#i still feel the same way when i'm in love with someone as i did when i was like 16.

[hanjsquokka]

bed chem.

han jisung × fem!reader — love at first sight, strangers to lovers, non idol! au, based on sabrina carpenter's song bed chem, fluff/smut

summary — you couldn't take your eyes off him since you saw him. even though you talked for mere seconds, you were undeniably in love. good thing he felt the same too.

warnings — alcohol consumption, swearing, explicit sexual content (warnings under the cut), lots and lots of kissing, just a little bit of a situationship

word count — 4.4K

author's note — extremely late birthday post for my favorite man 🩷 bed chem is my favorite song on sabrina's album and jisung just so happened to wear a white jacket for the dicon magazine photos 😻☝️ what a perfect coincidence. this was kinda rushed, but i hope you like it <33

please consider leaving feedback in the comments or reblogs, they really make my day 🫶🏼

minors dni. if you click read, you agree to nsfw content

smut warning — mastrubation (f rec), breast/nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple rounds (2), overstimulation

You couldn't stop staring at him; you probably looked like a creep, but you could care less. The party was in full swing around you, all of the attendees decked up in black and white formal wear, in accordance with the theme of the party your company was holding. It was some anniversary event; you recalled seeing number balloons strung up all over the place along with normal ones. You'd, at first, reluctantly attended, your mishap with your original outfit causing you to borrow one from a friend at the last minute and your favorite pearl necklace snapping when you were putting it on—both seemed like an omen for you to not go.

But boy were you glad you did, or else you would've never met him.

“Han Jisung,” your coworker, Changbin, told you. “He was working at an overseas branch and was recently transferred here.”

Your brain zoned out after that, vision tunneling at the sight of the man in the white jacket, his hair slightly long and styled back with a middle part, although a few strands came loose and hung delicately on the sides of his face. When the light hit just right, you could see a sheen on his lips, making your heart thump in your chest even more. 

“God, just go talk to him. You're practically eye-fucking him in front of my champagne,” Hyunjin, another one of your coworkers, grumbled, his face scrunched up in disgust as he sipped from his glass. Your own glass was forgotten in your hand and most likely would've been spiked if you were at a club from the way it'd been staying in the same spot while you shamelessly gazed at the beautiful man.

“I would, if I had the guts to do it,” you snapped back, your free hand scrunching up the material of your sheer, black dress that you wore over a shorter, tighter one. Your friend told you that you looked hot but, in the presence of so many other elegantly dressed women and men, you felt underdressed.

Your horrible luck struck once again when you looked back at Han Jisung and your eyes met his. Your face flamed red at being caught by him, turning away so your back was facing his direction, and you chugged your champagne.

Both Hyunjin and Changbin laughed at your embarrassment, your scowl only intensifying their amusement. You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole, that you'd miraculously get a phone call from someone, and you'd have to leave because you would not be able to live this down if he questioned you. 

A tap on your shoulder nearly made you jump out of your skin, causing you to turn around so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash, and you were met with a blonde man with freckles dotting his face. “Hey,” he said, his voice deep and rich.

“Hi?” You greeted, your tone confused, wondering who this man was.

“Sorry, I'm Felix,” he offered a hand to shake, which you did while introducing yourself, still feeling as clueless as ever. “Long story short, if you're okay with it... I would like to introduce you to my friend. He's a bit shy.” Your brows furrowed for a moment before you nodded. Anything to save you from your slip-up. “Great.” He gave you a big smile before looking back, seemingly for his shy friend, and called him over.

In a ridiculous twist of fate, the person he called over was none other than the man you were caught staring at.

You wished you could disappear. 

“Okay, so, Ji, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Jisung.” Felix clapped his hands together. “Now stop being an idiot and speak to her,” he added quietly, causing Jisung to fumble with his words and hit the blonde's shoulder, the latter only laughing in response. 

Your heart sped up in your chest when Jisung's gaze met yours for the third time that night, beating so loudly you were sure someone could hear it. Felix gave his friend one more knowing look before he linked arms with Hyunjin and Changbin, making you question if the three of them were close, and walked away to talk to other people.

Your throat felt parched, and you had no idea what to say. Another sip for your fresh glass of champagne while the tension between the two of you increased with every second.

“Right, um, I'm sorry for staring at you,” he finally said once it had gotten almost too awkward, in an accent you couldn't put your finger on, letting out a nervous chuckle, and looked at you with those big, brown eyes, almost making your knees buckle.

“I apologize as well,” you said, your stomach fluttering as his smile widened. “I wasn't trying to be creepy, you just...”

“Caught your eye?” He asked before adding, “Because you definitely did.” You blushed, your body feeling hot and bothered at his sudden compliment. He opened his mouth to say something else, but a ringtone interrupted him, and he muttered a sorry underneath his breath before pulling out his phone from his pocket. “Shit, this is important.”

You smiled. “No, it's alright.” You watched him give you a sort of upside-down one in return before walking away to take his call in a quieter place.

You didn't see him for the rest of the night, much to your disappointment. It was like he vanished into thin air. You couldn't sleep, even after hours of laying in bed after going home (the sun would come up before you would sleep, you thought), your mind replaying the evening again and again in your head like a broken record. For the first time in a while, you felt something so strong for someone you had spoken to for a few moments.

You found yourself scrolling through your social media feed, pictures of the party occupying most of it. You came across a picture in one of Hyunjin's posts with Felix, and a dumb idea struck—Felix was Jisung's friend, right? If you were lucky, which was very unlikely, Felix would have a public profile... which he did! And then going through his following, you should be able to find...

“Aha!” You exclaimed as you landed on Jisung's profile.

The next few hours were spent scrolling through his posts—totally not creepy. Your delusions were increasing by the minute as you got a look into his life and the kind of person he was. He seemed to have stayed in Malaysia before coming to your town; he had a white-furred dog, and he uploaded videos of him playing the guitar and singing every now and then—he could not get any more perfect. The more you saw, the more it cemented in your brain that he was the one. He was perfect for you.

The only problem you had was how you would approach him without looking like a complete stalker. You finally fell asleep like that, drifting off into a deep slumber, your dreams filled with the face of the man you encountered and may never see again.

“No way, no way, no way!” You stared, mouth agape, at your phone screen, your TV show forgotten in the background. You'd woken up late the next day, skipping directly to lunch after freshening up and seating yourself on your couch with a plate of food in your hands. After you finished eating, you decided to check your notifications, swiping on the unnecessary advertisements and spam emails until you saw...

[Unknown, 11:37am]: Hey Y/n! It's Jisung, from the party yesterday. I got your number from Felix. Is that weird? I'm sorry if it's weird 😭 I really like you, and I feel bad our conversation was cut short yesterday. I was wondering if you'd like to hang out sometime. I'd love to get to know you better. If not, that's totally okay; just pretend I never sent this.

You read the message a few hundred times, saving his contact with a heart beside his name, before you mustered enough sanity to reply back to him.

[You, 3:09pm]: Hi Jisung! I'd love to hang out sometime 🩷

The reply was almost instantaneous, another wonderful quality. 

[Jisung 💘, 3:10pm]: Great! I heard this café is good around here. 

[Jisung 💘, 3:10pm]: <sent a location>

[Jisung 💘, 3:11pm]: If you're free, would you like to meet up there tomorrow? Unless you're not, that's okay; maybe I'm being too forward 😭

[You, 3:11pm]: No, not at all! I was thinking of tomorrow too. Sounds great. I'll meet you at around four?

[Jisung 💘, 3:11pm]: Four sounds perfect. See you then!

You had no idea how you managed to sleep that night, excitement flowing through your veins at the prospect of going on a date with Jisung. The next day, you impatiently waited for the clock to strike four. When it finally was time, you got dressed, redid your hair until it was to your liking, and hailed a cab to the meeting spot.

You couldn't believe you were meeting Jisung in a few minutes. Maybe all the bad luck yesterday was worth it. Hell, you'd endure misfortune forever if it meant the two of you could hit off and your relationship would progress from the awkward talking stage you were in. Your thoughts trailed from cute fluffy dates that you and Jisung could have if you started dating to more not PG-13 ideas the more you thought about him. It was wrong; you knew that. You hardly knew him, and yet you were acting like a horny teenager just because you thought he gave you heart eyes—in your defense, it had been a while since you were with someone, and your heart just couldn't help but wander down the gutter because this guy... this guy seemed like he liked you just as much as you did. He put in the effort of talking to you and everything—that had to count for something, right?

Your anxiousness made you arrive outside the café ten minutes beforehand, exiting the Uber with a cluster of nerves in your stomach. You opted for a warmer outfit, seeing that autumn had begun and the air had turned slightly crisp in the evenings. A woolen sweater tucked into your jeans, it was casual enough for a café date (was this a date?). 

After what seemed like hours (five minutes), you saw Jisung exit a car and come up to you in a light jog. “Sorry, did I keep you waiting?” You swallowed nervously, admiring his outfit choice that looked good on him. You shook your head in response to his question, a smile forming on his face as he stopped right in front of you. “My neighbor's cat snuck into my apartment, and it was this whole thing,” he said, waving his hands in the air while shaking his head in disbelief. “Anyways,” he went to the door of the café and opened it, “after you.”

You blushed and walked inside, thanking him for holding the door for you. The two of you sat at a table after ordering your drinks and settled into a less awkward silence than the previous day.

“Do you like coming here often?” You asked, looking around the place. You'd never seen this café before, probably because it was out of the way in your commute route from your apartment to your office. 

Jisung nodded. “Yeah, this place makes some seriously good coffee. My apartment is a few blocks away, so I usually drop by for a to-go cup in the morning before work.”

“Right, I never got to ask, which department do you work in?”

“Marketing. I worked in the Malaysia branch until a few weeks ago.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “Explains why I haven't seen you at the office before. I'm in the IT department.” You looked at the table. “I would've remembered if I saw someone like you,” you added, smiling as you saw the tips of his ears turn red.

“You're cheeky, aren't you?” He chuckled. 

A waiter brought your drinks—a pumpkin spice latte for you, a fall special that you adored, and an iced Americano for him. You took a few sips of your latte, your insides warming up from the hot coffee.

“So, Y/n, what do you like to do outside of work?” Jisung asked, brushing his bangs to the side to see better. His hair was much more unruly than it had been at the party; it added a boyish charm to his persona. 

“Not much, truthfully,” you admitted with a sheepish laugh. “I go to a pottery class on the weekends, but I'm not that good at it... Most of my masterpieces are deformed pots and mugs.”

Jisung laughed, his eyes crinkling as he did. “You'll get better at it! I sucked at playing the guitar when I first started, and now I'm not bragging, but I do play pretty well.”

“Really?” Liar, you knew he played well. You spent a good amount of time watching the guitar covers he posted on his account before you slept. “You'll have to show me sometime.”

“Even better, I'll teach you.”

Time passed by quickly, the two of you talking about whatever you could think of until you had to part ways. Despite the fact that there wasn't any solid confirmation that you're dating, you could tell he really liked you, which made your heart fuzzy. 

For the next few weeks, you both called and texted each other, taking a few detours at work just to see the other, only to see that they had done the same as well, making you laugh. Jisung was the only thing on your mind. His face, his deep voice, the way his face would flush whenever you made a teasing comment on the smirk that would tug at his lips whenever he did to you. You were dancing around each other on the topic of commitment, neither of you making the move to ask the other if you'd like to be exclusive.

It was frustrating seeing that you went on dates whenever your schedules would allow it—the movies, the park, anything, to be honest. You spent the day beside him and then the night with your hands between your legs, his name rolling off your tongue embarrassingly as you came around your fingers.

It was getting comical how your relationship was at a stalemate for weeks. Even Hyunjin and Changbin were pestering you to make the move so you'd stop rambling about him while you worked.

One day after work, you were met with Jisung waiting outside the office next to his car, still dressed in his work clothes and looking at his phone. Once you called out to him, he looked up, his face lighting up as he approached you.

"Hi, beautiful,” he greeted, taking your hand in his. “How was your day?”

“It was okay... What are you doing here? I thought—”

“I wanted to surprise you, obviously,” he said, tugging at your hand to lead you to his car. He used his free hand to open the driver's side door and brought out a bouquet of red tulips. You weren't an idiot, and you knew he wasn't one either. The color of the flowers... you knew what that meant, and your heart did a little jump in your ribcage. “And to ask you to be my girlfriend because I've been a coward to do so earlier.” He swallowed. “Will you do me the honor of letting me be yours?” He asked, his voice soft and almost nervous, eyes flitting up to meet yours. 

“I'd love to,” you answered, accepting the bouquet with a flushed face and a smile so wide your cheeks burned. “You're such a romantic, Jisung. These are beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” he flirted, grinning when he saw your reaction. “But seriously, I'm sorry I've been an idiot. I really really really like you, Y/N. Since the moment I saw you. Scratch that, I love you. I know I do.” He squeezed your hand. 

“I love you too.” A million thoughts were exchanged between the two of you as you looked at each other. Your eyes dipped down to his lips, and you bit the inside of your cheek before speaking. “Can I kiss you?”

“Thought you'd never ask,” he muttered, the hand that was holding yours moving to wrap around your waist. Your eyes fluttered close as his face drew closer to yours and his lips finally met your own. The kiss was sweet; you could taste his chapstick, which made your stomach flip. Your arms went over his shoulders, still holding onto the bouquet.

When he pulled away and looked at you with that half-lidded gaze, you swore you would have fainted if he wasn't holding onto you. Another kiss from him took your breath away, this one much deeper and more sensual than the first.

“I won't be able to stop kissing you now that you're my girlfriend.” He chuckled, planting a final kiss on your forehead before pulling away.

“I wouldn't mind that.”

“Really?” He laughed even more. “Good, because you can't stop me. Now, let me drive you home.”

The ride to your apartment was filled with future date plans and spontaneous karaoke once he turned the radio on. You visited each other's houses in the past few months, having a few movie nights, but this time, you wanted—no, needed to take the next step. He parked his car and walked with you up to your flat. When he was about to leave, you stopped him.

“Jisung, why don't you stay over?”

He paused in his tracks. “What?”

“We could order takeout... or make dinner, and tomorrow's the weekend...” You bit your lip, waiting for his response.

“Y/n,” he said, almost hesitantly. “You do know—”

“I want it.” You cut him off. “Just... stay over, Jisung, please?”

He sighed. “You know I can't say no when you ask me like that.” He smiled softly and accepted your invitation, walking into your apartment and kicking off his shoes. Both of you knew what was going to happen, and you were more than ready to have him completely. Once you locked the door behind you and put the bouquet in the kitchen, you felt his hand wrap around your wrist and pull you close. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Your third kiss was completely different, filled with fervor and desire. He pulled you impossibly close, his hands scrunching up the material of your blouse as he tried to taste as much of you as possible, tongue diving into your mouth. He groaned lowly when your hands tugged at his dark locks, making you smirk against his lips, and you did it again. “Mm… baby… You don't know what you're doing to me,” he muttered, his lips ghosting over yours.

“I want you, Jisung. I need you, please.”

“I can't deny my girlfriend when she asks so nicely, hm?” He pressed one more kiss on your lips. And then another, while you navigated clumsily to your bedroom. “God, I've been wanting to fuck you since I saw you in the dress at the party,” he spoke hotly, gaining your skin once you were in the room, peppering kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You let out a sigh, tilting your head to give him better access when you felt his teeth graze your skin. “So pretty.”

“Want you to fuck me too, every time you come here...” You said, your voice breathy as he left a mark at the junction of your neck and collarbones.

“Yeah? You've been thinking about me, baby?”

“Every night,“ you admitted, embarrassment bubbling up inside you when you saw the smirk plastered across his face. “It's not my fault!”

“I know, I know, I'm irresistible,” he said with a laugh and kissed your jaw. “I can't deny that I've been thinking about you too.” His warm breath fanning across the side of your neck sent a shiver down your spine. “A lot of R-rated thoughts. Maybe I could show you.”

“I think I'd like that.”

He smiled, kissing you on your lips deeply one last time before his fingers hooked underneath your top. “Can I?” With your nod of consent, he slowly lifted the fabric off of you, and it fell onto the floor. You could see his pupils dilate as he took in your freshly uncovered skin, which made heat pool between your legs. Every touch of his hands across your supple skin and every feathery kiss of his lips made your mind go more and more hazy, even though he hadn't even touched you that much. He tentatively gave your breast a squeeze over your bra, making you inhale sharply. He did it again, rolling his thumb over your nipple. 

You hadn't even noticed his other hand on your back until he unhooked your bra and it fell down. A red tinge formed on your face as Jisung practically drooled at the sight of you half naked, his mouth latching onto your nipples while one of his hands toyed with the other and his left trailing down your body to your ass, squeezing the flesh, making you meal. Your knees buckled as his tongue swirled around your bud, nipping at the delicate flesh. He did the same to the other side, drawing more and more quiet gasps from you.

It wasn't before long; both of you were naked and lying on the bed, him giving open-mouthed kisses sloppily along your skin while his fingers toyed with your entrance, making you moan and arch off the bed. He sliced you open, preparing you for the next step—the one thing you've been wanting for weeks.

“So wet already.”

“All for you.”

“All for me, hm?” He repeated. “I need to fuck you, baby. Been dying to feel you,” he said with a groan, kissing between the valley of your breasts, your heart thundering in your ribcage as he guided you to spread your legs. “Are you ready, love?” You nodded, unable to speak, feeling his heavy cock press against your inner thigh. He aligned himself with your cunt before pushing in slowly, letting your snug walls adjust to him as he sank deeper and deeper, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, until he was fully inside. It was too much and too little all at the same time. A peck on your forehead brought you back, and you signaled for him to start moving.

It was mind-blowing; the sensuality of his thrusts made your breath hitch. Soon, your moans filled the room in symphony with his groans and whimpers as your walls sucked him in more and more, drinking in his soul. His head hung over his shoulders, hair falling over your skin as he kept thrusting into you over and over again, making your toes curl as he repeatedly brushed against that spot inside you that made your mind go blank. 

“Fuck, you're so tight,” he grunted. “So fucking tight, so good for me.” You moaned in response, hands clawing at his back, needing something to ground you to this world as he drove you to greater heights.

“Shit, Jisung—” You could feel your orgasm approaching, the band in your belly coiling tighter and tighter.

“I've got you, baby,” he muttered, closing the gap between the both of you again, swallowing your moans as he moved harder, determined to make you cum around him. “Cum for me.” His words were the last push you needed to tumble off the edge, your body merging into him as you came on his cock. You could feel overstimulation kick in as he kept moving inside you, making you whine and dig your nails into his back.

“I'm not done yet.” And within a second, you were flipped onto your stomach, your ass jutted out, and he sank back into again, a loud moan coming from both of you. His movements were much less coordinated from before, more jerky and hasty as he chased his own high while trying to bring you to yours once more. His fingers found your clitoral area, rubbing harsh circles on the bundle of nerves as he drilled into you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed underneath his breath, feeling your walls clench even tighter around you. "Babe—baby, I need you to cum with me, please.” He gasped when you tightened instinctively at his words. “Come on, love.”

The way he could be so sweet and yet so dirty in the way he spoke while he was fucking you from behind, your face pressed into your pillows, muffling the loud moans reverberating in your throat, turned you on even more. You reached your peak once again, from the combined actions of his fingers on your clitoral area and his tip bruising against your spot inside you, clamping down on him as you released, triggering his own orgasm. His hot seed filled you to the brim, and he gave a few last strokes before pulling out his softening dick and letting both of you catch your breath.

After cleaning up, you laid side by side, your breathing still uneven like you ran a marathon. Curled up against his side, you let your body calm down, his arm around you to hold you close as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, brushing the hair out of your face and looking at you with tired eyes and a lovesick smile.

“I'll take you out on a proper date, and then we'll go back to my place, and I'll fuck you in my bed as many times as you want me to,” he promised quietly. “I'll take you wherever you want to go; just stay by my side, okay?”

“I'll always stay by your side. I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/n.” You lifted your head up to kiss his forehead, watching his grin widen, and he squeezed you in his arms. “Yeah, I'm so in love with you,” he said with a giggle. 

Now you could put your mind to rest, knowing you both had really good bed chem as well.

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[letsgetrowdy43]

Midnight magic—

Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

Request: 🐞 with Jack and "i couldn't kiss you all day! let me make up for it now." please <333

Warnings/notes: I'm back to slowly working through the remaining requests!! Also no warnings other than making out!

[Closed] End of summer celebration!!

Midnight at the lake house had become a sacred time between Jack and Luke's best friend. The latest hours of the night were dedicated to quiet confessions of feelings and lust fuelled secret kisses, a stark contrast to the days when they pretended to be nothing more than acquaintances.

Jack had never expected to fall for her. She was Luke's best friend from university, someone he’d known for a few years but never truly seen the way he did now.

At first, she was just the girl who tagged along with Luke, who cracked jokes, who beat him at cup pong a few times every summer.

But then something shifted.

The summer nights grew longer, the air warmer, and suddenly, Jack found himself stealing glances at her whenever she laughed, lingering in the kitchen just to talk to her a little longer. It was almost pathetic how he switched up, going from not caring to feeling the urge to know every little detail about her.

Now, these midnight rendezvous had become their little secret.

When the others were asleep or too deep into late-night card games to notice, they’d slip away. Out into the stillness of the night, the lake reflecting the soft glow of the moon, the world quiet save for the gentle rustle of trees in the summer breeze. It was as if they were out of sight and out of mind to the others, and they loved just how easily it was to sneak away to back in the glory of the other even if it was just for a few moments.

Tonight was no different, Jack had waited all day, watching her from across the table at breakfast, from the dock while they swam, and even at dinner when she sat beside Luke, laughing at his jokes. It had been torture not being able to touch her, not being able to kiss her. But the risk of anyone finding out, especially Luke, was too high. So, they kept their distance, only to find each other again under the cover of night hidden away from the rest of the sleeping housemates.

Jack leaned against the back of the house, hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets, waiting for her to join him outside, where they could talk as loudly as they felt and be as intimate as possible without fearing any unwanted eyes.

She appeared quietly, like always, slipping out the back door, the silhouette of her figure illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light. Her steps were light and careful as she walked towards him, and his heart began to race like it always did whenever she came near, her smile small as his hoodie hung loosely on her frame.

As she approached, she smiled—one that made his chest tighten in a way that only she could. Without a word, Jack pulled her into his arms, pressing her back against the wall of the house, their bodies close, but still careful. He studied her face, a slow grin spreading across his lips.

"I couldn’t kiss you all day," Jack whispered, his voice low, teasing. He gently brushed his thumb against her cheek, the touch sending shivers down her spine, "let me make up for it now." Her eyes flickered up to his, playful and full of the same longing that had been simmering all day, "you think that’s gonna cut it?" she teased back, her voice soft but daring, "you’ve got a lot to make up for, Hughes."

He chuckled, the sound low and rough, as he closed the gap between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that had been waiting for hours to happen. It was slow at first, soft as if he was savouring the moment. But it quickly deepened, his hands tightening on her waist as she curled her fingers into the soft material of his hoodie, pulling him closer like she couldn’t get enough of him.

That is the thing about the little arrangement between them, it was everything. It was silent and hidden, but it held the weight of the world. All the secret touches, the unspoken glances, and everything that remained between them was like ignition that lit this intense sense of romance of fire.

Jack broke the kiss just long enough to murmur against her lips, "Missed you all day." Her breath was ragged as she smiled into the next kiss, "you saw me all day," she said smugly, fully understanding the feeling of needing the other in ways that they couldn't be open about, but she also liked to hear him say it aloud. "Doesn’t count," he whispered back, gently pouting while shaking his head before pressing his forehead to hers, their breath, "not like this."

The world as Jack kissed her again, more slowly this time, savoring every second of it. Each kiss felt like it was full of the things they couldn’t say in front of everyone else, the feelings they had to hide.

His hands slid up her sides, brushing the hem of her sweater as he pulled her closer, kissing her as though he was making up for every hour they’d spent apart. She melted into him, her body pressing against his as hsi fingers found the freshly showered curls at the name of his neck, and for a moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

They pulled away after what felt like forever but was likely only a minute, their foreheads still pressed together, their breathing ragged before she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his jaw and then one to his cheekbone.

"We’re gonna get caught one of these days," she said in between kisses as his arms wrapped around her torso, a teasing lilt to her voice as he tried to bite back a grin. Jack smirked, brushing his lips against her once more before replying, "not tonight, but eventually, most definatley."

She laughed softly, her hands still holding him close as they stood there, the world quiet around them. "I think I'd be okay with that," she mumbled as she weighed out the theoretical pros and cons. "I'd most definitely be okay with it," he shrugged as she grinned at his nonchalantness, loving the idea of being openly able to show his growing feelings for her.

Midnight at the lake house had become their time, a place where they didn’t have to hide, where they could just be. But for how long, they didn’t know.

-

-

-

This was really quickly made so if it's bad don't tell me, I'll cry.

[sgtpeppers]

Okay so the quick version of this is: saw Two Of Us today, adored it even more than I adore the film, the choice to keep them in John's building worked really well to further highlight the mental health message the director talks about in his little note in the programme, the rooftop scene is somehow even more intimate and lovely in this version and the ending is even more painful! I'm gonna write down more under the cut about it all:

Playlist: The playlist before the show/during the interval is everything you would want it to be and it includes Monkberry Moon Delight which I feel like I never hear in public! 

The overall experience was also just super wholesome, one thing I always love about Beatles events is the range of people there it just makes you feel like your part of such a special thing, so shout out to all the old women talking about Paul near me, the middle aged men in their Beatles shirts, and the girl behind me who was sooo excited to be there and I hope she got to meet the cast after like she wanted to! ALSO the Beatles drinks are so funny, idk why Ringo’s is just earl grey tea 😭

Performances: OKAY let’s get into it. So one of my only real complaints about the film is that although I think overall Jared Harris and Aiden Quinn do an amazing job but I do find the quality a little inconsistent (especially the accents) but Richard Short and Barry Sloane are soooo so good, the accents, the little verbal quirks (which also, kudos to the writer as well) and the physicalities are jarringly good at points, especially Barry Sloane’s John. I also feel like a lot of Get Back was watched in preparation because there were so many little things, like the way John plays with his hair that just took me right back to that. Sometimes with fictional Beatles things I’m constantly thinking about how you’re watching two people try to portray these real people, but I definitely found that they were convincing enough that I wasn’t thinking about it too much. 

Outfits: I did find it kinda weird they went for the Get Back looks rather than how they looked in 76, I feel robbed of the New York City vest tbh but they did look great 

Changes from the film: basically they cut out them going for the walk to the park and to Luigi’s and instead John sets up the table for them like they’re in a restaurant in his kitchen. I think it works really well because they play into John not wanting to leave the building, which just adds into that whole mental health thing, and I think it actually makes the rooftop scene more poignant when they get there, because it feels more like Paul has broken through a bit and coaxed him outside, even if it’s baby steps. Anyway, they still have all the same conversations really the script is just chopped up a bit. 

One interesting thing is that the conversation that happens with the fan in Luigi’s still happens, but John sort of pesters Paul about whether he really thinks silly love songs should be number one, and it’s a nice extra layer to Paul’s insecurity which I enjoyed 

Mental health conversations: I think going into it knowing that the director wanted to make this because of the mental health themes, specifically men’s mental health and how having someone to reach out to is so important, is really interesting. They definitely amped up John’s anxiety from the film, his fidgeting and little moments to himself where he’s trying to get himself together were just so palpable, and Paul talking about his depression after the Beatles broke up was even more raw and upsetting seeing it in front of you. My absolute favourite line in the film is ‘I’m thirty-five years old and I still feel like I’ve done something wrong’ and god, my heart just broke seeing it on stage, I think that’s such a common feeling, just that sense that you’re in trouble for something but you’re not really sure what? Anyway, I just loved Sloane’s delivery of it. 

The Kiss: Okay, look I actually don’t care that much about the kiss in the film, I’m glad it’s in there as a little nod to John’s queerness but it really isn’t anything imo, but I liked it a lot more in this! For one thing rather than coming after a little play fight (which is still cute, don’t get me wrong) they do one of their silly dances where they’re spinning each other round etc, so the scene already feels more tender, and then John just kinda grabs him and it goes on a little longer than in the film. I still think it’s far from one of the most intimate moments in the show, but I do think they made it into something more here. 

Rooftop scene: It’s just. It’s everything. They sit right at the front of the stage, facing each other, cross legged and Paul gives him the whole ‘I see a beautiful baby boy speech’ and it’s PERFECT, this was the moment I was most worried about them screwing up and it was perfectly delivered and they have this lovely big hug after it and it made my heart ache in the best way. And idk, if seeing some guy dressed up as Paul McCartney saying that we should focus on fun and get out our own heads and how we don’t have to stay stuck as the kids who were just scared and trying to survive, doesn’t do something for you, then we’re just very different people. 

SNL scene: okay it’s pretty much the same but the way John is sleeping on Paul was everything, it wasn’t just a head on the shoulder he was fully laying back against Paul!! 

The ending: this is just so brutal because Paul doesn’t leave the flat to get his guitar, he borrows one of John’s and so when Yoko calls and John starts doing the whole ‘I wish you were here, you’re the only one who stops me disappearing’ it’s literally…. In Paul’s face. And it hurts. Then at the very end they cut between John on the phone to Yoko and Paul on the phone to Linda, and so Paul says ‘I love you’ to Linda, then John says ‘I love you too’ to Yoko but it sounds like they said it to each other, and then Here Today plays. The fact most people didn’t appear to be crying baffled me quite frankly. 

Yoko: They decided to have Yoko be the one who actually invited Paul, which felt like an odd choice and didn’t really add anything for me, but there we go 

Okay I’m gonna shut up there because this is way too long and I doubt anyone’s read it but ahhhhhhhhh it was so good and you’re just all lucky I can’t text you because my friends have had much more incoherent versions of all this

[vidavalor]

Hello lovely! I'm wondering if you have any thoughts about Maggie in Final1 5? Isn't it weird that she wants to go back to talk to Az and Crowley while Nina's working? Something about it feels off to me.

Hello right back. 💕 There's chamomile mint tea and shortbread since we're on a Maggie theme, if you'd like some. Maggie's behavior from that scene on is super fucking weird, I agree.

Before the milk run-- when Maggie becomes the only involved character whom we lose track of a bit during The Final 15-- versus how she behaves when she returns is so strange as to be something that I consider maybe additional proof that things are not at all what they seem to be in The Final 15.

On Maggie and Crowley's weird Final 15 behavior, a possible meaning to all the allusions to robbery in S2, and what Maggie and Nina might be able to tell us about what happened at the end of S2.

TW: brief mentions of show's non-consensual possession/rape analogy.

Think for a moment about how truly weird Maggie's request for her and Nina to go back to the bookshop in that moment actually is...

It's only been a matter of minutes since Maggie and Nina were basically hostages in the bookshop who were almost killed by Michael and Saraqael. Crowley saved their lives in getting them out of the shop maybe, what? It's been a minute since I rewatched that bit of it but it couldn't have been more than 15 minutes prior?

The beings in the shop but for Maggie and Nina are supernatural and so left magically without using the door but while we the audience know that these people are no longer in the shop because we were watching it, Maggie and Nina do not know that. When Maggie suggests to Nina that they go talk to Crowley and Aziraphale, they have no way of knowing if the beings that just tried to kill them are still in the shop. They didn't even see Aziraphale leave with Whoever Derek Jacobi Is Playing yet because Nina was all "where's the other one?" to Crowley when they arrived back in the shop.

Maggie is literally like: Nina, I know you opened the business you own late and are the only one working right now and have a line of 20 people waiting for their morning, pre-work coffee but what if-- just hear me out-- we just made them wait an indefinite amount of time to voluntarily go back into the place where we nearly died a matter of minutes ago that could still be full of the people who wanted us dead and we did this for no other purpose than just to tell off my beloved adopted godfather and his partner, who just risked harm to save both our lives? And to maybe then also stick our noses into their love lives in return or something?

I mean... WHAT?!?! lol

Consider, even, how even more weird that is when Maggie, just *prior* to having gone to the mini-mart, had never been more on the same page with Nina and never more understanding?

She sacrificed her own want to go sleep behind the counter of her shop to offer to help Nina. It's a big moment of change in their relationship and shows a lot of growth for Maggie. She's gone from someone who is caring but has a tendency to only think about how things make her feel to seeing things from Nina's perspective. She's matured through the season into being someone more ready to be a partner to Nina. Maggie offering to help Nina with her morning rush-- and Nina accepting the help-- is the sweet, romantic moment showing that these two are heading in a positive direction, both individually and together.

When Maggie gets back with the milk, though? After she's been out of our sight for a few minutes? She's behaving very differently.

During S2, Maggie is shown to be a pretty guileless character. She might have the occasional judgemental moment but she's not deceptive or tricky and she really wouldn't hurt a fly. When Maggie comes back from the milk run, though, her insistence on Nina dropping everything and going with her in that moment is not just weird behavior but manipulative in a way that could not be more out of character for Maggie.

Nina has been in an abusive relationship where she was afraid of displeasing Lindsay. Maggie is aware of this, as it's been the subject of multiple conversations between them throughout the season. So, when Maggie gets so bizarrely insistent on Nina dropping her work-- her livelihood, her purpose, her job-- to meet Maggie's demands in that moment? When this isn't an emergency of any kind and isn't at all time-sensitive and there is no objective reason why Nina should be halting her job to do what Maggie wants in this moment? Maggie is being controlling in a Lindsay-like way. She keeps at it, knowing that Nina will give in and agree to go with her because Nina is used to doing that with her partner.

Nina hesitates and isn't sure whether or not to go with Maggie for a moment and I don't really blame her? This is the complete opposite behavior to Maggie before she left for the mini-mart. Maggie is suddenly acting quite a lot like her polar opposite-- the Lucifer-and-Heaven-paralleling Lindsay.

Maggie is also literally on Nina's shoulder like a devil the whole time in the scene in which she's convincing her to step away from the shop and go across the street with her to the other shop for a chat and...

...listen to what we just said there...

...it's a parallel to the thing that Whoever Derek Jacobi Is Playing is doing with Aziraphale, is it not?

So, what happened on the milk run?

Who did Maggie run into at the mini-mart that we couldn't see in the ending of S2 without it giving the game away? I wouldn't be surprised if, on this mirror-happy show, on the other side of learning in S3 that it was The Devil with the coffee in the bookshop in The Final 15, we also had a scene that showed that, while on her milk run, Maggie had a run-in with Sister Teresa's killer.

Did Hastur possess Maggie as part of Satan's plan? Was the idea to use Maggie and Nina to further trip Crowley and Aziraphale towards disaster to get Aziraphale? If so, it kind of half-worked. I'm not convinced that anything Maggie and Nina said to Crowley really mattered-- I think they weren't telling him anything he didn't already know or feel and that it's largely misdirection for the audience. What was effective, though, was the impression Aziraphale got upon seeing them leave as he was coming in.

Maggie and Nina being back in there at this weird time and then rushing out with smiles and comments like that they were "just leaving" and they were sure Crowley and Aziraphale had "a lot to discuss" seem to have led Aziraphale to assume that Crowley had asked them to come back and to the conclusion that he must have done so to tell them of his intent to ask Aziraphale to marry him. It's Maggie and Nina leaving the shop that reinforce to Aziraphale the idea that, when Crowley stands up afterwards, takes off his glasses, and says he supposes he has "something to say", that Crowley is only trying to communicate a proposal and not a plan.

It's what helps-- big time-- to lead Aziraphale to not listen for a shred of coded language for the entire scene. Neither he nor Crowley are listening for that with one another, which is why neither of them can truly understand what the other is saying, but Aziraphale's part of that is really fucked to Hell by the presence of Maggie and Nina in the shop when he came back. That's all pretty suspicious since Maggie was out of our sight for a few moments and came back fixated on the idea that she and Nina needed to go to the bookshop right that very moment and that it couldn't wait.

The Final 15 is a dark parallel to The Baby Swap plot and Maggie and Nina are full of shadows of Sisters Mary and Teresa to a point that the final shots of both of them in the series are mirror images of the final shots of their S1 characters. Nina looking through glass at Crowley departing is the last shot of Sister Mary both in 2008 and 2019, while Maggie's last shot?

To me, it's one of the most eerie moments in the entire series because of how much it visually resembles Sister Teresa's death.

Basically two minutes after we hear about The Second Coming... in the same season where Maggie and Nina's partial-vavoom gives way to a (possessed?) Gabriel saying: the dead will leave their graves and walk the Earth once more... we are shown Crowley and Aziraphale's apparent adopted goddaughter unresponsive on the counter of her shop.

Is Maggie dead?

Is Maggie asleep, like we were led to believe she wanted to do earlier in the episode? Maybe. Is she comatose/unconscious? Maybe. It's just that, best I can tell, she does not take a breath during the shot which I feel had to be intentional on the part of Maggie Service, and she's in the same position as we last saw Sister Teresa in S1...

Then, there's the robbery theme and how Maggie and Nina foreshadow so much of the end of S2 back in this scene here:

In Good Omens, the shop is the character. Maggie is, symbolically, the records she sells. The show also explains that Maggie's shop used to be a part of the bookshop. Now, there are three characters, not two, who are A.Z. Fell & Co.: Aziraphale, Crowley and Maggie. At the same time, Aziraphale is also The Small Back Room. The shops are intertwined as the characters are, essentially, family in the story. The fate of one is the fate of the other, which makes what Maggie and Nina foreshadow when talking about Maggie's shop while trapped together in Nina's not just the fate of Maggie's shop in S2 but also of the bookshop.

Maggie says that if she can't close the door to her shop, someone could walk in and take records. Maggie is the records she sells so, symbolically, this means someone could take Maggie. We got a bit of a preview of that when Shax appeared to get into her mind during the attack on the bookshop and Maggie also became the one who unintentionally "let the robbers in."

These robbers, Maggie frets... they could empty her till-- take all her money on a literal level... take her mind, or maybe even her life, on another. (Not to mention the now chill-inducing use of money-related words and coins with regards to the paralleling Crowley...) These robbers could take forcible ownership of Maggie's shop-- so, of Maggie. Maggie's shop was born of the bookshop... so, they could take forcible ownership of the bookshop, too.

Not just the physical bookshop, though that, too. The symbolic bookshop. Which is not only Aziraphale but Crowley and Aziraphale.

But, if The Small Back Room was originally part of the bookshop, then the bookshop really isn't just Crowley and Aziraphale-- it's Crowley, Aziraphale and Maggie.

If the robbers come for the bookshop, they've also come for The Small Back Room because it is all born of the same, symbolic shop.

Is that what they did?

Is that why Maggie is last shown to us non-responsive in her shop?

Now, Nina's even more foreshadowing reply:

Nina said that, if she owned a record shop, she'd be more concerned about "someone breaking in and leaving more records behind."

What are records? They're the literal records in the musical and old film sense that Maggie sells, yes, and also Maggie herself. They're also books, like what Aziraphale sells, and Aziraphale himself. But they're also a third thing that's very much of note in S2.

They're also the life's work of a scrivener, like what Muriel does.

Nina foreshadows someone breaking in and leaving "more records behind"... which is exactly what happens in The Final 15.

Elspeth's graverobbing. Bildad stealing Job and Sitis' wine and food. The 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery. Aziraphale having the missing Shakespeare Robin Hood play in the box in 2.06. The robbery-based fantasy Aziraphale was telling Crowley in Lockdown: ...the other night, when a couple of young lads broke into the back and tried to steal the cash(cache)box!

The Final 15 is a robbery.

The last two episodes see the shop attacked during The Meeting Ball and into the next morning. Aziraphale is robbed blind of his entire life. Characters are taken hostage. Signals for help are tried and fail. The cop, it turns out, was a stooge for the robbers. Whoever Derek Jacobi Is Playing broke in through the open door and robbed the place blind, as Maggie foreshadowed. As Nina foreshadowed he would, what did the robber leave behind?

More records. Muriel.

To rob, as we know, is to steal. It's to plunder or strip a place from someone through force and/or violence. That is why it was once, in addition to being descriptive of physical goods stolen from a person, also a word that was used for rape, for which non-consensual possession has been analogous since the show's first episode. That is why some of us think that the music goes insane on the look to Crowley in the scene below. Satan is robbing Crowley-- forcing him to identify him as The Metatron to Aziraphale and the angels and to let Aziraphale go alone with him.

Satan attacked Crowley in front of Aziraphale and, while Aziraphale pretended he didn't see it, he did, which is why he led "The Metatron" straight out the door in an effort to get him away from Crowley. Because, speaking of characters behaving very weirdly... anyone have a better explanation for why guard dog Crowley sat in that chair like he couldn't get out of it and encouraged Aziraphale to go alone with a guy who once tried to kill them? It just doesn't make any sense unless his words are not really his own and there's only one character we've seen do that to him.

And if Crowley's not the only one behaving out of character, then what else happened to Maggie at the mini-mart but something similar?

What happened in The Final 15? Satan robbed the bookshop.

He and The Metatron don't give a toss about the shop itself and plan to destroy it alongside everything else once Armageddon gets rocking. They're there to get Crowley and Aziraphale out of the way for Armageddon by dividing and conquering. Just because we've yet to see blood doesn't mean this wasn't robbery by force.

Satan took hostages at the start-- letting the ones go he didn't care about go and keeping the ones most likely to influence the shop's owner: Crowley and Muriel.

Satan and The Metatron sacrificed Muriel to their plan, not caring if Muriel explodes along with the shop when they kick off Armageddon a matter of *checks watch* basically any minute now after S2. We think Muriel is better off in the shop at the end of S2 but I'm not totally sure they are. I think it actually might be one of the most dangerous places to be in right now. The bookshop didn't burn down this time-- it was burned as safe space in every possible way. It's a crime scene.

The Metatron and Satan are here for revenge. The Metatron is letting Satan have Aziraphale to get Crowley and Aziraphale out of the way for Armageddon. There is no real job offer-- it's all Satan tempting Aziraphale into falling. Satan's revenge on Crowley and Aziraphale is to force Crowley to help him take Aziraphale right out from under his nose. That's the start of it, anyway.

Besides Armageddon and daring to have a relationship and a sense of self outside of the demonic collective of Hell what is Satan really pissed at Crowley and Aziraphale about?

His kid. Adam. Crowley and Aziraphale helping Adam against him.

If Satan has been lying in wait, still very, very angry at Crowley and Aziraphale for turning his son against him and if he's now here for revenge, then who else besides Aziraphale is then most in peril here?

Yes, my Job-and-Sitis-paralleling poppet... your big, cross duck and your kids are most imperiled here and S2 showed us that your kids are not just humanity writ large but, specifically, Maggie. The Small Back Room is of the bookshop that is you and Crowley. Maggie is your Adam. Will Satan come after your daughter? It's a concept posed in your paralleling/foreshadowing story earlier in the season... actually, it was also the entire plot of that paralleling story earlier in the season as well...

I feel like not going with Ennon and Keziah's theories on Satan's behavior is probably the best way to form a Good Omens theory 😂 so I'll stick with the idea that Satan very much would dare leave a revenge body count of Crowley and Aziraphale's adopted kids, as the Job minisode proved he'd do even with the spawn of "God's favorite human", let alone anybody else.

As, speaking of foreshadowing lines, this is really even more S2 than it was about S1:

Satan will even have a whole pseudo-philosophical chat about it with you first, amused that he's standing in a place called Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death and ordering a coffee while the plan is likely for this place, the women making him the coffee, and everyone on this street and on most of the planet to be dead by tomorrow.

Maggie is the only character who actually asked for coffee using that exact word in S2.

[milliesfishes]

hii same anon again! feel free to ignore if you don’t want to do this ofc - but a perfect lake day with coryo but then you can tell something’s off. he then finally tells you about how he was reassigned to district two and doesn’t have any choice but to go and you two are both so heartbroken. and then maybe having to actually say goodbye? :’) guess i want to cry lol

⋆౨ৎ𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓴𝓮𝓮𝓹𝓮𝓻 𝓬𝓸𝓻𝔂𝓸 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓼 𝓾𝓹 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾⋆౨ৎ 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓾𝓼 𝓼𝓷𝓸𝔀

Coriolanus’ lips found your fingers clasped with his hand, and you smiled slow and soft like sunlight. His other arm was resting lazily over your hips, the weight a comforting thing as his chest supported your back. It was perfect. Everything about it was perfect.

Truthfully, you loved every allotted day off he spent with you. It was a treasure amidst a sea of mundane days filled with labor and exhaustion. He smoothed every rough spot for you, made every ordinary trouble melt away.

Turning in his arms, you let your cheek fall against his chest, the metal of his dog tags cool from your time in the lake. Many a time you had fallen asleep with the rectangles pressed to your skin and awoken with his blood type imprinted there.

He let you move against him, quiet and stoic as always. Today in particular he'd been reserved but you assumed it was stress, not minding the lack of talk. Only when you were settled did he adjust his arms, one large hand splaying over your bare back. You hadn’t bothered to redress, and nor did he.

It was funny- a month ago he would have had his clothes on immediately after drying off, wary of the surroundings of nature he was so unfamiliar with. Now he sat upright, not against the tree like anyone from town would have done, but it didn’t matter. As long as you fit between his arms nothing else mattered.

Picking at the blanket underneath, you murmured, “I hope it can always be like this.” A bird’s whistle carried from the trees, flung out into the expanse of the glassy lake. His fingers stilled where they had been roving up and down, causing you to look up at him, meet his stormy blue eyes.

Right now, they were filled with thunderclouds of oceanic magnitude, and you sat up straight, brow knitting. Was he upset? Worried about something? "Coryo?"

The lake lapped calmly at the pebbly shore, the opposite of the mass of dread circulating and hardening in your chest. It was a buildup; you knew it was. He kept your fingers laced with his when he murmured, "I'm being transferred."

It felt as though someone had shoved you off the edge of something dark and looming, and now your body was flailing helplessly, plummeting to the jagged rocks of the unknown. Hovering clouds darkened the spot of sunshine you'd been lying in, and goosebumps rippled over your arms.

"Transferred?" You could only manage the single word, trying to leave out the accompanying emotions. Your efforts were in vain.

He gave a single nod, and you let out a little breath, looking away. The only that could have shocked you more than meeting was him leaving you. He'd looked so out of place that first night at the Hob, as if he didn't know what to do with himself.

It was hardly the same man staring back at you now, the lines of his face stiffened.

You sat all the way up, moving closer to him, knees pushing his thighs further apart. He took your hips again, trying to get you to stay still, but you refused, determined as ever. Framing his face with your palms, you searched him desperately. "What do you mean by transferred?"

"I took the advancement test. I passed. Now they want to send me to Two."

Your poor heart began to ache all over again. Every word from his mouth was eating at it like sugar to a rotting tooth. "Two."

"Sweetheart." He gently held your wrists, pulling your hands away from his cheeks. The more you looked at him the more you hurt. But you'd never been able to tear yourself from him yet. Though your time with him had been brief, Coriolanus had quickly become your favorite person, the only one you wanted to be with. You wanted a sea of endless nights cuddled to his chest, or under his arm at the Hob. Gent's girl is what the other Peacekeepers called you, lifting their bottles and grinning.

Tears began to prick your eyes. "You never even told me you took the test."

"I didn't know they would ship me out," he said with an edge, swallowing. "I thought maybe I'd be promoted here and get to stay. But they want me somewhere else."

"You're leaving me." It felt so selfish to say it that way. The man you loved was escaping the mousetrap of District Twelve and you were condemning for it. In all honesty, this was a chance you knew you would have jumped at had it been you.

Coriolanus breathed out through his nose, and you suppressed a chill both from the temperature and the look on his face. He didn't reach for you, letting you have your space as you tried not to cry. It was only when the first crystal drop leaked from your eye that his hands found your waist, pulling you back into his chest.

Your tears soaked his chest, and you took in sharp breaths, trying not to go hysterical. It was bad enough that he was comforting you when you were supposed to be excited for him.

All you could think of were the things you would miss. The barely-there lilt of his lips whenever you said something sweet or funny, The feel of his hands on you. Soft confessions he made when it was dark in your small home save for a candle, kissing your forehead when he left to get back in time for curfew. The way he kissed- like he'd been hungry his entire life and only you could satiate him.

A choked little sob bubbled up and darted past your lips when you realized exactly how alone you'd be when he was gone. Family long passed, being with him had been the closest you'd felt to home in a long while. Where do you go when your home is a million miles away?

To the bed he'd held you in, you gathered. To the places he used to be. It would be a measly substitute for what you really wanted.

"I'll write you," he promised, adjusting the daisy he'd plucked and put in your hair earlier. His body was growing taut, and you knew he was fighting internally as much as you were. "We'll...it'll be okay."

Maybe somehow you had always known he wouldn't be here forever. Given his origins somewhere that may as well have been universes away, you knew he wasn't destined for life in a place like this. With the simplicities you had learned to make enough.

You could almost see the path the future embroidered before you. Crinkled letters under your pillow because that was the closest you'd get to holding him again, hours emptied of his presence. It drained you like a rainy day, and you slid your arms around his torso. His chin dropped to your hair, one hand at your waist and the other fingering the strap of your damp crocheted undershirt.

A plea for him to stay nearly rose on your lips, and you lifted your head, wishing you were brave enough to say it. But you knew nothing could stop it now. The echoes of your desire were fading into the background as he breathed in through his nose, pressing his forehead down onto your head.

The way he held you spoke volumes, and you mentally penned it to remember for late. Your wet hair had been sticking to his chest like seaweed, and he brushed it behind your shoulder. "I...I'll miss you." Though his voice was steady, you could hear the cracks in the foundation. "I love you," he was really saying.

You allowed yourself one final sniffle before lifting your head, cupping his cheek and pressing your lips to his. His warm fingers found the nape of your neck over your hair, just holding you there until you pulled back. "I'll miss you too," you breathed, twin tears trickling from your eyes.

Ever since you knew him, you had watched the mask he'd worn as a young man from the Capitol chink and crumble away. Perhaps he had realized he didn't need it here. Not where humanity was in its barest bones, the natural world a pure comfort. In a romantic way you knew it was you too. You gave him all you had in the way of love, unearthing the undeniable fact that he cared for you that way too.

Coriolanus' hands found your cheeks, and he kissed you once more in a way full of longing. He searched your eyes, letting his forehead lean against yours. In that moment he looked almost desperate, matching you. Without closing his eyes, his lips pressed to yours in the tiniest of pecks. "I love you."

Maybe that would keep you warm at night when he was nothing but memory.

[cinnaleaf]

Wildflower | One Shot

Anon Request: Trent x best friend!reader "Wildflower - Billie Eilish" | MASTERLIST

genre: pure angst wc: ~1.6k a/n: thank you for all your requests, i hope my interpretation fuels your angsty little hearts!

You never meant to love him like this.

Being his best friend wasn't supposed to hurt this bad. You were always in the background, like the wildflowers that grow on the side of the road. Delicate, yet resilient and waiting to be seen. You were always right in front of Trent, ready to give him everything but he kept looking past you and you hated it. Why were you still standing there, loving him when he already chose someone else?

Zoë.

You didn't hate her even though you really wanted to. She was pretty much everything you weren't. Her presence lit up any room, like a sunflower basking in the sun, drawing everyone's attention without doing much at all. Then there was you..a little wildflower growing in the shadows. Unnoticed. It wasn't Zoë's fault Trent treated you the way he did and you knew that, but you couldn't help feeling a little jealous every time you saw them together. You tried to ignore it, but you could feel Trent pulling away from you. He was being cold, distant, and mean. You didn't understand why and it hurt.

“I dunno why you're still here, Y/N,” Trent muttered in a sharp tone, pulling his hoodie over his head as he glanced at you. You were lounging on the couch, scrolling through your phone like you always did. The two of you grew up together and were practically inseparable, until now.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” you asked, feeling knots in your stomach. “You're always around,” he said, his gaze not quite meeting your eyes. “like I need you here or something.” His words slapped you in the face. You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over. “If you want me to leave..just say that. You don't have to be so damn rude about it.” Trent scoffed, running his hands over his face before looking back at you with cold eyes. “I'm saying it now, yeah?”

Something had changed, and you didn’t understand why.

“I know you don’t mean to hurt me, so I’ll keep it to myself” was like a mantra you kept repeating to yourself, willing yourself to believe it. You wanted it to be true so badly. You loved him but you wouldn't date admit it to him, especially not now.

You didn’t know he loved you just as much as you loved him. He tried so hard to avoid the feelings he had for you, even if it meant pushing you away. It wasn’t something he was ready to tackle yet. He was dating Zoë in an effort to distract himself from the way he felt about you. 

A couple of weeks later, you were at a random bar. It wasn't your usual spot, but Zoë invited you for whatever reason. She was sitting next to you, stirring her drink with a paper straw that was clearly getting soggy. You weren't close to her like you were with Trent, but she asked you to meet up and curiosity got the best of you. She was complaining for the last fifteen minutes, but you weren't really listening until something she said cut through the noise in your head.

“I don't know what's up with Trent,” Zoë said, sounding frustrated. “He doesn't even touch me like he used to anymore. He's there but he's not at the same time. I don't get it. He'll kiss me but then it's like his mind is somewhere else. It's so frustrating.” You froze as your fingers tightened around the glass in front of you. Every time Zoë told you something about him, it stung. He had been pulling away from you for months, but why was he pulling away from Zoë? Your heart did a stupid little flip, thinking maybe the reason he was acting so weird had to do with something else and not you.

“It's weird though,” Zoë added, not noticing the way your face went stone cold. “Sometimes he'll be staring at me and it's like he's trying, but then he just...doesn't.” Her words lingered in the air, you hated how much they made you yearn for something you never had. You wanted to know what it felt like to be held by him the way she did. You wanted to feel his lips on yours, his hands on your waist. You wanted him to really see you. But you weren't her. You weren't the sunflower in his life and it was crushing you.

“Maybe he's just stressed with the season? He gets intense sometimes…” you offered, knowing that probably wasn't it. All of you were lying. To yourself, and to each other. There was no good answer for any of this. Zoë nodded, continuing to swirl her drink as she pondered. “Maybe,” she sighed, resting her chin on her hand. “I really miss how it used to be when he’d come home from a match and kiss me like I was the only thing he cared about.” 

The thought of Trent kissing her and holding onto her like she was everything he needed made your chest tighten. You spent years being his best friend, hoping for scraps of affection just to not get any at all. Meanwhile, Zoë got all of it, even if it seemed to be fading.

It wasn't fair, but life never is. C'est la vie.

You stood in the stands of Anfield, surrounded by cheering fans. You shoved your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket. It was cold but Zoë's words still swirled around in your head, making you shiver. You didn't even know why you were at the match, but you were. You always went to every single one. Watching Trent move across the pitch was fun to look at any other time; he was a force out there. Would he even acknowledge you or look in the crowd for you like he used to? Or would you just be another face lost in a sea of red? You caught sight of Zoë a few rows in front of you, looking picture perfect as always. She was laughing with her friends, showing not a care in the world. Maybe they fixed things?

For the next 90 minutes your mind kept drifting, not focusing on the match at all. You wondered what it would be like having Trent come home to you, kissing you and telling you how much fun he had on the pitch. You used to be that person, albeit not in the way you wanted to be because there were never any kisses shared. Suddenly, it hit you in the middle of the match. You weren't jealous of Zoë, you were jealous of the version of Trent that was open and affectionate toward her. The version you never had and probably would never receive.

The crowd erupted into cheers after Liverpool secured the win. You should've been celebrating along with them but instead, you felt hollow. Your eyes followed Trent as he jogged off the pitch, he was in celebratory mode, joking with the team and laughing. He glanced at the stands for a quick second, and you thought maybe he was looking for you. Your heart did that stupid little flip again, even though you knew better. His eyes landed on Zoë and your stomach dropped. 

You couldn't do this anymore.

Without taking a second to think, you slipped out of your seat and headed to the exit as the noise of the stadium faded into the background. You didn't want to be there when he walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. You can't look. Not tonight. Not ever again.

Your phone pinged as you made your way through the crowd but you ignored it. It was probably just a group chat about the match or a text from someone checking to see if you were still at the stadium. It really didn't matter anymore because you weren't coming back. You pushed through the exit, walking for what seemed like forever. You didn't want to stop because stopping meant thinking, and you did not want to think about Trent right now. He was never going to see you the way you saw him and you were done waiting for it to happen. Did he even notice that you were gone?

He noticed. 

The seat you always sat in was empty. He got used to scanning the crowd for you, it was his usual routine. You would always give him a smile or a thumbs up, but tonight there was nothing. 

Zoë was next to him talking about dinner plans, but he wasn't really listening. He couldn't stop thinking about you, and he knew he messed up. Something in his heart tugged, it was a feeling that had been there for a couple of months now. He kept ignoring it because it was easier that way. Pushing you away and acting like nothing changed was easier than admitting he loved you. And now you weren't there.

He glanced at Zoë, who was on her phone posting a picture they took post match. She didn't notice he was quiet, but he knew you would've noticed. You were always there through everything. The good, the bad, the ugly, the wins, and the losses. You were his rock, his constant. But he was so wrapped up in his own bullshit that he was scared to admit you were more than a friend to him. 

You were his wildflower, always there, waiting for him to see you. For the first time he realized he was too busy chasing the sun to notice the beauty growing that was right beside him for years. 

You were his everything, and now you were gone.

[pamwritessometimes]

Fridays are for beer and heartbreak

Beau Arlen x Reader

A/N: It's just a little something I came up with the other day. If I'm being honest, I've never seen Big Sky, but I'm a simp for a man in cowboy boots, so... enjoy. 🤍

Warnings: none? oh, maybe that English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad day. For what it's worth, it was a relatively nice, sunny day in Montana terms. Sure, my boyfriend declared the final break-up of our relationship, but to be frank, I was utterly unfazed by his antics; we’ve been in an on-again-off-again relationship for a year now. Not that it was serious in the first place. At least, not for him. And, if I’m honest with myself, maybe not for me either. So yeah, it was a relatively okay day.

Still, there’s something about hearing the finality in someone’s voice, even when it’s a toxic someone, that leaves you feeling a little hollow. The break-up itself wasn’t anything spectacular—just another drawn-out argument that ended with him muttering some lame excuse before walking out. It had happened so many times before that I almost laughed when he slammed the door.

I was free. Really free. But that didn’t stop the ache sitting heavy in my chest.

I pushed through the rest of my day, the usual routine of prepping for the evening rush at the bar. A glance in the mirror told me I looked the part—western boots, worn-in jeans, a dark brown suede jacket I loved more than I probably should, and my hair pulled back just enough to stay out of my face but still look effortless. I should have felt like myself. I was supposed to be this confident, tough woman who didn’t need anyone to mess with her head, but tonight… I just didn’t have the energy to be that.

The bar was packed for a Friday night, as it usually was by this time of the evening. The usual crowd was in full swing, with the sound of old country and blues tunes playing from the jukebox and the steady clink of bottles being set on tables. It was one of those oldie bars that still had that charming and rustic atmosphere, like time stilled between its four walls. That night I stayed behind the counter more than I usually did, letting the other servers handle most of the tables. I wasn’t in the mood to make small talk or listen to the same old stories I’d heard a thousand times. I didn't have the energy for that either.

Then, Beau walked in. Right on schedule.

He had this easy confidence about him, something I noticed the first time he came in months ago. It was in the way he held himself, like he could command a room without trying, but somehow never made a big deal about it. Tall, broad shoulders, dark hair that always looked like he just ran a hand through it after a long shift. And those eyes—green, like the pines up in the mountains after the rain.

He always came in around this time on Fridays, right after his shift ended. Sheriff of Helena by day, patron at my bar by night. There was something comforting about the routine of it. Maybe because he was the closest thing I had to a friend here, even though we were more like two people who enjoyed each other’s company but kept everything else at arm’s length. Still, there was always something unspoken between us—something that hung in the air when he sat down at the bar, a tension I couldn’t quite name. Beau slid onto the barstool closest to me, the one he always sat at, and gave me a smile that eased the ache I’d been feeling all day.

“Evening” he said in that slow, easy drawl of his, laying his hat on the counter. “How’s it going, darling?”

I forced a smile, pulling a cold beer from behind the bar and sliding it across to him without asking. He always ordered the same thing, and I always had it ready for him. “Same as always” I replied, but even I could hear the flatness in my voice. His eyes narrowed a little as he studied me, and I could feel his gaze linger on my slight frown. He had a way of seeing through me, like he could tell when something was off even before I said anything. 

“You sure about that?” His voice was quiet, not pushing, just waiting for me to let him in. It was the way he asked, like he already knew the answer but was giving me a chance to speak first.

I glanced away, grabbing a towel and pretending to wipe down the already squeaky clean counter. “I’m fine. Just… had one of those days.”

Beau took a long sip of his beer, but he didn’t take his eyes off me. “Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

I let out a breath and leaned on the bar, dropping the towel and meeting his gaze. “He broke up with me. For real this time.” I hadn’t planned on saying it, but the words came out before I could stop them.

He raised an eyebrow, but there wasn’t a hint of surprise in his face. “You mean, finally?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, a short, sharp sound that felt good coming out. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

Beau didn’t say anything right away. He just sat there, watching me with those damn eyes that made it hard to keep things light. There was something deeper there tonight, something that had always simmered between us but felt more dangerous now, like we were toeing a line neither of us had been willing to cross before. 

“You good with that?” His voice was softer now, the edges gentler, and it felt like a real question, not just small talk.

“Honestly? I’m better off. I know that. But… it still stings, you know?”

Beau nodded, and something flickered in his expression, something almost protective. His gaze softened matching his voice. “You deserve so much better than what he was giving you, darling.”

His words hung in the air between us, heavy with underlying meanings. I knew what he meant. I knew he wasn’t just talking about my ex, and that’s when the tension snapped into something sharper, something deeper. I felt it in the way he was looking at me now, not as the bartender he chatted with every Friday, but as someone he cared about. But could that be the truth?

Maybe I wasn’t just his bartender either. Maybe we’d been dancing around this for too long. I leaned in slightly, not even realizing I was doing it until I saw his gaze drop to my lips. The bar around us seemed to fade, the noise, the people...none of it mattered in that moment. It was just me and Beau and the weight of everything unsaid between us thick and obvious in the air. 

“You gonna be alright?” he asked finally, and I couldn't help but notice how his voice became an octave lower... intimate in a way that sent a shiver down my spine.

“I think so” I whispered.

But my heart was pounding, not from the breakup, but from the way he was looking at me. Like maybe, just maybe, he’d been waiting for this moment as long as I had.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad day.

Thanks for reading! Have a nice day, loves. 🤍

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt. 15

The rest of what I wanted to put in 14

Also I'm so sorry for the delay, genuinely had the worst few weeks of my life 🤌🏻 thank you for not giving up on me

<<Part 14 Masterlist

Laying in bed next to Logan was bliss. Since accepting his proposal the two of you had amped up your love. If that was even possible.

If he wasn't whipped before he definitely was now. The boys lovingly teased him as he literally waited on you, hand and foot. He wanted you to be cared for, wanted you to feel loved, feel special. He wanted you to be the queen you were.

He even learned how to braid hair for you.

You were just drifting off to sleep when a yelp woke you.

Logan pushed you back down into the covers. “Stay here.”

“No!” You argued, jumping up and sprinting after him.

Jean was on the floor with a weird circular object on her forehead. You paused but didn't stop as she was breathing. You had to push on, had to find the intruder, to prevent the rest of the residents from danger.

As you legged it to keep up with your fiancé you passed more unconscious bodies - Remy, Darwin and Kitty to name a few - they each had the same disc attached to their foreheads but we're still breathing.

“Logan?!” You called out as you flew down the stairs.

He was out of your line of sight. He'd led you to the dining hall - you think - but what way had he gone? There were doors on each wall, what one had he run through? Had he even come through here?

You were too exposed standing in the centre of the hall in nothing but a nightie. Was this the right move? Should you have stopped and helped the others? Who was here? Who was infiltrating the Mansion this time? Mutant or human?

That line of thought had you wondering: what if the discs were lethal? What if you'd sealed their fate by trying to prevent others? What if the discs were draining their life force? FUCK!!

As your mind spun you backed up against the far wall. You needed to keep a level head so the wall was an attempt to ground yourself but it wasn't exactly easing your anxieties.

You formed flat fields which sat by your fists - Magneto had been right to tell you to try and form different shapes - in an offence manoeuvre. Keeping silent to hear or see anything. To get any sort of clue as to who or what had broken in.

Heavy footsteps echoed beyond the door to your left and suddenly it was blown off of its hinges.

She sauntered into the hall, and for having just booted the wood she didn't seem winded.

The girl was young. She had dark hair and an angry expression, wearing jeans and a leather jacket.

“Hello?” You had never seen her before. Usually if someone was invading the Mansion you had a vague idea. The humans usually wore the same uniform and any other mutant that came knocking usually had some sort of gimmick or name correlating to their power.

She answered with a snarl, launching forward.

You blocked her attack and were in shock.

She had claws! SHE HAD TWO CLAWS LIKE LOGAN!

Was… was this like Magneto? Did he have a child?

You couldn't blame the man for having a past but you were convinced your Logan would've told you.

The girl was angry. She didn't like that you blocked her attack. She jumped straight back in punching and kicking - KICKING WITH A FOOT CLAW!?!? - at your fields. Each attack you countered and pushed her off.

“Who are you?” You yelled over her grunts.

She managed to slip two claws through a field - barely missing your exposed thigh - but you held them in place. “What they made me.”

“Who made you?” You cried out, shoving her backwards and into the mahogany table.

She crouched on the table reminiscent of Kurt. “Alkali.” You had no idea who Alkali were. Wracking your brain, you only knew HYDRA, SWORD, AIM.. no Alkali.

She had stayed still on the table so you raised your palms in a surrender, fields away. “Why are you here?”

“He is to blame. They did this to me because of him!”

The girl leaped from the table and over you. You produced another field inches above your head and caught the circle she had tried to place.

“What is this? What have you done to my friends?” You wrapped a field around it and brought it close to your eyes. It had a red flashing light and tiny pincers.

“They're just asleep.” She growled. “Like you should be!”

The girl tried to kick your feet but you jumped back. As you landed, your ankle rolled and you lost your footing. You stumbled and landed on your butt encapsulated yourself in a field.

The girl stood over you, her arms folded and wearing a taunting smile. Fuck, she looked like him. He was definitely her father. 100%

“Hey!” Logan yelled behind you.

The girl snarled upwards and circled your sorry ass, heading forwards. She revealed her claws.

“X.” She spoke.

“Names Logan.” His claws unsheathed. “Now who the fuck are you?”

As if?!

Could he not put two and two together?

“They made me because of you!” She snarled but from your angle you could see tears forming. Her anger was still present but there was also sadness, a hopelessness.

“Who made you?” His eyes watched her stalk around the room, she kicked a chair out of her way, her eyes never leaving him.

“Sutter, Kinney, Rice.” She spat the names. The names didn't ring any bells with you and you could see they didn't with Logan. “But you gave the order.”

His brows twitched in puzzlement. “I would never! It almost killed me.”

“You're gonna wish it killed me!” She jumped upwards and crashed into him.

~~

Laura was no longer a volatile gremlin.

Well... she was still quick to anger and she was still just as gremlinesque as Logan.

But now she knew you were no longer a threat.

She was slowly - immensely slow - integrating into the X-Mansion.

A team of Kurt, Jean and Kitty broke into the Alkali facility. The cooperation was under the Umbrella of HYDRA, meaning it was just as sinister.

They had returned with horrid news.

Laura had been created merely as an experiment and was essentially cloned from a scrap of DNA they stole.

The implications of HYDRA cloning was terrifying. They were creating and cloning weapons of mass destruction.

You read the stolen file as the X-Men discussed above your head.

‘Laura Kinney’.

She had mentioned the name Kinney.

Her mother was a scientist and had donated her eggs to create this weapon. She had been created in a lab to replicate the Weapon X process.

Her handlers had tried to integrate her into society to act as a sleeper but she didn't cope well around humans. In response to that they isolated her for years, only bringing her out for training, experimenting with her healing factor and finally her Adamantium transfusion.

“She can't stay here.” Scott sighed, he didn't mean to sound as harsh as he did. “I want to help her but the students are terrified.”

“She hasn't been around people.” You supplied. “They isolated her from age eight to fifteen.”

Charles was silent, scanning your mind for the information it held.

“She's my responsibility.” Logan was standing in the corner, arms folded. If you didn't know better you'd say his power was weather manipulation with the rain cloud that had followed him these past weeks.

The two of you had spoken about the potential of him having offspring. He had told you there were two possibilities, one being from his time in Japan and the other Iraq.

He had apologised but it was none of your business really. You couldn't have kids anyway. Why would you be upset that he had them?

Okay maybe it was a little strange.

His immortality kept slipping from your mind only to be thrust right back in your face when you least suspected it.

Would his children be like Laura?

Would they be powerful?

Have claws?

“I'll look after her.” Logan told the group. “I'll need help but I want to take her in. Show her that she doesn't have to be a weapon.”

You saw the vulnerability he tried to keep at bay. He was so unsure of himself.

He'd never been a father.

Never accepted that role.

He was a leader, a teacher, an X-Man but never something as delicate as a father.

“We'll all help Logan.” You hoped to ease his turmoil.

The crease between his brows lifted and his frown disappeared. He could always rely on you. Ride or die.

Charles’ chair moved, pulling attention. “I'd like to speak to Logan and Y/N separately.”

The others gave pointed looks but did comply and soon enough the three of you were alone.

You were sitting on the small sofa he had in his office - it was really more of a miniature library/study - the file on the coffee table in front of you. Logan had taken four steps towards Charles’ desk but he was still standing at a distance. Charles had stopped next to his window, he turned to it and sighed. The weather had been drizzly, a grey sky stared back at him.

“She is haunted.” Charles informed. “She needs reliable, consistent help.”

You could do that.

Right?

You could be that for someone.

Logan huffed. “I'll give it all I got.”

“But that also may cause problems to arise.” Charles licked his lips. “Sometimes what happens is terrible and it's hard but the person trying to help makes it worse.”

You didn't understand.

Did she or didn't she need constant help?

“My paralysis didn't occur because of the bullet but because Erik took it out.” He gave an example. “Sometimes we need to take a step back and let what happened happen.”

You summarised. “So she needs consistency and reliable help but she needs us to step back?”

“She isn't used to caring individuals. She'll need time but I do think she'll come around.”

~~

Mario Kart and Sonic were your way of introducing Laura into the world.

It taught her how to take losing graciously, team work, social skills, practical problem solving…

And best of all.

It was fun.

She was having fun.

Acting like a normal kid.

You were Wario because for some reason you loved that short king and she chose Daisy. You'd tell everyone to join as the GameCube had four controllers. It was only a matter of time before you upgraded and splurged on the PlayStation.

Kurt and Jubilee were Laura's favourites. They played animatedly next to her and she observed the way they acted. Watched them so closely you could see her imitate their behaviours.

Scott slumped into the empty couch space next to you. “I'm playing the winner.”

Kurt smirked up at Scoot. “Can't vait to beat you, too.”

You rolled your eyes as much as possible without them leaving the screen. “As if.”

Jubilee sat on your other side, whilst Kurt and Laura were sprawled out on the floor, moving her body animatedly to turn where you had.

Scott watched the game turn into madness, you all bickering and yelping as shells and banana peels hit you.

Mario - Jubilee - won, with Daisy, King Boo - Kurt - and Wario close behind. Just at the last second you Blue Shelled King Boo and squeezed into third place.

Kurt was salty but admitted it was a clever move as he handed the controller to Scott.

Scott switched up his character to Donkey Kong and decided on the track.

You hated this track. Who in their right mind picks Rainbow Road?!

The fucker was good at Rainbow Road. You Jubilee and Laura were not so good, all crashing into everything and falling off the edges.

“Hey Scott.” You spoke casually compared to how chaotic you all were feeling. “Logan's thinking of having a Best Woman so you wanna be my Man of Honour?”

Donkey Kong flew off the side. “Did you-what?”

“I didn't say that to fuck with you but I'm glad it worked.” You nudged his elbow with your own.

“Yeah, I'll be your Man of Honour.” He dropped a giant banana peel in your path.

Later in the evening, as the two of you were in the Kitchen, Scott asked if it was real, if you actually wanted him to be your Man of Honour and you said yes.

Why wouldn't you?

He was your friend.

Logan was planning on asking Jean, so you felt solid in your choice. Scott was a dear friend to you and due to your proximity to Jean he had grown even closer now they were finally dating.

“I don't think we're having a big ceremony though.” You warned. “It may just be us four.”

“That's fine.” He sliced some Mango.

You watched him make a fruit salad, snagging some pieces for yourself, in silence. It was astonishing that you hadn't been interrupted. For once, everything was calm.

Just as you were praising being uninterrupted Logan entered the Kitchen.

“Finally, been looking everywhere.”

You gave him a smile. “My Man of Honour and I have been here a while.”

Logan's brows rose as he laughed. “You asked?”

“Yup, was destroying him at Mario Kart-”

“Hah.”

“-and thought I should probably ask.”

Logan's arm wrapped around your waist automatically and he nodded down at you. “Should probably ask Jean. You settled on a date yet?”

“No,” you scrunch your nose. “It's our wedding, you have to he-” The sentence was left unfinished as his fingers dug into your side tickling you.

"Just want you to be happy."

~~

Logan, Storm, Scott, Jean, Beast and Kurt were all off on a mission leaving you as the responsible adult.

Fuck that.

It was boring with them all off. Luckily Laura was there for you when she wasn't reading.

The girl had stormed through your book collection and was currently rereading 1984.

So you were feeling lonesome.

There were others at the Mansion: Colossus, Shadowcat, Jubilee, Rogue, Bobby, etc but they weren't immediate friends.

A knock at the doors pulled your attention - you were planning on rotting in bed, having come down for some popcorn and a glass of water.

Pulling the heavy front door open you found two people.

One was a mad dressed in all red, he had an assortment of weapons on his person, and the other was a child. She had tanned skin and dark hair, scars visible by her eyes.

“Hello?”

“Y/N! Hi. I'm Flashback Deadpool!” He shook your hand with such enthusiasm that your shoulder was moving. “And this little pumpkin is Gabby.”

“Hi Gabby.” You flashed the warmest smile you could. “Are you two rel-”

“No, Flashback Y/N. We aren't. Well, if we're going Mayaverse and not movieverse we came outta the same place. Gabby is a clone of Laura who's a clone of Logan who SPOILERS IS A CLONE OF HUGH JACKMAN!” Deadpool cackled to himself.

“Oh, okay.” You didn't know what to do. How did this man know your name? Why was he saying flashback? Against your better judgement you asked, “Would you like to come in?”

“Yeah sure,” Deadpool took a hold of Gabby's hand, “but I want to remind present Y/N that she's on the stairs.”

//

There was a group photo on the wall. It was professionally taken and each member looked pristine. Charles was sitting in his chair with Jean, Rogue and Storm on an expensive looking sofa; Scott was perched on the sofa’s arm beside Jean as Bobby, Colossus and Hank stood behind it. Jubilee and Kurt were kneeling at Storm's feet.

How proud they all looked.

There was a smaller photograph taped next to the large frame. It must've been taken seconds after the main one as each member had chaotic grins, laughing ridiculously.

They were a family.

They are a family.

It was eerie.

It had taken you ages to realise it.

But it was eerie.

It felt wrong. An unease settled into your bones.

You felt like the jigsaw was complete with your missing piece underneath the table.

The others wouldn't feel this way.

They hadn't lived here.

Gambit didn't remember a time before the Void and Laura barely had Logan and Charles.

You stepped away, passing portraits of lost mutants.

You'd never be there because you were never there.

You felt sick.

How could they not know you when they were such a big part of you?

They were YOUR FAMILY.

//

Landing in a Wasteland was not how you thought you'd spend the day.

What had happened? Did Kurt teleport you?

Where the fuck were you?

Rising from the sand you tried to make out anything - any landmarks - but the glare of the sun was too much.

Where was Logan? Laura? Gabby? Scott? Jean? Storm? Wade?!

Where were your friends?!

“Y/N?”

You spun to see Dazzler. She looked different. Older. Worn. Weak.

“Alison?”

“It's so good to see a familiar face!” Grinning ear to ear.

“Where are we? Egypt?” You had to bring your hand up to shield your eyes.

“N-” Her face dropped. “No, we're elsewhere.”

What did that mean?

She gave you a pitiful expression before shaking her head. “Go, run, head that way. They won't find you there.”

“Alison I don't understa-”

“Go!” Her eyes glittered and she turned her back on you. “I've given you a chance, take it. Run.”

Run?

What were you running from?

What were you running to?

Why were you running?

No one likes running!

But she clearly meant it.

You turned in the direction she had gestured to and began walking, hoping that she would snap out of it and follow you. Tell you where you were heading.

She didn't.

You found scraps of… well of everything. There were buildings, monuments, vehicles, clothes, shields, weapons - mainly faulty - bones, graves and most importantly more sand.

It was hot - it was so hot - you had to unzip your suit, tying the fabric around your waist. Sweat marks already stained the fabric of your vest.

Was this the right way?

You climbed to the peak of a sand mound - hill? dune? Whatever the word was, it was too hot to even try to think - and saw something moving.

Squinting your eyes impossibly small you believe it's a bike, the rider was maybe a man? Could be a strong woman.

Either way they were your help.

You jogged down the sand and waved your hands at them.

“Hey!”

The bike spun around and headed back towards you.

You waited, no use wasting energy when they were coming your way right?

Hopefully they spoke English. If not they still could tell you where you were.

As the bike approached you knew the rider.

“Victor?” You'd met him once. Logan had tried to keep him at bay, keep the two of you separate but you did cross paths.

“Why's a pretty lady like you asking?” His eyes scanned your body. He was wearing a black Stetson and a long leather - in this heat?! - coat.

“It's me.” That was helpful. “It's Y/N, we met briefly. I'm Logan's wife.”

He chuckled. “What one?”

Ouch.

Okay.

“Dude, you're my brother in law don't be an ass.”

He sneered.

“Fine," Your hands flew up. "You can be an ass but please tell me: where are we?”

Victor took the Stetson off and dusted it. “Limbo, Purgatory, neither here nor there.”

You wanted to sass him but something he said rang true. This place didn't feel real, it felt like a sort of limbo. In the scraps you had found vintage TVs and futuristic clothing. Neither here nor there.

“We're dead?” You don't remember dying. Would you remember dying? Could you remember it if you were dead?

More importantly you weren't overly religious so where were you?! Which God was the right choice? You had your money on the Greeks.

“Doesn't feel like death.” He held his hat, observing your inner ramblings.

“I wouldn't know.” He and his brother had died countless times so, out of the two of you, he was the most qualified.

“We’re alive, just in a pit. It's bottomless and hungry.”

“Stop being ominous.”

He shrugged with a smirk.

“So we're alive but in some sort of wasteland?”

“Yup.”

Right.

When were you going to wake up?

“Okay, well, how'd you feel about a team up?”

He scoffed a laugh but realised you were serious and his smile vanished. “You're dead weight.”

As if being family was going to get you through this. Don't be stupid.

“Where's Logan?”

“I ain't seen a Logan for years.”

“What do you ‘a Logan’?”

“People here come in doubles, triples. Different worlds crashing together.”

“Well, where's my Logan?” He was quiet. “Are you even my Victor? Have we even met?”

“No.” He replaced his hat before revving the engine. “But I got places to be.” You watched him leave and could have sworn his eyes flashed yellow.

\\

The woods were the same.

Fuck, we get it! Everything is the same!!!!

You walked through the familiar path to exit the grounds. You didn't even have to think about it, your body relying on muscle memory that you had thought was lost years ago.

Logan had brought you here, dragging your ass out of bed and into town. The first time he had done it, he had driven Scott's bike but he soon found he enjoyed the walk with you.

The night could last longer.

You could just be two people staggering home instead of X-Men or Mutants or Teachers.

The trips were more frequent once you had gotten used to the branches and roots.

Town was a good twenty minute walk once you were off it Xavier's land.

You knew you shouldn't be entertaining this idea.

You didn't belong in the mansion so what did you think you'd get out of this?

Maybe you should ask someone.

No.

They'd get it but they wouldn't.

Elektra would tell you to follow your heart, Logan would be against it in case you got upset, Wade wouldn't care unless you brought him a pastry.

Laura and Gambit were here, enjoying themselves and the others that you would have asked don't know enough about you to form an opinion.

Just looking at the building might help?

Seeing her inside of it.

You wanted a hug.

A tear slipped from your eye as you realised you really wanted a hug.

She gave the warmest hugs.

The last time you received one was when you were eighteen, that was the last time you returned home for the holidays as the next years you were looking after students.

Your mother didn't mind. She was doing a lot better without you.

Money stretched further and she had gotten a new job.

Your pocket buzzed but you couldn't bring yourself to look at it.

It would be Logan. He'd be asking if you were okay and you'd have to lie and say yeah because what he was doing was important. He needed to talk to Victor like you needed to see your mother.

You wouldn't tell her.

How could you?

‘hi, I'm the daughter you never had!’

But… you could try a tart?

You had walked off the estate and we're now on the road. There was a country lane which led into a small village type town. It was new looking but each building was old, the town had character. You loved seeing a job centre have ornate carved stone walls.

There it was.

It was pink, a pale pink. Ballerina satin.

There was dark wood panelling on the windows and sign, giving the whole shop a homely vibe.

An assortment of goodies were in the window and a man that you had seen on her Facebook was mopping the flour covered floor.

Do you go in?

Well, you can't realistically stay outside staring into the window. She'll think you're a freak!

You couldn't be a freak in her eyes in two universes.

The man looked up and gave you a bright smile through the glass before mouthing ‘we’re open’. You nodded and pushed the door. A tinny bell rang as you entered.

The interior was pale pink with hot pink and white accents. The counter was filled to the brim with goodies and a chalk board behind it had custom items you could order.

The smell is what really struck you. You recognised it. Your mother's chocolate chip cookies springing up in your mind. The first batches had been a disaster but once she got it down it was your favourite treat, the memory brought fresh tears to your eyes.

“You alright dear?” The old man asked, placing the broom against the wall.

“Yeah, sorry, just a bit lost.” You smoothed your shirt. “My-I lost my mum and this place reminds me of her.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, did she come here?” He questioned.

“No, well, maybe.” How did you answer this? Why had you even disclosed that? “It's the smell of cookies.”

“I’m here if you'd like to talk about her.” You shook your head so he clasped your shoulder. “Take your time.”

You nodded again forcing the tears to stay unshed.

“I’m F/N.”

Right.

Wow.

This… this was your father.

You didn't remember anything about him, your mom had told you that he used to be in your lives but circumstances caused him to leave. You always had the feeling despite what she said you were ‘circumstances’.

“Y/N.”

He grinned. “My favourite name!"

"Is it?" Your name wasn't anything special to you, it was a string of letters and sounds that people used to get your attention but hearing him say it was your favourite name...

"There was a book I used to love, it was fantasy. You would read page one and it would give you an option and when you made your decision you had to turn to page forty and so on. There was a mage called Y/N…” He trailed off in remembrance. “I always thought if we were blessed with a child, I'd pick the name Y/N.”

You played along. “We?”

“My dearest is in the back. M/N!” He hollered.

She waddled from the back room, apron stained, a tea towel in her hands. “Yes?”

“Come and meet Y/N.”

You observed the strain in her legs as she moved. She was a lot older but it was 2024 so she would be. Her face was wrinkled and her hair white. “Y/N? You're not talking about that Dungeons and Dragons book are you?”

“It isn't Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Close enough, sorry dear, I hope he isn't bothering you.”

You shook your head. “No, course not.”

“He tried to convince me to name our dog Y/N and it is a pretty name but the way he used to go on about this super magic hero made me feel left out. He was with her.”

You chuckled.

“No, you're the only woman for me.” He pecked her cheek.

“Only because she's fictional.”

“Exactly.” He nuzzled his nose against her cheek.

“So, what can we get you?” Your mom waved her hand to the display. “Anything here?”

“Oh, yeah. I'll take anything.”

Your father was sweet when he offered, “and cookies?”

“Please.” You plucked your card out. “I'll take everything, one - no - two of everything you have.”

The couple made a face but did begin bagging items.

“Are you going to be able to eat all these?” Your mom asked as packed three slices of pie.

“Yes, it won't be just me eating.”

“Oh, let me guess; are you one of Xavier's gifted?” She tied the box with a ribbon. “Wouldn't it be marvellous to have a power?”

That was fucking twisted.

Your mother being jealous of mutants?

It wasn't fair.

Why couldn't you have been born here?

~~

On the journey back you decided they were made for each other.

Your mom and dad were soulmates.

If only you weren't born, perhaps they could have been happy.

It was trippy seeing your mom but to meet your dad…

You couldnt handle it.

You were right here and they couldn't see you. They couldn't realise who you were. Your mom even hugged you after your dad told her you were mourning.

You had to take a moment to cry in the woods.

Sitting, tears falling freely, eating a tart was how Scott found you.

“Hey. You're Y/N right?”

You let out a dry laugh. “Do you know how insulting it is to hear your brother say that?” He pulled a face. “We were like siblings. The whole team. We were a family.”

Scott didn't know how to respond.

“It's not your fault obviously but it's fucking tiring. I've come home to find that it isn't mine and it can't be. I don't belong here. Hell, even my mom wouldn't name her dog after me.”

.

.

@killerwendigo @littlecrowtime @geeksareunique @lovelyvaderx @br3nt-12 @st1nkabutt @maximumchilddreamland @catiwinky @ravenmedows @electricreader @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @bisasterbisexual @tzurue @narniansmagic @seamlessepiphany @4ria790 @caramelatae @mei-simp @slightlymediocree @h0n3y-l3m0n05

[tennessoui]

38 for the Ask for OTPs

thank you so much for sending this one in! :D

[from this list of otp questions]

38. Who is more sexually experimental? Who’s more vanilla?

this feels like the age old question lmao is obi-wan a prude or is he a slut and is anakin a no sex before marriage kinda guy or did he sleep around

honestly i love all combinations of answers to that question and i really don't have a preference when it comes to regular, canon obikin

i guess for this specific one about what kind of sex they prefer, i tend to sort obi-wan into being a bit more vanilla with anakin - not because he doesn't have the experience or desire for rougher sex, but because i'm definitely in a huge phase of loving the guilt and shame and angsty emotions obi-wan could have when bedding his former padawan. tying him up or spanking him (hurting him??) on top of taking his innocence would be far too much! meanwhile, anakin wanting everything his master can give him and also everything his master would allow him to take feels pretty on brand - not necessarily in a dark or violent way but certainly in a 'more more more more please more' sort of way which leads me to think of anakin as being more experimental than obi-wan:

"Master, I love what we've been doing," Anakin declares, dropping down onto Obi-Wan's lap and effectively pushing the datapaad out of his way. "Really, I do."

"Oh?" Obi-Wan's tone screams disinterest, but his hands find their way to Anakin's hips all the same. "I didn't realize it was time for my annual review."

Anakin scowls. After about a year of being something more with Obi-Wan, he's realize that, all told--he quite likes him when he's so breathless from kisses that he doesn't have the wherewithal for sardonic quips.

Well, he likes him in all his different forms and variations, of course. Even at his most snarky, he's still Obi-Wan Kenobi and so still someone Anakin loves with his entire being.

"In bed," Anakin adds. "I love what we've been doing in bed. I really do."

Obi-Wan blinks. "Well. Good then, I suppose."

"But I was wondering," Anakin says quickly, before Obi-Wan can steer the conversation in some other direction. "If we were ever going to, you know."

Obi-Wan blinks again. "Going to...." he asks with a furrow of his eyebrows.

"Turn the lights on," Anakin finishes. Now they're both blushing. This is by far both the silliest and most important conversation they've ever had.

"Oh," Obi-Wan says. His eyes have become fixed on a point over Anakin's shoulder. "Is that very important to you?" "Well, it's just that I was talking to Vos, mostly by accident, and we started talking about you, the only thing we really have in common--"

"You're both Jedi masters, you've both raised padawans, you both enjoy romantic literature, you're both incredible pains in my ass--" Obi-Wan begins to list, eyes flashing flinty.

"Exactly," Anakin interrupts. "We were talking about pains in your ass, you know, and he mentioned that he once ran into you at a...a kink club. In the lower levels. And it made me realize that, you know. When we have sex, we don't even turn the lights on usually, and I thought maybe that's just how you were, but not if you went to--to sex clubs as a senior padawan!"

He says all of this quite fast and it's only when he's finished that he realizes he's breathing hard and that his eyes are a bit wet.

"So if it's not you, then it's--it's me," he adds. "Like maybe you don't--actually want me."

Obi-Wan blinks and then his hand is on Anakin's chin, tilting it up to meet his eyes. "Of course it's you," he says. "Of course everything I do and feel for you is different from everything I've ever done and felt in the past. It's incomparable."

Anakin's eyebrows knit together. That's quite a nice thing to hear, but it does little to address his present concerns. "But what if I want the lights on?" he asks, letting his hands rest on Obi-Wan's shoulders. "And like. To tie you up some time. Or to be spanked or something."

Obi-Wan hums and his hand moves to stroke down his hair, tuck a curl behind his ear. "Then let's compromise. What if we start with the lamp on and progress up to the overhead light, hm?"

[philtstone]

I know I already sent a Put Em In A Situation ask, but an alternate option to mix things up: Juliet + Gus, forced to lie about something

Summary: The zombie apocalypse comes to Santa Barbara and turns Juliet into a liar.

Stranger things haven't happened, thank you Gus, but that's not to say there isn't always still time for it.

Y'ALL!!!! i did it. i caved. i wrote a zombie apocalypse au. i feel like the reasons why all of these idiots would effortlessly survive the end of the world are pretty self evident. anyway, gus and juliet my beloveds, and i'm really quite proud of this one ... enjoy!

"The fact that I still have to get my period in the middle of the freaking zombie apocalypse is the height of twenty-first century sexism," Juliet declares angrily, as she makes an emphatic beeline toward Shawn and his armful of stolen Wal-Mart items anyway. "What's the point of scientific progress if birth control can't survive the collapse of civilization? You know who doesn't have to worry about this? Men! Unfair! Anti-feminist, frankly!"

"I'll make sure to tell the zombies that next time we see them," Shawn says, helping her spread the bags out on the ground and handing her the one she's looking for. She digs into it to find Kotex – he sprung for the good stuff, she thinks with a surge of affection, Juliet would've just grabbed the first thing off the shelf – and sniffs a little bit when he pats her gently on the shoulder. Then she tears into the little cardboard box with more vigor than it objectively deserves and stalks off to face the indignity of squatting behind the Blueberry's cracked back bumper while Shawn and Gus graciously direct their focus to the rest of their haul. "Wait," Shawn adds. "I got us air-freshener, too."

"You got us air freshener?" she hears Gus ask skeptically. "You couldn't even remember to do that when it wasn't the end of the world, and you get us air freshener in the middle of the zombie apocalypse?"

"We don't know if zombies can smell blood!" Shawn protests, and Juliet lets out a miserable groan.

Anti. Feminist.

She hadn’t loved the idea of splitting up – or of sending Shawn and Gus off on their own into an abandoned big box store – but someone had to guard the car, and this area is pretty abandoned, anyway. Not even in an eerie way. Just a sad, end-of-the-world one. Besides, the boys have been nothing but competent and reliable and ever-so-useful in a crisis since this whole mess started. Somehow, as the days have gone by, Juliet’s anxiety has only grown anyway. 

“What if they can smell air freshener, Shawn?”

“You know what? No. They can’t smell both at the same time. I don’t care that real life doesn’t operate by a constrained set of rules like every zombie movie we’ve ever seen. There have to be limits to this!”

The limit, Juliet supposes, is that Gus can almost always smell the zombies coming before the zombies can smell them. 

read the rest on ao3!

[random-knowone]

Hi! I'm glad you're posting so much about Harris. Almost no one I follow/am mutuals with has been talking about the election at all even though it's so close, even though they were doing so much back in 2020. Do you have any thoughts on that sort of situation? Maybe it's that they're tired of talking about it, but it's just really concerning. It's like the election doesn't even exist to them, and they stopped talking about it once they couldn't complain about it. (First they complained they didn't like Biden because of his support for Israel. Then he dropped out and Harris took over and they complained about her being a cop and supporting Israel. Then there were a few posts explaining that she was a prosecutor and actually did a lot to help people, and also that she also supports Palestine and wants a ceasefire. After that, it's been absolutely nothing from any of them for weeks. Many of them are Americans living in the US, too. (Though it's more understandable for someone outside the US to not want to bother, even mutuals and people I follow who live in other countries had been extremely vocal about US politics in the recent past, so it still feels strange for them to also be saying nothing about it now.)

Hey there, thanks for reaching out! I think it's a shame that I lot of folks aren't talking much about this election when so much is on the line.

I think a lot of people either don't realize how much is on the line, don't like Kamala for whatever reason they may have, or see it as "obvious" to vote for Kamala and don't bother talking about it because they assume that everyone already will.

My advice would be to talk about it yourself, make and reblog posts about it, be the change you wish to see. And hopefully, your mutuals will see those and reblog them, spreading the word. Especially posts about Kamala's plans for office, and her past record throughout her career, to help the folks who don't know enough about her to make up their minds.

A lot of people seem to have this idea that both parties are the same, or that Democrats never get anything done. I think a lot of this stems from people just not paying close attention to what goes on in politics, which is understandable. The main reason Democrats don't get as much done as they say they will is that they get blocked all the time by Republicans in the House and Senate, which the majority of people seem to forget about.

Many leftists on here don't like Kamala because she worked with Biden, or because of the ongoing issues with the war in Gaza, or because they just don't think she's left-wing enough. The best way to address these types is to remind them that even if they don't like Kamala, she's better than Trump. And one of them is going to be our next president, no matter what. An election isn't about picking the person who matches your values to a T, it's about choosing which of two options you prefer, even if neither are perfect.

In the case of people you're close with, you can talk to them about their views on this election, and answer any questions they might have, or address disinformation they heard.

The most important thing is to be kind and understanding, because at their hearts, everyone wants what's best for our country, and for their loved ones. We just don't always agree on what that looks like. The best way to convince people is to figure out what issues are important to them, and explain how Kamala is the best candidate for them.

[agirlinthegalaxy]

It's been rolling around in my brain the last few days for some reason, but I still hate the family backstory reveals for Sophie and Eliot. I've seen some of the meta for it, but quite frankly, it still makes no sense. If it had been something actually thought of and intentional in the original, I think it could have been so fascinating. I mean, Sophie's willing abandonment of Astrid to contrast with Nate's loss of Sam or Eliot's adoption in contrast with Hardison's and Parker's? Could have been excellent! But they came out of nowhere in Redemption and don't work with these characters.

Sophie was still actively using the fucking alias that she met Astrid under! She met with someone from her past on the show! Like. Quite frankly, that one is unequivocally bullshit that they made up and threw in and pretended could fit with the established canon. (And I'm sorry, but the idea of Sophie abandoning Astrid and never telling Nate about her just... So much of Nate's trauma was rooted in the loss of Sam, and I think that introducing this element after he's gone and unable to respond to it taints Sophie and Nate's relationship in a way bc I'm not exactly sure how Nate would've responded to learning about this but I think that it's something he'd have needed to know. I don't know how to fully express my thoughts on that but yeah.)

As for Eliot, I don't like the adoption aspect literally at all. The way that he would interact with his family and the memory of his family would be different, and I think that it's flat out ridiculous to think that he'd have never mentioned it to the team in the original show, especially when dealing with the kid cases. (I also dislike the biracial adoption as its own element because if Eliot was actually raised by Black parents in the... idk what 80s/90s? That just. doesn't feel congruent with how they write Eliot interacting with PoC, not necessarily in a bad way, but babe, he's written like a white southern man raised in a specific kind of culture that does not jell with that. It also makes Eliot look... really bad that he was apparently raised with the knowledge of how fucked up the military was and his parents' history and made the choices that he did.) Like the show may not have explicitly stated it but the implication of that relationship was vastly fucking different throughout the original show.

Just. These were not backstories that were congruent with their depiction and characters in the original show, and they're also just moves that I don't particularly like or find interesting directions for those characters. There's also something to be said about how it was apparently unacceptable for a woman to not have kids or someone not reconciling with their biological family when that was something that the original show handled a lot better. Out of all the directions to take Sophie and Eliot's stories, that's just not really one that I think was a good idea.

[bylertruther]

some of you never grew up in a small conservative town as a (gay) nerd that was bullied, harassed, and excluded for years on end for not fitting in and for visibly and enthusiastically liking geek things—geek things that then branded you a satanist in everyone's eyes and as something Other, Lesser, and Undoubtedly Unworthy of Basic Human Decency even though you were literally just an actual child with harmless interests and not a satanist or an evil disgusting subhuman thing, and it shows.

you cannot apply modern views and beliefs to a show that is set in the eighties, especially not when it's set in conservative midwest eighties which is a whole other beast. being a socially awkward and nonconforming geek is something that people STILL get bullied for if you don't do it in a way that the majority deems "acceptable", especially if you live in a conservative, religious area.

your experiences are not universal and your inability to relate to a certain motif or story does not make it "lesser" or "bad writing."

[sysig]

See you everywhere, now that you’re gone (Patreon)

[malewifemanhunter]

the best time for your brain to bring up that relationship that you fucked up feominally is when you're right in front of a deadline. oh what could have been if he weren't such a fridgit bitch and if i hid more of myself. maybe he would've still loved me. my heart is heavy and my chest feels numb, and my stomach is burning and my head is foggy. i miss him, but only when it's the most inconvenient

[goldentigerfestival]

I love the vocal nuance in this exchange, but also posting this for my differences posts because this is one of the changes that infuriates me the most. Yuri didn't threaten Ioder, did not threaten him with a weapon, and just said he'd punch him in a lazy, half joking voice (half joking as in, he really doesn't want to hear that - that's just his way of saying so; but that's not the voice of someone who is super angry and threatening).

My other huge grievance is that this is a recurring issue between them in the dub. Yuri is pretty much always vocally rude to Ioder. Ioder has done nothing to wrong him or anyone and has only ever done good for the people where he's able to.

Yet despite Ioder being nothing but sincere, honest and polite with Yuri, in fact even happy to see him here and there, dub Yuri is outright tonally rude to him leading right up this scene where he threatens Ioder in this dark voice. Meanwhile he's actually just supposed to be… lazily telling Ioder he'll punch him in his Yuri Lowell way of saying "I don't want to hear that".

The dub really just wanted to turn Yuri into this dark edgelord and I hate that for my goofy, silly boy.