#it’s just impossible it can’t be done

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗢𝗡 𝗠𝗘 lando norris x girlfriend! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . Lando usually pays for food, take out or groceries. today you decide to pay yourself since it was easier and Lando did not like that (486 words)

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests )

You were curled into Lando’s side like you belonged there, limbs tangled, the TV playing some show neither of you were really watching. It was all warmth and lazy affection—his fingers drawing patterns on your arm, your cheek pressed to his chest, his heart beating slow and steady beneath your ear.

"I'm gonna change the order," you murmured, scrolling through the food app.

"Again?" he chuckled, head tilting to peek over your phone. “Didn’t you already pick, like, five different things?”

“I had a vision,” you said dramatically, tapping at the screen like it held secrets only you could decode. “I want dumplings instead of sushi. It’s a craving emergency.”

Lando grinned, nudging his nose into your hair. “Whatever you want, love.”

A few minutes passed, the air syrupy with comfort, until you hit place order and let out a satisfied sigh.

“Alright,” he said, untangling himself from your hold. “Let me grab my wallet—”

“No need.” You were already settling back into his side. “It’s done. It’ll be here in twenty.”

Lando blinked. “Wait—what?”

You turned your face up toward him, blinking back just as innocently. “It’s already on its way. I used my card.”

“…Excuse me?”

He looked personally offended, hand still frozen mid-reach. The drama in his expression was Oscar-worthy.

“I had Apple Pay ready, and it was faster,” you explained with a little shrug.

He stared at you, betrayal written in every line of his face. “You paid?”

“I did.”

“With your money?”

“…That’s how paying works, yeah.”

Lando gasped, flopping back onto the couch like you'd broken his heart. “Why would you do that? I always pay for food.”

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic,” you laughed, shifting to face him fully. His bottom lip was sticking out, puppy-like and tragic.

“I always pay,” he repeated, grabbing his phone. “I’ll transfer it right now.”

“Lando,” you scolded, stealing his phone from his hand and dropping it onto the coffee table.

“I’m paying you back.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I can’t let you spend your money on me!”

“Too late,” you Hhum, pressing a kiss to the corner of his pouty mouth. “I did.”

He tried not to smile, tried to hold onto the sadness like a martyr. “You’re evil.”

You kissed him again. “You love it.”

“I do,” he mumbled, kissing you this time, once, then again, softer. “But I’m still gonna feel bad about it.”

“Guess I’ll have to kiss the guilt away.”

“Might take a lot of kisses,” he said, nuzzling into you like a big sulky bear.

“Then lucky for you, I’m rich in affection.”

“You’re rich because I’m not letting you pay again.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You’re too good to me.”

You just kissed him again, warm and giggly as he tried to snatch back his phone like a man on a mission. But even with all the fuss, he never pulled away from you. Not even a little.

[thesecretaryy]

┌─ ✦ NOT SO SNEAKY ABOUT THEIR SICK HABITS

MDNI, Yandare JJK men, mentions of stalking, panty stealing, hacking, age gap, jealousy, slight obsession, fem!reader.

Characters; Satoru Gojo, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro.

SATORU GOJO — NERDJO

Satoru wasn’t a jealous person, not at all, right? He thought so until he realised he didn’t want any guy to hit on you. He met you in robotics class, apparently, you only took this class to get extra credit, while he was actually really into robotics. So it ended up with him helping you with everything, programming, building, and writing the report on how the whole work went. And while he did all this, spent so much time with you, He started developing a crush on you, a very big crush.

He didn’t even realise it before he saw one of the guys on the football team giving you his number. He was up almost the whole night thinking about it, until he realised he could literally just remove the football guys number from your phone. The next day, he stayed after school in the robotics classroom and waited until everyone had left, even the janitor. To hack into your phone through the school computer and delete every guys number from your phone.

It wasn’t long after he started doing it, that you caught him.

You had detention one day, and when you were finally on your way home, you saw him in the robotics classroom, sitting in front of a big computer and logging into your account. That’s when you realised that he was the one who had made all those numbers from your phone disappear.

In a way, you thought it was kind of cute. He was too pathetic to ask you out, but he could surely make it impossible for anyone else to do so, either.

CHOSO KAMO — THE PHOTOGRAPHER

Choso thought he was so sneaky. He always sat at three different places, right outside your campus, your favourite cafe, or outside your dorm. At first, Choso didn’t think of it as weird. Just him admiring his pretty best friend, you were just so beautiful. So all those photos he took of you were normal, well, he thought so until he realised that his camera was now only full of photos of you. Then he accepted this new slight obsession as the new “normal”.

Today he was sitting at his favourite spot, right outside your dorm. He was watching you pace around in your dorm, talking to someone on the phone. He saw as you put down your phone on a high surface, and then you started to undress. Choso's eyes widened, and his heart started pounding loudly, loud enough to tune out the noise of the late-night traffic. You lifted the hem of your shirt, slowly peeling it off your body and revealing your black lace bra. To his surprise, right after you had removed your shirt, you walked up to your window. He could see that you were looking for something, or someone, with the way your eyes searched the perimeter. He froze in place when you finally made eye contact. You looked at him for a long while before laughing. Just a minute later, he got a text. “I see you too.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO — THE NEIGHBOUR

You recently moved into a new apartment complex, you had just graduated and were ready for a new chapter in your life, and that new chapter was finally living alone. What you didn’t expect was that you would get a very loud neighbour. It wasn’t that he was loud, just the girls he’d bring over every day.

So one day, you couldn’t take it anymore, you walked the short way from your apartment to his. Knocking loudly on his door, and waiting a few long seconds for him to finally open the door. He just leaned against the doorway, with no shirt and grey sweatpants.

He looked at you confusedly, “Can I help you?” He asked in a low tone. Seemingly not recognizing you as his new neighbour, who moved in more than two weeks ago.

You realized his confusion about who you were and started with, “I just moved in a few weeks ago, and I can’t get any sleep because of your constant…night activities.”

“…Okay?”

“So I need you to ask them to be quieter or get some soundproofing done to your walls.”

He looked you up and down for a few seconds, silently, before answering. “Okay.”

“…Thanks”

Since your short conversation, the noise has completely stopped. It seemed as if he actually listened to you. As a thank you, you brought over beer and sometimes invited him over for dinner. The two of you started to have frequent neighbourly chats and hangouts. You’d learned his name, Toji, and his age, 29. The age gap between you two wasn’t that bad; you were almost twenty, after all. Your conversations consisted of talking about both your work and your friends. You did most of the talking, actually; he mostly listened and answered when you asked something, but he was nice company, and he had a funny attitude.

A few months into your frequent hangouts, you started noticing that your underwear had started to disappear. You remembered that you put them down in your washing bag, but then they never came out clean; they never came out at all. They were just gone. At least five or six of your favourite panties had just disappeared.

You pieced together all the pieces and realized that they had started to disappear right after you'd hang out with Toji, your first thought was obviously that he wouldn't, right?

After one of your longer hangouts with Toji, you saw something right before he left, there was something in the pocket of his jeans. Something bright pink.

“Toji…”

“Yeah?” He said and turned around, now standing halfway out the door.

“My…underwear has been disappearing, you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Slowly, a grin started to appear on his face, he hummed lowly in response before actually answering. “Ahh, caught me have you?”

“…”

“C’mon, you were the one who told me all that noise from my hookups bothered you, and the soundproofing was too expensive.”

“…So you stopped having them over?”

“Yeah, and I needed something else to help me…” He trailed off, but the words that were supposed to come were obvious.

“Get off?”

“Precisely.”

“So you decided to steal my panties?”

“It was just so tempting to know what you'd taste like.”

“Why not have the real thing instead?” You teased, tilting your head to the side as you stepped back into your apartment, insinuating that he could come in again.

[jinuaei]

imagine the whole yandere Soundwave thing but we force the visions to go to us spiking him? please? is it bad i really wanna see him get all flustered, and sensitive, breaking for us?

maybe that's how we catch him and we just have to do something to him?

I assume this is a Yandere! Soundwave x Cybertronian! Reader based on the 'spiking him' part!

Warning: Valveplug!!!

It was a slip of the glossa, a small comment from Starscream about Soundwave being able to hear thoughts and project them that caused you to think deeper about your fantasies, if it even were yours.

You think about the times when those visions are always more intense and clearer every time Soundwave is near, or when you’ve started to think about him more and more when you didn’t even have a crush on him originally. But ever since the first time you’ve ever gotten those thoughts, you’ve been thinking non-stop about him, to the point where even you know it’s not healthy. 

But that comment, Starscream’s words about Soundwave having the ability to send his thoughts to you keeps ringing inside your processor. Doubt creeps through about whether those fantasies are yours in the first place, especially with how detailed it is. The final nail in the coffin was you knowing what he looks like underneath his visor and mask, and you know it is him as your thoughts — Was it even yours to begin with? — Wants you to believe that it is.

So you come up with a plan, to either catch him, or deem yourself as a pervert. 

The next time you meet Soundwave is during a meeting, although you did not commence your plan until near the end of it where Megatron and Starscream are doing their sass match every meeting. You stare at Soundwave, face blank and focused on his body language. 

Of course, Soundwave cannot help but stare back, how can he not? It’s you! With your beautiful optics and amazing frame, it’s impossible not to look at you! Maybe he should listen in on you to see what you were thinking—

Soundwave’s frame freezes as an image of him on his back rolls through, his valve taking your spike to the hilt.  It was subtle, but enough to confirm your theory of him being the actual pervert that has been actively tormenting you with his fantasies. Of course, you would have your revenge.

Soundwave looks at you with bewilderment behind his mask and he sees your expression change into realization. That’s when he realizes he messed up badly, and he can’t leave the room until his boss and co-worker are done with their hissy fits. Your optics darken in delight and you prepare to torment him until the meeting is over.

The image comes back full charge as he is now against the wall getting railed by you. A small whimper tries to come out from his intake but he swallows it down successfully. This torment goes on far longer than he wanted — that’s a lie, he quite enjoys the fact that you would use him like that, like a toy just for your pleasure. He could hear it, even feel it as your spike hits his ceiling node over and over and over. Deliciously sloppy.

Soundwave feels himself grow faint with pleasure, and the subtle dripping of his lubricant is enough to snap him out of his pleasured haze. He can feel it ooze out of the cracks in his panels and on to the seat, he hopes nobody would see it and know it was him.

The longer the meeting goes, the more he feels his overload rises. He feels ashamed at the fact that he’s going to overload untouched and just by your fantasies, he thinks of it as unfair but also so arousing at the same time. Soundwave tries to fight back by steering the visions in another direction but he folds so quickly it;’s almost pathetic.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Starscream and Megatron are done with their verbal match so Soundwave rushes out as soon as the meeting is over, but you are not satisfied. You follow behind him of course and you see his legs shake with every step, and you swear you can also see something glisten between it. His shaky pedes carry him to his destination — his own private quarters. Perfect.

You sneak in behind him before the doors of his berthroom closes, unnoticed since he is too busy rubbing his anterior node. Soundwave flops on his berth, faceplate first, back arched, and aft raised. His servos move lower to poke his valve, drenched in lubricant, he whispers your designation with a whine as his digits finally slipped inside.

“So it’s you…” you said, amused.

Your voice startles him, twisting his frame to look at you, his EM field explodes with shame. He tries to sit up properly but you quickly press down on his pelvis and he lets you. He knew you would be angry, he did, but he cannot deny the shiver of delight when you narrowed your optics at him.

“Was it you who’s been sending those…visions?”

He pauses for a moment, trying to gauge your reaction, “...Affirmative,” and he concludes that he likes it when your glare turns into a smirk.

“Soundy~” he whimpers as his designation is called out, “Did you really expect me not to know?”

He shook his head in denial, pelvis twitching when your servos started to roam his frame.

“Negative. Soundwave: Expected to get caught.”

“Did you now? Did you have some kind of plan when you did?”

Soundwaves in-vent heavily when your servos catch his anterior node, rubbing it gently. He cannot believe what is happening, to think that his fantasies are becoming true right in front of his optics, it feels like a dream, but it’s not, it's real!

“Soundy?”

“A-affirmative.”

He did have a plan. He was going to explain to you why he has been doing it, how much he loves you and what his plan was going forward. What he didn’t account for was you catching him before he was ready to enact his plan, to think that you knew that he was the one that didn’t but he didn’t know that you knew even when he has been monitoring you so closely he knows your whole schedule and everything. To think that you deceived him like a true Decepticon and caught him red handed but…

“This is better.”

The mask and visor that covers his faceplate retracts to show you what he currently feels, faceplate flushed, optics wide open, staring at you in awe and reverence, intake venting hot air which you can feel on your hot frame. His own frame isn’t doing any better, he himself shaking and overheating from your touch. 

You only smile in return as you position yourself in between his legs, your own array on display. He recalls the vision from earlier and he gulps down the coolant that threatens to escape his intake.

“Mmmmhh… you do know you’re projecting those perverted thoughts of yours again, don’t you, Soundy?”

“Apologieeeess–ah!”

He was not prepared for you to suddenly spike him, causing his helm to look down at where you are both connected. The moan that comes out from his intake was so lewd and so debauched that you pulled him closer to you, spike now buried deep inside him.

“And so this is your punishment,” you tilt your helm innocently as if you are not deep inside him, “do you like it?”

“Love it, love it so muhh—!”

You snap your hips once, twice, and it was enough to silence Soundwave. Pleasure spread across his frame and he almost cried with how good you felt, and this time, it’s real.

“You–” Another thrust of your hips causes him to grip your arms for dear life, “have been so naughty, but I can’t deny you when you’re like this.”

You bend down to his audial receptors to whisper the next part, “Which is why I’ll be fragging you the same way the fantasy me has been. What do you say about that, hm?”

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you…!”

“So polite…”

With that, you thrust into him with all your might, him whimpering at how rough you’re handling him. It would be a lie to say you weren’t angry at his deception, especially when you felt so embarrassed every time you’ve been ‘thinking’ about him. So you let out all that pent up anger by railing him hard and rough until you feel like forgiving him.

For now, you’ll enjoy his bare fucked out face and his sweet, tight valve. Maybe you’ll also grace him by playing his spike.

[sunliights]

joshua can feel it when things change; for a moment ripley becomes impossibly tight and then hot, wetness splashes between them. he doesn’t stop his actions, continuing to fuck into them with a force to make every spurt a powerful one. “there’s my good boy,” he groans, movements eventually ceasing so that he doesn’t cum himself yet. keeps his cock lodged inside them so he can feel the tremors of their cunt wrapped around him, how sensitive it has to be becoming to his touch. “that was so good, ripley. so fucking good.” just a shame for them that he isn’t done yet. with a kiss to their shoulder he pulls back, moving away from them and pulling them down until they’re sat on his discarded towel. may as well try to minimise the mess. “you can do it again for me though, can’t you?” situates himself so it’s sat beside them, one leg over his lap so they’re spread out before plunging three fingers into their cunt and starts up a rapid up and down motion — aiming entirely to massage and push into the sweet, soft spot inside them.

"so deep," ripley echoes, feels themself slip higher and with every new second. "you're so deep in me josh." can feel him carve himself inside them like this "belong there–" they don't even warn him that they're close, feels too far gone, though they suppose it's enough an indication when a gush of liquid comes out of them. feels it splash between them the higher they feel pleasure build. "oh my god– ohmygodohmygod baby, baby fuck oh my god!" more spurts out with every outward thrust of josh's cock, their mouth hanging open to let sounds fall out their mouth. doesn't even realize they're orgasming until they can feel it in their head, pleasure that aches so much they can feel it in their bones. cum squirting between them continuously, hot and wet, until the orgasm eventually wanes. even then, they're still arched through their trembling hips, holds onto josh like he was their tether.

[rafeysbangs]

lachesism , rafe cameron ( series ) 12

pairing ; brother's!bsf!rafe x kook!female!reader

content ; mdni !! outerbanks au, eventual smut, angst, violence, underage drinking, family issues, substance abuse, s/a.

summary ; rafe cameron is everything you can’t stand; reckless, infuriating, and too self-assured for his own good. as your brother’s best friend, he’s always been a constant presence, one you’ve done your best to ignore. but the tension between you has always simmered just beneath the surface, sharp and impossible to ignore. you’ve spent years resisting his pull, refusing to give him the satisfaction. but in a world where lines blur and control slips away, you’re forced to face the truth: rafe cameron isn’t so easy to hate after all.

status ; ongoing .ᐟ

✺ navigation ; 011. 012. 013.

TWELVE, veiled intentions

THE HOUSE FELT HEAVIER IN THE DAYLIGHT,

a stillness that seeped into your skin, dense and suffocating. it wasn't the furniture or the walls closing in—it was the words. carter's words, sharp-edged and clinging, lingering in the air like smoke from a fire that refused to die out.

you barely touched your cereal, watching the milk turn warm and the flakes sink like forgotten stones. carter was gone—probably at the field with your dad—but his absence wasn't the relief you thought it would be. it felt like the kind of silence that comes before the sky splits open, a storm waiting to unravel.

your phone buzzed from where it sat on the counter, the sound jolting you back to the moment. you didn't have to look to know it was him.

rafe: come outside.

no punctuation. no pleasantries. just him. direct and unyielding.

you slipped out the front door, careful to pull it shut quietly behind you. the morning sun painted the porch in soft light, but your gaze was locked on him. rafe leaned against his truck, his arms crossed, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. even in the casual sprawl of his posture, there was something electric about him, something that made your heart trip over itself.

"bold of you to show up here," you said, your voice steady despite the chaos inside.

"bold of you to assume i care," he shot back, his smirk deepening.

your arms crossed instinctively, a flimsy barrier between them. "carter knows."

the smirk faltered, his features hardening into something darker, sharper. "what do you mean, he knows?"

"he caught me sneaking in last night." you lowered your voice, glancing at the house, as though carter's shadow might emerge from one of the windows. "he knows something's going on. or at least... enough to be pissed."

rafe let out a slow breath, dragging a hand through his hair in a way that made your stomach twist. "so let him be pissed," he said, stepping closer. "he'll get over it."

you shook your head, her voice tight. "he said he'd end it, rafe. he meant it."

that stopped him cold. his jaw tensed, his knuckles flexing at his sides like he was holding back a storm. "he said what?"

"he said if i didn't end this, he would. and you know he will."

he stared at you for a long moment, his eyes like steel, unreadable but burning. then, he stepped closer, closing the space between you.

"carter doesn't get to decide for you," he said, his voice low, threaded with something dangerous. "he doesn't get to decide for us."

"he's my brother," you snapped, your words tumbling out in a rush, sharp but trembling. "and you're his best friend. do you even realise how... how impossible this is?"

"it's not impossible," rafe said, his tone quiet but unyielding, like he was staking a claim on the truth. "it's only impossible if you let it be."

you stared at him, searching his face for an answer, for a way to untangle the knot tightening in your chest.

he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering just long enough to make you shiver. "tell me," he murmured, his voice soft but insistent, "are you scared of what carter might do, or are you scared of what you might feel if you stop pretending this isn't real?"

the words cut through your defences, slipping past the walls you had so carefully built. you hated him for it—hated how easily he saw the parts of you, you didn't want anyone to see.

"i don't know," you whispered, the admission raw and aching.

he tilted his head slightly, his eyes locked on yours. "then figure it out," he said, his voice steady. "because i'm not going anywhere. not unless you tell me to."

you didn't reply, couldn't. instead, you let the silence stretch between them, the weight of his words settling over you like a second skin.

he stepped back, the moment breaking like glass. "get in the truck," he said.

"what?"

"you heard me. get in."

for a moment, you hesitated, your eyes flickering back toward the house, but the pull was too strong. it always was.

they drove in silence, the tension between them crackling like static. he didn't tell you where they were going, and you didn't ask. you just watched the world blur past, the scenery shifting from neat, orderly streets to something wilder, untamed.

finally, he pulled onto a quiet stretch of beach, the kind of place that felt like the edge of the world. he got out without a word, leaving the door open for you to follow.

the sand was cool beneath your feet, the waves lapping softly at the shore, but your focus was on him. on the way he stood at the water's edge, shoulders rigid, like he was holding the weight of something he couldn't say.

"what are we doing here?" you asked, your voice barely audible above the ocean's hum.

he turned to face you, his expression unreadable. "reminding you," he said, "that we don't need anyone else's permission. not carter's. not anyone's."

his words hung in the air, heavy and certain, and for the first time, you let yourself believe them.

when he kissed you, it was slow and deliberate, a quiet claim that left you breathless. and you didn't pull away.

but as they drove back, the house looming closer with every mile, the spell began to unravel. the weight of reality pressed down on you, suffocating and relentless.

you slipped through the front door like a ghost, your heart pounding in your ears as you crept down the hallway. you were almost to your room when his voice cut through the silence.

"you're making this too easy."

you froze, the blood draining from your face as you turned to see carter leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his eyes dark and unyielding.

"you think i don't know where you've been?" he asked, his voice calm but sharp enough to slice through your defences.

your mouth opened, but no words came out.

"or who you've been with?" he pressed, his tone colder now.

your breath hitched, your chest tightening as you took a step back.

"don't even try to lie," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. "because you're not as good at hiding as you think you are."

the silence between you was suffocating, and when you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper. "you don't understand."

"then make me understand," he said, his eyes burning with something you couldn't name.

but before you could, he shook his head, his jaw tight. "you can't, can you? because you know this is a mistake. and you're just too stubborn to admit it."

he stepped closer, his presence heavy, inescapable. "whatever this is, it ends now. one way or another."

his words hit like a punch, and as he walked away, the silence swallowed you whole.

but you weren't sure what scared you more—his threat or the part of you that wasn't sure he was wrong.

the house felt brittle, like one sharp word would shatter it into pieces. you stood frozen in the hallway long after carter disappeared, your thoughts spiralling in tight, suffocating circles. you wanted to believe the weight pressing on your chest was anger, defiance even, but beneath it all was something harder to name. fear.

a knock at the door shattered the stillness, sharp and hollow in the quiet. you flinched, startled, your pulse kicking up as the sound echoed through the house. your mother's heels clicked against the floor, a rhythm that felt too steady for the tension hanging in the air.

"kids, come here!" your mother called, her voice lifted into a cheerful trill that didn't quite suit the hour.

you dragged yourself into the living room, your steps hesitant. carter was already standing there, his tall frame a rigid silhouette in the dim light spilling from the chandelier above. he was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed, every line of his body coiled tight.

on the coffee table lay an envelope, crisp and elegant, its edges impossibly straight as if it had been hand-delivered moments before. the cameron crest was embossed in gold on the front, the shimmer catching the light.

"look at this! an invitation from the camerons," your mother said, practically glowing with excitement as she waved it through the air like a prize. "it's for a formal cocktail party at the grand. ward's hosting to celebrate some big deal for cameron developments. isn't that wonderful?"

wonderful. your stomach twisted at the word, bile creeping up the back of your throat. there was nothing wonderful about being thrust into the orbit of the cameron's—not now, not when your world was already teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

"it's this saturday," your mother continued, oblivious to the tension thickening between her children. "you'll both need something nice to wear. hon, maybe that dress you wore to the fundraiser last month? oh, and carter, don't forget to polish your shoes this time."

you nodded automatically, mind racing too fast to hold onto anything concrete.

you didn't need to look at carter to feel the heat of his gaze. it was searing, a wordless accusation that wrapped around your throat and squeezed.

"it'll be good for all of us," she added, already turning away, her heels clicking once more as she disappeared down the hall, humming to herself about RSVPs and schedules.

the silence that followed was suffocating, heavy and alive with unspoken words.

carter moved first, stepping closer to the coffee table. his eyes lingered on the envelope, his jaw tightening with every second that passed.

"remember, i warned you." he said finally, his voice low, each word a razor-edged warning. it wasn't loud, but it didn't have to be. the menace beneath it cut deeper than if he'd shouted.

your hands curled into fists at her sides, your nails biting into your palms as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. you tilted your chin up, every inch of you radiating defiance you didn't quite feel.

"you can't scare me, carter," you said, voice steady, though your pulse was roaring in her ears.

his lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile, wasn't quite a sneer. "we'll see," he said simply, as if your defiance was nothing more than a nuisance to be brushed aside.

and then he was gone, retreating down the hallway and slipping into his room without another word. the door closed behind him with a finality that made you shiver.

you exhaled slowly, the air escaping your lungs shaky and uneven. your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the coffee table, leaning against it to steady yourself.

you knew what he was doing. trying to intimidate you. trying to corner you into ending things with rafe before saturday, before the cocktail party turned them all into a stage play for the elite.

but you wouldn't. you couldn't.

rafe's face flickered in your mind—his smirk, his touch, the way his voice softened when he said your name, like it was the only thing he cared to speak. carter could throw all the warnings, all the threats he wanted. none of it would erase what rafe had become to you, what you had become to him.

still, the weight of carter's words clung to you as you made your way back to your room. you sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the faint moonlight spilling through the window. you told yourself you'd deal with it later, that the knot in your chest would loosen by morning.

but you didn't hear carter's phone buzz in his room, didn't see the message that lit up his screen.

ward cameron: thank you for your help with the gleesons, carter. couldn't have sealed the deal without you.

the screen dimmed, the message vanishing into the dark, but its weight lingered, silent and foreboding.

and somewhere deep inside you, beneath all the bravado, a flicker of unease began to grow.

notes ; HI HI HELLO. i know i've still been inactive for ages sorry! but heres chapter twelve finally. regarding my taglist, this is still the old one but if you wanna be removed etc lmk - sorry again

series taglist ; @anacamofficial @sqfewrd @dreamyy-cloud @vampteeth @wtfisastiles @flvredcas @plaidcowboy @sematarygirls @slut4you @kravitzwhore @daryldixon83 @lexavanhuelee @dorcas4meadowes @i2rapunzel @rafestoothbrush @drewizz @6r4cie @akobx @seehowitshines @rafeswhoooreee @vbstrewbieri @waywarddiplomatfarmmonger-blog @ariivv01 @k4yr14 @luvrcndy @teleishachrisy @importantbeardcupcake @vanessa-rafesgirl @ltristessedureratoujours @cutkoskysnix1 @kennedywxlsh @funnyalpca @eeveelizabethh @burnburritono @marleymarleymarleymarley @katiebby04 @simplymaeee @hoppinbunny @slutglimreqpers

[imhappierthanever]

Hey girly, can you make a fic about billie taking care of a sick!reader but they are like very very sick and can it be a longer fic? BTW I love your writing your so talented.💜

Hi angel! Thank you for being so sweet! I hope you like it! 💕💕💕💕

It all started with a little sniffle. Your little sign that you were getting sick. “What was that?” Billie asked you the night before. “What was what?” You asked jokingly trying to hide the fact that you had felt poorly all day.

But you couldn’t trick Billie. She knew you inside and out. She also knew that when you started to get extra cuddly that you were under the weather.

So naturally, when the next morning had come you knew there was no more holding it.

Billie woke up before you, rubbing her fingers through your hair trying to soothe you as you held on to her childhood bunny Lily.

“I’m going to go make you some soup my love. And bring you medicine and tea.” Think you’ll be okay without me for a little bit?” You nodded in response before feeling her lips on your cheek, kissing softly.

She turned on the tv as background noise, but you still heard her in the kitchen singing and cooking away. You smiled to yourself thinking how cute your girlfriend was before you drifted off to sleep again.

When you woke up again, Billie was placing your tray down beside you telling you everything was ready. You scrunched your face, hiding under the blanket, not wanting to eat a single thing whilst feeling this way.

Billie peeled back the covers, pretending she couldn’t find you before acting surprised once she has. “There’s my beautiful girl.” She said propping your pillows, helping you to sit up. “Are you going to be my good girl and eat for me?” Billie asked wiping your face down with a cool cloth before holding up a spoonful of soup.

She was being so incredibly sweet about it all, how could you resist her as you opened up your mouth, ready to get it over with. Once you were all done and you drank your tea and Billie gave you medicine you were ready to lay back down yet again. Which she knew. She herself slipped back into your shared bed, bringing you into lap. Your legs dangled off the edge of the bed, your head resting on her chest as she cradled you, trying to comfort you as much as she could.

“Don’t you have work today?” You asked her as she pulled a blanket over you. She shook her head no before responding, laying her head on top of yours. “I took the day off to take care of you, baby. We’re only in the beginning of the first few steps for the album. Besides, it can all wait. You’re what’s most important to me. Just want you better my love!

“Aww Billie.” You sighed, snuggling into her more, just wanting to be close but not wanting to get her sick. But you know it was impossible to argue. She wasn’t going anywhere.

Together, you watched tv and took naps. You played games and Billie even made you a bath. She put your hair up in a little bun for you, baiting you in lavender as she sang to you, her voice so velvety and gorgeous. You felt yourself slipping into another universe from just her voice and the sweet way she was caring for you.

Once you were all finished with your bath, Billie helped you do your skincare routine, knowing you didn’t want to miss it ever. Once you were all done, she picked out your favourite pyjamas, helping you to slide into them before carrying you back to bed.

“Thank you, Billie. For everything. You’re literally too good to be true and I can’t believe you’re all mine.” Your thumb caressed her cheek, before she lowered herself onto your lips.

“Billie!” You said onto her lips. “You’ll get sick!” You exclaimed, knowing you’d feel awful if she too had been feeling poorly because of you.

“I won’t.” She simply said before going back in, kissing your lips softly. “And besides, if I do I’ll get to spend more time with you!”

Now she was the one caressing your cheek, stroking gently with her finger before she stood, changing into something comfortable to join you.

“I hope you feel better soon, mama.” Billie said, pulling you closer to her, kissing your head. “How could I not when u have the most wonderful girlfriend in the entire world?” You said smiling against her, feeling her do the same.

And it was true. You really did find the best in each other no matter what. If you were sick or in good health- you were always there for each other and nothing felt better. Nothing was better than the love you had for each other. Maybe just the fact that that love grew everyday. But you couldn’t ask for anything more.

You slipped back into slumber, hoping you would dream of Billie even though you had the real thing with you always. And she wasn’t going anywhere as she continued to wrap you up in her arms, keeping you safe and warm and loved.

[ohimsummer]

teen! satoru doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong.

his books go smashing into the floor, papers and notes and homework scattering all over the place. before satoru can even make a move to bend down and grab them, he’s shoved backwards into one of his attackers—a blonde boy about three inches short of his own height. the other kid, the stockier one with brown hair, stomps on satoru’s binder as he approaches, breaking it under his feet .

“aw, man!”, he mocks satoru and makes a gesture like he’s wiping tears from his eyes. “looks like i broke it. my bad.” and then raises his foot to completely flatten the notebook under his shoe. “whoops.”

satoru makes another effortto grab his belongings, but the blonde at his back grabs the neck of his shirt, yanking him off balance until satoru is tripping and scrambling to stay upright.

“stop!”, he tries to command, but his anger is overshadowed by fear and anxiety.

“stop!”, both bullies mimic him in high-pitched voices before laughing at satoru's utter helplessness. the heavyset bully sneers at him. “imagine if your little friends saw how pathetic you looked right now. they would never speak to you again.”

and with his muddled mind, even though satoru is on the verge of tears, he can connect the dots. these guys are obviously jealous of his new friendships. for what, though, he has no clue, but it still frustrates satoru, nonetheless. some of the first companions he’s had since elementary and, what, these guys jealous because he’s not stuck being an easy punching bag anymore or something?

“hey!”, the mean-spirited brunet grabs a fistful of white hair and satoru cries out, face twisted in pain. “what, does it hurt? you gonna cry, loser?”

he doesn’t want to, but satoru can feel the tears about to fall. between the discomfort, the treatment, the incoming migraine from the stress, and, admittedly, the reality of their earlier words, it's almost impossible not to let a few slip. you guys probably would think he looked completely pathetic right now.

satoru squints his eyes open just in time to see the brown-haired bully in front of him raise a fist. instinctively, he goes to shield his face from the incoming assault, but his other captive isn’t having it, grabbing him by the arms to wreste them behind his back. all satoru can do is wrench his eyes shut and tense, waiting to feel the pain of the hit coming his way. but it never comes.

there’s a loud grunt and a sound of scuffling, but satoru doesn’t open his eyes unit he hears familiar voices: it's you and suguru.

the scene before him is something he’s never seen before outside of movies. suguru has the bigger bully pinned to the floor, with one hand twisted tight in the collar of his shirt and the other landing another brutish punch to the bully's now-bloodied face.

the hairs on satoru’s neck begin to rise, but it's not out of fear. he hears a familiar electric crackle, and the arms holding him back are a lot less secure around him.

“wh–what the fuck..!”, the blonde boy stutters behind him. “you–you can’t have that!”

shoko waves the pink stun-gun a little closer to the second bully. “so? what are you gonna do, tell on me?” she toys with a button and blue bolts of lightning hiss. “should i make sure you don’t make it to the principal’s office?”

the boy’s grip loosens even more, and you yank your nerdy best friend away, shoving the bully’s head into the wall behind him as hard as you can. he groans in pain, clutching the back of his skull and barely turns to glare at you before shoko pokes the weapon at him again. he flinches and stumbles backwards…right into suguru’s bloodied fists.

satoru pauses by the door. he’s never ever been in this corner of the school before, never had a reason to. he glances at the words above the doorframe: detention.

peeping in through the window, he spots his friends—you, suguru, and shoko—and also those brutal bullies who attacked him a week ago. they sit far on the opposite side of the room, putting as much distance between them and you three as possible. suguru’s hands are wrapped in gauze, but it's nothing compared to the bandages decorating the other two boys in the room.

as if sensing his presence, you glance up at the door, and your bored frown turns to a wide grin on your lips. shoko and suguru follow your gaze, and return the wave satoru gives them. he mouths a few words at your group—study hall—which you three nod at before he disappears back to where he came.

he’s not allowed in the detention room, and he could definitely be at home playing digimon or doing something else enjoyable. but he has to organize his re-written notes in a new binder, anyway. might as well wait for his best friends to get out of ‘jail’ while he does it.

[mirclealignr]

beautiful teacher | sirius black

sirius black x fem!reader

sirius had perhaps the shortest attention span in the entire wizarding world. there was always something trivial to capture his attention. he was always looking for something. but when y/n was there, he needn’t look far. she was all the distraction he needed.

“sirius? are you listening?” questioned y/n, probing him back into the present.

“sorry, i will this time,” he smiled timidly.

“you said that last time. honestly, you’re impossible.”

sirius watched y/n shake her head with exasperation, knowing she was far too polite to really get animatedly frustrated with him. but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel it.

“i’m sorry, y/n. it’s just, i’ve never had such a beautiful teacher before. i can’t concentrate,” he winked.

“you’re the biggest flirt i’ve ever met,” y/n rolled her eyes. “is that why you get nothing done in mcgonagall’s class? got the hots for her have you?”

sirius was taken aback. what a notion! here he was trying to flirt with y/n and she’d flipped it around most unusually. he must try again.

“no,” he shook his head with a smirk, restoring his composure. “but you sit on the second row, two seats to the right, just where i can see you.”

surely she couldn’t resist now, he thought.

“okay,” she said with a sigh. “i’ll sit at the back from now on. now, where were we?” she asked, more to herself than sirius, for she knew it was frivolous asking him.

“i’ll only turn around if you sit behind me,” he snickered.

“merlin’s beard, black. what will it take for you to sit here and listen so mcgonagall will leave both of us be?!”

though he was startled by her small outburst, he knew this was the pot of gold. this was moment he’d been waiting for, the moment she could not refuse. he hoped it would work—if it didn’t he would surely lose her forever.

“a date. you, me, a picnic at the black lake. it’s the perfect weather for it.”

she scoffed at first, disinclined to fall for his dirty tricks. but sirius’ face did not change—he didn’t laugh, he didn’t brush it off as a joke, he simply waited.

“what, you’re serious?”

“of course i am, will you do me the honour?” he asked, taking y/n’s hand and gently kissing the back of it, all while maintaining soft eye contact.

“you promise to start paying attention if i do?”

“only if you promise to really give me a chance.”

“okay,” y/n nodded, “you have yourself a deal.”

“perfect,” laughed sirius, slapping the table with his hands and standing with excitement. “i’ll see you saturday at 1pm, don’t be late!” he smiled with exhilaration.

“where are you going?! we’re not done!” y/n called.

“i’ll pay attention after our date. i need to get to planning, dear y/n,” he said, a few feet away now. “see you then, beautiful.”

he was too far now for y/n to bother wasting her breath. but as he faded from view she allowed herself a small, hopeful smile.

[insertcannibalismmetaphorhere]

Theres something to be said about how the beta kids’ upbringings are addressed… yet again, homestuck finds a way to make itself larger on the inside; to put details which in any other piece of m edia would be explained in detail- or at least be considered of importance to the story-in a kind of. Schroedinger’s box.(John is afforded the most leeway with this, at least so far as I’ve noticed it.)

Jade managed to survive a virtually impossible situation, from the time her grandfather died and onward. Especially considering her narcolepsy? Its an outright miracle she made it through. But we as the audience aren’t really supposed to believe that jade simply put to use her survival skills and worked hard to survive. She didn’t fall asleep in inconvenient places and narrowly escape. The time between her childhood and the beginning of the comic neither happened nor didn’t happen.

When we see Dave in his house full of smuppets with his fridge filled with swords, and we hear him explain that bro does not feed him (and presumably never has) it contradicts with a (under normal circumstances) immutable fact of the world: that people need to eat. We know that dave has made it this far because of…? something. But it’s not exactly expected of the audience to fill in what exactly Dave’s been doing. He doesn’t have a neighbor who’s happy to feed him. He doesn’t make the most of school lunch. Functionally, (and excluding bro) not a single other person lives in the whole of Texas! And even if they did, Dave- who FELL FROM THE SKY ON A METEOR- does not legally exist in the capacity which is required to be enrolled in a public school. Simply, dave neither ate nor didn’t eat.

The character who i think is affected most relevantly by these non-facts is Rose. (Although really, all of the strider-lalondes are much more affected by their actual pre-canon lives than any of the other kids.)

For someone whose schooling and social life pre-canon literally do not exist, Rose acts exactly how you’d expect a lonely teenage academic from a small town to act.

Parishville, NY (technically where the lalonde residence is, if we take homestuck way more seriously than im sure was intended) currently has a population of just over 2,000 people. If you’re from a small town (or even if you’ve seen an episode of any 2010s teen drama about “small town life”) you know exactly how suffocating that can be.

Without straying too far from topic, there are innumerable ways in which capitalism has failed america. The “American dream” relies on an idea of upwards mobility that is simply nonexistent for those raised in small towns- those raised without money and without resource. Nonetheless, theres an idea that seems to thoroughly permeate any small community: you have to get out.

You have to get out because you have to become something better than this. You have to get out because you can’t risk becoming your parents. You have to get out because if you don’t, you haven’t done anything with your life. You’ll work at the liquor store or the gas station or whatever adjacent dead-end job until you’re too old to work or you die- whichever comes first.

On my first read-through of homestuck, one of the panels which stood out to me most was 4989, in which Rose explains to Dave that yes, a dream self can be drunk. Specifically, she says “There wasn’t very much to do. But there was a house full of liquor.”

While Rose didn’t *actually* excel in academics- and while she wasn’t *actually* ostracized from her peers for her grim outlook and intellect- we see shadows of the effects throughout her character for the entire run of the comic (And hsbc if you’ve had the displeasure.) Rose is afforded much more significant consequence to her upbringing than most other homestuck characters- especially the female ones.

I don’t really have a conclusion here, just something i’ve been chewing on..

[b33zlebubz]

RIGOR MORTIS | CHAPTER FIFTEEN

SIMON RILEY X AFAB READER | 18+ MDNI | MASTERLIST | AO3

PREV CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS: reader uses she/her pronouns, fluff angst & eventual smut, blood violence & death, suicidal ideology, slow burn, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, toxic workplace environment, flashbacks, implied past SA

“Abandoned in a battlefield with the one person you thought you would never see again; you're forced to come to terms with the ghosts of your past."

SUNDAY APRIL 29TH 2024

MEXICO, 0700 HOURS

Soap thinks that he might explode.

The radio has been static.  Silence.  Dead.  It hasn’t left Price’s hand and Soap severely doubts his finger has left the button, either.  Not since promising that they were on their way, two whole days ago.  Too long ago.  Anxiety coils tight in his chest with each second of tense silence, a ticking time bomb.

Seven days.  Over one-hundred hours Ghost and you have been stranded in this fucking country, a number that only grows by the moment.  The more time passes the bigger of a chance he’ll find you both dead in a ditch somewhere; and the thought bothers him more than he’d ever admit to anyone.  Ghost: dead—for some reason his mind just won’t compute it.  Can’t happen.  Impossible, even.  

And all Soap can do is sit and fucking wait while the man who’s saved his life time and time again is out there somewhere.  It makes his throat feel tighter than he’ll ever admit, more than even he predicted.

Not that he ever predicted this—Ghost being stranded and half-dead, of all people.  Soap thinks he’s only ever seen the Lieutenant injured a handful of times; less so than his own Captain.  A ripped sleeve from a stray bullet, a busted glove from a wrong punch.  But nothing serious.  Nothing as damning as blunt force to the head, nothing to get him discarded into a ditch like he was just any old soldier.

It was unsettling.  Disturbing.  Right fucking terrifying, seeing Ghost get distracted and injured.  Seeing him hesitate at the sight of air support they hadn’t accounted for, open firing at the armor supporting them.  The armor you supplied them with. The armor you were in.

Soap watched Ghost’s eyes flicker with panic when he realized, watched him completely change course and abandon everything to bolt in the opposite direction.  Watched him abandon mission and run full-speed towards the tanks. Soap had called for him, but hell reigned down on them before anything could be done.  In the moment he’d been pissed, but now?

Now just thinking about that moment he saw Ghost’s eyes change makes Soap’s jaw clench.  Makes his throat tight and stomach uneasy. 

Bleeding Jesus, Simon, what the fuck did you get yourself tangled into?

A torrential downpour assaults the helo, a constant muffled rumble outside the gear that covers Soap’s ears.  To his right is Gaz, clutching a rifle close as his foot taps erratically against the floor.  Expression tense, he stares out from under his hat at the fog and the rain. 

In front of Gaz is Laswell, hunched over a laptop.  Wisps of blond hair beginning to fall out of her bun, a nasty cut still remains on her cheek from the battle a week prior.  Everyone is beat up, running on fumes, painkillers, and anxiety from the fiasco—but no complaints leave anyone’s mouths.  No words at all.  Soap shifts, the arm he keeps in a sling aching dully with the movement, fingers twitching.

Tension weighs like a heavy, hot, suffocating blanket.

“‘Better not be fuckin’ dead,”  Soap mutters to the other sergeant to his right, just loud enough to speak through the rain.  The first thing anyone has said in twenty minutes.  “Or I swear I’ll lose it.”

Gaz takes a breath, sitting back in his seat.  

“Gotta stay optimistic,” he says.  “He’ll be fine.  He always is.”

“And the Colonel?”

Gaz sends a loud glance Soap’s way.  From all the information Price got from Ghost—it was unlikely you’d make it.  With that, plus the radio silence, and the very real idea that Ghost may be underplaying his injuries—whatever lay ahead of them won’t be good.  Nobody said so, but everyone was thinking it.  Gaz doesn’t say anything.

Soap only met you a few weeks prior to the fight—right there on the tarmac as he stepped off the plane into Mexico.  A wave of deja vu overcame him, inhaling his first breath of humid, warm air since that disastrous mission in Las Almas.  The one that brought him and Ghost together—taught the stubborn, aloof lieutenant to trust someone.  Soap swears he’ll bully the lieutenant into spilling his guts.  Filling the gaps of the story he’s only heard bits and pieces of from Price.

From the second he left that plane, Ghost wouldn’t stop staring at something off at the end of the room.  Following his gaze, Soap’s eyes landed on you.  The laptop under your arm and the men you surrounded yourself with.  Beside you was Laswell, here to introduce you as the new member of the team for the mission at hand.

Anyone who Price trusted immediately held his respect, but he finds you’re a special kind of scary.  A pretty thing, one of the few women on the base other than Laswell, but strong and reserved.  Tired eyes jaded, permanently focused.  Uniform, hair, posture all scarily perfect, disciplined.  You were straight to the point and didn’t fuck around—traits he also admired in his Lieutenant, who was conveniently missing for your introduction.

A woman who’s seen shit.

“You must be MacTavish,”  you said, giving Soap’s hand a firm shake—a small smile gracing your lips.  It suited you, something unexpected out of someone so intense.  “Price speaks highly of you, yeah?”

He nodded.  “Aye.  Likewise, Colonel.”

“Angel,” you corrected politely.  “No need for formalities, seriously.”

“Angel?”  He says, feeling bold.  “For your looks or your attitude?”

You only huffed, shaking your head in an amused manner.  “Depends on how well this goes over.”

“Aye.  Call me Soap.”

“How’d you get tacked with that?”

“Long story,” he replied, though it really isn’t.  “Wouldn’t mind telling ye over a coupla drinks, though.”

At that, you laughed, deciding to humor the younger sargeant.  “I might have to take you guys up on that offer, Sarg.”

Soap decided he liked you.

When Ghost reappeared a few minutes after you busied yourself rounding up other soldiers; he was pretty sure that opinion isn’t unanimous.  The lieutenant paid close attention to Price for only a few minutes before his eyes were back on you again, off at the very other end of the room.  His grip on his pack was white-knuckle tight.

Soap could probably count the number of times he’s seen Simon this uneasy on one hand.  But this?  This was different.  There was something else there; something that made his eyes dilate.  Something nervous.  He remembers scoffing at Ghost the first time he noticed his lieutenant’s lingering eyes, jabbing his side with an elbow.  Giving him the benefit of the doubt, he kept his skeptically lighthearted.

“Pretty one, ain’t she?”  He teased.  “Name’s Angel. ‘Invited us all out for drinks after the debrief; seems like another close friend o’ Gaz and the Captain.”

Still, Ghost’s gaze didn’t leave your face.  Dark eyes unreadable through the skull mask and day-old eye black.  He grumbled indifferently, dropping his pack with the others.

“Won’t be there,” he muttered.

Soap gave him a look, confused.  “Why not?”

He didn’t reply.  Confused, Soap lowered his voice, leaning in to speak over Ghost’s shoulder.  

“L.t.,”  he said, low and serious.  “You know ‘er?”

The lieutenant’s eyes narrowed, still locked on where you stood across the large room—escorting a handful of your batalian out somewhere.  Ghost isn’t tense in the way he gets around enemies, and if he had a problem with working with you the team would’ve heard about it before the flight.  Yet, still, he stares.  Uneasy for a reason Soap can’t read.

Soap realizes his Lieutenant might actually be shocked to see you: a stranger—as far as he knows.

Then, Ghost turns and walks off to follow Price.  That strange, foreign look in his eyes disappears as he grunts; “mind your own, Johnny.”

Knowing better than to pry, he does just that.  He figures, if anything, he might get some answers out of Ghost after everything is said and done—if he’s still alive.

Soap is pried from his memories as the helo lands and everyone scrambles for their gear.  Gaz taps his shoulder and he jumps to his feet, hooking his pack over a finger and hauling it over his shoulder as Price barks orders. 

“Search the area, keep your guard up.  We don’t know what's out there—what’s got ‘em staying quiet.”  Price is tired; voice raspy and hoarse from one two many nights awake, a few too many cigars—the way it always is when missions go tits-up.  “You see anything out of the ordinary, report it immediately.”

“Copy!”

Just as Soap goes to step out behind Gaz, Price’s hand taps his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

“You stay,”  he says, patting his vest.  “Watch Laswell’s six.”

Soap blinks, heart dropping to his feet.  “what?”

“You can’t shoot with that arm, Sergeant.  Stay and keep watch.”

Soap’s heart beats hard in his chest.  Just the thought of leaving Ghost out there, leaving him abandoned again in this godforsaken country leaves a sour feeling in his mouth.

“Simon could be dead out there and you want me to stay?”  He growls lowly to his Captain before he can stop himself.

Price sighs in that way he does when Gaz questions his orders.  Understanding the frustration, but also needing the cooperation with so much to worry about,  He squeezes Soap’s shoulder.  Jaded eyes are sincere and tired under his hat.

“We’ll get ‘em back, Soap,”  he says.  “Stay.  Here.”

Soap bites his tongue, only watching as the others step out and disappear into the billowing underbrush and pouring rain.  First Price, then Gaz—who sends an apologetic look Soap’s way as he jumps down into the grass.  The fire of anxiety in Soap’s chest only coils tighter now that he can’t find you or the Lieutenant himself, stuck inside the helo as backup because of his arm.

“Fuckin’ bullshite,” he growls to no one in particular as he ducks back inside.

[galindaarduennaa]

Galinda watched as Elphaba stood up and looking at her, grinning evilly before turning and walking back into the room. Elphaba was just going to walk away? She wasn’t going to stay and face Galinda after doing all of this? As Elphaba walked out and mentioned the sorcery seminar, Galinda’s rage doubled. If Pfannee and ShenShen hadn’t have been in the room she might have started screaming. Doing that to the room and rubbing the sorcery seminar in her face? She tried her best to breath and not become overly upset, but it was almost impossible.

Pfannee and ShenShen both started talking quickly. “Galinda, you have to tell Ms. Coddle about this! She touched your things! She moved all of your things around without asking! They can’t make you share with her any longer after this!” Galinda slowly walked back into the room, trying to take deep, calming breaths. “We will help you clean all of this up and put everything back together! She cannot do this to you!”

Galinda stood in front of the pile of all her possessions, staring at everything and taking it all in. Her first instinct was to take all of her possessions and fill every inch of Elphaba’s space so that she couldn’t access her bed or desk. She had done something similar the day before and it had backfired, plus Elphaba was probably expecting her to do something along those lines. Pfannee had started to evaluate the pile and was offering suggestions for how they could move things most efficiently. Suddenly, the perfect idea came to her.

“I don’t think we’ll want to put everything back where it was. Let’s just get everything moved so it’s not all piled up and somewhat sorted. I’ll take care of the rest later.” She smiled to herself knowing that Elphaba would never expect what was coming.

Classes and University Life pt2

Elphaba was still so confused as to what was going on as she watched Galinda look around and then just simply get up and go get her food like nothing happened. So she was telling people what happened?! Why would she do that? Elphaba agreed to let her look at her sorcery text books, she figured that would get her roommate off her back for a little bit. But this was just insane. The audacity of her to go behind Elphaba’s back and just tell the story to everyone anyways.

She wasn’t even slick, all her little followers were being so outwardly aggressive towards Elphaba. Had Galinda told them to do that? To call her names and glare at her? She had to have right? Otherwise she would have told them to stop. It was so simple to end this and she just wasn’t doing it.

When Galinda looked at her then put her head down to eat, Elphaba knew the truth. She’d lied to her to get access to her class materials. She was mad at herself for thinking maybe she and her roommate had maybe turned a new leaf and could potentially be friends. That clearly wasn’t going to happen.

Elphaba stood up to throw her tray away and was surprised when someone stepping into her path “Galinda is just so good for dealing with you” he told her harshly and Elphaba stepped back to avoid being run into. So now she was sending people to attack her? Elphaba slammed her tray down and headed for the exit. She can’t believe she believed Galinda earlier!

[jack-kellys]

i hate the song something to believe in dearly and truly. it’s the one part of newsies i cannot reconcile because it’s just so bad

please fix it. or do something with it

it’s just not a banger i agree. alright.

send me issues from the Plot or Script of this darn show. and i’ll fix them onstage

so my rules for this is that i cannot cut the song. i cannot invent a scene bc i did that already & that’s cheating.

i do think tho that the key to being… fine with something to believe in is the scene right before. i think that scene MUST be fucking stellar in order for the song to be passable. and the scene before…augh. it could also be written better. the positionally of it and the context and the stakes are more interesting than what they say to each other. except. for.

“don’t say it like it happens every day. i’m not an idiot- i know girls like you don’t wind up with guys like me. i don’t want you promising nothing you’re just gonna have to take back later. but standing here tonight, looking at you… i’m afraid tomorrow’s gonna come and change everything.” EATS.

what’s rly important abt jatherine to me is that jack like. literally does not express his fears to anyone else except her. he talks about regret and anger with davey in wwh(r), i’m not counting that as fear. kath is the only person in the show he shares this with. and what he’s afraid of is being alone.

tomorrow coming means he did vote for the disbanding of the union, it means all the kids he loves are angry and done with him, tomorrow means everyone is gone from his life. (in his pov).

so katherine has a job with this song. she has to refute those fears, finally admit that she’s fallen for him, which means he won’t be alone, even if he leaves. he’ll be in her heart, he’ll have a home there, even if he were to get on a train the next day. she initially comes into this scene demanding something of him, but when she learns his actions were done out of this loyalty and his fear for others & himself… wow. “you snuck up on me, jack kelly. i didn’t even see it coming.” YOU KNOW?? going from “cocky little sonofa” to “of course there’s something” is wild for her

she needs to see him FULLY and completely by this point. idt she does until now, it has to be here for this scene & song to mean anything. this is her almost like. protecting his scared little heart. she says she’s in love (he doesn’t), she assures him it’s okay that it might be for a short time, that it’s random, that things like this CAN be something that happens any day. she offers terms that are accessible to jack, that can let him love her. belief conquers fear, undermines it, and if there’s something reporters are good at it’s getting to the root of something. she just has to take an angle that she didn’t expect from herself.

i think honestly the only line that genuinely bugs me abt this song is jack calling her “an angel come to save him”…. especially cause that boy ain’t white anymore we’ve grown passed that as a community so now it’s like. eugh like SURE, sure, but jack u did lead the strike. with ur boys. and ur leadership skills. and ur love for them. so i think this can be said as a knowing tease and she can wave it off and blush and whatever. u can make it cute i promise.

smth abt uksies that was stellar (wow what a shocker rizz is praising uk newsies…) was how emotive and present bronté’s kath was thru this song, she reacted to every word jack said to her. as long as she’s present i think this scene and consequentially the song can work. u just cannot forget abt katherine’s stakes and her journey of learning abt who jack kelly really is. it’s not a bad song bc it’s a love song it’s bad bc it’s not…. actually about how THEY fell in love. the courage and fear line from seize the day should’ve had a reprise moment here bc that’s what their relationship is based on.

if newsies rly was a love story i think that would be the proper theme through their whole arc together. jatherine is about fear and courage. and so is the show. tbh. just saying

[valkyurii]

i know people love to complain about malenia still but have they ever thought about the fact that complaining won’t change anything and maybe instead of bitching and crying they could just learn to fight her? all those hours spent on reddit writing essays and for what exactly? she’s still there. nothings changed. do they hope that fromsoft will see it and then change her? “she’s a sekiro boss” go play sekiro then i honestly don’t know what else to tell you at this point holy shit

[cynicalmusings]

*drops this in your inbox*

*leaves*

HDKRPOAANKLRFAQPBPQWJJEJBENWLAERHLAAPEPFKANKELELE WAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

my heart. genuinely. is in danger.

HE’S SO BEAUTIFUL I WANT TO CRY YOU CAN’T JUST FUCKING WINK AT ME LIKE THAT AND EXPECT ME TO BE OKAY YOU DORK?? (affectionate)

heizou needs to start getting a permit for being the most beautiful man alive it’s not even funny

[frnkiebby]

sobbing~🎃