured and confidant, or even better, that he'll feel Erik, his compassion and his warmth. He's just a kid. Isn't that enough? He's just a kid who misses his big brother and who just wants a hug.

Not just this, but Erik's portrait is in the frame and is placed behind Wille, which has so many meanings, such as: 1.) Erik is subverting the theme of pressured surveillance by looking almost fondly, or sadly on his doting brother, like he understands that from his death, Wille now must fill his shoes, and he has to bare witness to the trials and tribulations that Wille is about to face, 2.) Wille is trying to emulate Erik's confidence and grace, of which are all encapsulated in this blazer as the framing lends itself to parallelism - The blazers present on Erik, but it looks neater, refined, right, like it's meant to, but on Wille it just looks strange.

How else can you say 'I miss you so much' when the other person isn't here to hear it? How else can you articulate 'I wish you were here. Or at least, I wish I were more like you, so then maybe in some part you would be here.' other than trying to picture their clothes, their face, their eyes? How else are you supposed to ask 'God, I wish that you would tell me what do to. How did you do it so well? How do I do it as well as you?' other than wearing their blazer and hoping that it'll wrap you up and take you away from all fo this? When you can't sleep, and you can't weep, and you can't put a name to your pain, what else are you meant to do than miss them and hope that it's enough?

The Tin:

I know I said that I could cry at the last picture, but this really is the last reason to push the stake further in. Just look at it, it's so-

Of course, just to plop the cherry on top of the cake, Wille ruffles in the inside pockets and finds this little tin (Is it a match tin?) engraved with 'Once A Brother, Always A Brother'.

This little addition offers the only reciprocal of Wille's love, as well as offering the only validation of his feelings, because it works both ways. As well as being Crown Prince, Erik was the only one that Wille wholeheartedly trusted, and felt like he could tell anything to. That's a special person, and it's a unique relationship when it happens, one that is precious. But Wille is also Erik's brother, and there is likely a part of him that feels responsible for carrying on his legacy, both out of love and out of duty. In this situation, the lines are so blurred it's hard to tell where devotion starts and obligation ends.

Not just this, but the fact that it's a match tin (as far as I'm aware) and in S1 Wille's flame was 'ignited' shows how Erik has always been present throughout Wille's journey.

I would just want Wille to know that Erik loved him so much, and that he would've been so supportive and proud of his little brother. Now I'm going to go burst into flames tears, 'xcuse me.

The Burning and The Mirror:

Now, I'm no pyromaniac, nor have I dabbled in arson, HOWEVER-

Notice how, through the framing, Wille's face somewhat replaces August' in the mirror after Wille has burned it away? His flame has been ignited, and now it's manifesting within himself. The burning itself is significant because it's an act of self-rebellion, and provides a little bit of catharsis.

Through this, Wille is actively erasing August from the narrative and distancing him from his Brother, who isn't here to do it for himself. Perhaps one of the main things that Wille is trying to protect is Eriks legacy, particularly in relation to his previous friendship with August, who Wille already stated at the end of S1 is "no longer a part of his family." It's just that now Wille has reason to act upon his desires.

But also, the way in which the 4th wall is broken is equally as significant - Beforehand, when Wille first breaks the 4th wall in S1, it's in the Apology issue and the camera creeps closer until it receives the warranted reaction from something that is suffocating and intrusive. But now, he breaks the fourth wall through the perspective of the mirror, looking at us through a reflection, as if we're stood behind him (The question this begs is whether that's in solidarity for Reputation Era or that we as an audience represent the lingering presences that he's ready to banish, displaying the conviction he has about August).

Either way, our presence is acknowledged, this time against the framework of consequences as opposed to the previous one in S1 of expectation.

And I understand that revenge is not always the healthiest means of healing.....HOWEVER-

The Eriksson House and The Acceptance:

IT'S THE GROOVY GANG !

This is a slightly different representation of the Eriksson home than we've seen before, as usually it's dark and the mains rooms we've seen are the kitchen, the living room and Simon's room, and initially when I watched this I thought that they had moved (The threat of getting doxxed, the presence of the press etc) It could be a possibility, or it's just that we're seeing a different image of the home.

It appears much lighter and airier, comprised of pastel greens and windows, which offers the impression that maybe the family are in a better place now due to the stark contrast between this home and the Palace.

Also - I'm guessing that the letter Sara gets is for her acceptance for residency at Hillerska, right? But the placement of the acceptance letter is both for narrative sake, like kickstarting Sara's journey regarding staying at Hillerska as well as externalising her wants - Acceptance. Throughout S1, that is all Sara wanted and all that she craved for, and now, this is the first sign of her integrating into the Hillerska environment and hoping that she is accepted beyond admission. I'm really excited to see how her story plays out !

HONOURABLE MENTIONS:

Wille simply just closing the door on Kristina. No shouting. No crying. No clipped words. Just the simple act of rejection.

More indications to August' eating disorder/body dysmorphia (He's an extremely nuanced character, and I still stand by the fact that resenting a character for their actions whilst acknowledging their nuanced portrayal are not mutually exclusive. Thanks critical thinking, luv you babes <3)

The music that played after Wille lit up Augusts face? Already SLAPS. I'm so excited for this years soundtrack !

Well, I'm down with freshers flu atm so this genuinely took all of my brain power and now I am s P e N t. But, please let me know what you think !

[mishkakagehishka]

ohhh little gorey prompts you say?

you know how some serial killers have calling cards? mika as a serial killer but his calling card is to take the heart of his victims ♡

Serial killer Mika!! My beloved fr. I love that idea, but also I had to look up anatomy pics for this and ?? Why did I think a liver was like. Much lower and much smaller lmao

Word count: 1517 Summary: Mika has a bit of an unorthodox hobby - he's really found himself in the art of murder. And he always makes sure to take a souvenir with him after each kill <3 Warnings: gore, mucking about inner organs, death Note: I have no idea what I did to his motivation tbh. You know that part of Human Comedy where he goes off on why humans suck? I just remembered that and went "aye, let's go"

A starless night, dark and cold. Mika clutched his bag closer to himself, seeking the warmth he couldn’t get from his light blazer. He forgot to dress up warmly today, not expecting the sudden drop in the temperature. Already dozing off, he barely kept himself on his feet in the train, leaning onto the pole with all his weight. There was still a few more stops until he could get off, he wouldn’t be harmed by closing his eyes, just resting them for a minute. The train was empty, anyway. Just him and one older man who was fast asleep on one of the seats. But as he let his guard down, Arashi’s warning from earlier that day echoed in his mind. “Be careful on your way home, today, Mika-chan!” she’d said. He knows why she told him that, and why there was no need for him to be careful, but he’d feel bad ignoring her advice.

There was a bit of a problem in the city. The news only ever talked about it, everyone seemed to be in a panic, people were spreading truth mixed with lies. Even a mythology of it was born. There was a serial killer on the loose, to keep it short. Nobody knew who they were targeting, why, who they even were and if they worked alone or not. The only thing that was known was that people have been turning up dead. And the theory of a serial killer was brought up when, after a few autopsies, a chilling pattern was noticed. All of them were missing their heart. Or, rather, although they were found dressed, stripping the bodies revealed a sloppily stitched up chest. And taking out the thread - an empty spot where the heart was supposed to be. The killer’s sign, their calling card. It couldn’t have been anything other than a sick person, to be able to not only murder someone violently (all the victims showed signs of struggle, strangulation marks, shallow cuts, and bruises. The cause of death was almost always blunt force), but to then cut them open, steal the heart and sew them back up, putting their clothes on and leaving them on the street. It was a wonder how the killer was never caught, considering the bodies were always out in the open. And what on Earth were they doing with the hearts, anyway?

Well, that’s why Arashi wanted Mika to be safe. He was so thankful to have friends who worry and fuss over him, but she was worried for nothing, really. He couldn’t tell her that, but he knows nothing will happen to him. And he sees how fearful she is whenever she has to return home alone, too. He notices how scared she gets whenever the topic is brought up. Mika wishes he could tell her not to worry, nothing will happen to her. But he can’t. As much as he trusts her, he just can’t tell her why he’s so certain no harm will befall the two of them.

“Hah~,” Mika breathed out. Sat on his knees on the hardwood floor, he wiped the sweat off his forehead with his forearm, careful not to touch his face when his hands were so filthy. They always struggled. And he was never able to land a clean cut because of that - not only could he not see in the dark, but then they keep fighting him off… As if it would save them. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he fished the little pincushion from his pocket, laying the vibrant red thread and needle on the floor between him and the body. Another person who struggled, another person who will be found with a bruised neck and broken bones. He’s thankful he had the dresser to bang their head against - he was already so tired, he felt like he might have been overpowered this time. That would have been a tragedy.

It didn’t take much effort to strip the shirt off a corpse, and it took even less effort to drive his knife into their chest - right above the sternum and between their clavicles. It took a bit more effort to wedge the knife down, to tear through their skin and flesh, down to their stomach, however. The stench of blood mixed with the horrid stink of death, permeating the air. But all it did was make Mika breathe in deeper. He’d always liked the scent. He wiggled the knife a bit, trying to pull it free from the body. It gets stuck sometimes, that’s just how it is, so he had to be forceful. With an “oomph”, he finally freed the knife, setting it down beside him. He had no qualms digging in, either, shoving his gloved hands into the gaping wound, spreading it further open so he can reach in more freely. Though it was always difficult to reach the heart without taking anything else or breaking the ribs, Mika thought he was getting better. Wiggling his hand below the ribs, past the stomach and the liver, until he could grip the heart. His other hand was leaned on the corpse’s shoulder, to keep himself from falling as he leaned over them, blindly digging around their organs. When he felt the heart unbeating in his hand, he made sure to squeeze it just enough to hold it safely in his hand, not enough to break it, as he tugged. It took one, two, three strong pulls to separate it from the rest of the body, a disgusting sort of squelching sound resulting from his efforts.

And when he held it in his hand, this proof of life, this proof of his taking of a life, he felt an immense exhilaration in his own heart. He felt powerful, in control. This was all it was to him. All those people acting smart, trying to guess his motives - there were no motives. He just did it because he wanted to, because he could. Because it made him feel good to exert his power over others in this way. All of those people asking why he was doing it, if he was antisocial or if he had a personal vendetta against these people. He didn’t. He just hated humans, so much. Mika knows all of the people he’s killed have done horrible things, because they’re humans and that’s what humans do. So, is he really in the wrong? There is no such thing as innocence in this world, so why does it matter if he takes a few lives? When others are making lives worse, his acts of killing may as well be a mercy.

The sewing, however, was still crude. He cuts too deep, and so his mere thread can never sew them up as well as he would like to. Mika threaded the needle, trying his best to make it look tidy this time. He was improving, he thought. It might take a few more tries to perfect, but there was definitely an improvement compared to his first times. He managed to actually close up the hole this time, tying it off neatly and biting the leftover thread off, giving it a clean finish. At least, in his opinion. He always got angry when watching all those hotshots on TV calling his sewing “sloppy” – he’d love to see what they’d manage with nothing but a needle and a thread. The body was clothed once more, and he waited by the entrance to this now resident-less home, peering from behind the curtain for his chance. Although it was already nearing two in the morning, stray cars passed by, some folks returning from an outing here and there. He had to make sure nobody sees him, after all, or else his fun would be cut short.

And when he finally did leave the body in the street, he returned back to the train station, waiting for the late train, as if nothing had happened. The “souvenir” he took wrapped in his blazer, which was stuffed in his bag alongside his ruined gloves. To be safe, he remembered to wash his face and forearms in the bathroom at the station. His shoes were still bloodied, but he can pass it off as mud if anyone questions him, or even just say he got a nosebleed he didn’t notice. Mika’s hand gripped the bag closer to him, unconsciously patting at the section where his blazer was placed. And all those folks wondering why he took the hearts and only the hearts… What did it matter? It was for him. For his collection, to be placed in a jar and kept. To inspire his art.

And once more, the news will talk about a brutal murder. Once more, he’ll have to comfort Arashi. Once more, he’ll laugh and assure her nothing will happen to him on his way home. Once more, he’ll pretend like he’s oblivious and stupid, making sure that everyone sees him as nothing but a harmless young man, as the least suspicious person in this city.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

bb / gg, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is the lead singer in a rock band and failed his Biology class last semester, so he has to take remedial classes over the summer. You're the Biology TA, double major in Psychology and Biology, watching him freak out over his make-up exam because he had overslept. Both of you are surrounded by rumors. Does the title stand for bad boy / good girl or bad bitch / good guy? Who knows.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; not the healthiest dynamic tbh; slight angst due to perceived unrequited love; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics, begging, scratching / marking, choking, handjob (he is still wearing underwear), multiple orgasms, cowgirl, hair pulling, edging / orgasm denial, cock ring usage, m-masturbation, cum-eating); non-idol!BTS – rock singer, sub!Jungkook x studious, dom!reader

yes, it's SOWOOZOO JK, both the first yellow tropical look and the shredded black shirt look; for those who wanted him to be dom!JK, there is a moment when he is but not in the way you think because that's how I operate

--

Jeon Jungkook was a bad boy.

Wore too much black, dyed his hair too much, had tattoos, always had girls hanging around him. Sang in a rock band on the weekends, played electric guitar, played the game of how-many-numbers-can-I-get tonight? Never gave a girl his leather jacket to wear but was happy to buy her a drink and flirt with her until she got hot with arousal.

You were a good girl.

Always wore a blazer. Crisp white dress shirt and pleated skirt underneath, usually in a dark color. Sensible heels, but always heels. Did too many units a semester because you were double majoring in psychology and biology. Always arrived to class early, always turned in your assignments on time, always turned in your tests early and aced that shit. Took physics with calculus even though you didn’t have to because it was the harder one and you wanted a challenge.

-

Against the wall, shoving a fist into the neck, lips to lips, teeth snapping, hand travelling down, whimpering pleas and harsh growls, keep crying, I like it, ecstasy and pain, nails to skin. Tearing clothes off, biting, marking, I own you, and then, yes, you do, mouth and tongue, aching pleasure, cocked eyebrow, mocking the pathetic whines and cries, stopping right before the end, no, please, I’ve been good, and, you take what you get, hand fitting onto the neck, squeezing the sides, eyes rolling back, skin to skin, bruising slaps that would be seen tomorrow in the mirror, traced with shaking fingers and pants of an open mouth, moaning at the memory of sky-high pleasure while lightheaded and thoughtless, desperate to do it again.

-

There was a rumor.

Everyone liked Jeon Jungkook. He had two smiles, an endearing one and a teasing one. Both encapsulated the kind of person he was, honest and playful. He always sang with conviction, he rapped with savagery, and his lyrics were always from the heart. He always hung out with his bandmates after their performances at bars and interacted with those that came up to him. No one ever said Jungkook was mean or rude in any way.

And yet.

There was a rumor.

A rumor that Jeon Jungkook was taken.

He was the kind of guy that always made sure a drunk girl got home safe even though he didn’t know them. Paid for their taxi and everything. He focused a lot on his music and writing lyrics he thought would connect with others while taking into account his band members. He always told the truth if a girl confessed to him, saying he wasn’t looking right now, that he was very sorry if she thought otherwise, that there was someone he was already interested in.

-

“Oi.”

You slammed a hand onto the tabletop and Jeon Jungkook jumped, the shredded black shirt he was wearing falling down his shoulder, revealing his ink black tattoos on his tan skin. He was wearing a black tank top underneath.

“What’s with you? You missed the exam for your remedial class and you’ve spent the past ten minutes spacing out at your make-up exam,” you barked, pointing to his empty exam sheet. “You haven’t even filled out you name.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “S… Sorry.”

You frowned. Why was he apologizing to you? Honestly, why did you sign up for this summer TA position again? Oh, right, money and credits. Hmph. It was really just an excuse for the professor to slack off while you did the tedious things like grading and watching over idiots that skipped class. Sorry, overslept. Hung over, probably, since this was the Jeon Jungkook. Rockstar, hottie, famous in his own way.

Whatever.

He could be Jesus Christ and you would still be scolding him for missing his remedial Biology exam.

“Fill out your name so at least I can fail you properly.”

Not that it mattered, since you knew who he was. He didn’t know you knew who he was, and you had zero incentive to inform him that you were indeed aware of the existence of black-haired, tattooed, chiseled-jaw, sparkly-eyed Jeon Jungkook, all due to the constant snide remarks that followed you in your wake.

You wouldn’t be such a bitch if a guy like Jeon Jungkook put you in your place.

Who the fuck was Jeon Jungkook?

This guy, this weirdo about to fail his fucking Biology exam in front of your face.

Impatiently, you rolled up the sleeves of your gray blazer and grabbed a chair, dragging it up to the table. You snapped the chair down and sat in it, smoothing your skirt. You liked to be neat. Even though university didn’t have a uniform, you liked to keep some sort of uniform for yourself. There was a sense of security in knowing you didn’t have to select an outfit every morning. Today, white dress shirt, gray blazer, pleated black skirt that hit slightly higher than mid-thigh. Every other outfit was some variation of this and, in the winter, you wore thick stockings.

You clicked your heels together under the table sharply.

He flinched at the sound.

Jungkook wasn’t looking at you. He was mumbling at his paper.

“I… I think I studied the wrong chapters…”

You clicked your tongue. Jeez.

His hand was shaking so bad that his pen was practically vibrating. You leaned over the table, grabbing his fist to still it.

“Stop.”

Your bare knees hit his bare knees, mostly because he was wearing black jeans with giant holes in them. Jungkook froze, head snapping up, silver earrings jangling, black hair flying, undercut visible for a second.

“You want to pass this class or what?”

He nodded quickly in response.

“Good. I want to get out of here. Keep your mouth shut. Answer to the first question is A.”

His eyes widened.

“Are you… helping me cheat?” he whispered, terrified.

You cocked your head, letting go of his hand. “You said you studied the wrong chapters. I’m not spending forty-five minutes of my life to watch you panic and then ten minutes more failing you,” you replied lowly, dangerous edge to your voice.

“I… couldn’t… I mean…”

You shoved his knees open with yours, narrowing your eyes as he yelped, pleading look in those brown doe eyes. You pressed your knees on the inside of his thighs, keeping them open.

“Answer to the second question is C.”

When Jungkook didn’t move, you reached over and cupped his chin. Felt his racing heartbeat pounding through his veins, coursing through your fingertips. Stared deep into those eyes, lowering the octave of your voice, keeping his thighs spread for you under the table.

“Listen to me,” you murmured softly. “Okay, Jungkook?”

“O… Okay…”

And he did.

-

There was a rumor.

Nobody liked you. Maybe it was because of your high scores ruining the class test average. Maybe it was the dismissive way you spoke to people, almost demeaning. Most likely it was a combination of the two. Students talked behind your back all the time, spreading rumors. Friends? What friends? You had an average of twenty class credits a semester. You didn’t have time to make friends. And besides, why try to make friends when clearly nobody wanted to be your friend?

And yet.

There was a rumor.

You ignored such things. You didn’t need such distractions.

-

“It would be too suspicious if you got full marks. This score is high enough.”

“O… Okay…”

“Get on the table.”

Jungkook scrambled on the wooden tabletop as you pushed his exam aside. You were still sitting in your chair. Your head tilted, eyebrow lifting at his speedy response to your rather suspicious request.

“You listened.”

He blinked at you. “Uh… yeah?”

Silence.

“Why?” you finally said.

Jungkook gulped. “Be… because you asked,” he mumbled, knees on the table, hands clutching his knees.

“You can just walk out and report me.”

He shook his head quickly, black hair flying everywhere. “I don’t want to.”

Your other eyebrow raised. He chewed on his lip, a flash of pink tongue in his movement.

“Tell me what you want. I’ll do it.”

Well.

You decided to test his conviction.

“Edge of the table. Spread your legs for me.”

Instantly, obediently, Jeon Jungkook surprised you by doing it, putting each leg on either side of you, chunky black sneakers hanging down. Shredded black shirt open, hands behind his ass, towering over you, and yet his eyes were watching you, waiting for more, begging for instruction.

“Hm.”

You raised your chin, seeing his impressively muscular thighs and body displayed for you to take. He was so close you could smell his clean, dreamy scent, like a meadow in summer dusk, surrounded by peeking stars and blinking fireflies. Interesting.

But you didn’t need the distraction.

“That’s it. You can go now,” you said dismissively, about to push your chair back.

His legs closed in, pressing firmly into your upper arms. Your eyes flickered up to him.

Jungkook shook his head very slowly.

“Do what you want.”

You saw his chest rise and fall, his silvery voice deepening, pupils expanding.

“I know you want to do something to me.”

His erection was bulging against the zipper of his black jeans. Your eyes went back to his face. He shivered at your sharp stare. All of this was happening in an otherwise empty lecture hall, with you and Jungkook at the very bottom.

Just you and him.

You placed your hands on his thighs. He jumped a little, but scooted closer to you. You slid your hands up. You undid the button of his jeans, scrutinizing those brown eyes. He raised his hips to help you as you pulled the zipper down.

“You don’t know me,” you finally said, no inflection in your voice.

He didn’t look away. “I don’t care.”

“Hmm.” You smirked. “Bad boy, aren’t you?”

Jungkook shook his head slightly, but didn’t break eye contact as you pulled his pants to his knees and reached for his black boxer briefs. “No. I’m a good guy. I want to give you what you want.” You hooked your fingers over the waistband and nicked his skin with your nails, making him gasp, the pleasure evident in his tone. He did not try to hide it from you. “I want to be good for you.”

“Why is that?”

He hung his head a little.

“Something about… how you make me feel…” he muttered. His gaze finally faltered. You reached up and righted his chin, forcing him to look at you. Saw that Jungkook had a mole under his mouth, perfectly in the center. He had a nice shape to his pink lips. You tapped his cheek, nudging him to elaborate. “You… You’re so pretty… and smart… Everyone looks up to you because you have such good grades…”

You doubted that.

Jungkook probably had no idea that most of the school hated your guts.

You didn’t have classes with Jungkook, but you were sure he knew your name because your name was posted on the Dean’s List of the highest-ranking students of the university every semester. Also, you weren’t hard to miss. Every student moved out of your way when you walked through the halls, whispering behind their hands.

Jungkook brought you back to the present.

“I feel,” he whispered, voice trembling, gaze locking with yours. “I feel like I want to be on my knees for you.”

His skin was warm under your nails.

“Like this is where I belong, in your hands.”

You stood up.

Jungkook started, turning into a tight squeak as you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him down.

“Lift up your shirt with both hands.”

He did was he was told, revealing his toned abs and the lower half of his pecs, biting his lip, clutching onto his tank top, ears turning red as he craned his head to look down at you. You didn’t give him any satisfying response. His tan skin seemed to glow under the overhead lights. You studied his face.

Reached up and began to rub his erection through his underwear.

“A… ah…”

“Gonna make you cum like this.”

He shook his head quickly. “P… Please, no…”

You felt him swell and twitch under your hand. He was pretty big. Thick. Pretty boy with a pretty dick, probably. You rubbed the head with your palm, feeling his pre-cum leaking through the thin fabric. He wasn’t kidding when he said you made him feel some kind of way.

“Why not? Make you cum in your underwear and then you have to go all the way home covered in it. All dirty, just for me.”

His handsome face twisted with sinful pleasure at your suggestion, whimpers in his throat. His cock jerked with need, wanting it.

“O… Okay. Whatever you want.”

So obedient.

“So obedient, Jungkook,” you purred, rubbing faster.

He nodded. “For you. Only for you. Just for you.”

Was it just saying those things because he thought that was what you wanted to hear? Or was that how he actually felt? Surely not the latter, considering he didn’t really know you. You leaned over him, placing your free elbow on the table to stabilize yourself. You hadn’t even kissed him.

“You’re so hard for me,” your drawled, lowering your head, letting your warm breath float down onto his skin. “You want to cum for me, don’t you?”

“Y… yes, please…”

“You want to be my toy?”

You pressed your lips to his bellybutton, feeling the smoothness of his skin, tasting it. He moaned at your kiss, your swift tongue flickering out to that delicious skin, whining when your teeth nipped at the softness. Fuck, he tasted so good that you wanted to mark him. Looked so fucking good that you wanted to mess him up, mar him with temporary imperfections on the perfection that was Jeon Jungkook.

“Yes…”

With breathless, lustful conviction.

You licked up his abs, increasing the intensity and speed of rubbing the engorged head of his cock, the pre-cum already soaked through and creating a slippery surface, turning Jungkook’s pitched whines to deep moans, a melody that filled up the entire lecture hall until was the only thing you could hear, Jungkook’s moans as you bit his skin, his moans as you sucked on his skin, moans as you kissed the hard muscle, cries for more at you left marks, pleading for you, sweet and beautiful, clutching his shirt so tight that his knuckles were white, the black tattoos of his right hand standing out, his cock throbbing in your hand, his hips rising to hump your palm, your name on his lips, over and over and over.

“Gonna… gonna cum…” he panted, sniffing slightly, cheeks flushing pink. “Gonna cum like how you want me to, all over my underwear…”

Your fingertips touched his side, seeing him stiffen and then shudder at your gentle caress.

“Do it,” you murmured. “Show me how good you are at listening, Jungkook.”

He bit his lower lip, jaw clenching, squeezing his eyes shut, tipping his head back into the tabletop, whining your name in his chest, your palm working him, slick and hot and hard, pulsating under your roughness. With a sharp moan, his lower lip popped out of his teeth, dark red and swollen, small mole quivering.

“F-Fuck…!”

You felt it and heard it, the unmistakable jolt and squelch as his orgasm splattered inside his boxer briefs, drenching the fabric, drenching your hand, his embarrassed whines as he realized what he had done but still humping your hand, forcing out every last twitch of dribbling cum, causing you to smear it everywhere, coating the sensitive head and adding to the pleasure, his cheeks flushed red, eyes squeezed shut to savor the pleasure and avoid looking at you.

“Shh…”

You crawled onto the table, still holding his cock through his soiled underwear, squeezing it, free hand slipping under his head and lifting him, his eyes weakly opening, scared and anxious, but all you did was lean down and kiss him, pressing your lips to that pure softness, exhaling his name into his mouth, his scent staining your hand, his cologne filling your nose, your whisper in his throat.

“Time for you to go home.”

-

Jungkook thought you would tell everyone.

You did no such thing.

Instead, you ignored him.

He would see you three times a week and, three times a week, you arrived with the professor and left with the professor. Jungkook tried much harder to attend classes, but you seemed not to care either way. He would come to the front and collect his assignment and find that you had marked it up exactly like everyone else, red marks all over his incorrect answers. You didn’t even look in his direction.

The next exam was coming up quickly.

Part of him considered skipping exam day to have one-on-one time with you again.

“Jungkook.”

He jumped, jerking his head towards the hall, confused. Somehow, he had heard your voice. Or rather, did he imagine it? His teeth sunk into his lip, placing a hand on his forehead, confused. His head was confused. He couldn’t think straight. Why had he done such an embarrassing thing with you? Even you had told him to leave and report you. But Jungkook just couldn’t. Not then and not now. He had asked for it.

He still wanted it.

Nobody knew. Everybody thought he was a cocky, womanizing playboy. And he was, but not because of the sex. It was only because he was bored and that was all he could get. There was power in being on top.

And there was power in letting go.

You were bad for him.

He was a good guy.

You were a bad bitch.

And nobody knew.

A hand slapped down on his shoulder and yanked him around, the loose short sleeves of his yellow tropical shirt flaring out, making his sunglasses rattle on his face. You narrowed your eyes at him. Instant shivers down his spine at your stern gaze.

“Are you deaf?” you snapped. “I’ve been calling your name for the past minute.”

“I… S-Sor–”

You waved a hand dismissively, grabbing his right hand and slapping down a post-it into it.

“Chapters for the exam, including the date and time. Do not miss it this time. I will not let you make it up and fail you on the spot.”

You turned on your heel, letting go of his hand.

His left one shot out and circled around your arm, his rings pressing into your skin.

“Wait.”

You jerked your head towards him, glaring sharply. “Don’t touch me.”

And you yanked your arm out of his grasp, but his legs made the choice for him, following your swift strides, his backpack hanging off one shoulder, clutching the post-it and his last strands of sanity.

“Please, wait.”

“What?” was your curt response, not looking back at him.

“Please do it again,” he gasped breathlessly, unable to stop himself.

“Do what?”

“Have your way with me.”

You stopped walking.

Jungkook walked straight into your back and banged his nose on your head. He winced, stepping back and rubbing it gingerly. He didn’t register you turning around until it was too late and you were right in his face. You raised your chin and eyebrow simultaneously.

“No.”

He blinked rapidly, his tinted sunglasses halfway down the bridge of his nose.

“W… Why? Did you not like it? Was… was I bad?”

You let out an amused scoff.

The side of your lips curved upwards.

He had made you smile, even if only a little bit. Just that small thing was enough to feed his courage.

“I…” Jungkook coughed, clearing his throat before he spoke again, voice still a soft whisper in his embarrassment even though no one was around to eavesdrop. “I can be better. I can do better.”

Silence.

He thought you were going to walk away again.

You reached up and plucked his glasses off his nose. Folded them neatly and tucked them in his tropical shirt pocket. Then your eyes found his again and he knew something was different. He could see you clearly now, his vision no longer clouded by sienna.

Now, Jungkook could no longer stop it.

He could feel it all over him, coursing through his veins, arousal like fire. Something about you and something about him. Jungkook could sense the danger, but he didn’t want to run even though he knew he should. He had heard the rumors surrounding you. They could be true.

And yet.

“I want it,” Jungkook breathed, inviting himself into the danger. “I want you. I want to be your toy.”

Your discerning expression didn’t change.

You reached up and gripped his chin, digging your nails into his soft skin.

He whimpered in his chest, moving closer to you.

“What’s my name?”

His brows furrowed, saying your name hesitantly.

You pulled his chin down so he was eye-level.

“Next time you say my name, I will be choking it out of you.”

-

Everyone thought Jeon Jungkook was the kind of guy to grip your wrist with his left hand and your throat in his right, his lips against your ear and his sweaty chest against your back as you slapped your ass into his crotch and fucked yourself with his rock-hard cock, his smirk in your ear as he provided you with a certain type of encouragement.

“That’s right, you want this dick, don’t you? Show me. Prove to me you want it.”

His fingertips tightening against the sides of your neck, listening to your pathetic cries and moans as you tried to squirm against him, brain running out of oxygen due to lack of blood, running out of thoughts, running out of pleas as Jungkook gripped your wrist, deep snarl against your hair as he roughly finished himself off using your body because that’s all you were, someone to be used by him and nothing more, neck suddenly released with a breathless gasp and shoved face first into the sheets with his right hand splayed on your back, his tattoos and your orgasm crashing down on you, his growls staining the air and a fierce jerk of his hips to spill into your tight hole and leave you moments after, nothing but a discarded toy in his eyes.

You thought.

That was what everyone thought when Jeon Jungkook stood on stage, flipping his dark violet microphone between verses and smirking like a devil, truly in command of every thought and every pair of eyes on him, surrounded by a heavy bass line and deafening drums, guitar solo tearing through the moment to emphasize the next of his lips nearing the mic again, entrancing the crowd with his beautiful lips and talented tongue.

No one knew.

-

You were riding him hard and fast, torn condom wrappers and used condoms littering his bed, back-to-back orgasms, his head pressed into his pillows, your hand around his neck, the other leaving long lines down his chest, scratching him so hard that it dotted red, blooming lines of pain.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, f-fuck…”

Jungkook was hoarsely whispering, clutching his sheets, black hair soaked with sweat, raising his chest to your nails, whimpering, punish me, punish me, punish me, and you muttered plainly with a sharp edge, you talk too much, your grip tightening again, pressing onto the sides of his neck, cutting off the blood flow, and Jungkook moaned gratefully, eyelids fluttering, the slap of your hips to his louder and louder, filling up his whole bedroom, rattling his bedframe, fucking him so hard he was slowly sliding up to his headboard.

Your name fell from his lips in pure ecstasy, back arching to shove his whole length fully into you, thick and hard and twitching with need, your slick walls clamping down on him, fitting to him with a hiss. He began to match you, breathless, lightheaded, world hazy, moaning from deep in his chest, I love you, and your reply was only tightening your grip, your hand and your pussy, harder, harder, harder.

“Aren’t you such a good guy?” you scoffed sarcastically, letting up for only a second to let him reply, blood rocketing back into his brain, flooding him with oxygen, and Jungkook sucked in a lungful of air, reeling.

“N-No…” he panted. “You’re the good girl… you’re always s-so… so good to me…”

His eyes locked with yours hazy with lust and love. You almost looked away out of instinct.

“You a-always remember… what I like…” he managed to choke out.

-

You left him when you were done using him.

You pretended he didn’t say those words to you. There was no point in acknowledging the nonsense that he said in the middle of being choked and barely functioning. You tapped your pencil against your textbook.

You caught yourself thinking about him.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your eyes flickered to the clock. Late at night on a Friday. He was probably at a bar. You watched the second hand of your plain silver clock tick, tick away. You never asked to watch him and his band perform even though Jungkook always made it a point to text you the address and the time.

It was obvious Jungkook didn’t want you to be his secret.

He wasn’t really your secret either. You just saw no benefit to letting anyone know there was a connection between you and Jeon Jungkook. After all, you were just using him.

You stopped tapping your pencil.

Stared at the second hand.

Tick.

Heard the voices of the rumors poisoning you, saying the things they said.

She thinks she’s so much better than everyone else because she’s a nerd.

The only reason she has good grades is because she fucked that one professor.

I heard she dated him.

I mean, there’s a reason he left in the middle of the semester, right?

He had a wife!

Snap.

Your eyes flickered down.

The tip of your pencil lead rolled across the page, leaving tiny pinpricks of granite.

There was never any evidence because nothing happened. Nothing happened between you and said psychology professor. He left in the middle of the semester because his wife had a miscarriage and he wanted to be with her. It had nothing to do with you. You had long discussions with him about life and existentialism, hanging out during his office hours.

Sometimes, you felt bad.

Had you kept him from his wife? Would it have not happened if he just skipped his office hours and didn’t spend them talking to you? These were irrational, foolish thoughts. They made you guilty even when there was nothing to be guilty about.

He was a nice guy, mid-thirties. Everyone liked this professor.

They blamed you because they didn’t know.

Only you knew, because he told you with tears in his eyes and thanked you for being his student.

You didn’t tell anyone, because he did not owe you an explanation and you were not going to divulge someone’s personal business that they had shared with you in confidence. You watched your reputation crumble and fall apart, watched friends ostracize you, because you didn’t tell them anything and they didn’t believe you. You watched yourself turn bitter and hateful.

Just tell the truth.

There was no truth to be told.

You put your pencil down.

Closed your eyes.

Remembered Jungkook’s face.

-

Your hands were in his hair, pulling hard. His hot breath was in your face, arms shaking as he held himself up, fucking you into his mattress with whines in his chest, begging you, begging you, begging you.

“P-Please… let me cum, please…”

You liked to watch the sweat clinging to his high cheekbones and neck, jaw glistening with tension, feeling his strong body between your legs, his twitching hardness sliding into you repeatedly in rough, hard smacks, squeezing him every time he was fully sheathed inside you, vibrations coursing through you every time he came down.

“Not until I’m done,” you growled and he whimpered, pleading look in those brown doe eyes, black pupils expanded, unable to cum because a vibrating cock ring was restricting his orgasm, keeping him hard but unable to climax, sending thundering pleasure through him and into you. He watched helplessly as you gripped his hair, hissing sharply as another wave of pleasure overtook you, closing your eyes to savor it, savor his swollen cock twitching inside you as he felt the intense massage of your pussy walls closing around him, throbbing around the head and driving him insane, moaning pathetically because he couldn’t follow suit no matter how desperate he was.

Jungkook didn’t ask if you were done.

He just kept going because you told him he couldn’t cum until you were done.

And you didn’t say you were done.

You stared into those brown orbs, hazy with lust and full of conviction to be good for you.

Desperate to be the best and the only one, not knowing there was no one else because no one else wanted you like the way Jeon Jungkook wanted you.

“Pull out.”

“B-But…”

“You heard me,” you exhaled, throbs of pleasure still trembling through you. Your hands slid down, cupping his chin, nails digging into his sweaty cheeks. “Obey.”

With a pained whine, Jungkook obeyed, pulling out of you, his cock covered in your juices, wearing a condom and the black cock ring. You reached over with one hand to press the button on the remote to turn in off.

“Take it all off. Let me see your cock.”

He reached down and slowly pulled the cock ring off, taking the condom with it, whimpering at the sensitivity, his tone hitting a lovely pitched groan as the silicone squeezed the base of the head. His whole body was shaking as it fell from his hands, the veins on his length standing out, head purple-red and angry, white pre-cum slowly beading at the tip, and his face, looking down at you, waiting for your next move.

Cock waiting to be used.

You tapped your chest.

“Cum on my tits.”

“B-But–”

You cut him off.

“You’re going to cum on my tits and then you’re going to lick it off while I watch.”

-

He listened.

Jungkook straddled your waist with his thighs, muscular and defined, right hand wrapping around his cock, sweat making the tattoos on his forearm and shoulder glow in the low light, smelling like sex and musk, his core tightening as he touched his overstimulated length, using the lube of the condom and his own pre-cum to add to the pleasure as he began to stroke himself, moaning as you lifted your hands and cupped your breasts, pushing them together, his eyes on the curve of your cleavage and points of your hard nipples sticking out, and then your face, an indifferent look with a cocked eyebrow, taunting him, unimpressed by his timid grip on his cock, so he squeezed harder, tighter, embarrassing cries falling from his mouth, living for the smirk that slowly began to form on your lips.

It empowered him somehow, that smirk, the little inkling of satisfaction that Jungkook wanted, needed, craved, knowing he was doing well, being good, furiously pumping his aching cock over your pressed-together tits and he couldn’t last, couldn’t help it, too overstimulated and too turned on, too in love with this to prevent himself from tipping over with a hot gasp, spilling streams of sticky white lines over your breasts, spreading them everywhere, making a huge mess because he wanted a huge mess to clean up, shoving the head into your cleavage and shuddering at the sensation of warmth to his scorching heat, able to feel the pulse of the engorged tip dripping out what was left, shivers up and down his spine, the words falling from his mouth that he never stopped saying even though you never acknowledged them.

“I... l-love you…”

He stayed like that for nearly a full minute, but you didn’t tell him to get off.

His eyes were closed, savoring the feeling.

Slowly, Jungkook gingerly removed himself, lowering his body over yours, tongue sliding out, touching your skin covered in his cum, his taste, mine, no one else’s, him on you, lapping it up, salty and bitter and yet he loved it, loved that you told him to do it, loved that you let him paint your skin with his orgasm and now his saliva. He didn’t care that you never said anything to his I love you, didn’t care that you seemed to pretend he never said it, because he would continue saying it when he was with you, hopeless as it was.

It was the small things that kept him going, sucking his own cum off your nipple and wrapping his lips around it, hearing your soft sigh of pleasure, feeling the tap on his thigh that instructed him to scoot up, the small thing of your hand closing in on his spent cock, sending sparks of pain but also pleasure, moaning into your skin as you massaged his balls with your fingers, knowing that he could take more pressure and roughness because he had just came, the small thing of your thumb rubbing the sensitive slit, his face pressing into your breasts, smearing his cheek with his cum and saliva, sliding across your slick skin because of the intensity of the high it gave him, the pleasure and the pain, his right arm coming up to wrap around you, tattoos cradling your torso.

“I love you…” he whispered to your racing heart under his ear, lost in the rhythm of your heartbeat and the firmness of your touch. Jungkook did not care if you hated him saying it.

He would continue saying it as long as he was with you.

-

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing…?”

“Hmm.”

He placed his hand over the bottom of his phone and smiled at the cute girl that was talking to him at the bar.

“Sorry. I have to take this call. It’s important to me.”

He didn’t hear her response, because he backed away, bowing lightly, pressing his phone back to his ear.

“Ah, never mind, Jungkook.”

“No, no. What is it? Tell me.”

“You’re at a noisy place. It’s Saturday night.”

Jungkook pushed through the people, mumbling his apologies and straining to hear your voice over the thundering bass. “I finished. Well, we finished. We’re only drinking. I can leave at any time. I’ll just text the guys to bring my equipment back for me. Where are you?”

“Forget it.”

He opened the door of the club as the dial tone rang in his ear.

Looked up.

Your hand dropped to your side. You were still in your white dress shirt and navy skirt, dressed exactly like you were when at school minus the blazer. Jungkook’s eyes widened. He was in a torn-up long-sleeve shirt with the right sleeve removed, showing off his tattoos. His black hair was wild and half-wet, and he was wearing tight leather pants.

You clicked your tongue.

“I said forget it,” you repeated hollowly.

You sighed and turned around, skirt swishing in your wake.

“Wait, I’ll come with you–”

“Go back to where you belong, Jungkook.”

His hand closed around your forearm, holding tight.

“I belong with you.”

You stopped walking, silent.

“What is it? Tell me.”

You scowled. “It’s dumb.”

“So am I, remember?” he chuckled, his hand slipping down, squeezing yours. “I’m not very good at school.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment. Cars and people brushed past, but Jungkook was focused onto on your stillness, watching your eyes seemed to be thinking about many things. You hadn’t pulled your hand out of his yet. By now, Jungkook knew that if you didn’t want something, you wouldn’t be shy about telling him right away.

You started walking again. Jungkook was still holding your hand.

“It was just a moment of weakness,” you mumbled under your breath.

“A guy…?”

You didn’t answer.

Jungkook squeezed your hand. “It’s okay,” he murmured tightly. “I understand.”

He did not. He wanted to cry.

Your eyes shot to him, pinning him in place. “You don’t understand, Jeon Jungkook. You understand nothing.” You pulled your hand out of his and Jungkook let go, trying to hold his pain, trying not to breathe because he was preparing himself for the inevitable, the moment you were going to break his heart and, if it was right here and right now, then so be it, because he had said how he felt repeatedly and there was nothing more he could do than that.

He loved you so, so bad.

Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, that it was madness, but he did anyway.

But you surprised him.

Your sharp gaze softened.

“You know what they say about me. You have to know,” you exhaled, shaking your head. “You must know the rumors.”

Good girl gone bad.

Jungkook frowned. “About you and the professor?”

He watched your jaw clench.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Your eyes shifted, not quite looking at him.

“Whether something did or didn’t happen, what does that have to do with me?”

And now you looked at him, guarded, not letting him know your thoughts.

“You…” He swallowed, trying to press the lump down in his throat. “You’re just using me, right? It doesn’t… doesn’t really matter, because in the end I don’t matter to you anyway… right?”

He did not want to cry and yet he did, because he knew he loved you. It was the small things, the way you never let up on him even in class, the way you picked days that were never the weekend and never before exams, the way you would brush your fingertips on his knuckles before leaving when you thought he was asleep, the way on the last time, the last time you were together, that you pressed your lips to his forehead when you thought he was asleep, running your fingers through his hair.

Jungkook was standing outside this bar and there were people he knew walking past, seeing you and him, but he kept his eyes on you, because the only one that mattered was you.

The one he belonged to was you.

He had decided that when he climbed onto the table that day.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and let out a heavy breath. “If people say things about you, then they say things about you. Whether it’s the truth or not doesn’t change the fact I love you. It doesn’t make me love you less,” Jungkook said, speaking at his usual volume, because there was no reason to whisper the truth. “Even if it’s pointless and crazy, I want to be with you until the day you don’t want to be with me.”

His smiled and blinked back tears.

“Even if that day is today, I will never regret it.”

In this cruel summer, you could have ruined his reputation. You could have told everyone the kind of person he really was and you didn’t. You could have spread embarrassing stories of the things you made him do and you didn’t.

Even if he didn’t matter to you, Jungkook was confident that you weren’t a malicious person.

You rubbed your forehead. “The rumors will come to you.”

Jungkook laughed. “So what? I heard a rumor that I removed two ribs so I could suck my own dick. I admit, I considered doing it after hearing that.”

You scowled, but Jungkook only smiled in return. He could see the tension falling from your face with his comment. You clicked your tongue and tilted your head, as if to say, can’t be helped.

“There’s no other guy,” you muttered. “There’s just you and you’re dumb.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly, confused.

“You say it over and over and make me think about it all the time.” You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not a good girl. People pushed me away and I stayed there instead of trying to repair the burned bridges. I don’t even think I want to repair them. Who knows what will happen next? I don’t think it would be a good idea to put you through that shit.”

You sucked on the inside of your cheek, looking at him apologetically.

“You’re not the bad boy everyone says you are. You’re a good guy. You should find a good girl.”

Is that what you think? Jungkook chuckled, taking out his hand and rubbing his nose thoughtfully.

“I don’t want a good girl.”

He stepped toward you, lowering his hand and his head so that he was eye level with you.

“I love a bad bitch who can push me around and makes me their toy.”

He tilted his head, small curve on those beautiful lips, tiny mole underneath appearing with every smile.

“Which can only be you, you know.”

Jungkook didn’t try to kiss you. He only wanted to look into your eyes so you knew his conviction.

“I love you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you say it.”

He nodded. “And I’m going to keep saying it until the day you leave me.”

Silence.

Ah.

Your eyebrow lowered and you gave him an indifferent look.

“Hm. I wonder when that will be, Jungkook.”

You leaned in, but before you kissed him, he heard the whisper against his lips, felt the shape of yours as they brushed against his, words he prepared himself to never hear from you, words that he thought you would never say, and that was fine with him, because you showed it, and that was enough.

He thought.

“I love you.”

And then your lips on his and his tears fell onto your cheeks because Jungkook wanted to cry all this time and he could not stop now, knowing that he was so, so in love with you and you finally, finally said it back to him.

--

masterpost

[carolrance]

i keep doing things

y’all know my feelings towards helen wearing that blazer so here’s some more lol. also i just love the boating/why bit.

[ridiculously-over-obsessed]

Only a short one today because I’m lowkey a little ill (idk with what all I know is it’s not c*vid but I am gross and snotty) and so very tired, but I’m still cranking these out because I’m enjoying writing them, and tbh it’s all I’ve got time for this week so I hope you’re enjoying them!!! 🥰💖

DAY TEN: GHOST

Beca sat crossed long on the end of the bed in the same way she did every night, watching Chloe get ready for bed. They’d had the same routine for the last ten years, Beca would change whilst Chloe put their kids to bed, and then Beca would sit and watch her beautiful wife strip down all the barriers that she put up for other people until she was simply the Chloe Beale that Beca had fallen in love with, the Chloe that only she got to see.

“Lucas won his Little League game today.” Chloe smiled softly as she took the earrings from her ears, “You should have seen his face light up when he realised he’d hit a home run Becs...”

“I wish I’d been there!” Beca beamed, “My little man, a rising baseball star... his grandpa would be so proud.”

“He’s dead set on becoming a professional baseball player...” Chloe giggled as she shook her head a little, pulling a makeup wipe from the packet as she began to clean her face, “But then again last month he was really into planes and wanted to become an airline pilot so... who knows.”

“He’s eight Chloe, let him dream...” Beca rolled her eyes a little, still looking at her wife with nothing but adoration and affection, “He can be anything he wants to be.”

“Lexi’s still upset about that whole mess with Adam, she’s been moping around the house all week...” Chloe sighed softly, “I hate seeing her so upset, she’s only fourteen, she shouldn’t be feeling like this so early in her life.”

“I’m going to wring that kids neck if I ever get my hands on him...” Beca growled softly, “I’ll show him what he gets for cheating on my daughter.”

Chloe laughed softly, starting to undress as she shed the form fitting shirt and smart pants she wore to work, her blazer and heels long since gotten rid of when she had first gotten through the door.

“I know, I know, you’d kick his ass...” She mumbled, “At least you can, I’d get struck off quicker than you could blink for hitting a student, even if it’s what he deserves.”

“You can just fail him, hold him back a year so he can be with kids of the same maturity level.” Beca smirked a little, running her hand through her hair, “You always did prefer the kill them kindness approach anyway.”

Chloe sighed softly as she pulled in her sweatpants, climbing into the bed as Beca moved herself to lie next to her. There was no safer, more comforting place in the world than their bed, lay here like this next to each other after a long day.

“I miss you.” Chloe whispered, tears glittering in her eyes as she bit her lip, “I wish you were still here.”

“I am.” Beca swallowed against the lump in her throat, “I’m always here Chlo, I promise.”

Beca reached put to cup Chloe’s cheek like she always did, hoping beyond hope that this time would be different, but as always her fingers passed right through Chloe’s cheek, Beca’s heart breaking again. She just wanted to be able to touch Chloe again, to talk to her, to tell her that she was still here, right here where her family needed her the most.

“The kids are doing better, it’s been nearly eighteen months but they’re getting there... but me?” Chloe sniffed hard, her hand moving through Beca where her heart once lay in her chest, to rest on what used to be her side of the bed, “I put on a brave face for work, for Lexi and Lucas, for the Bellas but... it hurts as much as the day I got the call you were in that accident.”

“I’m sorry.” Beca bit her lip, “I’m so sorry Chloe... I hate that you’re in pain, that I can’t comfort you, that I’m right here and you don’t know it...”

“I love you.” Chloe sighed heavily, grabbing the pillow that still smelt vaguely like Beca and pulling it into her chest, “I love you so much Becs....”

“Momma?”

Chloe quickly wiped at the tears on her face as Lexi’s head appeared around the door, clearing her throat a little, “Hey Lexi, it’s late, what’s up?”

“I- I could hear you crying.” Lexi shrugged a little, “I can always hear you crying, hear you talking to her like she’s still here, but I just... I thought I’d see if there was something I could do. Maybe make you a cup of tea or something?”

“Lex...” Chloe’s voice broke a little as she sat up, “I’m sorry, I never wanted you to know.”

“I know.” Lexi smiled warmly, “But it’s okay that you still miss Mom y’know? Lucas and I do too, you don’t have to pretend to us.”

“When did you get so grown up?” Beca frowned a little, watching as Lexi crossed the bedroom and got into the bed next to Chloe, wrapping her now sobbing mother in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry...” Chloe mumbled into her hair, “I want to be stronger than this for you, I’m your mom, I’m the only one you have left, I’m supposed to be filling that gap not putting more worry and pain on you.”

“Momma you’ve been so strong.” Lexi shook her head a little, “You barely shed a tear at her funeral because you were trying to keep it together for the two of us, you’ve been at every parent-teacher conference, every school play, every Little League game... you are running yourself into the ground trying to be everything Mom was, and all we need is for you to be yourself.”

“Yeah!” Lucas had joined them, woken by the strange noises in the night coming from his mom’s bedroom. He dived onto the bed, snuggling into Chloe’s arms as she stroked his head, fingers running through heartbreakingly familiar brunette hair, “We love you Momma. We just don’t want you to be sad and tired anymore...”

“I’m so lucky to have such amazing kids...” Chloe smiled sadly at them both as she managed to wrap them both in her arms, “Mom would be so proud of both of you.”

“I am.” Beca nodded, arms wrapped around herself as she stood at the foot of the bed, watching her family deal with their grief, “I’m so proud of all of you, I love you so much...”

[monkeydlesbian]

this is so random but,,, babysitting fukunaga’s little sister and he just looks at the two of u with the biggest heart eyes,,,that’s all i want tbh

babysitting

fukunaga shouhei x fem!reader

wc: ROUGHLY 1.6k ???

a/n: BRAINROT!!!!! this is literal brainrot i’m in so much pain i don’t know whether to bite u (affectionately) or kiss u for this. all payne no liam. also i didn’t mean for this to turn into a whole ass fic?? holy fuck i whipped this up in one night LMAO fukunaga brain just took over

warnings: maybe two (2) swear words, the beheading of dolls (just read. it will make sense), reader and fukunaga makeout, NOT PROOFREAD

You’re not exactly sure what you thought you were getting into when you had agreed to babysit Fukunaga’s little sister with him.

Sure, children are a little fucked up. But that’s why they’re so entertaining, right?

Fukunaga’s little sister is about five years old, and the embodiment of the “weird little girl” stereotype, you’ve come to find out. One minute she’s coloring (inside of the lines; really weird) in her jungle themed coloring book, and then the next she’s asking you if you’d like to watch her take the heads off of her dollies.

At first, you chuckled nervously at her and scratched the back of your neck, spitting out a meek: Yeah... haha... sure...

But then the smile she gives you is bright and toothy (or lack thereof; she had lost one of her front ones last week), grabbing your hand and dragging you towards her room. Your previous apprehension leaves you the moment you remember that you were just like her when you were younger.

No pink and sparkly nail polish, no princess playhouse, just you and the dead mouse you found outside that you had brought into the house. You remember your parents not letting you go outside for a week after that.

“Look, they come off so easy!” She squeals, excited, as she turns to you with the body of a doll in one hand and the head of it in the other. You stare at her for a couple seconds before you’re laughing, loud and genuine with your shoulders shaking and head thrown back.

You’re still laughing when you scoot closer to her on the floor, “Can I try?”

She looks at you with wide eyes and an excited smile, “You wanna rip their heads off with me?”

“Yes, if you wouldn’t mind,” you say politely, a little whimsical and formal, a tone that makes her giggle.

You can almost see her vibrating from where she’s sat on the floor before she jumps up, head and arms buried in the bin with all of her toys before she comes back up, another doll in her hand with an almost manic smile on her face.

She stumbles over to you and sets the doll in your hands. It’s a pretty one, with long brown hair and bright blue eyes. Too bad they won’t be attached to its body anymore.

She squeals and giggles again as you yank it’s head off, a loud popping sound following.

“Wasn’t that fun?!” She asks you, sitting down beside you and leaning her head on your arm.

“Oh yeah!” You confirm, reaching your hand around to pat her hair, giving her a playful scratch on the scalp. “Can the heads go back on, though?”

At that, she sighs, a pitiful sound that makes your heart clench. “No... but Mommy always buys me more! She does get mad at Shouhei when he rips them off with me, though.”

You laugh at the mention of her older brother, your classmate, your friend, the guy you really really like.

“That Shouhei would help you with something like that, wouldn’t he?” You ask, not really searching for an answer. It’s not really a question, honestly. More like a musing, a dreamy sigh that escapes your lips.

“Are you Shouhei’s girlfriend?” She asks suddenly, curious, turning to face you as she places her head in your lap.

You gasp at the question before your cheeks and neck start to heat up, like you stuck your upper body in a furnace.

“N-No!” You say, stuttering at the bluntness of her question.

“Oh,” She says; Disappointment laces her tone. “Well, you should be! He really likes you.”

“H- He what?”

“Yep!” She says, her response really not making any sense, but it makes sense to her. She’s smiling like she knows a secret, one that you happen to not know about.

“I— Well— Okay...” You trail off as you think about the boy in question, probably on the couch reading a book or flipping through the channels of the television to pass the time.

Next thing you know, Fukunaga’s mother is home from work to pick up her daughter and take her to her Jujutsu lessons.

She walks into the foyer and takes her heels off, putting on her slippers, and then she’s smiling. Smiling at the sight of Fukunaga’s very pretty friend fixing the belt of her daughters traditional Gi in the living room. Fukunaga sits on the couch, watching them with a little grin. His mother remembers how fond he is of you.

“Hey, bug! You ready to go?” She asks, her smile growing wider at the sunshiny smile her daughter sends her when you finish with her belt.

“Yep!” She beams, before grunting and planting her feet in a fighting stance in front of you, never faltering as you do the same.

“That was amazing!” She exclaims as she relaxes her body, throwing her arms up in the air as she grins at you.

“Why, thank you! I had a wonderful teacher,” You compliment her, grinning as color starts to bloom on her cheeks. Your grin turns into a watery smile the moment she attaches herself to your side, slinging her arms around your waist and burying her head into your hip.

“‘M g’nna miss you, Miss Y/N,” She mumbles against the fabric of your sweatshirt, squeezing you tight in her little arms.

Fukunaga and his mother nearly melt at the sight in front of them. Fukunaga wears a fond smile, one that makes it look like he’s almost daydreaming.

Except he’s not. It’s real this time.

You chuckle at her before you’re squatting down at her level, her arms dropping to her sides as you hold her face in your hands.

“You’ll see me again, silly,” You tease her, grinning as she scrunches her nose up at you. “I’m gonna be annoying your big brother for the rest of my life, so I’ll be here for a while.”

She giggles at that, “Good! He deserves it. He’s a boy, and boys are smelly.”

“That they are,” You and Fukunaga’s mother say simultaneously. Your eyes grow wide once you meet her own, then laughter rings inside of the living room from the two of you.

You stand up now and accept the hug she gives you when she walks across the room.

“Thanks for helping Shouhei today,” She says with a sigh as you pull away, smiling at the sheepish smile of your own.

“It was my pleasure,” You say as you watch Fukunaga’s sister walk over to her mom and cling to her leg. “We had so much fun!”

“I wouldn’t consider ripping the heads off of dolls to be fun, but I’m sure she really appreciates it. I do too.”

Your cheeks heat up at the praise from your crush’s mother as you fiddle with your fingers nervously. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you see Fukunaga suddenly standing up from his place on the couch and walking over to stand beside you, placing his elbow on your shoulder to lean his weight onto you.

The little girl at her moms side seems to get a little anxious standing there, if the tugging of her blazer was anything to go by.

You say your goodbyes to Fukunaga’s sister and his mom, the two of you waving as they walk out the door together.

The door closes shut and now it’s just you and Fukunaga in the house. Silence fills the living room.

Suddenly, he’s grabbing your hand, leading you towards the couch.

Your eyes grow wide when he sits down and next thing you know, you’re being yanked to sit on his lap.

“F-Fukunaga!” You yelp, heat filling your cheeks at the intimate position he put the two of you in.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” He says, joking and innocent-sounding like he didn’t just place his large hands on your hips, rubbing his thumbs above the soft fabric of your sweatshirt.

“You— I— Wha—?” You seem to short circuit at the way he’s looking up at you, smile fond and eyes soft, like you’ve hung the goddamn moon.

“You’re good with her,” He muses, his hands shifting from your hips and over your skirt to rest on the bit of your thighs that’s exposed. “Not many people are.”

“Well— She’s uh— She was like me as a kid,” You nearly choke on your own words when you feel Fukunaga’s hand squeeze the curve of your knee, hooking his hand under it.

“You ripped the heads off of your dolls too?” He asks, an amused smirk gracing his lips.

You laugh, “No, but I did bring a dead mouse into the house one time. I wasn’t allowed outside for a week.”

This time it’s Fukunaga who laughs, eyes scrunched shut and head thrown back against the couch as his shoulders shake under your hands. You would’ve melted at the sight had you not been laughing too.

“Why haven’t I kissed you yet?” Fukunaga asks suddenly as your laughter dies down. He asks it like the question is dumb, like the answer is stupid.

“Why’re you asking me?” You shoot back with another question, trying your best to keep your composure at the feeling of his hands sliding up and down your thighs, barely slipping underneath your skirt for one quick moment.

He doesn’t respond.

Well, technically he does, if you could classify your eyes fluttering closed, his lips on yours, and a hand cradling the back of your head as a response.

His lips move languidly with yours. He’s warm, and you find yourself sliding further into his lap to push yourself closer to him.

A warm, large hand squeezes one of your thighs from under your skirt and you squeak, jumping in his hold. You feel his lips form a smile against yours and you fight the urge to pull away and smack him.

It’s actually Fukunaga who pulls away, but he doesn’t stay away for long, instead dipping his head down to leave kisses across your neck. They’re as light as a feather, barely there but you let out a soft moan nonetheless.

“Want you around here more,” He whispers against your skin. “She likes you, Mom likes you, I like you...”

“And your dad? The fish?” You joke, squeezing his shoulders when you feel his teeth nip at your neck.

“Why’re you asking how my dad and fish feel about you while I kiss you?” He laughs against your neck, his voice louder this time.

“‘Dunno,” You shrug with a sigh. Another moan leaves your lips when he sucks harshly at the column of your throat. “‘S important for me to know.”

He laughs again, “You’re so— Wow.”

“You think?” You giggle, a teasing lilt to your tone. You yelp when you feel a pinch on your inner thigh, pushing his hand out from under your skirt in retaliation.

“Shut up,” He says, no venom to his words. There never will be.

His lips move back up to your own, instantly slipping his tongue into your mouth.

“I’m supposed to be the funny one here,” He sighs these words against your lips, instantly attaching himself back to you once he’s finished.

“Didn’t say that had to change.”

“Shhh,” He shushes you, his tongue dancing with your own once again. “Just let me kiss you.”