#just to have something else to fiddle with when i get frustrated with the dialogue i'm working on

[thecraftgremlin]

I'm literally animating a long and fairly complex dialogue shot right now and my stupid ass is like "Ok but what about animating ~*ballet*~?"

[zeppeli-reelstallbun]

The Exception

Prologue - Chapter 1

[PAIRING] Bucciarati x Reader (afab-she/her) (multiple pov)

[SUMMARY] Your date was a disaster, and your expectations had already been low to begin with- but a good friend does what she must. Read the prologue first!!

[WC] 2.5k APOLOGIES they will not be this short in the future. These first two parts are plot important for setup reasons, unfortunately. Just didn’t want to put more than one pov in a single post yall

[!!!] language, concept is inspired by goodfellas, so a lot of dialogue and narration has been picked straight from that. not cannon accurate, google translated Italian, pulling things out of my ass in terms of locations and such, lmk if I missed anything,

[A/N] Woof, here’s chapter one as promised. They will be longer moving forward, I swear. Eh I don’t feel that bad, these were posted on the same day. Uhhhh yeah don’t know what else to say except that I got my nails done and now they’re a bitch to type with so that’s pretty cool. Also, merry early Christmas for those who celebrate :)

Also also, as someone who hates reading oc names in fics 99% of the time, the made up friend character means nothing to me and will be gone so soon. Toodles.

I can’t stand him. In fact, I’d call him obnoxious. He’s just sitting there, fiddling with his watch like this isn’t worth his time.

It had been like this the entire night, and you were beginning to wonder why you even agreed to join Lucia in the first place. It seemed like Guido was a decent guy, at least if you ignored his questionable taste in friends. Thankfully she was having a good time, sitting and laughing and leaning into his chest like she wasn’t hesitant to go out in the first place. Yes, your expectations had been low to begin with, but the behavior you witnessed at dinner was nothing but insulting. And then, before it was time to go, your date was rushing you out of the restaurant! It was ridiculous how he paraded you to the vehicle as if this were a successful night out, hand hovering over the small of your back until needed to open your door.

You didn’t feel like it was overdramatic to call this evening a failure. In fact, that word seemed a gross understatement even now.

If it weren’t for one exchange he initiated on the trip home, you might have believed the entire thing had been orchestrated to get you away from Lucia. At first, you were confused when he pulled up the driver's privacy screen; was he about to give you a reason to be concerned?

”I realize tonight wasn’t…” he paused, picking his next word carefully, “optimal.”

You didn’t give him a response, keeping your knees shifted away from him and your posture neutral.

He continued, “Mista didn’t invite me until yesterday. I already made a commitment to meet with my supervisor tonight, something I couldn’t change even if I wanted to. But he couldn’t really ask anyone else.”

“Lucia practically begged us to meet them again Friday-“ you began, getting ready to give him a way out.

“Guido wasn’t much better,” your date interjected. “I think he would have dropped to his knees if we told him it would secure a yes.”

In spite of yourself, a laugh escaped from the bottom of your stomach. He was witty, you realized. And worse, he delivered it in the same, dry tone he used in regular conversation. The combination left you speechless, if only temporarily.

“I won’t be able to pick you up,” he continued before you could object, “but I can take you home again, if you’d prefer. Can we meet at the restaurant?”

Fine. You thought as you nodded your head. One more chance. All things considered, I can give him the benefit of the doubt.

You didn’t think of anything else for the remainder of the drive. Not the fact that your date seemed to have a personal driver, nor the suspicion in meeting an employer so late in the evening. You were only focused on getting home and trying to put aside your personal frustrations for the next time you dined with Bruno Bucciarati. After all, he still took the time to walk you to your door. Did he factor this into his schedule? Did he plan to leave with time to escort me home instead of letting me third wheel?

But, you weren’t willing to think about that right now.

He hadn’t proven that he deserved it, at least not yet.

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

Guido was more than happy to drive you to dinner alongside Lucia, though you knew this was an attempt to gain your friend's favor more than anything else. Regardless, you appreciated the gesture. It beat walking halfway across the globe to reach the restaurant, which seemed to have been picked for its inconvenient location over anything else. Still, you wouldn’t complain. You didn’t need to worry about the transportation, and you likely wouldn’t have to pay for your meal again. He might have been closed off during conversation, but Bucciarati didn't even let you touch the check. Besides, it would be a challenge for the second dinner to go worse than the first one…

Perhaps that thought was responsible for your hesitance to admit he stood you up.

First it was five minutes. Then ten. Then fifteen, and you were escorted to your seats. Twenty, and the waiter checked in on the table. Twenty-five, and his friend explained that one more might be coming. Thirty, and you felt your hopes drop completely. Oh well, guess I dodged a bullet.

“I feel terrible. I don’t know where he is.” Mista finally said, confronting the elephant in the room. The waiter had taken their orders, it felt awkward pushing him back any longer. You had insisted the couple have some sort of date, you really didn’t care that things didn’t work out… It wasn't your fault Mista had unreliable friends.

“You know, he really liked you too,” he continued, turning to Lucia, “all he did was talk about her. He liked you.”

Sure. Maybe last night I could have believed that.

You were a trio instead of a double date that night. But you didn’t really care. Did you? Even second guessing that feeling of apathy made your stomach churn, why should it matter that one guy didn’t work out. Worse than that, however, Guido thought he was making things better by bringing it up every time he saw fit. What you thought would be simple enough to ignore instead continued to grow with each minute that passed. By the time dinner wrapped up, you considered yourself angry with the man.

With the same grating voice you had become accustomed to, Mista began to ramble again, “He should have called, I hope it’s nothing serious. He really isn’t like this, ever.”

“Then why don’t we do something instead of just talking about it.” You finally snapped back, dropping the fork from your hand. You’d had enough of the idle chatter, enough of the unimportant setup. It was time for Mista to put his money where his mouth was.

“What?” He asked, brows furrowing.

“Let’s go find him.” You were being dead serious, the extravagant wine in your system encouraging you to rip him a new one. “You know where he spends time, I assume.”

Pleadingly, you locked eyes with your friend, praying she would understand what you were telling her. He’ll do anything you say right now, he’s wrapped around your finger.

You don’t know why you even doubted her, she read your mind with ease. “Pleaaaase Guido-“ she whined, wrapping her arms around him while tossing her head back. “We could stay at mine if we’re out too late looking for him.”

Frankly, the tone of her voice left you impressed. I owe you big time, you said with your gaze. She rolled her eyes at you, unknown to the boy escorting them out. ‘Lord, you have no idea,’ you guessed she replied.

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

While you assumed Guido would be a careful driver at first, all notions of the concept had fleeted by the time you reached Napoli Centrale.

You had nearly been ready to give up. In reality, you had only been driving for upwards of an hour, but it felt like you were trapped in the car with the couple for days. The sun had long begun its descent, street lights now illuminating the water lined streets. There wasn’t a man on earth worth all this trouble, regardless of how pissed you were at him. You were about to voice your defeat, when your friend's date caught a glimpse of the less than subtle blue hair. You didn’t even have the time to voice an objection before the car drifted to an enthusiastic halt.

Guido had given you an entrance, his brakes squeaking enough to burn rubber and announce your presence to the entire block. Whatever you decided to say, it needed to match that urgency. There was nothing left to do but open the door and step out of the car, fists clenched so as not to show their trembling.

Unaware of the storm approaching, Bucciarai recognized the vehicle, if nothing else. “Mista, I don’t have time-”

“You have some nerve standing me up.” You cut him off, slamming the door behind you as you made your way to the paved entryway he was occupying. “Nobody does that to me.”

He wasn’t alone, you noticed. Fuck. “Who do you think you are, some big shot? Think you’re pretty enough to be a casanova?” The group of men around him loosened up, muttering a bit at the show starting in front of them. One even let out a laugh at his expense.

You savored the look on his face, the perfect mix of shock and awe. His mouth fell agape, but he quickly pulled himself together.

Turning to take one more look at his friends, Bruno stood to greet you. His legs closed the distance with ease, and he brought his hands as he spoke. “Take it easy. Slow down, all right?” He smiled convincingly, eying you up and down to gauge how pissed you might have been. “I forgot. I thought it was next week.”

You threw your head back, unimpressed as you spat, “It was Friday. It was this Friday. And you agreed.” What did it even matter? “Fuck off-”

He took a step forward as you began to turn away, reaching out to grab your wrist. Gentle, you noticed, despite the stern command in its nature. “Hey, we can talk about this,” he nearly asked, “take it easy.”

The group of boys laughed at him. Any variation of ‘calm down’ is universally frowned upon when confronting an upset woman, how Bruno managed to forget this was unfathomable. For his group of boys, this was the luckiest day of their life. Finally, something to hold over the perfect mafiosos head. For you, however, this was the final straw.

“Talk about it?” You asked slowly, furrowing your brows and tilting your head as if saying ‘that’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.’

“Talk to you after what you just did to me?” You were smiling, shaking your head as one of the onlookers let out an ‘oooooooh.’

“Forget it. I’m not talking to you about anything.” You finished, pulling your hand back. That’s when you noticed it -- the look in Bucciaratis eyes that left you second guessing your anger. According to his dark gaze, you were something between predator and prey. A challenge to be untangled. A delicious meal laced with deadly poison. You wanted to gag for even thinking something so cliche.

Unknown to you, it’s not often someone speaks to Bruno this way. Unknown to you, this sparked his interest more than anything else. Aside from his superiors, this behavior wouldn’t have been tolerated… In all honesty, he would have put a stop to it immediately if you were one of his boys. If you were anyone else, he wouldn't have dealt with you at all.

But, here you were. Some civilian girl somewhere in between the two, allowed to make a public mockery of his shortcomings. The boys sitting behind him did not take this lightly, this you recognized if nothing else.

“I thought you would stand me up. You looked bored. You didn’t say anything. What do you expect? Hmm?” You turned, rolling your eyes while shifting your weight. His grip on your wrist gave him one final point of leverage over you. Pulling you back towards him once more, the two of you locked eyes.

“Well-” he began, eyeing you up and down again, “let me make it up to you.”

It must have been the way his gaze lingered. Despite your anger, a part of you never wanted anyone to look at you with that same hunger ever again. Only him. You wanted to capture Bucciaratis' look of yearning, it had felt like you deserved to. You had gone through this much trouble to obtain it, after all.

But still, he didn’t deserve a solid answer from you. “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll make it up to you. Next Friday,” he patted his jacket, taking a moment of composure to look for something, “I’ll pick you up at 8.”

Bold. Straightforward. It was a start.

“You’ll show up to my house at 8,” you corrected, beginning to walk back to Mistas car, “I’ll decide if you’re picking me up or begging.”

A chorus of laughter and mockery rang in your ears as you turned back to the car. If nothing else, that group of boys wasn’t going to let their friend hear the end of it.

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

This is purely self indulgent slop, also, im about to go get so baked in my childhood bedroom - wish me luck

[forcebookish]

3, 17, 22, 23 and 24 for the fic writing ask game!

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

typically, something pops into my head and i either write it down on my notes app or directly in an ideas doc (i have, like, five or six separate ones), and then it just kind of haunts me - usually the notes i write are of specific scenes that involves a loose outline of stuff that happens and what people talk about with some actual dialogue mixed in. then when the notes get long enough, it gets its own document. i usually have everything plotted out, including the ending, before i start actually writing it, and i usually start from the beginning with opening lines and then i jump around. with multi-chapters, my notes are a little more organized and i'll write scenes individually. no matter what, it's a mess.

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

throw a tantrum lol nah there's usually a source for the writer's block, so i try to pinpoint it. it could be something that's bothering me irl, a problem i haven't solved in the story itself, or that my creativity is wanted elsewhere. when i got the idea for that soul thingie, i couldn't work on anything else and it was super frustrating, but once i actually turned my attention to tst, i got into a flow and was able to finish it very quickly - and after, all other writing came easily!

22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc.)

the big ones are mystery and horror. i love reading or watching them, but i'm just not up for something that intricate and technical. i also won't write omegaverse/mpreg lol

23. Best writing advice for other writers?

this is gonna sound stupid, but write what you want and specifically don't try to make excuses for it. readers will notice when you hold yourself back and the product wasn't what you wanted it to be - the audience your work would speak to won't be happy and everyone else will be bemused. don't make something toothless just because you think you "should" - some fiction should have bite.

think pg-13 slasher movies. who are those for, really? not slasher fans!

24. Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?

don't edit as you go. HEAR ME OUT: the goal of this advice is well-meaning, yes, it's so you're not fiddling or pecking away at your work and therefore never getting words on paper - but there is something to rereading your work especially when you're stuck to better know what you've already established, if something needs to be elaborated on earlier, and to not repeat yourself.

get to know your fic writer!

[velvetcloxds]

LOVER | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Requested by: @fairydxll

Word count: 1.2k

Warning: none really just fluff, little dialogue heavy as always

Summary: Bucky helps you make your little apartment feel more festive before your parents come to visit on Christmas

A/n: Part four of my Taylor Swift song fics series, also the first time writing a full fic for Bucky since 2016 so please go easy on me- I've always loved the idea of calling him James and him sticking to old petnames so that's definitely in here <3

Masterlist | Library Blog | Navigation

“Doll,” Bucky called as he walked through the front door, one hand carrying the bags of groceries while the other gripped the list you’d given him before he left. “Now, I think I’ve gotten everything, almost everything, neither I nor the grocery store helper could figure out what on earth this third line said,” he laughed, pausing in his steps when he saw you huffing about in the living room, lamp in one hand and a scatter pillow in the other as you shook your head to remove a strand of fallen hair from your vision.

“James,” you sighed, out of breath from your fiddling as you narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend. “You’re finally home.”

“I am,” he noted, carefully placing the groceries on the counter before meeting your gaze once again. “Though, it does quite look like we’re moving out, rather than in,” he mused, and you’d have rolled your eyes at him if you weren’t so nervous about the whole ordeal that laid ahead of you.

Your parents had met Bucky a few weeks after you started dating, and though they loved him, they had a sense of objection to you moving into the avengers’ tower when you could be starting a life together. This objection had been shared between the both of you as well, Bucky wanting a place to call home that didn’t involve missions and politics- he wanted comfort and though half of it came from you, the other half would come from the future the two of you would build together. The little loft you’d moved into had quite quickly become exactly that, having been filled as time passed, decorations and furniture being picked up as the need arose, the last of which being Christmas decorations, the fact very evident as you both stood in the festively lacking room.

“It’s December,” you informed him, not at all aiding in easing his confusion as he offered you a careful nod to continue. “My parents are coming over for Christmas, but it doesn’t look like Christmas in here, James, looks like November or something and we don’t have anything to decorate with,” Bucky hummed in reply, acknowledging your frustration as he carefully made his way towards you, gentle hands ridding you of the pillow and lamp you’d been gripping onto.

“Alright, if I remember correctly, there are some Christmas lights in one of the boxes we’re storing for Sam, so we can start there for now, maybe tomorrow we can stop by the little store on the corner and see if there’s anything else there, how does that sound?” you nodded, smiling at how nimble his voice was, his actions of trying to calm you not going unnoticed as his metal arm surrounded your waist.

“You forget, however, how much you despise the lights in question,” you reminded him with a soft smirk, hands mimicking his as you squeezed his waist lightly.

“I don’t despise them,” he objected, faux certainty on his face as he spared you a kiss to your forehead, still shaking his head in mock objection as he abandoned you to go fetch the box he was talking about, smiling once he was back in your presence. “I find the idea of putting them up now and taking them off right after Christmas a little mundane, is all.”

“Oh no, mundane tasks are below this super soldier, hmm,” you mused, helping him remove the lights from the box, Bucky’s eyes narrowing for a split second before he started untangling the wires.

“You mock me, doll, but it’ll be me balancing on a chair the morning of the twenty-sixth trying to get these off, not you.”

“You want to know a little secret, my love,” you prompted, smiling when you shifted the lights in your hand just enough to untangle them completely. “We can leave the Christmas lights up until January,” you giggled at the little shock he painted on for your amusement.

“What about the rules, hmm, the Christmas rules?” he was amused now, knowing that more than anything, the silly little moments he used to believe to be pointless, were the moments you held closest to your heart.

“It’s our place, we make the rules,” you replied, a carefree smile dancing over your lips as you watched him, his actions, though simple, making your body fill with warmth.

“Hmm,” he hummed, and you realized that much like many times before, the little sentiment was a reminder of a new beginning, a new life, he’d been many men before, been part of many stories, but the one he was writing with you- that was the one that would make it all worth it. “Hand me the chair, doll,” it was the little wink that made you smile as you retrieved the chair without thought.

“Where are you going to put them?”

“Across the arch,” he noted, taking hold of the hand pointlessly held out to assist him in his climb onto the wooden chair, hand clutching the lights as he looked up at the arch separating the living room from your bedroom.

“That’s not where they go.”

“Says who? Thought we make the rules now?” he laughed, and you allowed him to continue, the little song his lips were humming, making your smile grow even wider.

Minutes had passed, Bucky making slow progress as he embarked on his attempt to create a little scene of perfection for his girl. You were shamelessly adoring him, watching his every move, registering every little sigh and silent nod of agreement when an idea worked, he was doing nothing at all and yet completely captivating you. There was a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about him. He was yours, your future, your story- as much as you were his everything, he was yours in twofold. You’d go wherever he goes, forever.

“Hey James,” you nearly whispered as you pushed yourself away from the counter you’d been leaning against, a little sound of acknowledgment leaving his mouth as he remained lost in the motions of his fingers. “I love you,” he paused, furrowed brows as he stared down at you.

“I love you too, doll. Where’s that coming from?”

“Just getting all sentimental seeing you up there, being all domestic,” you admitted, stilling next to him to get hold of his free hand. “Thinking about how all's well that ends well to end up with you,” you mumbled, and he scoffed softly, gentle features watching you place a loving kiss to the metal digits as they folded around your hand.

"This is only the beginning, Y/n," he informed you as he gave your hand a little squeeze. "My little lover, hmm, wait until you see me making you dinner, might get a wedding proposal out of you yet," he mused and the laughter that filled the room would be but one moment of thousands to come.

[gashinabts]

hands-on learner| (m)

Word: 3.5k

Pairing: hentai voice actor!Seokjin x hentai voice actor!Reader

Genre: mature, smut, fluff

Summary: seokjin teaches you in unethical way on how to give your best hentai voice.

Warnings: hentai, public sex, DEGRADING, humiliation, dirty talk, rough sex, slut is used multiple times, fingering, overstimulation, choking, spitting, unprotected sex, ass & pussy slapping

a/n: just a quick one-shot for my babes. hope you enjoy this fic :) remember that your comments and support are what motivates me to write!

When you were little you always wanted to help people. The teacher would ask you what you want to be when you grow up, and you would reply to a doctor or a nurse somewhere in the lines of helping people. But when you came to the age of realizing that you live in a world where being the person you want to be came with a price such as starving yourself in order to pay for college classes you changed what you wanted to be. 

You are still helping people but not in a way that people would give a noble peace award for. As in right now you are reading a lewd script and fake orgasming. “ Y/N, reshoot. The words are off,” the director tells you. You look at the screen and watch as the hentai girl is getting pumped by an overload of semen, and you do a voiceover of a few high pitch moans and cries. “ Okay! Good,” the director gives you a thumbs up. 

You smile and gulp the water soothing your throat, you get out of the sound booth immediately bumping into Seokjin's chest. “ Watch and learn how a real pro does his work,” he tells you in a cocky tone. Seokjin is just wearing a hoodie and jeans yet he looks like a high class model, his light brown hair is pushed back and he looks hot but too bad he is an asshole.

Rolling your eyes you push his chest away, “ No thanks. All you have is a couple of weird cringey dialogue and a few grunts,” you hear him laugh as he enters the vocal booth. You sit down next to Yoongi who is part of the sound engineer making sure everything goes well. “ I hate him. He thinks he is all that, look at him,” you scoff.

“ Yeah, it also looks like you want to fuck him,” Yoongi lets out a chuckle. Okay, he is not wrong. You want to fuck Seokjin at least once to get all the sexual tension out of the way but somewhere in the back of the mind you think Seokjin likes to fuck in front of mirrors so he can watch himself the whole time. 

The director taps you on your shoulder and brings you outside in the hallway, “ The team and I were going through the comments from the previous work we have done…” Mr. Kim pulls out his ipad. Your eyes zoom in at some of the comments that make you see red.

@lolligirls- She sounds so fake

↳ @Y/N’sbitch- dumbass all of this is fake. no one is actually having sex in these hentai videos

@hentitties- Clearly this voice actor never had sex...lol

@hrny4animethighs- I couldn’t get past the five minutes, I had to go to a different video

@hentaiaddict- Seokjin is such a good voice actor, I nearly creamed my pants from him just saying hello

“ Thank you Y/N’sbitch, clearly this person knows how things work,” you roll your eyes. You give the ipad back not wanting to see it anymore, what do these people know about voice acting, you're the one getting paid and making them ejaculate in tissue in their gamer room. 

Mr. Kim clears his throat before speaking, “ There are more praises and positive comments for Seokjin’s voice so I asked him to give you some pointers. You guys will have to send me a voice memo of the script I’m going to send you tonight,” you make a sound a protest but he gives you a look, “ Or else you will just have a supporting role in the newest project.” He walks off to the other direction. The minute he’s out of earshot you kick the trash can which makes the trash fall out causing you to get more frustrated. You pick up the trash and toss it in the bin, muttering curse words to yourself. Now you have to see Seokjin’s cocky face all night giving you stupid tips that you don’t even need. 

You walk back inside the studio, Seokjin is out of the vocal booth and flirting with a woman, while Yoongi is going over the vocal track. “ I heard what happened, in all honesty you are my second favorite voice actor,” Yoongi tells you as you sit next to him.

You sigh, “ Who’s your first?” The chair makes a squeak as you adjust the seat height. Glancing over at Seokjin, he makes eye contact while giving you a smug smile then turning back to his conversation with the lady. Scoffing, you turn your attention to Yoongi as he fiddles with track volume.

Yoongi looks at you, his eyebags are dark “ Jimin,” he nonchalantly says. You aren’t even surprise, since they are fucking around. They are somewhere in the lines of friends to lovers but they are both too stubborn to admit they have deep feelings for eachother.

“ I would have never guessed...at least you are going to be here tonight,” you take a sip of the water down the ice coffee you bought earlier this morning. If Yoongi is here, you have nothing to worry about.

“ Actually it’s just going to be you and Seokjin. Told Mr. Kim I have an important date,” Yoongi’s ears turn red. At least someone is getting dick you think to yourself. “ Try not to kill each other,” he tells you. 

****

Everyone has left the studio and it’s just you and Seokjin. You are going through your lines, a corny script of a girl spending the night with her boyfriend’s best friend and they end up fucking, nothing out of the ordinary. “ Okay, I’m ready. I don’t want to be here all night,” you look at him casually scrolling on his phone. 

“ Aww, don’t be so mean. I know you are dying to be here with me,” Seokjin puts his phone away, coming closer to you after he presses the start button. He tosses his arm over your shoulder, “ Okay let’s get the show on the road princess,” Seokjin guides you to the vocal booth. Immediately you groan, pushing his arm away but your ears turn red at the pet name.

The script is placed right in front of you and you start to read it, going through the introduction of the characters. 

Seokjin looks at you more carefully when it gets to the saucy part, his finger on his chin as if he is really inspecting you. “ Mmm, it feels really good,” you whine at the end, making sure you sound as lewd as possible. 

Seokjin makes a sharp clap, making you halt from any other sound. “ It doesn’t sound like it feels good. You need to make it sound more real.” Seokjin shakes his head, there’s a small smirk. Your eye twitches wondering if he just wants to purposely get you irritated. “ Do it again, but this time make it sound like someone is actually fucking you,” he nods his head for you to continue. 

The last time you got fuck was a year ago, and it was a bad experience. You didn’t even orgasm and the guy came in less than five minutes. This time you repeat the line but with a whiny and sultry tone. Seokjin sighs, shaking his head in disappointment and you get frustrated. “ Well okay then teach me, because I think I sound fucking great,” you pull at the strand of your hair. 

“ No need to get mad, I can help you,” Seokjin laughs at your frustration. He comes closer to you and you can smell his faint masculine cologne, his body is close to you. “ I want you to imagine it as if I was fucking you,” he whispers darkly. 

You bite your cheek from cursing him off, but you should at least try it out. So you envision him fucking you from behind. The image of his manly hand wrapped around your head while the other is around your neck. He’s probably the type to fuck you like you don’t matter and you can’t help it that actually turns you on. “ Mmm, it feels really good,” you moan as if he is actually ramming his cock into you. You look at his approval and he nods, a small sense of victory comes over you. Until you feel his hand pushing your hair to the other side you leaving one side of your neck bare. He is closer to you, right behind you, his chest barely touching your body.

“ Is this okay?” He whispers into your ear. You whisper a yes and his plump lips kiss your neck leaving a trail of wet kisses that leaves your skin tingling. “ I’m barely touching you and you are so reactive,” he takes notice of your heavy breathing. He licks a small part of your neck, then blows on it watching you squirm at the sudden coldness. 

“ Someone can walk in,” you look at the door. You don’t remember locking it, and what if the janitor comes in. Maybe that makes it more tempting for you, being caught in Seokjin’s lust. “ Seokjin,” you whine as he bites on your earlobe. 

“ You would like that...to have someone see you getting fucked hard by me. Drooling because of my cock is hitting you in just the right spot,” his hand goes under your shirt just resting on bare waist. Then his fingers tracing up and down your stomach meeting the underside of your bra but then going back down. 

“ I-no,” you shake your head in defiance. He laughs and grabs your jaw forcing your neck to twist and look at him. His eyes are darker, and he gives you a pointed look making you change your answer. “ Yes, I’d like that,” you whimper, as his rough hand pats your cheek heavily as a reward.

“ See silly girl, lying won’t get you anywhere,” he taunts you. His body then pushes you forward so you now against the glass window, you place your hands on the cold glass. Seokjin takes his time taking off your clothes. You are the only one naked on the and the cold air from the ac makes your nipples hard and from the lustful stare Seokjin has. “ I should just leave you like this and call everyone here to look at you,” Seokjin has a sinister smile when you shake your head in fear. “ Why? You look like a perfect slut. I bet you are already wet from just me kissing your neck,” he pushes your chest so your back is now against the cold window. 

The degrading names are something new to you, and your thighs squeezed together try to relieve some pain. “ Then leave me here. I bet someone else can fuck me better than you,” you shrug your shoulders, hoping he’ll get mad. 

His jaw clenches, “ Spread your legs,” he forcefully helps you by slapping the inside of your thighs. “ Look at you so fucking wet,” he comments looking down at your drolling lips. His hand then comes to slap your cunt, you flinch but then feel the pain subside to pleasure. Your body coming forward falling into his chest but his hand pushes you back to the glass, “ Take it like a good slut,” he tsk at you shaking his head. The slaps come in intervals as he chuckles at your betweens of moaning and whimpering. A few slaps hitting your clit and you cry out his name to slap you more. By the time he is done your cunt feels numb and your legs shake, your hands fisting at his shirt. “ We just started and you are already giving up on me,” he massages your cunt soothingly, spreading your arousal and barely entering the tip of his finger in your entrance.

Shaking your head, you look up at him, “ Seokjin, please fuck me. I want to be your good slut,” you deliriously say in ecstasy. His lips lift up and his two fingers thrust quickly into you, with no warning. Your head falls forward onto his hard chest staring at his fingers thrusting deep and hard, the juices becoming more apparent on his hand. You have never been this wet in your whole life, is this what you have been missing? 

One of his hands pulls your hair back to you looking at him, “ Open wide,” you do as you are told and he spits in your mouth. The spit slides easy as you swallow it, opening your mouth for more as if it was fiji water. He spits again and purposely misses your mouth landing on your cheek, “ Oops,” he smirks then wiping his spit across your whole cheek. And you don’t care, just consumed in the pleasure of his fingers still fucking you open. Your eyes roll back when his fingers curl, your stomach feeling warm. “ Come on my fingers you dirty slut, make them smell like you,” he watches you unravel.

 One last thrust and you come all over his fingers, thighs shaking when he continues to thrust at fast pace not stopping when you try to pull away. He pushes you even more to the glass so you have no escape but to come again on his fingers, your body is confused to having back to back orgasms. Screaming his name in ecstasy, your cunt pulsates at the euphoric sensation. Body releasing everything you got, your chest is heavy and you finally feel him pull his fingers out, his fingers then shoving in your mouth. “ My fingers are dirty because of you,” he chastises you. Your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of you tasting your own come for the first time, his intense gaze watches you suck the juices off his fingers. Moaning around his finger just like it was your favorite flavor lollipop. Sucking one last time, your lips smack as he pulls them out, “ Fuck me like you hate me,” your hand travel to his hard bulge lightly squeezing it. 

You close your eyes and pucker your lips when he leans down, only for him to whisper into your ear, “ I don’t wanna see your face if I fuck you,” he twist your body so your breast are flat against the window, side of your face pressed down on it too. You take a deep breath partially because you're nervous yet excited about what is about to come. The sound of his buckle is being undone and his pants, there’s no preparation as he thrust his cock into. Yelping at the sudden force, one of his hands holds against your throat and the other tight on your waist. His thrust are fast and rough, fucking you to his own pleasure and you don’t mind. “ I’m surprise you're tight,” he thrust harder and you cry out in pleasure, “you’re not fucking anyone, right?” Your mind is blank, only focusing on the thickness of his cock stretching you out painfully good. His hand occasionally squeezes your throat, letting your life be at his hands. He slaps your ass hard, you cry at the stinging sensation. “ Answer me slut,” he spanks your ass again harder.

Shaking your head the best you could you answer. “ No. There’s nobody,” your body jolts at his thrusts. You try your best staying still, your hands holding against the window, not providing much stability. “ Fuck Seokjin, it’s too much,” you whine. Not sure what is too much. The feeling is overwhelming, you think. Never had been fucked this good. 

His hand leaving your throat slides down to your clit, “ Shut up, you can handle it,” he chuckles, slapping your clit, shooting more sparking sensation in your core. “ I can’t stand your fucking mouth. Always talking shit about me, stupid slut. I can hear what you say about me to Yoongi. The voice booth is two way,” he pinches your clit.

Your eyes widen and you mentally want to slap yourself, but who cares the amazing sex is the consequent of your big mouth. Seokjin jackhammers into you, constantly hitting the spot that makes your eyes go cross eyed. The stars are evident when he rubs your clit hard, clawing at the window trying to grab onto anything you moan his name so lewdly as you orgasm harder than the previous two, it sounds like it came for a high-budget porno. 

Your thighs tremble at the aftermath of your orgasm yet you want him to use you more. “ Are you gonna take my come like a good slut?” Seokjin asks. His hand moving from your clit to the back of your hair pulling your head back. 

“ Mmm, yes I want you to fill me up,” you moan at the thought of his come covering your walls. Three more hard thrust he unravels, grunting your name and coming deep into you, holding your body tight to his. 

There’s the feeling of his shirt sticking to your sweaty back but you ignore the uncomfortable feeling. Your body falling limply into his arms as he carries your weight. Breathing is loud from both parties, he kisses your head and rubs your arms in a soothing manner. “ I’m going to get tissues real quick, okay?” You nod, your throat feeling sore from all the screaming. He presses a quick kiss to your cheek before running outside the vocal booth to get a tissue and water. You slide your body on the floor muscles strained from the rough sex, he comes back with a concerned look.

He sits down beside you, but then puts you on his lap laying the back of your head against his chest. He gently spreads your legs, and wets the tissue then uses it to clean the mess he made. Your eyes close, not used to feeling this kind of emotion, like you want to be comforted and swaddled. “ Open your mouth for me, baby,” Seokjin presses the water lightly on your lips. Parting your lips the nice cold liquid travels down your throat, relieving a small part of pain. “ Good girl,” he whispers, one hand caressing your cheek. “ My beautiful baby did a good job today,” he kisses the side of your forehead. You hum in delight at the compliment loving the feeling. He continues praising you, hands caressing every inch of skin and kissing your cheeks.

When you finally have the energy to get dressed, the room is silent because for once you guys aren’t bantering. You look at him and he is scrolling on his phone like he didn’t just fuck you to oblivion. And it kind of hurts that he’s not looking at you despite him giving all that aftercare. Maybe it’s your after sex hormones making you emotional. “ Imma just go,” your voice is hoarse. He looks up quickly showing you his sparkly eyes, “ I can’t really work like this,” you point to your throat, there’s a slight burn as you speak. 

“ Wait, I ordered us food,” Seokjin stands up showing you the receipt order of kimchi jjigae on his phone. “ But if you want to leave, that's fine,” he rubs his neck. “ Let me at least order you a taxi,” he goes on his phone.

“ No!” You embarrassingly say loudly. His eyes widened at the sudden outburst. You blush like an idiot, “ I mean, no I would like to stay and eat kimchi jjigae with you.” Seokjin smiles and you smile back.

You and Seokjin waste no time eating the food, taking less than fifteen minutes to finish the food. “ I’m too tired to do the voice memo. I’ll just take the supporting role,” you lay your head back in defeat. 

Seokjin is cleaning the mess and he shakes his head, “ I’ll tell him that you did a good job and that we forgot to record it,” he throws the food cartons in the trash can. 

“ Yeah but those stupid comments,” you groan loudly. “ What if I do suck?” You ask yourself, thinking about @hrny4animethighs’ comment. 

“ Impossible. You are a talented voice actress, those comments are just trolls.” Seokjin sits down next to you. 

You face him, smiling at his nice comment. “ Really?” You get fuck by Seokjin once and now your head over heels for him. 

“ Yes.” Seokjin cutely rubs your head. “ But if you need any help, just imagine me fucking you,” he laughs as you groan pushing his hand away. “ You want to know I’m so good at hentai voice acting?” You nod at his question. “ Because I imagine you,” he likes the way your cheeks flush. 

He stares at your lips, “ Are you finally going to kiss me?” He doesn’t answer but kissing you softly something that you didn’t expect after the filthy sex you guys had earlier. His lips feel like soft pillows and you could feel yourself getting lost, your hands finally get to feel what his hair feels like. Soft and silky.

“ Go out with me,” he pulls a centimeter away. His breath hitting your lips.

The Kim Seokjin wants to go out with you? “ It’s only fair because you gave me some pointers,” you shrug. Seokjin chuckles and attacks you with kisses, wondering how he is falling quickly for you.

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

Do not repost, translate, or alternate my work in any way, onto any platform. I do not take plagiarism lightly.

[verdantsyren]

Catra’s hair throughout She Ra and how it was not given the treatment it deserved: an essay

This is a more in depth analysis of Catra’s hair throughout She Ra, inspired by this post here and the replies on it. I highly recommend reading the replies, as they have excellent information about the horrible effects of imposed hair cutting on different cultures.

I do think that Prime cutting Catra’s hair could’ve been a really powerful statement on trauma and removed anatomy if they had properly explored it more. Hair is such a powerful way to convey the personality or emotions of another person, and should absolutely be utilized in this kind of storytelling, but you have to utilize it correctly. 

For example, I think Catra removing her ear tufts because that’s how Shadow Weaver manipulates her is a really good way to show her emotional state; Catra starts losing pieces of herself and sometimes even removing said pieces of herself to try and protect herself.

However, She Ra has a problem in how they do this: They don’t show or really mention it in the show, at all.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but do they actually mention Catra cutting her hair tufts at all? They certainly don’t show it. Hell, I don’t remember any other characters really mentioning it.

Can you imagine how powerful it would’ve been to see Catra, so sick of abuse and manipulation, cut off her ear tufts at the sink or on top of her perch in the Fright Zone? Watch the hair sit on the floor or float away in the wind, Catra steel her face and smooth down her hair. We could’ve watched her leave those vulnerabilities in the bathroom, or climb down from her perch with a new steel in her gaze. There didn’t have to be dialogue about Shadow Weaver or anything, just Catra and her hair. It could’ve added more to her character.

Or they could’ve had Adora notice. You know, Catra’s best friend through childhood/enemy who would most definitely notice a change like that? They could’ve had Adora in some way mention them being gone, and you just see this brief change in Catra’s expression, or a slip up, or something that gives away what getting rid of the tufts meant to her. 

These could’ve been so powerful. But instead it isn’t even addressed, only really explained outside of the show.

I do think that in Season 4, they do a good job of showing Catra trying to control her hair. She smooths it down whenever she gets frustrated or upset, or is in some way trying to control herself. It’s a developed anxious motion, something people with anxiety often have. I personally used to fiddle with my hair often, a nervous tick I developed as a child. I think it helps highlight how much she desperately craves control of herself, and her hair seems to be the only way she really can try.

Then Season 5 hits. And I honestly hate the fact that they don’t address Catra’s short hair. Prime cutting Catra’s hair is huge, because it removes the one thing throughout the show that she undoubtedly controlled. Beforehand, Catra cutting her hair was a sign of her trying to shed her past abuse. But with Prime, him cutting her hair is abuse. Him cutting her hair shows that she is without any anatomy while on Prime’s Ship. But again, the problem here is that they don’t address it on the show, and it’s really frustrating because there is so much they could’ve done with this. It could’ve set Catra’s redemption story apart because OP is correct, she did not get the choice.

Again, imagine a scene with Catra where she wakes up on the BFS’s ship. She starts panicking, but reaches up to smooth down her hair like she did literally ALL OF SEASON 4, but it stops once she gets to her neck. Imagine her scrambling for a mirror/reflective surface to see what she looks like, and the broken face when she realizes that the one thing she used to control is gone. Maybe have the faint whisper of Horde Prime in the background, or the ghost of scissors clipping together. A haunting wisp of memory.

Imagine after that, maybe Adora or Bow mention her hair, and Catra freaks out. Glimmer goes and finds Catra later messing with her hair, freaking out because she’s never had hair like this before and it wasn’t her choice and she never gets to choose--

But Glimmer is there, and Glimmer’s had short hair for years. And Glimmer tells Catra that she’ll help her style it the way she wants, because she understands what it’s like to lose control to Horde Prime. They then show Catra deciding to cut it shorter with Glimmer’s help. Not only does it show her trying to have some agency over herself in this dire situation, but it shows her and Glimmer once again connecting over shared trauma and experiences. And maybe even after they fix up her hair, Catra is still allowed to mourn; she still reaches for the hair that isn’t there, or she starts looking for different ways to style it with Glimmer’s help. Maybe a few comments about her being excited to grow it out again.

Something like that could’ve been so good! I think that, acknowledging Catra’s emotions and actions when she changes herself, would’ve made her redemption so much better. Because here’s the main issue with Catra cutting her hair: in the show, it doesn’t add anything to her redemption. 

For example, when Korra cuts her hair in Legend of Korra, that is her choice. She is the one making the change. It shows that she is the one working on herself, recovering from her trauma. Obviously Korra isn’t really going through a redemption arc like Catra, but they are still both going through significant changes after traumatic events. 

However, in Catra’s case, what would’ve changed if Prime had left her hair the same? Nothing. Nobody mentioned it in the first place, it didn’t seem to affect Catra at all. He could’ve put her hair in a ponytail and still achieved the same end. 

That’s what, at least to me, is really frustrating about Catra’s hair change in season 5 from a storyteller’s standpoint; in the show and to the characters, it doesn’t really add anything to her redemption. Whereas with the changes I stated above, it could’ve been a point of her trying to reclaim her anatomy, connecting with those around her, and a whole other load of things better writers than I could come up with. And this would’ve only been strengthened by better highlighting the changes she made to her hair in earlier seasons!

And finally, in the original post I linked up top, the replies talked a lot about how hair is so important to other cultures, and Prime cutting Catra’s hair without consent to make her fit in with his clones is incredibly similar to how white colonizers cut native people’s hair to force them to assimilate into white culture. She Ra could’ve been a commentary on how absolutely horrible and harmful this sort of practice is by showing how negatively it affects Catra. But it didn’t do any of that. It could’ve given Catra a new avenue of agency, but it didn’t. She Ra could’ve done so much more for this part of her redemption arc, and they could’ve started a discussion on the terrors of assimilation in colonization, but they didn’t.

Like I said up top, I highly recommend reading those replies on the original post to learn more and educate yourself about this topic. Thank you to anyone who read this, and I’m sorry it’s such a chunk of text. Once I saw the original post, I just couldn’t think about anything else til I wrote this beast of a text post.

[loyally-unfaithful]

—; even if i am fooling myself, my feelings are true . (2)

word count: 2.9k

pairing: origami cyclone | ivan karelin / gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

summary: even if he was lying to you by pretending to be your lover, he told himself it was worth it. it made you happy. it helped you. he’s helping you. this ruse is only done in good faith. 

if it were to make you smile, if it were to help you brighten up, then all his lies and deceptions could be forgiven, he rationalised.

a/n: so yes, this fic is drastically different from what i usually do, because it's more dialogue heavy? i hope i nailed the kotetsu moral fagging,,,, and that the flashbacks aren't too confusing ;w;

eyeing his surroundings, ivan let his shoulders drop—he doesn’t really know whether it’s from exhaustion or melancholy; probably both.

the floor was quiet: devoid of the usual whirring machinery, animated banter, or even just the pitter patters that would point to the presence of another soul in the room. any signs of life. the floor was quiet, almost eerily so, though his tiredness and anxiety may have also played a part in this desolate atmosphere. all he could hear was his all-too-loud heartbeat thumping in his ear, pulsing in his head.

the blond sighed. he could’ve done without the migraine.

it seemed he was the last person in the gym, the other heroes having already gone home, though in hindsight that was to be expected. glancing at the wall mounted clock revealed that it was rather late in the evening. he must’ve lost track of time, he figured. don’t know how or when. probably got lost in his thoughts, at some point during break…? he forgot what he was doing. can’t recall what he was even thinking about in the first place.

he’s been rather dazed these few days.

« you’ve been out of it these few days. » blue rose had mentioned… at some point. the days just sort of blend in together. something about the lights being on but nobody’s home?

the hero was committed with his career. honestly, he was. his thoughts have just been preoccupied elsewhere these past few weeks…

probably just stress.

dejectedly, the blond plopped himself on a bench and exhaled deeply.

« that was a pretty incredible sigh. d’you have something on your mind? ivan jumped slightly, not expecting to be addressed. so he wasn’t alone… – oh, tiger-san… »

he considered the older man’s silent invitation with furrowed brows. he might as well, he thought, seeing as kotetsu was willing to listen. besides, his senior always seemed to know the solution to all his dilemmas; it would help him getting this off his chest.

« it’s… i’ve just been preoccupied with something… right! you, telling you the truth… where does he even begin explaining this to kotetsu? do you remember when i was assigned to visit patients at the sternbild general hospital? after that mess with maverick... – uh, you were paired with dragon kid during that charity campaign, right? kotetsu completed after a moment. ivan nodded in confirmation. – at the time we were just tasked to help the medical team where we could, and socialise with the patients. boost their spirit. you know, like delivering flowers and doing inventory. at some point we had to do some damage control after a visitor left rather violently. he paused. i saw them when they left, and it seemed that they must’ve had a pretty bad breakup or a big disagreement with… he decided it was best to just omit your name…  their partner. the blond kept his gaze down as he fiddled with his fingers. their partner was admitted in inpatient care, and they seemed pretty depressed after the incident. »

the second time ivan had met you was during his scheduled visits, and he had recognised you from that incident with the disorderly visitor. he remembered how despondent you were when he came to greet patients in your ward.

the blond distinctly remembers that day: dragon kid was told to visit those in the pediatric unit while he was to visit and cheer for those in the rehabilitation ward.

despite only briefly, you lit up when the hero visited you, accepting the flowers with a warm if forced smile. he noted that you didn’t do much of anything but look out your window absentmindedly or stare at the wall in front of you. it wasn’t like there was anyone else to interact with in your room, seeing as you had been lucky enough to get a single patient room, and you didn’t seem interested in turning the tv on anytime soon. you had just kept to yourself, preferring to just isolate yourself in your own sorrow. ivan doesn’t think that you ever went outside your room except during physical therapy, in which you were doing very little progress. he understands that one shouldn’t expect to progress very quickly or thrive immediately after the first session—seeing as he was in your place once, wheelchair bound after the failed infiltration in jake’s hideout—but you didn’t seem to improve much, if at all. the hero had grown worried for your condition and found himself visiting you a few more time during the campaign, hoping to be able to cheer you up by playing up his outgoing and enthusiastic persona—after all, if it weren’t for the other heroes’ unending support and encouragements lifting his spirits, he doubts he would’ve recovered as fast as he did. he hoped that he could make you happier, and in turn help you recover faster.

he hoped he could cheer you up, and it seemed like he did. just a little bit. though you returned to being morose shortly after, the young man’s presence brought a smile to your face and his shenanigans often made you chuckle. he had come to appreciate your laughter, and he hoped that they were all genuine. the thought of making you happier pushed him to continue visiting you every so often, and that was when you opened up to him, allowing him to learn more about you. even if he couldn’t divulge much about himself as origami cyclone, you had allowed yourself to speak freely with him. that was how he learnt things like how you had just recently been moved from the surgical unit to the rehabilitation ward and had to go through physical therapy before you could be discharged, how your favourite colour was green, how you were majoring in east asian studies, how your favourite animal was the fox. random trivia about you that he found endearing, details he committed to memory for reasons that were beyond him.

but he knows he was just a temporary distraction for you.

for some reason, he wanted to continue helping you get better. he wanted to see you happy.

the hero remembers his thoughts that day: that there had to be a way. a way to help you. help you feel better. if his lowly self couldn’t do it, then…?

 he remembers when he first stepped in as your former lover (after giving himself a lengthy encouragement to combat his nerves at the door), second guessing himself every step he took closer to your bed, where you had laid listlessly. how were you going to react? the blond hoped you’d take it well… but on second thought, you could’ve gotten angry. maybe you didn’t want to see him. after all, your former lover had wronged you. maybe your despondency had been due to self-loathing and not due to feeling their loss. it wouldn’t do any good if he had accidentally distressed you.

but it was too late to back away now… right?

ivan wasn’t surprised to find that the room remained as immaculate and undisturbed as the last time he had entered: the tv remained off, untouched stacks of books, wilted flowers and get-well-soon cards uncared for. ivan would even wager that your phone hadn’t moved from the same spot since he first met you and was just collecting dust.

the door clicked as it always did when he entered the room, but you had ignored the visitor to continue gazing placidly out the window. you remained lethargic. even as the footsteps got closer to you, you showed no indication that you acknowledged the presence.

even when he stood beside you, only centimetres away.

your clothes along with your undisturbed blanket, covering your lower half, were white, much like marble, while soft golden light bathed you. the way the fabric and tissues rippled gently, a testament of how little you had moved since he last saw you, the way they flowed and the way the golden sunlight gave it a brilliant lustre, gave you an ethereal nature.

like a sculpture of a beautiful sorrow.

alarmingly, were it not for the rising and falling of your chest, he would’ve assumed that you had passed.

thankfully, you hadn’t, and so with what little courage he had left, he finally spoke up.

« hey, i’m back… sorry i couldn’t get by sooner. »

almost like a switch had been flipped, your spiritless form breathed life and you quickly snapped to face the owner of a familiar voice. the instantaneous change in energy had caught him slightly off guard. ivan was worried you may have given yourself a whiplash, with how fast you had jolted upwards to look at him.

neither of you said a word, both of you too stunned to speak.

you had sat up, your body rigid as your hands rested uselessly on your lap. almost as if you’ve just observed a ghost, your eyes were wide and your mouth agape. not quite believing your eye, you continued to stare at him in disbelief and tried to find your words to convey all the thoughts racing in your head: happiness, anger, gratefulness, frustration, relief, hurt, shock. the blond wasn’t any better at making the first move, petrified in place, not knowing what to make of your reaction. were you happy to see him? did you want him to leave? he didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know if he should say anything in the first place in case his words may cause you more distress. ivan looked equally as stunned as you were, the tension making him instinctively draw his arms up.

the hero didn’t know what to do with himself: you were at an arm length away from him. what should he do? hold your hand? embrace you? should he even do anything?

« taylor?!! »

your voice was a hushed whisper, almost as if you were scared that your words would cause the mirage in front of you to disappear.

« you came back... ? your voice was quiet, not quite believing your eyes. is that really you? are you really back?! your voice soon picked up as you grew more assured that you weren’t dreaming. where were you? – i was… i had a lot going on and… he scrambled for an excuse but your actions cut him off. »

he didn’t know what he expected, but he wasn’t expecting you to reach out and embrace him tightly, your arms hooked along his waist as if you were holding onto a lifeline. the sudden display of affection made him tense up, but after a moment of hesitation he mustered the courage to wrap his own arms around you. you had clutched his shirt tightly as you buried your face in his chest, concealing your expression and muffling your voice. he was sure that you could have heard, felt, his heart thumping wildly—he hopes you don’t pay it any mind.

« i missed you so much… » you had said into his chest.

reluctantly peeling yourself off of him, you lifted your eyes to finally meet his and somehow the thought of making eye contact with you renewed his sense of anxiety. what if you found out? what if you knew? he remembers telling himself how it was impossible for you to find any differences between himself and the real taylor, but that didn’t ease his anxiety. you had cupped his cheek and he remembered how he tried to keep himself from freaking out. butterflies were running amok in his stomach: he often heard how it was supposed to be a fluttery sensation that one got when they were around their beloved, but surely it couldn’t be this unpleasant? his heart was racing and he couldn’t focus—this didn’t feel any different from his nervous breakdowns.

the main difference was the warmth on the side of his face. slowly, almost mechanically, ivan brought his hand up to place it atop your own. almost like it has always belonged there. he realised how soft your hands were, even with the callouses along your palm, and that he rather liked the feel of your skin on his. was your touch always this pleasant? he leaned into the contact, reveling in the warmth it stirred within him. the comfort he drew from it was worth the initial uneasiness he had experienced. despite his wildly beating heart and the lump in his throat, he allowed himself to relax enough to lean into your touch and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

« you could’v— you paused as your brows knit in slight confusion. you could’ve called or left a message... »

your voice had dropped as you said so. he remembers chalking it up to you being disappointed that he, or rather taylor, never contacted you after their disruptive exit. everything is ok. there was no way you could’ve found out. however, even as you move your thumb to caress his cheek, you continued to look sad. you weren’t exactly asking a question, though your jaw clenched as if you were trying to figure him out. ivan figured you were waiting for an explanation. would you believe him? the blond figured that his nervousness caused him to start seeing things, as he briefly imagined your eyes shining a bright azure. there wasn’t any reason for you to be suspicious of him. everything is ok. ivan shook it off and hoped his tone conveyed his repentance as he comforted you: « i- i’m really sorry i didn’t contact you sooner... i lost my phone and… »

you had a tight smile that seemed bittersweet as you shook your head. « it’s… it’s just water under the bridge... » ivan encountered a brief sense of loss as your fingers slipped away from his. you had retracted your hand and he remembered mourning the loss of your contact, hesitantly letting go of it, though he was happy enough to return the hug that you initiated once more. the renewed closeness allowed you to hide your face into the crook of his neck. « i’m just glad you’re here. »

he had hoped that he had made you happy that day.

were you relieved? suspicious? disheartened? he couldn’t discern the tone in which you said that.

though he would find out soon after.

« i continued visiting them for the rest of the campaign’s duration, to cheer them up. i wanted to help them get better and motivate them to continue with their physical therapy. so after it had ended i thought that it would help if i visited them… as their partner… ivan’s fidgeting stopped abruptly, waiting for the other hero’s response. – i see… the blond was uncomfortably aware of the eyes on him, and fought to keep his anxiety at bay. so you continued meeting them after the campaign had ended? the younger hero nodded to confirm once more. – how long... were you planning on visiting them as that person? »

ivan opened his mouth to answer, but immediately closed it back once he realised he didn’t actually have an answer. it dawned on him that he never made up his mind as to when and how he’d stop meeting you. the day after you were discharged? some time after? and how? by pretending to break up with you (though in a gentler fashion than how it actually happened)? just stop coming? that seemed much too cruel.

it’s true, he’d have to put an end to this soon: he couldn’t continue meeting you under this ruse. it would ultimately cause problems were the real taylor caught them or heard about them. besides, being a hero made this elaborate ploy even trickier to organise. the proof was right there: just recently he almost slipped.

« i’m sure i don’t know all the details so maybe i shouldn’t say, but i don’t think you should use your abilities this way. kotetsu continued. don’t you think it’s unfair to hide the truth from them? ivan flinches at the question. – i-i know that i’m just lying to them by pretending to be their ex… but i don’t know any other way to comfort them… for the most part, things have been going well: they’ve gotten much better and things have been well between us… despite. the blond frowns, knowing full well his words sound like nothing more than excuses to justify and keep pretending to be your ex. but truthfully, he had come to enjoy your company and was rather distraught at the thought of having to stop meeting you. – but if that were the case don’t you think they’d rather see you? the older hero queried. ivan just shook his head. you guys got along well so i’m sure they’d wanna meet you, not as their ex, not as a hero, but as yourself. – why would they? his purple eyes shifted, downcast. sure, as a hero i can pretend to be a better and more useful person than i actually am, like back at the hospital… but in reality i’m just a pathetic nobody. i’m not someone worth associating with... – you may have been wearing someone else’s face, but the person they’ve gotten closer to is you, isn’t it? you’re the person they enjoy spending time with, so even if you told them the truth, nothing about your relationship will change. kotetsu paused for a moment. there’s no way to tell what they’re thinking or how they’ll react, but the longer you keep it a secret the harder it will be to come clean. »

the older of the two turned to face his junior: « it’s okay to be scared, but that’s why you take action instead of pondering the what-ifs and should’ves. so you don’t regret it in the future.

they deserve to know, so you gotta face them. »

LIKE MY WORK? CONSIDER BUYING ME A COFFEE // CHECKING OUT MY MASTERLIST | LINKS CAN BE FOUND ON MY DESC

[timetoresurface]

Like serendipity? (3)

⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅

Fresh out of college, your life is finally going to blossom into something more meaningful than college day drinking and late-night study sessions. Or so you thought. Unlikely events result in you having a big ass crush on your next-door neighbour. Maybe, you weren’t as grown-up as you thought you were.

Y/N x BAEKHYUN

Life after college AU (if that’s a thing)

I’ve finished something, and it's making me feel exceptionally proud of myself. I'm still learning how to end things properly, and how to write the more daring parts (kissing and touching and you know what I mean, I won't draw you a picture) as I just semi self-taught myself to write dialogues, I will also learn how to correctly write smut. Next thing on my to-do list, I promise. 

first part / second part

⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅

Sixth act: and now we’re not making sense anymore.

“So, how was the walk back with Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asked you during lunchtime. You both decided to leave the office for an hour to reflect, and have a quick meal at your favourite fast-food restaurant.

“It was weird.” You confessed, and he flashed you a look of sympathy. You avoided his stare and simply waited in line.

“Taeyong and Baekhyun have a long history.” He finally said, you just shrugged your shoulders. “But he barely paid any attention to her last night.” He continued, while you ordered your food.

“That’s not how I saw it; he barely talked to any of us.” You said while paying your quick lunch.

“He tried, but she was constantly demanding his attention. She never had to work that hard to get his focus. She used to be his entire world, but lately, it has come crashing down.” He tried to explain.

“What happened between the two of them?” You asked Chanyeol when he ordered and paid for his food. He sends you another sympathetic look before answering.

“I’m not sure I’m allowed to tell you.” He finally confessed, but you weren’t going to let it go.

“I need to know. He kissed me last night, and I’m not ready to be someone’s rebound.” You confessed softly, still not having processed last night yourself. After the long kiss you shared, he left you to go to his apartment. You hadn’t seen him ever since, and for the first time this week, you were glad.

“He did what?” Chanyeol practically shouted through the restaurant, making people look over at what the two of you were doing. You tried to ignore his dramatic behaviour by taking both your orders and walking outside.

“Yes, he did. Right after he told me that she was his ex-girlfriend.” You told Chanyeol while putting some extra fries on your burger, something you learned from a romantic movie you forgot the name of.

“Look, I don’t feel like I’m the person to tell you what happened between the two of them, but I can assure you Baekhyun is over her.” Chanyeol didn’t eat any of his food, while you were stuffing your face. 

“That’s not how it looked last night.” You said with a mouthful of burger and fries. Maybe if you worked on your eating manners, people would like you more.

“He left her to go home with you and kiss you under the starry night.” He reasoned with you, but you weren’t having any of it. You knew Baekhyun was out of your league, and you still fell into this trap of thinking it could work. You have never been fortunate in love, so why did you think this time would be any different. As long as you had Chanyeol and Soya, you were happy enough.

“It was in our shared hallway, but sure under the starry night.” You said before taking a big bite out of your burger that was almost finished. 

“You’re going to get mad at what I’m going to tell you.” Chanyeol started. You motioned for him to continue, but he was still hesitant.

“I promise I won’t get mad. At least not forever, maybe just for an hour or a day, it depends.” You reassured him, and this provided him with enough fuel to start his story.

“Remember your hangover outfit?” He asked you, and you simply nodded not liking where this was going. “I have a picture of it, that you know, but I did show it to my friends the next day. Everyone fell in love with your quirkiness, and we started talking about you, like how I should bang you as your gorgeous and whatever. I told them that would be weird, as I feel like your more my mother than anything else.” He looked over at you trying to measure your angriness, but to his surprise, he was met with a very calm you who simply agreed with his words.

“Baekhyun was there, and for some reason, he asked the most about you. I might say he looked smitten, and as his best friend, I loved seeing him smile again after the Taeyong trauma.” He fiddled nervously with his hands, avoiding your eyes.

“Where are you going with this?” You finally asked him after a minute of silence. He looked up into your eyes, and all you saw was an honest guy with a good heart. You could never be mad at him, even if you wanted to be in this moment.

“The reason I talked about my friends so much, and the reason I invited you over was because of him. I hoped you would get him out of his funk, you know. Befriend him or something more.”

“Did you tell him where I lived?” Panic kicked in when a weird scenario popped in your head. Did Chanyeol really go that far?

“No, that’s a coincidence I had nothing to do with. I was equally surprised as you were.” He quickly assured you, and your shoulders lost the tension you didn’t know you were holding. Controlling your body was something you were not very good at.

“But I think Baekhyun recognized you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have talked to you. He’s a timid boy behind his extravert behaviour, but I think you already know that.” He finally started eating his cold food, signalling his story was at its end, but yours wasn’t.

“I’m not so sure anymore. I thought I got to know him, but it feels like a lie. Like it wasn’t as coincidental as I first thought it was.”

“You don’t live in a romantic movie, Y/N. This is real life, and sometimes real-life needs a little push.” Something in you told you that he was getting frustrated at you. You needed a good girl talk with Soya, as Chanyeol didn’t know you as well as she did. She knew about your stupid heartbreak, and she also knew how you were wired. She even almost always knew what to say to make you feel better.

“Let’s get back to work; we’ve been here too long already.” You told him while getting up and cleaning up your table. Chanyeol nodded and started walking back to your office building with you. There was nothing left to say as you needed some time to process all that had been said.

Y/N: you want to come over tonight?

Soya: I’ll be there at seven

Y/N: bring some wine

Soya: of course

You smiled down at your phone. Soya has always been a good friend, and sometimes you think she deserves a better best friend than you. But still, she did kind of chose you to her adopted family, and you were not going to complain.

You tiptoed inside of your apartment building, scared to run into Baekhyun. You weren’t ready to face him yet. You still needed Soya to make some sense of your confusing thoughts. Once you were inside the safety of your place, you heard a door open in the hallway. You stayed quiet at your closed door, taking a look through your peephole. Baekhyun was pacing in front of your door, as if unsure of what his next move should be. He looked so nervous and innocent; you felt terrible for him. He quickly shook his head and went back inside his apartment. Weird, but you tried not to read too much into it. He probably just wanted to apologize about last night, how he made a mistake and whatever you were not ready to hear.

You cleaned your face, living room and kitchen while waiting for Soya to arrive. She’s kind of neat freak, so you wanted her to be comfortable at your place. You were just finishing off cleaning your bathroom mirror when your doorbell rang. With a final glance at your reflection, you made your way over to the door, ready to let Soya in, but the sight before you surprised you. Soya was not the one standing in front of your door; it was Baekhyun with dark bags under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in the past 24 hours.

“Hi!” You awkwardly greeted him after a couple of minutes of silence. If you looked closer, you could see the perfected mask of pretence crumbling down and raw emotions taking over. He didn’t look as carefree as he had looked the past week. He wasn’t his vibrant self today; he looked a little lost and insecure. It made you think you had only seen a fraction of what Baekhyun was, and he was showing you another side to him. It would be a lie if you said it didn’t intrigue you. 

There's that static again, that crackling in the air that's always happened whenever the two of you got within a foot of each other. It was enough to make the little baby hairs on the back of your neck stand up, but now it was enough that you're a little afraid for your life, like, if his hand brushes yours, one or both of you will be instantly electrocuted.

He didn’t say anything; he simply looked into your eyes without a single care of the outside world. Some people passed the hallway and flashed a puzzled look at the two of you, but he didn’t seem to notice the struggle going on in your head.

“Uh…” you started.

“I like you.” He blurted out at the same time as you started to speak, which made him blush.

“Uh…” you repeated yourself, unsure of what to do with this information. Your heart skipped a beat, but your head made sure not to believe a single word he said. You couldn’t find your voice. You felt your cheeks flushed hot, and your stomach was heavy. Your heart pounded in your throat, threatening to break out. His eyes wandered around your apartment, avoiding your gaze. Yours stayed locked on him. How many love songs had you heard that said, “He takes my breath away”? Now that line made a lot of sense. 

“I know you probably don’t feel the same way, but I wanted to tell you. I can’t keep befriending you, knowing that would be all there is. I’d like to kiss you again like yesterday. I’d like to kiss you every day if you’d let me.” His hands found their way to you; he cupped your face almost lovingly. You really wanted to believe him; he seemed so sincere.

“We barely know each other.” You bluntly stated, not knowing how to deal with your feelings. He looked defeated, his hands dropped down to his sides, and you immediately missed the warmth of his skin on yours. Your words were blunt, but your actions were sweet, as you took his hands into yours. Your fingers softly caressed the back of his hand soothingly, in a supportive manner.

“I had a plan for last night.” He stated softly, looking intently at your intertwined hands.

“So you told me, but you never told me your plan exactly.” You moved your head a little so you could look into his eyes. 

“I wanted to charm you with a drink I made, especially for you, as I know you like to try something new. I know you like people ordering a drink for you, so you can understand how they see you. I wanted to give you a drink that tasted as sweet as you. I planned to walk you back home, slightly buzzed from the drinks, talking about everything and nothing while under the night sky.” He explained his plan to you, and it somehow made sense. He did look a little bit more dressed up yesterday, and it had been interested in your drink. 

“You did make me a drink, and you did walk me home.” You comforted him with a shy smile on your face. Your words gave him the confidence he had lost when you had opened the door. 

“I also wanted to kiss you the moment you entered the bar yesterday. You looked so incredibly gorgeous; I had to fight Sehun to sit next to you.” His eyes showed you hunger you hadn’t noticed before, not just lust but a longing for you. He saw you weren’t going to say anything, so he continued while taking a step closer to you, almost closing the gap between the two of you. You didn’t step back, but let him get closer to you.

“I know we had only met last week, but I feel this tug at my heart toward you. You’re all I think about. I feel like a teenager again with a stupid crush on the girl next to me in chemistry.” He tried to convince you of his honesty, and you were slowly crumbling to his words.

“You don’t have to tell me you like me too. I know I'm straightforward, but would you say yes if I asked you out on a date?” He intertwines your other hands while asking the final question. The question he had been dying to ask you for over a week. You could only nod your head, as you were mesmerized by his presence and his words. No one has ever confessed their feelings to you. No one has ever made you feel as unique as Baekhyun had at this moment. 

You move your head closer to him. He stays frozen, from fear and excitement. You lean in, so your forehead rest against his. You close your eyes. “Thank you.” You whisper.

“For what?” He replied, his voice low and husky.

“For being so unapologetically you.” Your voice wavers because of the tension of the moment. Unexpectedly, his hand drifted to your hip. It settled there and pulled you closer. You inhaled sharply. You were against his warm chest, chiselled to perfection. Must he be so perfect? His breathing quickened as did yours. He began nuzzling your neck with delicate kisses. So faint, they were almost whispers. His head was angled slightly to the side as his lips came closer and closer to yours. You were surprised to find your lips parted. Your breaths mingled. Your heart fluttered inside your chest, knowing what was to come. You honestly never knew a kiss so innocent could be so intimate and electrifying. 

“Do you have any plans this Friday?” He asked you in between kisses.

“I might have.” You giggled while he sucked at your neck again, he liked to tease you. “If you had paid attention last night you would have known we were going to have dinner at Kyungsoo’s.” You silently teased him, and guilt was written all over his face.

“I still need to explain last night.” He pouted, and for the first time, you pinched his cheeks. He was just too adorable.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” You told him with your hand still on his cheek. His head leaned into your touch, and your heart fluttered at the cuteness. 

“But I want to.” He silently confessed before you were interrupted by Soya leaving the elevator.

“Oh, I-…” she started saying before turning back to the elevator that was already closed again. You heard silently curse under her breath, and you started laughing.

“Hi, Soya!” Baekhyun awkwardly said while running his hand through his hair, secretly watching your reaction.

“Oh, hi Baekhyun, didn’t expect to see you here.” She replied to his greeting. It was honestly a funny thing to see the two of them so awkward.

“He lives next to me; you remember, right?” You asked her, and she simply nodded her head.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Baekhyun secretly tried to reschedule your date.

“Sounds perfect.” You told him while leading Soya into your apartment. He gifted you a smile that reached his eyes, radiating happiness. You couldn’t help but smile back before closing your door.

“Bye Y/N.” He said through your closed door, and you silently laughed at his behaviour. Once you turned around, you met your best friend’s eyes, who demanded an explanation. 

“Chanyeol told me you were confused today, and now I see you in a very compromising position with Baekhyun. We’ve left you alone for like an hour.” 

“Are you talking to Chanyeol?” You asked her in shock. Your work best friend hadn’t mentioned he spoke with Soya outside of the bar. Were they texting or calling each other, huge difference.

“Yes, we exchanged numbers last night.” She confessed, avoiding your eyes.

“He didn’t tell me.” You whispered under your breath, but you couldn’t be mad, he had already explained enough to you.

“We’re all focused on you and your dramatic love life.”

“Dramatic love life? Nothing ever happens to me.” You told her, entering the kitchen to pour a glass of the wine Soya had brought. Maybe you both should stop drinking to avoid all of life’s riddles you didn’t really want to solve. 

“Tell me what happened.” She asked you while you handed her a glass of white wine. You seated yourself on your counter like Baekhyun had done last time, and you told her the complete story from A to Z. How you secretly liked Baekhyun, she knew of course. How jealous you were when that Taeyong girl entered the bar, she knew. How he had kissed you and left you alone to deal with your feelings as if nothing had happened, she didn’t know that one. You told her about your conversation with Chanyeol about the picture and his little set-up that she knew, and you scolded her for not telling you sooner.

“So, today, he finally confessed?” She asked you, hopefully.

“Confessed is such a big word. He just told me he liked me, that’s all.” You tried to play it cool but failed miserably as a big smile grew on your face.

“Oh, you like him, don’t you?” And you really couldn’t hide it. Oh boy, did you hope Baekhyun couldn’t hear your entire conversation. Did you hope Baekhyun wasn’t going to break your little heart now you had confessed your feelings to yourself.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” You asked her seriously.

“No, when you know, you know.” She reassured you.

“Tell me about Chanyeol.” You demanded, an eye for an eye, that’s how friendships work, right?

“He’s very charming.” Was all she said, and you waited impatiently for her to go on. “He makes me forget about Taehyung, and for now that’s enough.” She hesitantly continued, nervously playing with her hands.

“That’s more than enough for now.” You comforted her with a big hug, almost spilling your wine. The evening continued with the both of you talking about boys, wine and life in general. You happily danced with Soya in your living room until the early hours of the morning, maybe you did have a bit too much to drink, but you didn’t care. At that moment she was all you needed to forget about your still unsure feelings for Baekhyun, and stress for your date tomorrow.

Seventh act: you could get used to this.

The next morning you weren’t so happy that you had danced all night. Your headache couldn’t be ignored, your dry mouth had a bad taste, and you forgot Soya had stayed over, leaving no space to stretch in your bed.

“Wake up.” You told her, pulling the blanket away from her. She barely moved, so you just left her to go and take a shower. Once you returned, she had gotten up and made you some breakfast. 

“I know you don’t do breakfast, but I do, so I made you some too.” She told you once you entered the kitchen, looking fresher than you felt. She had made you an egg and some toast, and you almost immediately dug in.

“Thank you.” You finally said with your mouth filled with toast. 

“No problem, thank you for letting me stay over.” She returned before she left to take a shower. You both got dressed in your clothes, she had worn sweatpants yesterday, and both left your apartment to go to work. You were starting to feel better after your coffee from your favourite bakery. You had also bought something sweet for Chanyeol, to thank him for his advice, patience and him being kind to Soya.

“Why?” He asked you suspiciously of your kind act as if you never gave him any of your food.

“Just because.” You simply stated before leaving to your desk to do some work you didn’t want to do. You could barely focus on your work, your headache had gotten worse, and painkillers weren’t helping you. You were wallowing in your self-pity when your phone vibrated, signalling you had a message.

Baekhyun: I got your number from Chanyeol, is that okay?

You: Yes, of course, what’s up?

Baekhyun: I just wanted to ask if we’re still up for tonight?

You: What do you want to do?

Baekhyun: Surprise?

You: Is there a dress code?

Baekhyun: You can wear whatever you feel like wearing.

You: Noted, ready at 6?

Baekhyun: Perfect.

Your day passed rather slowly, as you wanted to go home and get ready for your first official date with Baekhyun. What were you going to wear? Where were you going? All these questions filled your head until it was almost four, and you could finally leave. You sprinted home, not wanting to waste any time when you still had so much to prepare. Would shaving your legs be too hopeful? Maybe you should, better to be prepared than to be hairy. 

After hopping in and out of the shower to shave the necessary parts, you put on your foundation and did your eyebrows. He might have already said he liked you, but you still wanted to impress him. If you wished to do, you could put in the effort, and he was worth the trouble of shaving your body and sculpting your face with a dark powder.

Once your make-up was done, there was only one thing left to do, finding clothes. You didn’t know what you were going to do, and that made choosing your outfit rather tricky. No heels because if he wanted to go out for a walk that could become troublesome. No jeans because that could easily be too casual for a lot of things. So you decided to wear a simple mid-length green skirt with white flowers, paired with a simple white t-shirt tucked into your skirt. You added some white sneakers and a tiny yellow purse, and you were good to go. 

You were casually scrolling through your phone while seated in your couch when a loud knock was heard. That must be Baekhyun, you thought, and you hurriedly made you way over to your front door, stopping in front of the mirror one last time to check your look. You opened the door after taking a long breath to calm your nerves. 

Baekhyun is always handsome; it doesn’t really matter what he wears; he is angelic mixed with something sexy. Today was no different; he wore ripped blue jeans that matched with a white t-shirt tucked in his pants. He topped it off with a loose flannel hanging over his broad shoulders, and you liked the fact that you matched each other. Baekhyun seemed just as stunned when he saw you, as you were with him. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts to form a coherent sentence.

“You look absolutely breathtaking tonight.” He confessed with the biggest of blushes marking his face. 

“You look rather dashing tonight too.” You told him before giving him a small peck on his blushing cheek.

“Are you ready?” 

“I’m ready for an adventure with you.” You told him with a big smile, flashing your teeth. He offered you his arm and guided you toward the destination only he knew about.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked when you both entered his car. You didn’t even know he had a car; he must make a lot more money than you if he could afford a car.

“You’ll see.” And he didn’t falter for the rest of the ride when you tried to get more information out of him. You didn’t notice the car stopping until Baekhyun loosened his seat belt, and you quickly undid yours too. Your eyes scanned the outside of the vehicle, but you couldn’t make any sense of it. He had parked in the middle of the city, in a random street with little to no bars or restaurants.

“Don’t look so disappointed yet.” He told you when he held your door open. You quickly wiped the confusion of your face and replaced with a genuine smile.

“Not disappointed, just confused.” You explained yourself. Baekhyun grabbed your hand and led you toward an ordinary-looking house. It did look a bit old and sketchy, but if you were still enough, you could hear the beat of a pop song playing. Where was he taking you? 

He stopped in the middle of the alleyway to knock on a big black door. A small, hipster-looking lady, opened the door.

“I would ask for a password, but I know you know.” The girl happily stated before hugging Baekhyun. He never let go of your hand, and it strangely comforted you. 

“Thanks.” He told her, and the two of you walked in. You still had no idea where he was taking you. You entered through a sketchy looking alleyway, and now you were speed walking through endless corridors. He finally halted before a red curtain, and slowly opened it for you to enter first. 

The first thing you noticed was a man upon a stage singing with a guitar in his hand, playing a catchy melody you had never heard before. When you both entered the room, he ended his song, and luckily for him, some people clapped their hands politely. You also noticed some people giving him a standing ovation, and they must be his family or some of his friends who felt like family. The room was crowded with people from various backgrounds, which made it all the more alluring to you. Is this their place to forget about their lives for a while? And if so, what were they escaping from? 

“Do you like it?” He whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You looked into his eyes before nodding your head with the biggest smile on your face. He simply chuckled, relieved you liked the place he took you to. 

“This is where I de-stress.” He told you after you both sat down at a table close to the stage. “Whenever I don’t feel good about something, I come here and listen to these people singing their hearts out.” He explained, almost shouting in your hear to be overheard over the new band who started playing. They might be a bit too much at the moment. You wanted to hear Baekhyun’s voice and feel his breath on your skin without being interrupted by a noisy band.

“I like it, Baekhyun. Thank you for inviting me to this place that means a lot to you. I feel special.” You said in his ear, and you could see his eyes wrinkle because of the beautiful smile he was displaying. He turned his head towards yours, and you hoped he would kiss you, but he didn’t.

“You don’t know how special you are, Y/N, especially to me.” His tone had gotten a bit more serious, as to make sure you would believe him. You didn’t know what to say, so you just blushed like you do best. He kissed your cheek before announcing he would go to the bar to get some drinks.

Why was he so intoxicating? Why did all love songs suddenly make sense? He took your breath away, and your heart literately skips a beat when he does something remotely cute. How were you going to survive this date when he was continually knocking all air out of your lungs with just his smile?

A drink was put in front of you, but it wasn’t by Baekhyun, it was the lady who let you inside. She simply smiled and told you to pay attention to the stage, which you thought was strange as no one was performing at the moment. She left you alone in your confusion, something people loved to do when you didn’t want to be left alone. Where the hell was Baekhyun? You didn’t spot him over at the bar, and you immediately thought of the worst. He must have left. He probably thought you were boring. He had a little bit of a chase and decided that was enough.

A voice you recognized coughed on stage, right before you wanted to grab your things and leave. To describe his appearance would be to miss the point totally. He was as handsome as ever, and he didn't give a damn what the others thought of the way he looked.

“Someone once told me everyone needs a little bit of adventure from time to time, and it doesn’t have to be skydiving or anything too wild. For some people, it could be ordering something they would usually never order, for others, it could be singing on a stage in front of a room filled with strangers.” He saw the shock register on your face before you could hide it. A small smile played on his lips; I guess he gets that a lot. The audience tried to whisper, not willing to disturb the new guy on stage. They were all intrigued by his good looks, by merely his presence; he almost got the room to be quiet. It wasn't what he said though; his words were like vanilla pudding, sweet in their ordinary sort of way; it was the richness of his tones – luxurious and warm.

“This is a little cover of a song that has been stuck in my head for over a week now. Enjoy.” He ended his monologue before seating himself at the piano, creating an aura of mystery. His fingers you had admired from the start, began their play on the piano, and you were hooked. His hands gracefully moved, creating a beautiful melody you recognized. He started singing a song you remembered hearing on the radio all the while his eyes made contact with yours. Searching for some confirmation, that you gladly gave him in the form of an encouraging smile.

Oh to be young and in love in New York City. To not know who I am but still know that I’m good as long as you’re here with me. To be drunk and in love in New York City. Midnight into morning coffee, burning the hours talking.

Damn, I like me better when I’m with you, I like me better when I’m with you. I knew from the first time; I’d stay for a long time because I like me better when I’m with you.

It felt like he sang this song just for you, these words were only meant to be heard by you, meant just for you. Once he ended his performance, everyone in the room got up and applauded him, but he didn’t seem to care. He kept his eyes on you while you softly applauded him. Like in the movies, he immediately ran off the stage into your arms. You hugged him and whispered words of encouragement in his ears. “You did so well, Baekhyun. I’m extremely proud of you.”

“Thank you.” He whispered into your ear. His eyes were gazing into yours like he was looking far beyond the hair and makeup. You stand and stare back at his eyes that glimmered like the stars in the sky, forgetting you were in public with all attention on you. Gentle but passionate, he presses his lips onto yours. The world around you slowed so that you could be in this moment. Your heart flutters, and you kiss him back, cherishing the moment and Baekhyun. His lips are soft and warm. He puts his hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. You pull back and smile. 

“Now, that’s what I call a performance.” The girl from earlier said while giving Baekhyun a beer. “That was extremely good. If you ever want to sing again, don’t hesitate.” She reminded Baekhyun before leaving us with our blushing cheeks and rapidly beating hearts.

“Did you like it?” He asked you after a comfortable moment of silence where you both took small sips from your drinks.

“I loved it; I really think you should sing here again. Was this your first time?” You asked him suspiciously; he was way too good for a first-timer.

“Yes, I wanted to share this with you.” He confessed. “It’s something that I’ve always wanted to do, but your words brought me over the edge. I just had to do this so that you would be proud.” His confidence and adrenaline slowly disappeared to make room for his shyness you had come to know and love. People talk about "mixed feelings" like it's an exception, but for Baekhyun it's the norm. He’s scared to try and scared not to; it all depends on if everything is going according to his plan.

“You most definitely succeeded. I’m speechless.” You complimented him again, now with your hand over his.

“I also feel that I have to explain some stuff, from the other night.” He began, but you quickly interrupted. “Baekhyun, you really don’t have to tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” Your eyes briefly met, still awkward and shy around each other. There was still so much for him to know about you and for him to explain, but tonight was not the time to dig deeper into each other's lives.

“I want tonight to just be about us, now.” You told him emphasizing the last word. 

“So I’ll still see you after tonight?” He asked you flirtatiously.

“We’re neighbours.” You shrugged, deliberately ignoring his flirting.

“Yes, but outside of that.” He tried again with a little wink. You almost faltered. “It depends.” You say.

“I’ll have to make it the best night of your life, just to be sure.”

“That eager to see me again?” You asked him, giddy with excitement for the rest of the night.

“It’s like I can’t get enough of you.” His warm, raspy voice whispered slowly into your ear, sending nerves dancing up your spine. His smile sent your mind into an uncontrolled, captivated spiral and his light touch lingered.

Most of the night went by with some innocent flirting that got your tumultuous thudding heart in overdrive. Somewhere along with the third drink, you got a bit touchy with each other, quickly paying your bill and leaving the public space before any accidents could happen. You made out on your way home and played a little game where you had to kiss every time you passed a brown door. You never noticed it, but there are a lot of brown doors in the city, and it felt like you had been walking home for hours.

Remembering you both forgot Baekhyun’s car at the bar, you decided to celebrate early Alzheimer's with a small bottle of vodka that you bought in a night shop close by home.

“I haven’t done this in over a year.” You happily exclaimed when Baekhyun carefully opened the bottle like it was made out of pure gold.

“Shouldn’t we mix it with something?” He asked after sniffing the bottle, and visibly cringing.

“No, that’s how the losers drink vodka.” You told him before taking a sip of the bottle. You forgot how intense the liquor was, and asked Baekhyun to buy you something to mix the vodka with. You weren’t twenty years old anymore; maybe you should stop trying to be. 

“My loser wanted a sprite, so she gets a sprite.” Baekhyun laughed while he handed you your drink. You pouted when you mixed the sprite with vodka, but Baekhyun was quick to change that pout into a smile. He had taken a photo of you and was showing you off to every passerby, stating he was dating the most beautiful girl. 

“Baekhyun, please stop.” You laughed at him. You gave him the mixed drink, and he finally took a sip of it.

“I’ve never liked strong liquor, but for you, I will try.”

“We don’t have to finish it, you know. That’s the beauty in night drinking. YOLO is what the younger people call it.”

“You’re definitely the beauty in night drinking.”

“Baekhyun, stop being so…” you began, but because of the alcohol, your vocabulary had decreased to only one word: Baekhyun.

“So what? Infatuated? Because I am.” He confessed while grabbing your waist, making you come closer to his. He peppered you with kisses, ignoring passersby.

“I might be too.” You sighed into him, and there was a sudden change noticeable in the air after your confessions. You had both admitted it tonight, and a realization hit you when you noticed the hunger in Baekhyun’s eyes. His hands travelled over your body to your face, where he softly stroked your lips.

“This might be my favourite look, smudged make-up and swollen lips.” He told you, his voice low and husky. 

“My favourite look is you stretching and showing off your abs.” You boldly told him, surprising yourself and Baekhyun with your straightforwardness. 

“Let’s go home.” You softly hummed, and he took it as his cue to take your hand, guiding you toward your apartment building, never stopping the brown door game, as it was too much fun to stop. 

It was almost three in the morning when you both stumbled out of the elevator while aggressively making out. His hands had gotten under your shirt, and your hands were roughly in his hair. It was a mess, but it was a fun mess. You drew your tongue over his teeth and swallowed his groan of pleasure as you slid closer to each other, no visible gap between the two of you. 

You quickly detached yourself so you could look for your keys, and by your surprise you immediately found them. Opening the door was another difficult task, but Baekhyun quickly took over, helping you open the door. Once inside, the two of you closed the gap once again, not wanting to waste a minute or even a second.

With a laugh, he lifts you right off your feet, carrying you toward the bed, letting you fall with a soft bounce on the mattress. You lock eyes for just a moment, just enough for you to feel safe with one another. 

Then he's all business, undoing your skirt, pulling them off, kissing from your toes upward, slowly, his hands on your legs, always just a little higher than the kisses. You feel your back arch in anticipation, knowing where his fingers will soon reach. Your head rocks back against the pillow as he does, the first moan escaping your lips.

It isn't the first time for either of you, but you’re both so nervous you'd never know it. There's something about him that lights you up from the inside, there's something about you that melts his confidence to nothing at all.

Then before you know how it happened, you are naked, and your skin is moving softly together. You feel his hand enter from below moving fast, your tongues entwined in a kiss, and then he's inside, changing your breathing with every thrust, hearing your moans timed to his body. 

Then all at once he stops and kisses from your breasts to your stomach, his hands light; then he's licking and using his fingers all at once, watching your reaction, feeling how your legs move, watching your body writhe. He tells you he's going to make you beg for it and you just let out a moan, unable to articulate a response. 

It didn’t take you long before you came completely undone under his touch, screaming his name and moaning in ecstasy. Once you were finished, you helped him by stroking his member softly, and teasingly whispering words of encouragement in his ear. It didn’t take him long after you topped it all off by kissing his neck and biting his ear.

You both fell asleep while holding each other tight. His arms were perfectly draped around you like a blanket while you snuggled like a baby into his chest. His perfectly sculpted chest you couldn’t get enough off, but you could really get used to sharing a bed with Baekhyun, your cute new neighbour.

— Finished

[kittae]

Bottoms Up

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader

Side characters: Min Yoongi, Jey

Summary: A drabble series where Taehyung is a successful artistic erotica actor but has to expand his areas of expertise in the rapidly evolving world of adult film. Lost and inexperienced in everything that doesn’t involve classy settings, flattering lighting and romantic scripts, he basically has to start from scratch to make it in the online porn community. As a highly demanded A-lister in that community, you take him under your wings (or better yet, between your legs).

Genre: Smut, fluff, a bit of comedy here and there. Maybe some angst, who knows.

words: 1368

Disclaimer: Slight alcohol intoxication, dialogue-heavy, foul language, both of them had too much to drink and are being annoying lmao

« previous — next »

“I trusted you! You’ve betrayed my trust!” Taehyung wails, dramatically flinging himself against the wall of Yoongi’s living room.

“Stop acting, you’re going to drain yourself.” Yoongi murmurs as he pours himself another drink. “Besides, why are you being like this in the first place? The shoot went better than expected, you should be celebrating with me instead of fake crying.”

“I’m not fake crying.”

“Yes, you are and you know what else you are?” Yoongi takes a sip of his whiskey, “Killing my buzz.”

Taehyung merely pouts, knowing his crocodile tears aren’t going to coax sympathy out of the slightly tipsy older man. “You should’ve discussed this with me in advance.”

“You know, I totally would’ve if you hadn’t been such a stubborn baby about the whole ordeal from the beginning. I could barely get you to agree to the shoot, heavens know how you would have reacted if I told you about the seminars.”

“You know what?” Taehyung scoffs, heated, “I’m sorry if I inconvenienced you by showing my true feelings towards your off-putting suggestions.”

Yoongi snorts, rolling his eyes and taking a rather large gulp from his glass.

“But I am who I am and I thought you supported me! You’re making plans behind my back instead.” Taehyung presses on, crossing his arms in displeasure. He didn’t come here with the intention of making a fuss considering everything went shockingly well today, yet he needs to make sure that Yoongi knows how he feels about the secretive way he handled things.

“If I don’t make plans behind your back sometimes, we’re not gonna get anywhere,” Yoongi calmly explains, gesturing with the crystal glass in his hand, “You only got to expand your boundaries today because I arranged it like that and that’s what being partners is all about.”

“No,” Taehyung slowly counters, “Being partners is about trust and honesty, which is the opposite of what you did today.”

“Noooo, I really don’t feel like arguing right now,” Yoongi groans as he slouches further into his padded couch, “Can’t we just hold hands and call it a day?”

Taehyung squeezes his eyes to slits, “Don’t try to bribe me into forgiving you, hyung.”

“Why not? You do it all the time.” The manager grumbles, reaching for the bottle to prevent his glass from getting empty.

After fiddling with the buttons of his silk, albeit questionably patterned shirt, Taehyung sighs and collects himself. He then goes over to Yoongi’s liquor cabinet to fetch a glass identical to that of his manager.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi asks, an amused look on his face.

Tae shrugs as he flops down next to his friend and plucks the bottle right out of his hand. “Getting a drink.”

“You hate alcohol.”

“Correct,” Taehyung responds matter-of-factly, “I just like the aesthetic of swirling scotch around in a crystal glass while I ponder over what you could do to get my trust back.”

Yoongi scoffs. “How about not kicking you out of my apartment? Sounds good?” He raises his brows, briefly letting the amber liquor tickle his tongue, savoring the slight burn when it hits his throat. “You’re here more than at your own place. You’re lucky I’m not charging you for rent and unwanted sleepovers.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Taehyung gasps.

“You are the only one allowed in my apartment and even you will lose your apartment privileges if you won’t quit it.” Yoongi warns seriously. “And those include storm cuddles and hurricane hangouts.”

Taehyung look absolutely horrified and gulps hard before taking a big swig of the whiskey in pure misery. Needless to say he instantly regrets it, the liquid too sharp and the vile taste of alcohol burning through his throat. He coughs dramatically as if he’d just drank poison, with Yoongi already on his way to the kitchen to get him a diet coke to wash it down –although not without an eyeroll or two.

“I swear you’re worse than a baby sometimes.” He sighs as he opens the can for his teary-eyed younger friend who reaches for the soda as if it’s his only lifeline. “Bet seeing you like this would burst more than a few bubbles of the women who love your films.”

Taehyung says nothing, too busy chugging the coke ad fundum. Only when any trace of the whiskey taste is gone, can he relax. And he does, with a big, content smile on his face.

“Love you, hyung. You know that, right?” He coos, nestling his head on the older man’s shoulder, who responds with a barely suppressed sound of disgust.

“Fuck’s sake Taehyung, did you get drunk from that one sip already?” Yoongi frets, exasperated.

“Sometimes... people w-won’t never adjust to changes.” Tae offers a vague explanation, followed by a hiccup as he makes himself cozy against his manager’s side to take a nap.

Yoongi gives up, sighing, simply patting the younger’s head and accepting his punishment. “Alright buddy.”

“–and then he just flipped a switch or something! Woah, you should’ve seen it, it was really incredible.” You conclude before you wash down the spicy food with some more beer.

“Yeah, it must’ve been...Seeing how it’s the only thing you could talk about for the past hour,” Jey chuckles, reaching for another snack. The dining tent is crowded this evening, lots of noise and ruckus of other drunk customers filling your ears while you talk.

“Ah, sorry… Do I talk about it too much?” You grimace.

“Nah, you’re fine,” she waves away your concern with a laugh, “It sounds like it was a whole experience. I’ve never seen him like that either so it is kind of fascinating to me to hear this.”

You gasp, snapping your fingers when you recall something. “Right! You once told me you sometimes work for him!”

She frowns. “Told you twice… Actually, Yoongi called me today asking for my help but I was booked.”

“Is he usually shy like that? When you fluff him? No, wait, not shy– Uh, you know, super careful?”

Jey full out laughs at your rambling now, “Honestly, I’ve never seen you so invested in one of your projects before.”

You pout at that, “Don’t call him that.”

“Oh my god, ___, are you in love with him or something? You’re creeping me out.” She pulls a face before cupping your hot cheeks with her palms. “Oh, nevermind. You’re just super drunk.”

Shrugging, you shake off her hands like a child, only to replace them with your own when you rest your chin in them, elbows on the wonky, iron table as you lean over to her, smiling wide. “I still haven’t seen his dick,” You whisper-shout and Jey snorts at your drunken obliviousness. “Tell me about it.”

“Alright, sweetie, you’re making it weird,” she flicks your forehead and you whine, “It wouldn’t be very professional of me if I told you, hmm? Besides, didn’t you binge his films last week? I think you have a good enough idea of what his dick looks like.”

“But I’m so frustrated!” Your whining gets louder and more heated as you put up your index finger and practically shove it in Jey’s face, “I just wanted to feel it once, Jey. Just once.”

“Time for some water I think,” Jey raises her eyebrows and calls the owner of the tent for a bottle, “I don’t get what you’re getting worked up about. He’s going to be taking your classes, right? You’ll have plenty of chances to suck his dick later so stop crying about it, jeez.”

You clap your hands and giggle, the alcohol really starting to get in your head, “That’s true! I can still suck his dick then!”

“Shhh!” A hand instantly comes to cover your mouth before you can say more. “You don’t have to shout! What’s wrong with you?!”

“Mmmight be getting a little bit tipsy,” you helpfully suggest as if she hasn’t been trying to sober you up since you started talking about Taehyung’s dick.

“No shit, really? After only six beers?” She jeers sarcastically while forcing the bottle of water against your lips, sighing in relief when you allow it and start swallowing. “Let’s get you home, messy girl.”

Heliotrope masterlist

[animemangasoul]

5 times Tachihara is shocked by people kissing his co-worker on the cheek and one time he does it himself

Chapter: 2/5 -  Chuuya

The mission had ended in success, or what Tachihara kinda thought of as success. Majority of their men had minor injuries here and there, Tachihara himself had a broken wrist; which sucked, but it was Gin that had taken the brunt of the attack directed at him.

He didn’t want to admit it, but-

Some niggling feeling in the back of his mind kept urging him to at least check on the other man, if only to see for himself how compromised he was.  

Having made up his mind, Tachihara turned to one of the nameless goons standing next to him and told him to take care of things while he was gone. “Don’t mess anything up till I get back,” he added, leaving the other man in charge with a last warning glare.

---

Gin turned out not to be an easy man to find. Having walked around for what felt like hours; wrist throbbing painfully where he’d held it gingerly against his body, he sighed in frustration. Just as he was about to give this pointless quest up however, he spotted the person he was looking for from the corner of his eye.

The masked man was sitting on a slab of metal, injured leg stretched out in front of him and torn coat discarded on the way side. He was fiddling with some sort of object they recovered during the attack with thin fingers covered in blood.

He looked like shit.

‘Finally,’ Tachihara thought, making a quick turn in the direction of the other male, intending to get his questions answered quickly, and maybe harass his teammate while he was at it. ‘Took me long enough to find you.’  

“Oi Gin, I told you not to move!”

Tachihara’s steps faltered and his head snapped in the direction of the redhead coming around the corner heading for the masked man, he himself had wanted to talk to.  

Gin looked up from where he was sitting, tilting his head slightly and shrugging his shoulders in answer.

Chuuya-san sighed. “You’re hopeless,” he said, but Tachihara didn’t manage to catch anything else, as his superior made it all the way over to Gin, and thus too far away for Tachihara to make out their one-sided conversation.  

He frowned, observing their bowed head and the endless movements of Chuuya-san's mouth in what was most likely nonsense chatter to distract Gin from the first aid treatment his leg was going through in the capable hands of the redhead. Tachihara knew he could just join them. He was good with conversations, hell no one could actually shut him up if he got going but-

His mouth twitched downward. It didn’t look like he would be welcomed. Not that they would have shunned him or anything, but clearly a more familiar dialogue was going on between the two of them.

Tachihara wasn’t sure he would fit in.  

‘Since when?’ he thought silently. He knew Chuuya-san was a friendly individual and got along with practically anyone, but Gin? When?

Oh well, it was none of his business either way, but just as he’d decided to get back to the cleanup crew he was supposed to be supervising, Chuuya-san did something that froze him in his spot.

The older man had smiled a genuine smile at something Gin most have implied, before he cupped his face in his gloved hands, leaned over, and planted a kiss on his cheek.

It took all Tachihara had not to just tumble to the floor in utter shock.

‘What the fuck?’  

Did that just- Did that...What?

Turning quickly around, he scrambled out of there like his tail was on fire. He had no idea! Were they together or something?  

No-

It hadn’t looked like that. It hadn’t looked romantic at all.

Tachihara’s mind was racing to make sense of what he’d actually witnessed. Chuuya-san had always been very generous with his affection. A casual arm thrown over your shoulder here, a hair ruffle there and even helping Akutagawa wash his back from time to time, but-

He didn’t kiss them! Still, the action had looked so familiar, Gin hadn’t recoiled back, instead the other male had playfully pushed him away, but also, he’d let the other man ruffle his hair, in fact, leaning down easily enough for Chuuya-san to run his fingers through them. It looked familial in a sense. Like siblings almost. It almost reminded him of his own olde br-

‘Stop,’ Tachihara shook his head furiously. ‘Don’t think about it. It’s none of your business. Be professional, let it go.’  

So he did.  

Never bringing it up.  

But, he did wonder. Of course he did. Especially since the vague memories of Kouyou-sama doing the exact same thing about a year ago made it all seem weirdly adorable, and frankly Tachihara didn’t know what to think of that at all.  

To be continued......

1 , 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

[alittlextrathatway]

Brettsey Prompt: “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

A/N: Not gonna lie I picked that dialogue list hoping someone would choose this prompt! lmao

31. “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

you can find more info on the prompt game here.

—————————————

A slow day at Firehouse 51 was rare and when it happened you didn’t talk about it. The minute you state any observation about said slowness, the peace is over. So they set about finding things to do. There was cleaning, washing the trucks and ambo, and laundry. Matt even noticed Sylvie alphabetizing the magazines in the common area. But eventually they ran out of busy work.

Some people decided to use the time to catch up on sleep. Herrmann and Severide used the time for paperwork, but Casey wasn’t behind on his paperwork so that wouldn’t work for him.

He heads toward the common room to try and find something to keep him busy. Under no circumstances could he say he’s bored or appear to be bored because that is exactly when this spell of calm would end. Chicago does not need another city wide gas emergency or flesh eating bacteria scare or whatever the hell else insane thing they could come up against.

He finds Brett pouring over a laptop with a furrowed brow. He fixes himself a cup of coffee before joining her at the round table.

“Hey,” Matt greets as he angles himself toward her.

“Hey,” she replies distractedly.

“You okay?” He asks in concern.

She rolls her eyes but nods. “Foster created an online dating profile for me without asking so now I’m trying to eradicate its existence before I end up with random guys messaging me dick pics.”

He winces and shakes his head at her. “Do guys on those services actually do that?”

“Yes,” she replies with a huff. She doesn’t elaborate and he’s glad for that.

“Foster really wants you to get back out there, huh?” Matt asks as concern stirs in the back corner of his mind.

“She thinks it’s been too long,” Brett answers with a shrug. “She might be right. I mean you’ve been out there a lot lately. No reason I shouldn’t be too.”

He tenses and tries to keep his eyes from widening. She noticed that? He hadn’t spent much time talking about it but he supposes with Stella living with them now it’s not a stretch to think Kidd told her. The truth is, he’s not exactly proud of it. He’s spinning out and he knows it. Not that he can say any of that to Brett. She’s the reason he’s spinning out in the first place. Trying to avoid having feelings for someone is hard work. It had been a while since he’d had serious feelings for anyone and he isn’t sure if risking his friendship with Brett is the right move. But he’s not sure it’s the wrong move either. And then he wondered if he maybe he was just lonely and his brain was making him feel things that weren’t really there.

He thought if he could redirect what he feels for Brett and focus it on someone else then he could prove to himself that it was loneliness and not real feelings. So far, that hadn’t worked. He’d been on a handful of dates at this point and all of them ended the same way.

No sparks. No tension. No lingering looks that make him question everything he thinks he knows. Just bland and boring perfectly fine dinners with women who weren’t Sylvie Brett.

“You’ve been out there,” he supplies weakly. “I mean, there was that Ryan guy.”

The Ryan guy that annoyed him despite seeming perfectly nice.

“That was one date…over lunch. And honestly I wasn’t even sure it was a date until he tried to kiss me so I really don’t think that’s worth claiming,” she admits with a scoff. “I don’t know I just…I don’t wait to date a guy just because he’s nice and polite. I want…I want more than that. I want something real. Something I don’t have to force or chase or contort myself to reach. Is that too much to ask?”

“No,” he agrees. “You deserve that, Brett. You deserve to have all the things you want.”

She lets out a hopeless sigh and then looks away from her laptop to meet his eyes. They share a look that carries on for several moments and he knows it has meaning. He recognizes the emotions behind Sylvie’s stare. At that moment he knows, without a doubt, that she’s been struggling with the same issue as him. She’s feeling something for him and she doesn’t know what to do with it.

If she’s feeling it too then why are either of them fighting it? It’s a big risk, sure, but he was only unwilling to take it before because he was afraid it was one-sided. Now he knows that it isn’t, a big wave of bravery crashes over him. Sylvie wants something that feels natural and easy. That’s the two of them. The amount of times they’ve talked or made sure to show up for each other assure him of that. Now, to make sure she sees it too.

“You and I can’t keep doing this,” he insists.

“Doing what?” She asks warily.

“Dating the wrong people. Questioning everything we feel. Talking ourselves out of the very things we know we want.”

Sylvie closes the laptop, fiddles with her watchband (a habit he knows she does when she’s nervous) and then gives him a tiny hopeful smile that nearly stops his heart.

“We?” She questions.

“We,” he confirms with a thick swallow. “Sylvie, you have the wrong idea about these dates I’ve been going on.”

Her eyes narrow but she doesn’t ask for elaboration. He explains himself anyway.

“When I said you and I can’t keep doing this, what I really meant was…” Now or never, Casey. There’s no way you’re chickening out when you face roaring fires and gas explosions on a bi-weekly basis. “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

A soft gasp brings his eyes to hers and he finds delighted disbelief reflected back at him.

“I—I don’t understand. So the dates that you went on…”

“I kept trying to distract myself from you,” he replies when her question fades expectantly. “It didn’t work.”

“Well,” she says quietly while glancing around the common room for prying ears. “I have a very simple solution for you.” She reaches out a hand and wraps it around his before tugging him closer, beaming at him the entire time. “Stop pretending to kiss me and just do it already.”

“Here? Now?” He asks with pleasant surprise.

“There’s no one else around. Besides, didn’t you just say that we should stop talking ourselves out of the things we want?” She challenges with a triumphant grin.

That grin lures him closer until his lips are a breath away from hers. He spent all this time trying to convince himself Brett wouldn’t want him or that losing their friendship wasn’t worth the risk, but he was wrong on both counts. Based on the enticing smile and impatient look in her eyes she does want him and finding out where that might lead then is absolutely worth the risk.

He closes the distance and finally covers her lips with his. Her lips feel perfect against his. Soft and giving like Sylvie herself. Until she sucks his bottom lip in between hers and then some of that assertiveness he’s always admired shows itself. The kiss gets away from them and deepens as lips part and tongues explore.

Holy shit, she’s good at this. He needs more. More of her insistent mouth. More of her soft skin than what he feels under his palm that cups her jaw. More of her. His free hand finds her waist and starts to work it’s way under her shirt — only for the bells to sound and announce a call for Ambo 61. He lets out a frustrated curse which causes Sylvie to laugh softly as she pulls away from him.

“Don’t worry,” she says reassuringly, carding a soothing touch through his hair. “We’re definitely finishing this discussion when I get back.”

He smirks at her back as she leaves. He should have done that a long time ago. No more pretending to kiss Sylvie Brett. No more kissing anyone other than her, for that matter. He should have known the reality would be far better than the fantasy. Sylvie Brett has always impressed him before. There’s no reason for that to change now.

[bekahdoesnerdshit]

one of each for each otp,,,,, for brilliance/sienna: 3, 10 (prose boy...... ), 19, 31! for raini/ecstasy: 1, 14, 23, 26!

YES now my plan to make you care about my paladin you’ve never met can really come to fruition.....it worked for cog it can work for this gay bitch too.....

Super super minor nsfw for 23 and 26 for Raini, and I guess technically 31 for Brilliance but honestly not really. Enjoy!

Brilliance & Sienna

3. If they complimented each other, what would they say? Not to sound like a lesbian, but Brilliance thinks Sienna hung the moon. She’s so beyond smitten with this woman, and if anyone makes the mistake of asking her about her fiancée (which her party would never do because they’re a) hets who b) don’t care about rp) Brilliance would easily be able to spend hours talking about everything that makes Sienna the absolutely amazing woman she is. Brilliance admires Sienna’s patience, her quiet determination to get things done right, and her easy, calming presence. She’s compassionate and honest, and she makes the people around her want to be better than they are without having to say a word. She’s beautiful, inside and out, and Brilliance thanks Sune every day that fate brought them together. And check this out! Sienna loves Brilliance just as much! They’re in love! Sienna admires how willing Brilliance is to take charge in difficult situations, and that her primary concern when taking charge is making sure the people under her are safe. She’s intentional and unwavering in her resolve and devotion to the people she loves. Sienna loves how Brilliance is able to find beauty in just about anything, and how fiercely she’ll fight to protect the light and beauty she sees in the world. She loves her insistence on giving people second chances, even when they may not deserve it. Brilliance embodies the phrase “get behind me”, and while Sienna often wishes Brilliance would let her share that burden, she understands that Brilliance does what she does to show love.  10. Write a ~300 word argument scene for them.  It’s been three days since Conviction’s death. Since they found his body at least; he’d been missing longer than that. It was murder, anyone could see that, but no one has any delusions about it being investigated as one, let alone prosecuted. He shouldn’t have been involved with those rebels, people say. It’s his own fault for stirring up trouble where there didn’t need to be any. There’s been multiple times where Sienna’s quiet touch to Brilliance’s arm has been the only thing to keep her from lashing out at someone who implied that and while she’s grateful for the temperance, part of her can’t help feeling that grief hardened by anger might hurt less.  It’s been three days since they pulled her brother’s body out of the sewers, and Brilliance knows she needs to go home. Her mother is devastated, her father considers his obligation to help fulfilled by paying for the funeral, and as loathe as she is to return to her childhood home Brilliance knows it’s her duty to be there. Sienna comes back to their tiny (Sienna calls it cozy to make Brilliance laugh), dingy (”lived in!” she insists) apartment to find Brilliance packing, and the pity in her gaze makes Brilliance tugs her arm free when Sienna reaches out for her.  “I have to,” Brilliance says, resolutely keeping her focus on the suitcase laid out in front of her. “Sienna, my heart, I have to. My mother--” Sienna reaches out to cup Brilliance’s cheek, to tilt her face toward her. Brilliance, though reluctant, allows it. “Your mother,” Sienna chides gently, “is a grown woman, who is welcome to stay with us. We’ll make room. But starlight, you don’t need to be in that house. Not ever again, and certainly not right now. Stop for a minute, sit down, we can talk about this...” The conversation begins to unravel from there. Sienna is right; her father’s house is the worst place for Brilliance to be to grieve. Brilliance is right; Sienna is an only child, who lost her mother when she was young. She has no context to understand what Brilliance is going through. Neither of them raise their voice, but there’s an edge to their words that normally has no place in their home. Brilliance gets frustrated, feels herself start to get angry, and she makes the decision to walk away and cool down. She comes back to find Sienna asleep or feigning it, back to the door in a way that feels pointed. At that point it’s well after midnight, and Brilliance doesn’t know what to do about the conversation she’d walked out of. Eventually she goes to bed as well, facing the door, sleeping further from Sienna than she has since they moved in together. She knows better than to go to bed angry, but right now Brilliance can’t stomach the thought of reigniting their argument again that night. She closes her eyes, and hopes they can work things out in the morning before Brilliance leaves for home. 19. If they could each write a single line in their marriage vows, what would they be? Brilliance: You are my peace, my joy, my steadfast foundation; my world is better for having you in it, and I will work for the rest of my life to make sure you can always say the same. Sienna: Whatever I did to earn it, thank you, starlight, for trusting me with you heart; it is my privilege and my honor to be for you what you are to so many others. 31. What do they love to do after sex? Probably, like. Kiss a bunch? Ew!!  But like honestly? Yeah! I think they’re a Big fan of soft, sleepy morning sex, especially on days where Brilliance isn’t needed at the church until the evening and Sienna has the day off. Why not indulge on those days when you can doze off again for a little while, with your beloved asleep on your chest? Brilliance is running her fingers through Sienna’s hair and pressing the occasional kiss to the top of her head, Sienna is tracing absentminded shapes against Brilliance’s collarbone, and they’re just enjoying being warm and sleepy and together with no prospect of that changing anytime soon. 

Raini & Ecstasy

1. What are things they both find funny? I’m gonna take a shot in the dark and say. Shitty people’s misfortune? Not necessarily objectively shitty people, just people they’ve decided they don’t like. Ecstasy telling a story about the dumbass fantasy customs agent she “tricked” (because tricked is a strong word, really. It wasn’t all that hard, and that’s what makes it So funny) into marking her ship with its cargo full of stolen goods and also probably like fantasy weed as “clean” to enter some city? Hilarious. Raini talking about casting Mage Hand under the table at some stuffy negotiations and pulling just hard enough on the chair leg of the asshole who’s already leaning back further than he should be and sending him crashing out of his chair? Fucking hysterical. They’re assholes, but they’re assholes together. And, at the end of the day, that’s what matters! 14. What would be a dealbreaker? At risk of sounding too predictable, for Raini it would have to be something along the lines of finding out that Ecstasy is and has been seeing someone else seriously while they’ve been together together. It’s one thing to sleep around a little when you’re still just a booty call, or even to meet someone pretty and check with your partner that they’re okay with you having a one night stand. If you’re communicating, and everyone involved is okay with it, that’s fine! However, it’s another thing entirely to find out that you’ve been playing second fiddle in terms of your long term girlfriend’s affection for god knows how long. Honestly, I’m not sure Ecstasy would survive an argument started by Raini finding something like that out. I won’t speak too much on Ecstasy’s dealbreaker so I don’t overstep or guess Wrong, but I feel like if we hadn’t gotten our memories back things would have eventually fallen apart. I don’t know if I think there would have been some big climactic fight to end things so much as a sort of just... fading away? A heartbreaking parallel to how slowly they’d entangled themselves in each other’s lives before, and really? Who could blame Ecstasy for pulling away from a situation like that. And without the memories and the context to know why it hurts so much now that things are different, I don’t know if Raini would have gone chasing after her.  23. Write a ~300 scene between them with no dialogue, only body language. They’re supposed to be keeping an eye out for some diplomat, Raini thinks. It’s some trouble about wanting to make sure he hadn’t been intimidated into feeding information or supplies to some foreign power, potentially by doing some intimidating themselves. It seemed important at the time, when they made plans to secure invitations to a ball they’d knew he’d be attending. It had seemed important when she’d stayed up the night before sewing hidden pockets into the folds of the dress she’d be wearing so that she would have some way of smuggling spell components in with her. In fact, it had seemed important up until Raini looked up toward the source of commotion across the ballroom and found herself staring at a tiefling who had absolutely no right to be here. She’s wearing a starch pressed naval uniform -admiral, at least, and almost certainly stolen- that looks like it was made for her, golden buttons and unearned medals gleaming in the candlelight, boots that hug her calves like it’s their damn job, head thrown back as she laughs at something she said-- Raini’s eyes widen then narrow, shocked then indignant that this criminal had the gall to show her face here. They make eye contact seconds later and Raini scoffs at the way the pirate’s eyebrows shoot up at the sight of her. And then she has the audacity to wave? A lazy, two fingered acknowledgement that has Raini glaring daggers in return and setting aside the champagne she’d picked up so that she can stalk across the room to give the pirate a piece of her mind. The pirate seems to have the same thought, and excuses herself from the conversation she’d been having to intercept Raini halfway.  Her cocksure grin has only widened by the time their paths collide, and she effortless cuts off the scathing diatribe Raini had at the ready by extending her hand as an invitation to dance, and raising an eyebrow as a challenge to refuse. Raini, at a loss for words for one of the first times in her life, huffs and crosses her arms, turning up her nose in disdain. The audacity! The gall! The sheer impudence, it’s- It’s staggering. ...still. Raini’s eyes cut back to the fit of the pirate’s stolen uniform, to the shine of its gilding and her buffed leather boots, to the way she holds herself with the confidence that she has every right to be here and every expectation Raini will agree to dance. It’s absolutely infuriating; it’s the hottest thing Raini’s ever seen in her life.  The pirate’s hand is warm when Raini takes it, and the hand that settles low on her waist is even more so. The hand that slips around to the small of her back when the song finishes, turning her toward the open glass doors that lead out to a well-manicured, dimly lit garden sets a similar heat burning across her cheeks, and the hands that lay her out in a dark corner of the garden and creep up her thighs under the hem of her dress are a searing, white hot. 26. What are their favorite parts about physical affection/sex? Raini enjoys the chase! The flirting, the banter, the circling around one another and drawing each other in inch by inch until one of you caves and makes the first move. She loves feeling eyes on her back even though she acts like she doesn’t notice, loves feeling her own pulse begin to race and knowing that across from her Ecstasy’s is doing the same. She loves watching the edges of Ecstasy’s grin go sharp, watching her tail lash against the floor, while all the while she’s carrying on their conversation like nothing has changed. She loves the way her robes start to feel too hot, too heavy, and the way Ecstasy’s gaze tracks her movements as she reaches up to pull the collar open just a bit wider. The brush of a hand on her waist when the tension becomes too much, a silent order to follow to somewhere more private so you can both make good on everything your flirting promised. The sex is good, without question. But the build up? The anticipation? The Showmanship? That’s how you get repeat customers!  She also loves getting her pussy ate to the point that her thighs tremble and resent having to hold her up afterward, but really who wouldn’t? Nothing hotter than your sexy pirate girlfriend fucking you senseless then coming up for air, face wet from nose to chin, wearing an absolutely shit eating grin.

[writer-and-artist27]

Hike Home

Note: Because I finally got back into My Hero Academia, Shinsō reminds me way too much of Leo, aaaand I had a nice date with Leo, so the idea came to me. This is based off of an experience I had while in Iceland. Let’s just say there’s more to things in life when there’s no life-ending drama going on. And for once, the ninja don’t even get more than a few lines of dialogue. :p

A sequel to Oracion. Both parts.

For a theme, I recommend Theister’s piano cover of MHA’s Peace Sign from Season 2. :) 

Thinking of you, @wingbladeweaver1357, since our talks helped me write out the idea. Also, @chiefladylightyay, since I end up seeing your reviews on Shell Game on Tumblr enough to remind me that I need to catch up on reviews. 

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

Out in the blazing sun, Shinsō can say with definite clarity: he doesn’t know what to make of the girl known as the Chocolate Fairy. 

Hoshino Tomoko wasn’t his classmate, but a friend of sorts. And she was weird. And short. 

She was a year younger than him, enrolled in the same class where he and Gekkō met a year ago, and somehow she was brighter and happier than anyone else there. Even Kayama-sensei could be put to shame with how many times her voice stood out in the crowd. A lot of the folks in General Studies could be summed up as “indignant and upset” because of the number of failed Hero hopefuls in their ranks (making him all the more grateful for Aizawa-sensei showing up when he did). And yet Hoshino easily smiled and said, in all seriousness too: “I’m happy being in General Studies! To be a Hero is not my calling!” 

She gently laughed it off at the time, Gekkō rolled her eyes, proceeded to put an arm atop Hoshino’s head, and that served as the end of that subject. Hoshino couldn’t explain with her focusing on trying to tell Gekkō off for using her as an armrest.

Shinsō could do nothing but stare back then because he never thought he could hear a girl squeak so much in one day like an anime character, just in time with Gekkō’s amused laughter. Now? He wondered.

Even now, on a hike that went wrong by the end of it…

“…” 

The silence and flitting gaze pointed at him alone was starting to burn. 

Hoshino wasn’t saying anything. He wasn’t even angry at her anymore; he knew it was an irrational thing in the first place. They went on a hike together, she wasn’t looking, he went too far on a detour, and then once he came back to the main trail, the others had gone on without him. 

Gekkō and Hoshino both did come back to look for him, but not before Gekkō noticed (as she always did, weirdly) and decided to leave them be. “Work it out with each other,” she said aloud at the time, giving Hoshino a warm smile before clapping Shinsō on the shoulder. “And for you, Shinsō-kun,” her voice went down to a whisper, “Tomo likes hugs.”

With that said and done, before Shinsō could even ask why she gave him that info, Gekkō waved him off and ran away. Arms behind her back and all.

Leaving the situation he was in now. 

For some reason, in spite of his combat training with Sensei and Gekkō, Hoshino was leading the hike back with a few paces ahead of him. She looked so petite, and yet skipping the occasional stream without breaking speed was something else. No wonder she was childhood friends with Gekkō. They were both nuts. The rocks underneath her hiking shoes were barely jostled once he got close to spots she had already passed, and even then, her figure seemed small on the horizon. 

The difference between Gekkō and Hoshino was how, every now and then, Hoshino turned her back to fully glance in his direction. It didn’t take a genius to know she was worried and trying to look after him. He could feel her stare into his head even when he kept his gaze downwards, trying not to meet her eyes out of frustration.

She shouldn’t have gone in the lead. Maybe say sorry or something since she left him behind to catch up, but—

A memory flew through his head. “Tomo-chan’s bad with anxiety. Plus she’s really sensitive. I know, I know you read people, Shinsō, but take it easy on my sis. She’s not good with people being angry. Or snappy.” 

Davy. Why was Davy so adamant on protecting her? What made Hoshino so different?

It took a minute of silent walking before he decided to screw it. There was a rock nearby and his throat was dry. He could wait.

So, he sat down, put in one earbud, and leaned back.

Sure enough, his other ear could pick up the sound of shoes crunching pebbles nearby. A single second was all it took for a blue hair ribbon to sit in the corner of his vision, accompanying a familiar black braid.

“Hi,” Hoshino said, uncharacteristically quiet.

Shinsō keeps his one earbud in, but nods at her. This is weirder. “Hey.” This isn’t the Hoshino he knows. In spite of his dormant anger, he tries, genuinely, like Gekkō would for him, to ask, “You okay?”

There’s a pause. “T-Trying,” she says, still quiet, and her right shoe kicks up some sand behind her. Then there’s a shaking of a bottle. Why was she— “Need a water break?”

Shinsō blinks, leaning forward to glance at her. Hoshino’s actually fidgeting. She’s not meeting his gaze, she’s not being forward, she’s just offering her own water bottle to him. Her hair’s in the way of her face, but she’s still there. “Sure, thanks,” he allows, taking the bottle from her hands and tipping the cap back for a quick waterfall. The liquid is nice and cool in his mouth, but it’s only when he’s finished that he notices the sogginess of the bottle’s label. And Hoshino was holding onto it, so— 

He hands the bottle back and it’s then that he sees Hoshino’s hands shake. 

“You’ll know when it’s not good when she starts shaking.” 

Shit. 

He takes out his earbud. “Hoshino?” he tries again. “You okay?”

Hoshino shakes her head, using the returned bottle and her long black hair to hide her face from view. But there’s no mistaking the other tells of her shaking legs and trembling hands. “A-Again, I’m trying, Shinsō-san.” Her voice cracks. “B-Because if I look at your face right now, I-I think I’m going to cry. And I don’t want to cry right now.”

Double shit. 

Even with the alarms going off in his head, Shinsō can’t let this go. This isn’t normal. This isn’t the Hoshino he first met. He can’t help but feel apprehensive because this girl can’t be real. She can’t be close to crying. She can’t. “It’s not because you’re afraid of being brainwashed, right?” 

Hoshino shakes her head violently, and it’s thanks to the lack of distance that Shinsō knows she’s being genuine. “I-It’s because I know I upset you,” she says, fiddling with the water bottle in her hands. He doesn’t miss how her fingernails scratch at the label he noticed earlier. “Because I messed up.” Her voice cracks again, louder. Shinsō can already hear the incoming tears in her reply without needing to see her face. “A-And I don’t want to cry when I know it’s my fault I left you alone. Th-There’s no excuse for it, but— but—” Hoshino cuts herself off. There’s a sniffle. 

Fuck.

She is close to crying. And he properly felt like a jackass. 

It had to be now of all times that he figured out why Gekkō was insistent on their making up; why Davy was so protective.

Hoshino reminded him of a delicate flower and he was literally the wind about to blow her over. 

Shinsō sighed. Maybe Gekkō was rubbing off on him, he didn’t know, but he at least knows that Heroes aren’t supposed to let people cry. “Hey,” he says, awkwardly, “need a hug?”

The words are like sandpaper in his throat, but Hoshino is looking up at him and her blue eyes have red rims to them. She noticed. Gekkō was right. “Wh-Wha?” 

“You look like you need one,” he elaborated in spite of his burning cheeks, turning his head away but still keeping his arms open. “The issue now is whether you want to take me up on one.”

It doesn’t even take a second for Hoshino to run over and wrap her arms around his neck. Shinsō would have to wrangle Gekkō’s hand in thanks later because for once, this is the Hoshino he got to know. The normal Hoshino never hesitated in tackling loved ones in hugs, and this Hoshino did indeed tackle him in a hug. 

It was still Hoshino.

Even without her pressed up against him, Shinsō can tell Hoshino’s been worried. She’s sweaty, she’s hot, and she’s crying. She’s actually crying into his shoulder. What was the point of being angry when she’s the one breaking down first? “I-I’m sorry…” she whimpers into his T-shirt, wet drops soaking into the fabric. From their closeness, Shinsō could make out the first sound of a sob. “I-I’m so so so sorry…! I-I should’ve come back, I know, but I didn’t know where you went, thingshappened, Ijust—” Hoshino shudders and her hands clutch the back of Shinsō’s shirt to the point of wrinkles. “I’msosorry. Youdeservebetter.”

The remaining anger burns out almost immediately and Shinsō hesitantly reaches up to pat her head. There was no point in apprehension when Hoshino already proved she wasn’t afraid of his Quirk. The sad thing was turning out to be how she was apparently afraid of him being upset. He owed Davy one now too. “It’s okay,” he says, taking a slow breath. Thank god the rock was beneath him to ground him and Hoshino. She was heavy but he couldn’t say that. “I shouldn’t have gone off like that either. I’ve… been a jerk to you.”

Hoshino sniffs, but pulls away enough to touch her nose to his. Her hair is sticking to her face and her eyes are still watery. “I never once thought of you as a jerk, Shinsō-san.” Her gaze is shaky but focused on him, and she smiles crookedly. “I deserved it with my lacking in the surveillance department.”

Shinsō scoffs in spite of his burning cheeks. Why did she have to be so close? He makes up for those thoughts with a dry remark. “Hey. You hike like a rampaging bull, y’know. Where did you get that leg strength?”

This time, Hoshino laughs. She ends up pulling away from the hug entirely and Shinsō lets her, but not without holding onto her free arm. She was already tittering on one foot, like she was about to fall. “Th-Thank Kei’s mom for that,” she says, flashing teeth in her smile. “I had to learn how to run before I could wield a sword. Hiking became a fun hobby for stress relief.”

“That’s… good?” Shinsō finds himself replying, because there’s no good answer to that. What kind of person was Gekkō’s mother? “Do I want to know?”

“Sugar coat or honest answer?” Hoshino offers instead. 

What the hell. No wonder Gekkō likes her. She’s just as annoying in choices. Shinsō rolls his eyes. “Y’know what, never mind.” He stands up from his rock seat, brushing off his cargo pants before tugging on Hoshino’s arm. “Let’s just go.”

“Eh?” Hoshino is stumbling, but she’s following him. Her arm is warm. “Where to?”

Shinsō adjusts his grip so he could be holding onto Hoshino’s fingers. They couldn’t repeat the previous incident when it made Hoshino cry. “Back to Gekkō and your dork of a brother. They’ll kill me if we come back late, and that can’t happen if we want to work on your observation skills.” 

Now Hoshino is the one blushing. “We?” 

Shinsō pauses his walk, just in time for Hoshino to bump her nose into his arm. She winces, he tugs at her hand again. “Yes, we,” he insists without looking back. It had to be said. This girl was too innocent. Too child-like. The world would eat her up like the chocolate her Quirk created in a snap. “Who else is going to look out for you when Gekkō and Davy aren’t here?”

“S-So then,” Hoshino wipes her face with her other hand, avoiding the water bottle and looking up at him with the same sparkles. Muted sparkles, but sparkles. “You’re not angry?”

Shinsō pauses, looking forward. “I… I was,” he manages dryly, but he refuses to let Hoshino run off by holding her hand tighter. “But not anymore. It’s spilled milk now, so we’ve gotta stick together on the way back. Can’t let the past repeat itself.” He turns his head to meet her eyes and he grins wryly. “Gekkō stuck us together anyways, so let’s pass the time by hiking.”

Hoshino blinks, and she smiles again. Finally, the Hoshino he knows is back. He could’ve sworn a rainbow grew behind her head with the gesture. “Okay,” she says quietly, squeezing his hand back. It’s still warm. “I’ll be right behind you.” 

“You’re not going to run off?”

Hoshino pouts, but nods her assent to the question. “I’m not leaving you again. Accident or not.” 

Shinsō smirks. “You better. Being alone sucks.”

Hoshino pauses her trotting behind him, bumps his shoulder with hers, and squeezes his hand. “I’m not gonna let you be alone now if you say that.”

For some reason, it’s a nice thought. His ears feel hot, but he can’t find it in himself to care. “Whatever you say, Hoshino. Whatever you say.”

“Aye.” Hoshino sticks behind him. At one point, when they trek up a hill, Shinsō could’ve swears he felt her lean against his back. “Thankie.” 

Maybe it was just him. It was sweltering hot out here. 

It took another hour of walking together for Shinsō to realize he was still holding her hand. It took an extra ten minutes for him to let go.

Even then, Hoshino never stopped following him until they got back to the car.

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

“Hmmmm?”

Shinsō sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “What, Davy.” 

His classmate grins from the front seat of the car. “You and Tomo made up?”

“I wasn’t even all that angry,” Shinsō points out, rolling his eyes. “But you were right. T—Hoshino’s way too sensitive.”

���And? And?” Davy’s grinning, oh god, no, “Are you going to admit she’s cute?”

This again. Ugh. “Not on your life. Cats are cuter.”

“Tch, stubborn,” Davy clicks his tongue, but lets it go. Gekkō’s helping Hoshino with something, so it’s just them in the car, but before Shinsō can plug his earbuds in, he hears Davy add teasingly, “I will hunt you down if you date my sis!”

“I’m not looking to date her. Stop that already and start the car. It’s hot.”

[gffa]

Hi! In my last ask you said you loved to talk so joke's on you, now I'm gonna flood you with questions xD There are a few things I'd like to have your thoughts on, from a nebie perspective. Here's the first one. Even when I hadnt' wathced the movies yet, I had inevitably heard a lot of negative things about the prequels. What are the reasons in your opinion? And since you are so positive about them, I would ask you to instead highlight some of their strongest points :)

Hello!  You act like I don’t mean it when I say I love to talk, but BOY DO I.  :DPrequels hate is one of those things that I think comes from a variety of places, so there are common trends, but we’re never going to be able to cover all the reasons every single person dislikes them, and I’m not even going to try.  These are going to be true for a lot of people, but there are going to be a bunch that have their own reasons that I’ve never thought much about–sometimes trash reasons, sometimes valid reasons.Mostly, it comes down to how they conduct themselves, that if someone just doesn’t like the prequels for whatever reason, but they’re perfectly kind to those who do, then their reasons are entirely valid for them and I have zero problem with them!  I have friends who aren’t really that keen on the prequels and we get along fine, because they’re sweethearts and I hope I can return even half as much civility.  (This applies to everything I like and someone else doesn’t.)That said, some of the biggest reasons people dislike the prequels, in my experience:- There’s a trend of people who really wanted Darth Vader to be a power fantasy character, to be an awesome badass, rather than a hot mess.  This tends to go hand in hand with people disliking the way Hayden Christensen played the character, because he was very attractive, because he was a whiny teenager, because he was an anxious mess, because he didn’t have this strong core identity.  I think this is part of the TCW!Anakin tends to be more popular with some people, because that Anakin does project himself better, Matt Lanter plays the character with a more polished voice and he’s more traditionally angry about stuff, instead of teary-eyed, fidgety angry that Hayden played him as.I’ve said this a bunch of times, but I think a lot of people disregard Hayden’s acting because they think Anakin is supposed to project this strong sense of self, that he should have a strong voice (literally and figuratively), that he should be clear-eyed and hold himself up well.  Instead, his voice is often thin and hesitant or arrogant and whiny, he fiddles with the hem of his sleeve, he paces back and forth, his lip wobbles when he cries.And this is a brilliant choice on Hayden’s part, imo, because ANAKIN SKYWALKER IS AN ANXIOUS HOT MESS.  That’s it, that’s who Darth Vader is.  Someone who had all this tremendous power, who believed he was more special than everyone else around him, who wanted to be more significant than everyone else, who was angry and confused and didn’t want to do the hard work of really looking at himself, that’s why all the theraputic suggestions in the galaxy weren’t helping, because he didn’t want to, that’s why his countenance on Mustafar is hard as hell to watch.  Because this isn’t someone breaking bad in an awesome way, this is a tragedy.  This is Anakin Skywalker, someone we care about, going over the edge in an ugly, uncomfortable way–and Hayden portrays that beautifully.I think a lot of people really didn’t want that, they wanted Baby Vader being some demon kid or they wanted him to be a badass who just sliced through everything with his lightsaber.  Not a young man who was so destroyed by the loss of his mother that he killed a bunch of villagers in a tearful rage and wanted to be soothed and absolved of it afterwards, instead of a HOLY SHIT THAT WAS BADASS moment, we got an awful, ugly moment in a way that we should think was awful and ugly.- George Lucas was always interested in pushing the boundaries of what was possible, which means that a lot of the stuff they were going (like the motion capture stuff, the background scenery CGI, etc.) are things that they had to create entirely new tech for, sometimes stuff that was so bleeding edge and so well done that they’re still using the same tech today.  But, because it was such new tech at the time, it doesn’t always age well.  Like, ROTS still looks really good, but even I, a staunch defender, have to admit that the TPM battle scenes are clearly very old and not nearly as integrated as they would be today.A lot of people judge the quality of the movies based on today’s standards, rather than taking them as part of the time they were from.  As well as a lot of people really like a more practical look effect and, honestly, they used THOUSANDS of practical effects and models in the prequels, they just look so much a part of the film that we often don’t notice.- I’ve heard this said before and I think it’s a good point–a lot of the problem for some people is that, for a long time, that’s all there was of Star Wars.  Right now, if you don’t like the sequels, you still have a ton of other stuff to be interested in, you can read in a whole bunch of other eras.  You can watch Rebels or watch The Clone Wars, if you don’t like Resistance, it’s not a big deal.  If you don’t like TFA and TLJ, you can just go read the Star Wars ongoing comic or the first Darth Vader series.  Right now, we can even read or listen to a bunch of prequels novels!People have calmed down a lot on the prequels, in part because those who enjoyed them as kids are growing up and getting a voice in media, and partly because those who really hated them now have other places to do.  “Eh, it’s not my thing, but it’s not the ONLY Star Wars coming out right now, so I guess it’s fine.”- When TPM first came out, there was a ton of love for it, it’s just that reviews on-line turned on it pretty quickly and started spinning stories about how it was fucking awful, and those voices grew so loud that that became the narrative.  There’s this idea that the prequels were failures or whatever, but in reality, if you look at the box office numbers (especially adjusted for inflation), they made plenty of money.  They��re all within the top 100 and, even without adjustment, TPM and ROTS made reasonably close to $1B each than anything.  And this was in a time before Marvel movies were a thing, where we’re kind of used to that happening, but it wasn’t always such a thing.- A lot of people dislike the dialogue and, hey, that’s fair, it’s not for everyone.  George Lucas himself said that he’s the kind of wooden dialogue, as well as a lot of people have noted that the movies are based on a style that’s out of step with modern audiences (George said this as well, iirc), and if you go watch a lot of stuff from the ‘30s and ‘40s, you can definitely notice a lot of parallels in the style of the prequels.It reads as stiff and awkward to a lot of people, so they think it’s bad (and that’s fair), but I think there’s a large element of that it’s a style that a lot of people just straight up don’t like.- One of the biggest problems is that the movies were made for kids, not for the people who used to be kids when the original came out and they didn’t like that the movies hadn’t grown up with them in the same way.  The hated podrace sequence and Jar Jar Binks are classic examples of this–a lot of adults haaaaaaate those things, but if you go around asking kids, suddenly a lot more of them could watch that podracing sequence ALL DAY LONG and never get bored, a lot more kids found Jar Jar genuinely funny.George Lucas has always been upfront about how the movies are intended for kids.  That’s not to say adults can’t enjoy them as well, they’re part of the audience too, but they’re very much movies that kept a younger audience in mind, and that frustrated a lot of people who had become adults themselves and wanted a more “adult” Star Wars.So, it comes down to a lot of different reasons that people don’t like the prequels, sometimes they’re fair (a difference of tastes, they’re out of step with modern audiences, the pacing isn’t always great, etc.) and sometimes they’re bullshit (wanting the movies to be something they weren’t and they’re inherently bad because Baby Vader wasn’t an awesome badass, but instead a crying hot mess with too much power).Here on tumblr, there’s a ton of love for the prequels, to the point that I forget sometimes that a lot of the rest of the world still falls into being kind of dicks about the movies.  But every so often, I’ll be listening to an entertainment podcast and they bash on the prequels or Anakin’s character, or even within fandom, someone will say that the acting was terrible or the dialogue was objectively terrible, and I remember, oh, yeah, that’s still a thing.Things are easier now, those who loved the movies are getting a voice in the media, there’s more stuff for non-fans to concentrate on instead if they don’t like them, there are more defenders now, more pockets to get lost in, but for awhile we all kind of had to be jammed together and that mean some voices were louder than others.  And that got perpetuated a lot so that’s what you heard.  “The prequels are bad.” was said over and over and over, until that became the only narrative that a lot of people heard.Whew, okay, that was long and there’s going to be plenty of other reasons that aren’t touched on, this isn’t meant to say non-fans are a monolith in their reasons why they don’t like them, etc.  But those are the major reasons I usually see.  But what do I love about the prequels?I love that the characters really spoke to me in a way I never expected.  I’ve dealt my whole life with anxiety, depression, and a difficult time really looking at myself and facing my inner demons.  I relate to Anakin Skywalker in so many ways, and even when I call him a garbage bag, it’s done with such affection because, I have been there, my guy.  I’ve struggled to really learn to let go of things, to make peace with a lot of the shit in my head, so when the Jedi came along and actually had some really good advice about calming your tits before you hurt someone, that you had to have internal self-discipline to overcome a lot of the shit inside you, that spoke to me as well.  I strive to be a better person, to let go of the anger that consumed me and cost me years of my life and friendships.  I fell in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi, who is pretty much the best person in that entire galaxy, that he doesn’t have to be perfect to be wholly good.  And also he’s hilarious.  I fell in love with Padme, a woman who accomplished such great things in the galaxy, who could move metaphorical mountains, while still being internally fragile in a lot of ways, that her heart broke so badly, she just couldn’t keep living.  I’ve been there, too.I am IN LOVE with the worldbuilding of the prequels–the worlds of the prequels are, honestly, the best of all the eras.  Coruscant is incredible, it’s easily my favorite planet.  But Naboo is gorgeous.  Getting to see a little of Alderaan is incredible.  Mustafar was INCREDIBLE to see.  Geonosis and Kashyyyk are incredibly cool to look at!  I kind of want to legit take a walk on Felucia and see all the flora.  Kamino and Utapau look amazing, too.  Umbara and Dathomir and Malastare and Mandalore and Christopsis and Cato Nemoidia and Mon Calamari all look amazing when we get to see them, too.And I’m in love with the more fleshed out politics of the era because it feels like they actually have impact and weight there.  Politics has always been part of Star Wars, but we really don’t see it that much in the Rebellion era and not even that much in the Resistance/First Order era.  We may get more of it as the New Republic is explored more (like we do in the Aftermath books) and I’ll be fascinated then, but the prequels went hard on politics and, yeah, a lot of people disliked them, but I think looking around at our current day setting kind of proves just HOW INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT POLITICS ARE.If nothing else, I love the prequels just for the Jedi Temple and Jedi Aesthetics, give me ALL THE WARM SUNLIGHT CORRIDORS, the sheer sense of peace and harmony radiating off that place, all the incredible art and design touches in pretty much everything, the ceremonial dance combat we see the younglings do in TCW, the giant open hallways and verandas, the star map that shimmers into view, the robes that actually look super soft, the gardens that are probably everywhere in that place, GOD, I JUST WANT TO GO THERE, LET ME IN, LET ME IIIIIIIIIINNNNNN.I love the prequels unreservedly because it was the point where I felt like the galaxy was really a genuinely huge galaxy, it’s the place I get the best sense of scale of how massive everything really is, and it’s the part where I love the pieces and the characters the most.  I think the potential–and sometimes even the realization of that potential on-screen–is the most and it’s the place where I want to play with the world and the characters the most, it’s full of hilarity and seriousness, tragedy and hope, good people making their way through a shitty universe, but still trying to help as many people as they can, and my favorite dumpster fire of a character that I could spend all day analyzing and digging into the reasons why he chooses to do things and never get tired of ANY OF IT.Honestly, this is not necessarily a great list of Why The Prequels Are Great, mostly because *waves hand at the general mess that is my blog* pretty much this whole thing here is my ongoing attempt to put it into words and pictures why love this corner of the GFFA so much.

[not-a-statement]

The last time I forget you

This is kind of therapy for me.

A sequel to Forgotten art of letting go

I know I’m bad at writing dialogues and this all is dumb, forgive me, but I wanted to do this.

Also the title and the last Dipper’s line together make a piece of a lyrics. Let’s see if you’ll recognize the song:)

“If you hit it with your baton I’ll slap you…” Craig hissed.

Eric snickered covering his mouth with the fist. Dipper’s hand hovered.

“Wait, what else I’m supposed to do? The damn thing is inside. It’s gonna give away our presence.”

“So what good your baton’s gonna make? Apart from making it screech.”

“No wonder you are a damn idiot, Dipper.” Eric kept losing it.

“It’s Brian, remember?”

“Yeah, Brian with an i so it looks like brain. Just admit it.”

Craig gave Dipper an intense glare.

“You gonna go for it?”

Dipper’s knuckles turned white. His weapon clutched in his fist, one action dividing him from a smart step or a total failure. At that moment no borders existed, no distinctions mattered, only thing present which dimmed Dipper’s eyes was anticipation of that little dinosaur’s pain. Its agony, its frustrated screams. He only needed to open his fist.

But he couldn’t.

“You gonna roll or what?”

Dipper lowered his hand letting of D6.

“Ah, screw you. I’m not gonna do anything.”

Craig gave him a questioning glance.

“I know you have only 5 for intelligence but even for you that’s odd. I mean props on taking PC that serious, but have you considered wringing its neck?”

“Hey, Dip, no offence on calling you a dumbass, bro. I didn’t mean that” Eric raised his both hands as if defending himself.

“Yeah, whatever” Dipper reached out for bowl of chips “Let’s just move on”

Craig stayed motionless, his eyes scanning Dipper like he was a walking X-ray machine. Eric was just fiddling with his papers looking at the tabletop.

“What?”

“Are you okay, Dip?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Cause you look like something’s bothering you.”

“No I’m not.”

“Actually” Eric said “you are. Kind of been looking like that for more than a month”

An uncomfortable silence crashed in, covering three friends in Craig’s living room. Only one of them knew what kind of waters this topic was about to approach, but it seemed like everybody was aware. After about half a minute Craig raised from his chair and left for kitchen.

“Dude, is there a girl?” It wasn’t like Dipper wasn’t expecting that kind of question but there was something in how Eric said that. In a way like he could look inside his soul. Some sympathy, understanding actually. And that sent a shiver down his spine.

“Yeah...” Dipper exhaled “there is a girl”

The sound of someone digging through fridge’s insides reached the living room accompanied with a clicking sound of glass bottles.

“Hey, Dip-brochete. You know there’s like loads of girls out there, right?” Eric reached out to place his hand on Dipper’s shoulder “and I freaking bet all my savings that at least a half of them would love to spend even a brief moment with you, man. So you know what you should think?”

“Probably she’s dating someone, isn’t she?” Craig reentered the room holding three bottles of beer in his hands. “Wouldn’t be that bothering the other way, huh”

“Aye, that’s exactly my point, bruh!” Eric absentmindedly took a bottle from Craig “If she’s with some other douchebag out there, what good it says about her?“

“Go on”

“Your face will go on” Eric took a swig “How worthy of being adored she could possibly be if she’s neglecting Dip? Like for real - look at you, bro! Top of most classes, book lover, facial hair grower - you are a full package if I do say so myself. Plus I heard girls can be easily attached to brainiacs.”

“Have you ever been with a lady, Eric?�� half asked half teased Craig “It’s not like they have checklists for every boy they meet. They are more of feelers rather than estimators”

“Well that’s just dumb. If a girl just appeals to how heart beats or to how many butterflies come to life in your stomach in a presence of a boy she can’t be trusted”

“Hoookay...good luck with your date for upcoming Prom, mate” Craig chuckled “Anyway, who exactly are we talking about, Dipper? If you don’t mind”

“Oh...um” Dipper could feel the first bead of sweat forming at the nape of his neck “She...she’s not from around, she...I mean we...we’ve met in the park the other day actually, so I...doubt you guys are likely to know her...so...yeah”

“Oh, I see. So, that makes it easier I reckon” Craig placed his bottled aside and laid his arms on the table intertwining his fingers “I mean somewhat distance can play good to you. Would be much more severely if you had to face her every day”

“Yeah, tell me about it..” cold and fuzzy bread brewed liquid was alien to Dipper’s throat yet it felt just right. “Add in seeing that blonde tall fucker around her...”

“Wow, that’s harsh. Some dark feelings detected given the F word, mate” Eric eyes started dimming and filling with more sympathy. “Had a chance to see them together?”

“No...no, I mean...how could I, right?” Dipper started backtracking “It’s not like we’re seeing each other often”

“But what’s about that “You tell me” thing?” Craig started to look bewildered.

“That...um...like c’mon, man...have you heard about instagram? It’s like pretty huge”

“Ah, so there’s a pictures of her and her boyfriend you stumbled upon?”

“Yeah, that’s it...totally” Dipper downed his beverage hoping that its coolness would somehow low the temperature within his cheeks.

“And you keep looking them up?”

“I bet he doesn’t” Eric said “How dumb would it be?”

“So you don’t, Dip?” Craig gave Dipper an incredulous look.

“Well, I...” he started looking up for an excuse but failed instantly. “I...I do...”

Both Craig and Eric threw their heads back and groaned.

“What? What’s so wrong about it?”

“What’s so wrong?” Craig asked back “Dipper, that’s like a self torture”

“Yeah, Craig’s right, man. How can you ever gonna get over her if you keep sticking around? Even virtually.”

“Oh, c’mon, that’s not too bad. I’m not like constantly around her, am I” apparently excuses of any kind were not working for Dipper “Besides, if I couldn’t succeed at least I can...you know, analyze”

“Analyze what? Reasons why she’s with him and not with you?”

“Why not? There’s gotta be something”

“Remember what I said, Dip?” Craig asked “Feelers, rather than estimators”

“Oh, do you personally believe in that, Craig?”

“Um. I do”

“But there’s a cause for every feeling, right? I mean what’s so special about that arrogant always preoccupied dumbass? As if I couldn’t get into an argument with the teacher about some History junk. Or like is playing tuba more lame than playing the guitar? Or...or...”

“Dipper, would you knock it off already?” Craig raised both his hands “Look. There’s nothing wrong about you or special about him. It’s just feelings. You can’t predict them or control...well, if you’re not a manipulating asshole which you’re not but...it just happens you know? Chemistry - that’s all.”

Dipper let out a defeated exhale. Of course Craig had a point. Just like a something came to life between him and Mabel once it happened again. It didn’t manage to smother any of his aching though but it wasn’t meant to either. So once again it was Dipper’s job to make himself somewhat resistant to what he felt around her and that jackass. And there’s no point in comparing him and...

“Wait a second...” Eric frowned thoughtfully rubbing his chin “The guitar, the History class banter...I think I know...Pete Weinberg?”

A quick thought consisting only one word “Shit!” flew through Dipper’s mind. He could feel his heart beating rapidly and palms growing sweatier than they could ever be. He wasn’t supposed to reveal so many details to slip up at this point. Honestly he shouldn’t be getting into this conversation in the first place. He must’ve shaken it off immediately when Eric asked first question. He could just pretend that it was upcoming graduation from school or how frustrated he was feeling when it came to picking up the college because he had to make sure that he didn’t end up choosing the same city with a certain person because she was making him feel...Oh, he we go again, shit!  

He was dragged out of his panicked thoughts only by the sound of Eric snickering. 

“Oh, sorry, dude” Eric managed to say between the laughing waves. “My bad, my bad. That’s too dumb of me. I mean, that Pete guy, he’s definitely dating your sister, I must’ve messed up! Sorry, no insult intended”

Oh, Eric, bless your soul Dipper thought. He couldn’t believe that he was given such an easy escape at that moment.

“Yeah, bro, what was you thinking about” he awkwardly laughed too loudly. “I thought I had the lowest intelligence here! Speaking of - shall we continue our journey through the park full of pre-historic giant reptilian creatures?”

“Oh yeah, baby! I’m down! Sorry once again, bruh”

“Not to worry, dude, not to worry”

Dipper and Eric took their now empty bottles from the table and started shuffling through papers while Craig remained motionless looking at Dipper with a concerned expression on his face.

                                                          * * *

“So next Sunday, gentlemen” Eric cheerfully proclaimed standing at the doorstep of Craig’s house “Next time the map’s on me.You’ll gonna love it”

“Just don’t mess up your binder and your sister one next time, would you?” Dipper laughed “I hope she now can spell the word “doggie” correct”

“You make it sound kinky man, gah! She’s six!”

“Your face is kinky”

“Okay, that one’s for you” Dipper and Eric exchanged a handshake still laughing “Right, I’m off. See you tomorrow, lads”

“Bye, Eric” said Craig and Dipper in unison.

As soon as Eric took his direction of a sidewalk and Dipper just put his jacket on was about to say goodbye to Craig the last started speaking:

“Hey, Dip”

“Yeah?”

“Um...about earlier. I couldn’t help noticing you acting a bit...weird when Eric mentioned Weinberg so...”

Dipper froze in spot where he was standing, his pupils going wider.

“I mean...Dipper, I am your friend, you know that?”

With a nervous gulp the only reaction Dipper could make was to nod slightly.

“So...I just wanted you to know that if you want to talk to anybody...you can tell me anything. If that helps”

Dipper couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Craig was actually offering him to vent out his frustration and really seriously talk about his messed up feelings for his sibling. Oh, for how long he wished to have such an option. To lay down all his cards and get a third party’s opinion for him to find a way but...

On the second thought a secret for two should stay as it is and not become a secret for three.

“Yeah” he exhaled “I wish I could...”

With that said he shook his friend’s arm and stepped out to begin his walk home.

[misssophiachase]

Gifs above from the brilliant Moni @joey-prue  not mine! 

Truth or Dare

How good was our Klaroline road trip? So, just before the recent episode I was asked what my hopes and dreams were and responded HERE. I can’t help but think what could have been based on the awesome episode and also my road trip ideas so I just had to write it. Hope you like it : ) 

Dialogue from the episode interspersed, but most is mine. Points of view will alternate. I might just be prepared for part 2 if interested (my preview post will let you know what may or may not be coming)...

 Somewhere near mile marker 79, outskirts of New Orleans, LA

“Must you play with the radio, Mikaelson?” She asks banging her hand on the steering wheel, her frustrated tone not lost on Klaus. The Original hybrid thinks he’s minding his own business but obviously he’s found some way to annoy his travelling companion. 

It feels like old times and for some reason he’s content, even as everything unfolds with his truant daughter. 

When Caroline came to him earlier, Klaus had initially been buoyed. After all, this was the second time they’d met in as many weeks; first in France and now his beloved hometown of New Orleans. The same place he promised to show her one day. Klaus didn’t think it was possible to be so in love with her still but he was, the fact she smelled and looked so heavenly was only toying further with his fragile emotions. If only the circumstances of their reunion had been different he might have kept his promise.  

“I see you have the headmistress act down, love,” he replies, lazily. For someone who’s in an extremely bad mood, Caroline can’t miss the slight tugging at the corners of his crimson lips. Ass. One for touching her stuff and two for drawing her attention to that mouth she still remembers so well.  

Showing up in New Orleans had been a difficult decision, she was caught between being the responsible principal of his daughter’s school and revisiting her very present feelings. Being close to him again was a challenge to say the least. France had been difficult enough and now here she was again tempting fate and trying not to imagine him naked wearing only a dimpled smile. 

She chooses not to respond, only prompting Klaus to elaborate on his many issues.  “Look, if the music was a little better, I might be tempted not to touch,” he hisses, pressing all the buttons at once and giving it an extra hit for good measure.  

“Sorry I don’t have any of your one thousand year-old favourites on my playlist,” she mutters, sarcastically.  “I swear if you break it, you bought it,” she snaps, clearly feeling somewhat out of control having to drive while he fiddles with god knows what, he always did love that control-freak side to her, amongst others.  

“You realise that even if I do break the radio, with your substantial vampire capabilities you can easily acquire another?” 

“That’s not the point,” she murmurs.  

Like that night you asked for a prom dress, he thinks, but doesn’t verbalise. 

Klaus is struggling with the myriad of memories racing through his mind, she always has that effect on him, again amongst others. 

“Seriously, you’re worse than my students who think it’s okay to get through life purely on supernatural powers alone.”

“Well, I can’t completely disagree…” 

“Of course you can’t but I suppose after being on this earth for a bajillion years you don’t know any better.” Again the memories race back.

Like the supposed fifty bajillion messages he left on her phone after mistakenly being staked by Silas. 

“I realise there’s an age difference, love, but no need to rub my nose in it,” he quips. 

“You started it, grouchy,” she replies childishly, but he can’t miss the sly smile she flashes in the rear view mirror. 

“Apologies for my impatience, I’m just plotting how I’ll kill this boy when I find him. Skinning seems to be the preferred option before ripping out his heart.” 

“What did we discuss about those unhealthy thoughts?” 

“Not to have or entertain them, but have you met me, sweetheart? We all know that was wishful thinking on your part,” he chuckles. “Or I could throw on some petrol and set him alight before a nice stake to the heart?” 

“You are having way too much fun at my expense, although I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” She grins surprisingly. “Maybe you just need something to take your mind off those death wishes?”

“I’m listening…” And he actually is, in fact his mind is going a million miles a minute wondering just what she is going to suggest. Klaus can definitely suggest a few tactics to keep them both occupied.

“I think we should play a game,” she suggests, turning to glance at him briefly before returning her concentration on the road ahead.  

“I’m listening…” if he had a heartbeat, Klaus knew his heart would be racing right now. What could she possibly have in mind?  

“Oh, so now you decide to be quiet and stop ruining my stuff,” she scoffs. “How about Eye Spy? I was the Eye Spy champion three years running in primary school.” Klaus isn’t surprised given her competitive nature, another thing he finds eternally endearing about the bubbly blonde. 

“I don’t doubt that,” he shares, a knowing smile escaping his lips. “But I have a feeling it’s not going to quite cut it in terms of keeping my mind fully occupied.”

“Trust me, you will,” she offers. “You go first.” Klaus sighs knowing she means well in all of her Caroline Forbes perkiness but he’s disappointed this is her first choice. He gives her another look and the raise of her eyebrows tells Klaus she’s back in headmistress mode. 

“I spy…” he falters. 

“With my little eye…” he gives her a look which plainly says he’s not one of her younger students she needs to prompt. 

“Are you going to let me finish?”

“Call it the competitive, teacher in me.”

“You don’t say,” he growls. “Fine, I spy with my little eye something beginning with R.”

“Really Klaus? You couldn’t have thought of anything more original than road?”

“How do you know it isn’t road but some brilliant idea you’re never going to guess?”

“Because I was the eye spy champion 3 years…”

“In a row, I got that, Caroline,” he shoots back, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. “Of course I can come up with something else but I would rather name all the ways I can kill that boy starting with the letter R if I’m being truly honest.”

“Fine, what will get your mind off maiming your daughter’s boyfriend then?” 

“Certainly not calling him that,” Klaus replies, emitting a low wolf like growl and Caroline knows she’s gone too far. 

“What can I say, old habits die hard, spoil sport,” she mutters. “What do you want to play?” 

He stills for a moment and suddenly she’s feeling self conscious about how he’s interpreting her rather loaded question given their past. Damn him for being so gorgeous in that henley and making her want to do things she’s only dreamt about.

Klaus is finding it difficult to breathe, mainly because his arousal is growing steadily and threatening to escape his jeans and give his intentions away.  What does she expect saying something so suggestive and looking so delectable? 

He’s long dreamt of games they could play together, even a car scenario wasn’t completely out of the realms of possibility in his mind. 

“Fine,” he coughs, attempting to regain some control of the situation. “Truth or dare.”

“You cannot be serious,” she drawls by way of response.

“I’m deathly serious love, what do you have to hide?”

“Next you’ll suggest spin the bottle,” she scoffs, avoiding the question, a healthy blush crossing her face yet again and doing nothing to contain his budding excitement. 

“That was my first choice but unfortunately no bottle,” he teases, sending her a wolfish grin from the passenger seat.  

“I have nothing to hide,” she murmurs. “You’re going to wish you never challenged me Mikaelson, I win everything I play.”

Caroline wasn’t so confident; in fact she was terrified. Terrified of the fact that Klaus would see right through her and the feelings she’d kept so carefully hidden for years. But now they were alone, emotions threatening to be laid bare and she wasn’t quite sure how she was going to talk her way out of this.

“I suppose we’ll have to wait and see,” he boasts. 

Klaus knows from their past, he was the one who was always honest, always wore his heart on his sleeve. It was Caroline who continuously hid their burgeoning attraction and if anyone had anything to lose, it was her. 

“Do you regret the time we spent together?  

“Seriously?” She stalls, her blue eyes widening. “Okay, if it'll take your mind off of wanting to murder an innocent teenage boy, then no, I don't regret our time together.” 

Klaus is fairly certain he feels his heart torn from his chest given the loud interruption but the steering wheel is moving erratically and he knows it’s something more mechanical. 

If the universe was listening to their conversation, Klaus was fairly certain it had a plan and he wasn’t altogether upset about the interruption.