#let glimmer say f*ck

[rem-adore]

CANON. CONFIRMED.

[thejolteonmastertj]

Ranking Of Kings is amazing and there’s a million things I want to say about it..

but I wanna start with this heckin scene.

That scene.

WHY,

But like,

in a good way.

You see, we don’t actually know much about Diada’s feelings toward his brother, well, aside from, y’know, the fact that he’s willing to harm and even kill him if doing so is necessary for his ambitions. Eheh.

That sounds straightforward, but the other characters, even other characters who’ve done great harm to Bojji, Domas tried to legit kill him, have become complex enough to indicate we don’t have the full story on Daida either.

Daida has technically said exactly two lines directly toward his brother, “I won’t go easy brother,” & in frustration he shouted out “this isn’t fair brother!” when Bojji kept dodging his attacks.

He has also said exactly two lines betraying any semblence of feelings toward his brother, good or bad (discounting thoughts of what to do about him as a potential threat, which are oddly impersonal for your typical fictional character with family issues)

Once was to Queen Hailing, it’s easy to dismiss his “but I think that would make my brother miserable,” as manipulating the queen into putting Bojji into a vulnerable position. It probably indeed had that ultereor motive.

Then there’s that scene. His outburst towards Domas made NO SENSE, but like, in a good way. Like You’ve Just opened up a puzzle box.

The fact that pretty much every main character close to Bojji has gotten their big flashback development scene except Daida is the most obvious clue that the show’s holding out on something.

Re-watching early episodes helps you fully realize how much ambiguity there is about Daida and Bojji’s relationship.

So, let’s take those cues and overanalyze the f*ck outta this scene.

Ok, so first of all, it’s hella smart for Daida to identify Domas’s decision as a red flag. He’s rightly upset about that on a personal level and strategic level because as King he now has to work with someone he views as untrustworthy.

Yet, anger, pure unadulterated rage was not expeced. The sheer intensity in Daida’s emotions raises a big question. Why?

He threw a f*cking vase at Domas for crying out loud.

The thing is I can’t come up with a reasonable tactical reason for Daida to say any of this to Domas. If he was yelling at him in hopes it would frighten him into obeying his order to kill Bojji, the angle he took could’ve easily backfired. So there’s definitely an alternative reading when combined with knowledge from episodes 5-6.

We got two, very brief, contextless flashbacks. Depicting Bojji either crying or slacking off while Daida was working hard. We also see a dream sequence where a younger looking Daida is terrified, watching his “last glimmer of hope” aka older brother lose a fight.

He wakes up from the dream and immediately demands the mirror to help him become more powerful, all but outright saying he’s terrified of the fact that his weak brother is all he can count on, he’s desperate to become stronger to protect himself.

Combined with the brief flashback to what must be one of Bojji’s few moments of slacking,

really makes you wonder how much Daida’s “ambition” is really just a slightly aged manifestation of lifelong fear.

Perhaps he’s held onto some bitterness in his heart, on how quickly he (feels) he’s been forced into a position of power. The fact that the adults around him are so ready to push him onto the throne that they’d stoop to betrayal struck an old wound.

Emphasis on the old wound part, because he acts like he’s fully accepted his supposed destiny as king. There’s a chance this old wound may be opened again given his desire to “believe in my own potential,” being violently denied by the mirror that’s manipulating him.

On the topic of old wounds and conflicting feelings... there’s also this thing his teacher said. 🤔

Anyways, that’s one reading. It’s also possible that he simply ‘cares about his brother secretly uwu’ & that’s why the betrayal struck a nerve, but that’d be boring. 😂

It’s possible he was just manipulating Domas too, though that’d be boring for different reasons. 🤣

Welp, we’ll see how the nuances turn out.

In general Daida’s already starting to remind me of Azula from Avatar The Last Airbender.

Yet while ATLA waited until the very end to make her complexity known, Ranking Of Kings is making its buildup more clear, & starting way earlier... that has me hyped asf.

I LOVED the concept of Azula’s predicament, and loved her as a character, but was always disappointed in the lack of reasonably apparent emotional nuance and of/c how her tragedy was kind of tacked onto the ending of ATLA.

Daida & Bojji struggling to survive being put into positions of power in what seems to be a brutal world far too young (even Daida admits like ‘yo, mirror, I’m still young, chill’ obv not in those words but) is an overarching conflict I’m loving so far & hyped to see more of.

Oh yeah, full disclaimer, this promo art an artist on the show posted relating to the next episode motivated me to actually write down & post my thoughts. XD Them, happy brothers? At some point in time at least? I knew it.

[nctsworld]

spin me right ‘round

✩‌ johnny ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ record store owner!johnny | fluff | smut | 4k‌ ‌

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ buying from the local records shop leads you to eventually bed the hot owner on the night of your first date.   WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌smut (in the second half), oral s*x (f and m receiving), f*ngering, johnny has a big d*ck and f*cks you hard???, office s*x in the epilogue (kind of) RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ @sehunniepot​ (thought you might be interested in this nikki 👀) 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit! 

Opening the store’s door, the ringing of the bell above you signals your entrance. 

You moved into the neighbourhood recently and since someone gifted you a record player for your last birthday, you thought it’d be a quaint idea to drop by the local records shop that you always pass by on your way home.  

Rows and rows of vinyl records, organized both alphabetically and by genre, welcome you with open arms, along with a faint musty smell, likely due to the faded, vintage records hanging between the posters on the cream walls. 

The outside of the store is misleading to its size; there’s enough space here for at least thirty people easily. However, besides you, it looks like there’s only one other customer in the shop.  

Although your surroundings captivate your senses, the striking blond man bent over the rock section in the middle of the shop is the true cynosure of your eyes. 

His long fingers flutter seamlessly over the records, seeming to be on a dedicated search to find one in particular. He towers high over the low stacks and oozes coolness with a thumb stuffed in his front pocket and donning a stylish green beanie atop his medium cut locks. 

Not to mention that his jeans tug perfectly over the curvature of his prominent ass, but you merely steal a glance or two at his backside as you stroll towards the pop section. 

Okay, maybe three glances.

With your back facing the man, several minutes pass as you rummage through the sea of mainstream music, ranging from recent to old, but all the while pleasing to your tastes.  

“See anything you like?” 

Your eyes meet the figure standing nearby with a hand on the edge of one of the stack dividers. His smooth voice matches his strong aura and his gorgeous face, which you’re now blessed to be viewing up-close. 

Your gaze pursues downward, soaking up his sturdy frame hidden behind his flattering clothes. Darting your eyes up his lengthy body back to his face, you lick your lips and swallow, in hopes to dampen the sudden dryness in your throat, and naturally raise the corners of your mouth.        

“Yeah—” You, you think in the back of your head and execute a nod, “—there are a few things.” 

He smiles endearingly towards the floor before glancing back up to you. You wonder if he can read your thoughts, or maybe it’s simply written all over your face.

Releasing his grip, he says, “Take all the time you need. If you need any assistance, let me know." 

Your eyebrows perk up in realization. “Do you work here?”

“Yeah.” Bobbing his head, he runs a hand over his beanie. “I’m the owner of the store.”

“Oh, wow,” you exclaim, jaw hanging slightly. “You’re so young, I wouldn’t think someone in their 20s would have their own store, especially one like this." 

A frown falls over his face, and in that moment, you knew you fucked up any chance you had with him.  

“Yeah, 26 to be exact,” he shrugs, tight-lipped, prior to the folding of his arms. His eyes become slits of bitterness. “Thanks for the ageism."

Immediately shaking your head at the misunderstanding, you stammer, “I didn't mean it like that—"

The owner’s expression melts in an instant and a warmness emanates from him once more. The knot in your chest loosens at the sight and relief waves over.  

“I'm just playing with you, don’t worry." 

He opens his mouth, about to continue, but his attention is interrupted by the ringing at the door, and you turn to see another customer over your shoulder. The attractive individual begins to stroll over, but still faces your direction, beaming. 

“Well, if you decide to get anything, you know where to find me, and I'll ring it up for you." 

With puffed cheeks, you nod and watch him greet the incoming patron. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind you, you shift toward the records again and browse for a little longer. 

Finally deciding on a few choices, you walk toward the front register and peer over at the beanied blond. In the classical section, he’s listening intently to the bumbling customer. Not wanting to disturb them, you lay the vinyls on the counter and thankfully find a pen and a stack of sticky notes upon it. 

After sticking the following note on the top vinyl cover, you head out of the store:

“Put these on hold for me?  I'll be back for them.  Thanks!  -Miss Ageist” 

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Judgmental."

A couple of days later, you drop by the store again and find the spirited owner at the front counter. Today, he’s channeling his inner grunge style, adorning a half-up, half-down ponytail and a loose white t-shirt over a tight, long black sleeve shirt. Is it possible for him to look even cuter than he did last time? 

“Sorry again for that,” you scrunch your nose at the memory. He grabs your records from beneath the counter and rings them through. “You just look so young to own a store.”

The blond airily laughs, “I'm gonna take that as a compliment." 

He spots you twisting your mouth to one side and nodding shyly. “It is." 

As you pay for the items, he gestures to your vinyls on the counter. “Good choices, by the way.”

“Are there bad ones?” From the pay pad, you glance up at him and he’s feigning a hurt look. 

“Oh, most definitely.” 

You banter with a tilt of your head, “Isn't music subjective though?” 

“Not to me. I am the king of music taste." 

Both parties exchange laughter while you wait for the transaction to process. Once it finishes, he rips the receipt and places it into the bag with the records. 

“I mean, I do own a records store, so I think I should know." 

Flashing you his pearly whites, he hands the filled bag over to you. 

“Here you go, Miss Judgy Pants.” 

“Actually, you can call me—” You properly introduce yourself.

He leans back a little, straightening himself and tucking his thumbs into his pockets. 

“I'm John, but you can call me Johnny." 

With a glimmer in your eye, you question, “Is Johnny exclusive to me, or does everyone else also call you Johnny?”

His eyebrows raise, impressed by your straightforwardness. “I only let the pretty girls call me Johnny, if that’s what you’re asking.”  

The wink he gives is short-lived, but it’s enough to cause heat to blossom over your cheeks. You brush some hair behind your ear. 

“So, Johnny,” you enunciate, indulging in his name. “When does the store close?” 

You lift up your bag and cheekily add, “Gotta know when to break in to steal more vinyls." 

Johnny chuckles, and your heart bursts knowing you’re the reason behind it. Looking aside, his hand rubs the counter casually and you can’t help but stare at his large palm dominating the surface, along with his elongated fingers. Eyes blinking rapidly, you attempt to break the fantasy assembling in your brain—his hands are the guest stars alongside (and within) your body in the leading role. 

“I can close whenever I want to, but thanks for the heads up; I'll make sure to keep you away from the store,” he jokes.  

Catching your gaze, one of the sides of his mouth lifts. “Why do you ask?” 

Shrugging nonchalantly as you play with the handles of your dangling plastic bag, you reply, “Just wanted to know when the cute worker got off so I can potentially go on a date with him.” 

You scan around as if someone else is there in the empty store besides the two of you and point your thumb to one side, whispering teasingly, “Not you, but the other guy.” 

His tongue grazes against his bottom teeth, nodding understandingly with a deeper smirk. “The store closes at nine usually, but I can make an exception for him to get off earlier." 

Satisfied with Johnny’s answer, you bounce your head and make your way backwards toward the door.

“Sounds good, I'll be here at eight for him tomorrow night. Maybe I'll see you around then, too.” 

Granting him a wink of your own, you turn on your heels and leave. Intrigued, Johnny watches you disappear down the street through the store window. 

At 7:58 the next evening, you show up to the store. 

A customer is at the front counter finishing a purchase. As they pay for the products, the worker takes notice of you, smiling in recognition. You return the same, beaming back at him, and casually stride over to a random section to wait until they’re done. They make some small talk, so you delve in the opportunity to admire Johnny’s outfit for tonight—a tight black t-shirt that showcases his blatant pecs and a loose red plaid shirt overtop of it. 

When the customer exits, you make your way over to him as he puts on a light jacket. You lean your elbows onto the counter. 

“Surprised to see you here.” 

“Likewise," he jests back, snaking out of the counter to be in front of you. You glance at him, consuming the tall drink of water.   

Nodding to the door, you ask, “Ready to blow this popsicle stand?” 

Johnny hums affirmatively and you follow behind him outside as he flips the open sign and locks up the store.

“So, where we heading off to?” 

Informing him of what you had in mind, the two of you decide to take his car to the downtown pier. Once there, both of you grab take-out and eat together at a bench table under the clear sky and dazzling stars. Conversation comes easy, making the night fly by fast. 

While talking with him, since his hair flows freely today, he sometimes shyly brushes some of it behind his ear. Although you’re listening intently, you also ponder how it’d be if you ran your fingers through his soft, silky locks. 

Dinner eases into dessert, with the two of you having ice cream side by side on the pier railing, looking out towards the twinkling water. By the time you’re halfway finished with your cone, you hint at not wanting to end the night just yet. Agreeing with your sentiments, Johnny makes the suggestion of going back to the store. 

After finishing the ice cream, you head together back to his car. The back of your hand brushes up against his. Taking a chance, you curl the tips of your fingers around his, half-holding his hand.  

Pressing up against his arm, you whisper, “Thought you said you gotta keep me away from the store."  

He peers down at the partial hand holding and the grin he gives you reaches his eyes. He gives your hand a small squeeze, ensuring the burgeoning attraction is mutual. 

He whispers in reply, “At least this way I can keep an eye on you." 

At the shop, Johnny locks the door from inside, in case of any wandering bodies, and blasts some upbeat, electronic music onto the store speakers. Intercepting your hand, he guides you to the back corner of the store and starts to dance with you. 

At first, your bodies are separate vessels, grooving to the beat of the music, but as the songs play on, you gradually gravitate towards each other. Soon enough, one hand settles comfortably upon your waist, the other on your hip, while yours are hooked around the nape of his neck. Before you know it, you merge together as one with parted lips, finally satisfying the tension in the air and within your bodies.       

The kissing is intense, electrically charged and sending currents to the tips of your fingers. Although you’re barely acquainted, you two kiss like you’ve been deprived of each other your whole life—every kiss and every touch quenching your thirst for one another.  

Wanting to change it up, you step over to an empty counter and hop onto it. Johnny steps in the space between your legs and his lips meet yours again. You cup his face, clutching onto his strong features, and occasionally run a hand through his hair to caress his head. 

You answer inwardly to your previous thoughts, confirming the silky texture of his hair, and your touch relishes in his golden locks.  

Suddenly, his mouth channels hunger onto your neck and the electric currents divert directly to your rising arousal. At the sensation, you rashly grind your hips into Johnny’s body, and he groans heavily in the crook of your neck.  

He mumbles into your skin, “Do you wanna take this further? My place is nearby." 

Sighing further into his embrace, you half-jokingly reply, “You know, I was really looking forward to getting fucked in a records store." 

He easily breathes, “We can do that next time, I promise." 

You snicker. “Aren’t you a little presumptuous?” 

Tugging his shirt by the neckline, you force him to leave your neck and to greet your mouth instead. Pressing the top of your forehead against his, you match his gaze.   

“And what if I don't like you after tonight?”  

Something in you already knows that won’t be true, but you mischievously ask regardless. 

The simper Johnny flickers is enough to send another wave of bolts downward to your core. 

He peels his head away to bring it beside your ear. His thumb on your thigh may be gently rubbing you, but his following assurance is hoarse, absolutely drenched in pure lust.  

“Oh, you're definitely going to like me after all the things I do to you tonight." 

You barely have an opportunity to scan around his bachelor pad because his lips capture yours upon arrival. In his entryway, Johnny entangles with you, pushing you up against the wall. Impatiently, he drags you to his bedroom for the long-awaited spectacle of the night. 

After hurrying to turn on his bedside lamp, Johnny presses his weight against yours on his bed, embracing the full body contact. His lips continue to attack the terrain of your skin as he denudes you. You hum softly as he pursues south to your aching desire. Hoisting your backside and with his assistance, you’re finally completely bare. 

Sitting up at the edge of the bed, Johnny pulls his top layers off, revealing a sculpted physique, the kind that artists muse and obsess over. You knew he was fit from how his clothes constantly hugged his body, but this was just insane. 

“Holy fuck,” you murmur, staring blankly. 

Chuckling, he does the same bashful gesture from dinner—tucking some of his hair behind his ear. The gentleness is a contrast that nicely compliments his Adonis qualities. His soft side is flipped onto its backside in a second as he begins to creep his way over between your legs, his eyes darkening. 

Upon resting on his chest, you didn’t notice it before, but there’s a hair tie on his wrist, which he uses to effortlessly make himself a quick ponytail. 

With anticipation, you sigh into the kisses he leaves on your inner thigh, making his way toward your pulsing sex. When his tongue issues the first swipe, you inhale sharply with fluttering eyes. Johnny isn’t in a rush, taking his sweet time to lazily lap up your slick and learning what incites you.           

Once he has a better understanding of your desire, he dives in and devours you whole. 

Realization sweeps over as to why he has to put his hair up.

In accompaniment to the painting of your folds, Johnny spreads them gently and ensures he dunks his tongue in your wetness. One of your hands drift away from the bed sheets to one of his snaked around your upper thigh, clutching onto his fingertips in reaction to the swift rotational swirls on your raw flesh.   

He draws back, lips lustrous from your nectar, and hastily replaces his mouth with two fingers.

Your half-lidded eyes shoot wide open. His long, thick fingers fill you greatly, scissor you so far in your sex, so much that you fear what his cock is like if this is how his digits feel. 

You’re overcome with bursts of pleasure. Further bursts ensue as Johnny tongues your clit alongside the fingering. Your throaty cries and the squelches of your pussy is melodious to his ears, better than playing his favourite vinyls on the best record player he owns. The lewdness of it all overwhelms his jean-bound arousal, so Johnny retaliates by grinding against the bed.  

After Johnny retreats, he stands by the foot of the bed and starts unbuckling his belt and pants. You crawl your way over, still panting and reeling from the rush of your high. As you reach him, he drags his pants and boxer-briefs towards the floor in one-go, freeing his unsurprising lengthy girth.    

On your knees, hunched over his cock, you chuckle in disbelief. “Now that’s unfair.” 

He watches in amusement as you examine his desire with delight, before taking it into your hand, pumping it languidly. “What is?” 

You peer up, cocking an eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re hot, own a record store, really funny, and you’re packing. God really has his favourites.” 

Johnny’s about to respond, but his brain short-circuits momentarily at the pad of your thumb rubbing his precome over the tip of his blunt head. He cranes his neck back, exhaling a groan. 

“Well, what can I say? Guess I’m just-fuck—” 

You suck the words out of him. Literally. 

Your warm embrace encompasses his entirety, possessing a strong hold over him. Since you can’t possibly take him fully into your mouth, your fist solves your problem by stroking him by the base. Aiming to please, especially after his oral act from earlier, you slurp and bob your head mercilessly, disregarding the saliva leaking down the sides of your mouth. 

One of Johnny’s hands arranges your hair in a make-shift ponytail to get a clearer view of the obscene display. His hazy eyes skim over the gorgeous curves of your bent back and ass jutting high up in the air. His breathing turns heavier and he’s about to tug on your hair, motioning for you to slow down, but you thankfully come up for air just in time. 

The stately figure attacks your lips with urgency. The kiss is wet and messy from going down on one another, but it merely adds to the intensity. While lip-locked, he lowers you into his pillow once more, then stretches an arm out to his bedside stand to fish out a condom. 

He nimbly rolls on the cover, but is confused to find you back on your knees instead of laying on the bed. You grasp him by the wrist and press your fingers against his firm pecs, indicating to him to recline backward. In awe, he obediently obliges. 

Hovering over him, you suck in a breath as you line your sex up with his, cognizant that you need to acclimatize to his size. You steadily sit onto his length and when it finally reaches the end, you release a piercing groan at the deep sensation.

For a bit, you don’t move too much to get used to his great desire. In the meantime, your fingers wander over the chiseled flesh in front of you—his defined, veiny arms; his solid chest; and the valleys of his abs. 

Once you think it’s been enough, you transfer more weight onto your knees and slide on his cock with more vigor. You throw your head back in pleasure. 

On the other end, Johnny’s gaze wavers between the main action, your bouncing breasts, and your supple neck. He can’t see your face clearly, but he knows you must be enjoying this as much as him by the breathy moans that follow each thrust.    

When your legs start to tire, Johnny tries to hold you close and roll you over onto your backside. You both giggle at the unsuccessful attempt to keep himself still inside of you, but that’s an easy fix. Despite just having him within you, you gasp again at the penetration. Him being on top hits you at a different angle and you truly feel the length of his inches. 

Johnny reaches down to meet your lips. You brush your fingers over his pulled back hair as he consumes your existence. In addition to each passing drive of his body into yours, you also grip harder onto his hair in ecstasy, which leads to the unraveling of his long locks upon your face. The gold ocean of silkiness drowns your senses, the strands stroking your skin like extra caresses. 

Retreating back onto his knees and raking a hand through his tousled mane, his hands then attach to the flanks of your body and he pounds you breathless, leaving you heaving for air. 

In your dazed state, you desperately grab on to whatever you can—the sheets, his upper frame, his ass, anything. Throughout it all, your core contracts even tighter over the way his clavicle, tendons, and muscles protrude and flex like they’re about to break through his skin.  

At this point, you’re beyond delirious and definitely beyond gratified. You assume he’s about to finish when he decreases his pace and bends closer to you, but instead, he continues to still move inside of you.  

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ,” you gasp and grunt between his rough, buried thrusts. “How are you not close?” 

“I’m not ready to be done with you yet, beautiful,” Johnny rasps into your ear. You catch a glimpse of his cocked eyebrow and smirk. “Unless you can’t handle me?” 

Denying his accusation, you haul his cheeks to yours and kiss him fiercely.  

And with that, Johnny’s weight is on his knees again and he fucks you like there’s no tomorrow. 

However, Johnny might’ve been right because it doesn’t take long for you to beg repeatedly for him to come.  

“So, what’s the verdict? Still like me after that?” 

Both individuals are still nude on the bed, but now covered by a blanket. Resting on his chest, you drum your fingers over his skin in thought (as if you need to even think about an answer besides the obvious). 

Pouting up at Johnny, you say, “I’ll only like you if you keep your promise on fucking me in the store next time.” 

“Of course.” He palms your cheek and inches forward, preparing to kiss you tenderly. 

“A gentleman never breaks his promise.”  

EPILOGUE 

One month later, the record store’s business has been growing, so Johnny decides to hire one of his friends, Mark, to be a part-time worker.

Which means that Johnny has more spare time to do other things... like taking you from behind in the back office over his desk. 

“Shit, fuck,” you grip harshly onto the edges of the worn-out wooden desk as he thrusts endlessly. Even after a month of dating, your pussy still isn’t fully accustomed to the size of his girth. You’re unsure if it ever will be. 

No matter, it always feels amazing. 

“Johnny, Johnny—” 

“Johnny!” Mark’s voice suddenly cuts in and calls from outside of the office door. You immediately bite down on your lower lip to shut yourself up. “Someone’s asking me about a limited edition vinyl and I don’t know how to answer.” 

“Uhhh,” Johnny drones absentmindedly, yet jabs into you with more rigor. You bite down harder, but you can’t control the rising volume of your stifled moans. “Give me five minutes.” 

A silent beat passes. 

“Dude, are you fucking in the office again?!” the part-timer exclaims. You can practically see him shaking his head in disgust. “Ugh, I’ll give them the store’s card. Hurry up, though.”

As he walks away, you hear him faintly say, “Sometimes I think this is why you hired me...” 

Simultaneously, you both giggle heartily. Your lover pecks you lovingly on your shoulder prior to diving again into the wanton moment. 

In the end, Johnny actually spends ten more minutes with you. But he can afford the extra minutes—he is the owner of the shop, after all. 

[amimimi]

Hi it's actually my first time requesting 💀 can you do like the reader is a volleyball player from a different school who came to their school to compete and is hella intimidating cause they're really quiet and doesn't really smile that often and their team won. Maybe do yamaguchi, tsuki, tendou, bokuto and suna?

I'm sorry if it's messy i get nervous cause it's my first time requesting 😭✋

hey angel! thank you for sending this in!! And don’t worry, this wasn’t messy at all!

also, i didn’t know if you meant reader’s team played the guys’ teams so i’m sorry if i misunderstood!

the strong, silent type; yamaguchi, tsukishima, tendou, bokuto, suna

synopsis: in which you somehow manage to catch a certain someone’s attention without having to say a word (well, barely a word)

pairings: yamaguchi x reader, tsukishima x reader, tendou x reader, bokuto x reader, suna x reader

warnings: swearing

notes: this is my first haikyuu request!!

YAMAGUCHI

baby boy is intrigued to say the least

he’s also, you know, very intimidated

karasuno is hosting volleyball camp for the weekend so a few of schools from the area come over

karasuno lost a match so they go do a lap up the hill and back down

yamaguchi shakily walks back into the gym, panting and sweating profusely from the run

two other teams are playing so he decided to watch and catch his breath

it’s getting pretty intense until your team’s setter sets the ball for you

you run up and leap in the air, your brows furrowed with determination and tongue sticking slightly out, and you spike ball, slamming it to the opponents ground

and it’s slams so fucking loud

yamaguchi mouth drops, impressed by your raw power

by then tsukishima has joined him, standing alongside yamaguchi

“sheesh” tsukishima mutters at how hard you struck the ball

meanwhile, yamaguchi’s jaw is still on the floor as he watches you with sparkles in his eyes

your teammates erupt in cheer while you’re just like 😐👍

yamaguchi tells tsukishima that they should congratulate your team (he’s talking about you mostly)

and tsuki is like “okay have fun doing that!”

and yamaguchi is like “w-wait! please go with me? they’re scary 🥺”

and tsukishima is like “this is so stupid...” but he ends up going with yamaguchi nskdicnwiwjs

you’re drinking from your water bottle when you feel a slight tap on your shoulder

you whirl around to see tsukishima and yamaguchi LITERALLY standing like—

⠀ ⠀ ⠀(\__/)

(•ㅅ•)

　＿ノ ヽ ノ＼＿

`/　`/ ⌒Ｙ⌒ Ｙ　ヽ

( 　(三ヽ人　 /　　 |

|　ﾉ⌒＼ ￣￣ヽ　 ノ

ヽ＿＿＿＞､＿＿_／

　　 ｜( 王 ﾉ〈 (\__/)

　　 /ﾐ`ー―彡\(•ㅅ•)

　　/ ╰ ╯ \/ \>

yamaguchi pipes up from where he stands, slightly behind tsukishima

“that last spike you did was really cool!” he squeaks, mentally slapping himself for how he voice cracked on “cool”

you blink in surprise before you gently smile

and yamaguchi, in his head of course, is like “HOLY SH*T THEY SMILED??!&)&8:9:”

“thank you” you reply, “i don’t think you told me your name”

TSUKISHIMA

when i tell you this man is not FAZEDDDDD

like he does not give a shit how intimidating you are

he notices that you’re a great volleyball player and that you’re a great coordinator

but that’s where it ends

he’s not intrigued enough/doesn’t care about the motivations of other people

you both walk up to the lil fountain outside the gym to refill your water bottle at the same time

you both sorta halt, before tsukishima motions for you to go first

you nod and thank him quietly, moving to refill your water bottle

tsuki feels his eyebrows furrow when a loud yell suddenly splits the silence, already recognizing who that might be

he turns around and of course, it’s hinata yelping and dodging kageyama’s blows, while the latter yells profanities at hinata

tsukishima sees that you’ve turned around too, trying to see what was going on

“what a couple of morons...” tsukishima mutters to you

you blink at tsukishima, straight faced as ever, before saying, “you shouldn’t bad mouth your team mates”

MY BOY SIEZES UP SO F*CKIN QUICK DUCHDKDJD

he thought since you were quiet and serious looking, that you kinda hated everyone/were pessimistic

you thought WRONG

he turns back to you with raised eyebrows, a little surprised and slight embarrassed about being scorned

you just smile at him and tsuki is surprised for a second time

“see you inside” you nod politely and before walking past him

get rekt tsukishima

TENDOU

yes, my slightly odd looking yet handsome son

he is NOT intimidated by you—AT ALL (have you seen his bestie? 😭)

in fact, the first time tendou sees you, he watches you for like 17 seconds and is like “oh...oh i’m bout to ANNOY TF OUTTA OF THEM”

i feel like he just wants to single out serious people and f*ck around with them—all in good taste though!

will try and goad you into messing up from across the net

but you’re just like 😐😑😐

switches tactics by trying giving you odd compliments

“y/n, right? i like the curvature of your spine,,,very unique 😌”

or “you have such delicate earlobes, y/n!”

if anything, he’s annoying both his teammates and yours

but he’s not done

starts crooning these lil songs about you, that he’s making up on the spot

he’s still not throwing you off your game but you are glancing over at him with a strange expression on your face

that just encourages him even more

eventually, semi smacks the back of tendou’s neck and gives him the “stfu” look

tendou glances over to see your lips twitching into a smile and he’s just smiles real big and wide at you

BOKUTO

my precious boy

he’d probably see you, standing there off to the side from where your teammates are huddled

and he thinks “omg,,,they’re shy,,,and lonely,,,I HAVE TO HELP THEM!”

but you’re just zoning out or something, completely fine

bokuto is trying to collect introverts like they’re f*ckin pokemon cards

he thinks he’s good with all kinds of people (and he is!) but he thinks he’s especially good with quieter people

after your match, bokuto bounds up to you with akaashi trailing behind (he’s there for damage control mostly)

“hey there!” bokuto smiles and your eyes slightly widen at how his voice booms throughout the whole gym. “your team did amazing out there! i couldn’t believe how coordinated you all are! and the way that you flew? your spikes could use a bit more force but you’re amazing either way—”

you generally feel overwhelmed by hyperactive people, but you’re REALLY feeling it now

especially considering how tired you are after that match and how fast Bokuto is talking

you honestly can’t keep up with what he’s saying to you, his eyes glimmer are glimmering and his whole face is lit up and DAMN you don’t have the heart to interrupt him

so you just nod at him with wide eyes like “yup, mhm, yea, that’s right, of course”

when he finally finished his spiel, you take the opportunity to ask for his name

and you’re like “oh! yeah! you’re one of the top 3 aces in the nation right?”

bokuto’s grin widens even further, but before he can respond, akaashi cuts in with “top 5 actually”

and bokuto whirls around with a look that screams utter betrayal—like B*TCH!!&/8:73?

“that’s really impressive!” you smile and bokuto’s mouth drops because DID YOU JUST MAKE A FACIAL EXPRESSION???

he’s hyping himself up like “aha, didn’t even talk to them for FIVE minutes and i already cracked them 😤”

SUNA

he’s just gonna stare at you

like a creepy ass owl or something

he sees your minding your own business respectfully and he’s like “...this feels insulting”

he thinks that YOU think that you’re some tough ass b*tch

MF, I’M JUST MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS 😭

suna: they’re trying to intimidate us

ojiro: ...they’re just standing there

suna: you think they’re trying to intimidate us?

ojiro: no, i don’t actually—

suna: nah, they’re definitely trying to intimidate us

so suna tries to intimidate YOU—reverse uno that b*tch

will stare at you from across the court with his hands shoved in his shorts like—🧍‍♂️

it honestly is a little unsettling because you just see this tall ass, lanky figure in your peripheral vision and your turn to see this guy STARING AT YOU LIKE—👁‍🗨👄👁‍🗨

he scares your teammates too dkfjdkshs

if you’re team is playing his, he will forcefully block your spikes and then just stare back at you LIKE DAMN, YOU GOOD?

the whole thing lets up, when your teams go to shake hands

you take his hand in yours and give him a firm shake, genuinely smiling

“you play well!” you compliment

“...you do too” he says hesitantly and you nod slightly before letting go of his hand and going to shake Osamu’s

he tells ojiro later that you had a “firm grip” and ojiro’s like “...mhm 😒”

notes: i wanna write more haikyuu (specifically timeskip)! also not me projecting the odd feeling i have for suna where it’s like a cross of “everything about you annoys me” and “damn u kinda hot 🙄”. my love/hate relationship with aquarius men 😌

[callboxkat]

Banished (part 1)

Prompt: Banished

Author’s note:  Mappy MerMay! (edit: I see the typo and I choose to keep it)

Summary:  Janus has been banished from his pod for crimes that he did not commit. However, this merman’s bad luck is far from over. A mer is not meant to live on their own in the open ocean, and as one would expect, things do not go well. Enter: Florida Man.

Chapter Warnings:  false accusations, past imprisonment, banishment, treating someone as an outcast, censored swearing, crying, death mentions

Word count: 2415

Banished Masterpost!

Writing Masterpost!

Ao3 Link

@badthingshappenbingo​

...

“Janus, third child of Mariana and Glycon, you are hereby banished from this pod, and from all pods who condemn the nature of your crimes.”

Janus had known it was coming, but nevertheless, the merman felt the verdict stab through him like a harpoon. The water around him suddenly felt 10 degrees colder, and the walls of the chamber seemed to loom ever closer, suffocating him.

Banished.

Murmurs rippled through the small crowd. Scales shimmered as the gathered mers, most already hanging on the edges of the chamber, tried to distance themselves further from the outcast. From him.

“You will have until sunset to leave the reef. Should you be found within our territory after the sun sinks below the horizon, the penalty is death.”

Janus simply stared at the merwoman before him, holding herself tall in front of the ornate coral design upon the wall of the chamber, her face stony. Her verdict was final, and Janus knew it. It didn’t matter that he was innocent. Officially, he was a criminal. An outcast. Banished. Trying to fight her decision would only further tarnish his image, and most likely that of the family and friends he left behind.

A part of him didn’t care about that. But the part that did held his tongue.

Janus’s eyes shifted toward the back of the chamber, where he could see most of his family huddled together. His mother was crying, being held by his father. His siblings looked stunned. A part of Janus wanted to call out, to tell them to do something, even though he knew that there was nothing any of them could do to save him. He wasn’t sure they even believed him, that he had not committed these crimes. While they never told him so, their notably few visits while he was in prison spoke volumes.

His eyes slid back to the judge, and he dipped his head in bitter acceptance. His fists tightened, and the long, metal chain attacked to one of his arms clinked softly. It was there both to keep him trapped and to prevent him to use his electric abilities, as if he would ever do something so loathsome and barbaric, even if his family hadn’t been in the room.

The judge raised her hands, and the chamber began to empty. A couple of Janus’s siblings glanced back at him as they left, but mostly, the mers who had come for the show avoided looking at him now. They would not want to be associated with an outcast. He understood, even if anger gathered in his chest. Even his parents refused to look in his direction, and the glances his siblings spared him were brief.

Finally, when all who remained were Janus, the judge, and the guards, two off them swam to his sides and unlocked the chain from Janus’s wrist, one keeping a clawed hand at the back of Janus’s neck as a warning. The cuff was replaced with another, lighter, but permanent one. This one was etched with sharp symbols. Janus closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as it was locked in place, a permanent hindrance to how much of his electricity he could use without harming himself, a solemn marker of his fate, and a warning to all others of his crimes. He would never be taken into another pod, not with that on his wrist. Not unless he could somehow get somewhere far enough away that they might not know what it meant.

At last, the guards let him go. He was allowed to leave. To prepare for his departure, and to say goodbye.

Janus opened his eyes and looked up at the judge, who remained at her post, watching him. He knew that he was supposed to thank her for her mercy, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He figured that the “Go f*ck yourself” he actually wanted to say would do him and his family no favors, so he compromised and simply turned and swam from the room.

His life was over, in every way that mattered.

Outside, the bustling atmosphere of the reef seemed in sharp contrast to the somber mood within the chamber. Fish and other sea creatures weaved between glimmering mers. Cheerful gossip could be heard, as well as mers arguing over prices at colorful stalls, or calling out greetings to each other. Some kids seemed to be trying to see who could get the most pebbles to sail between the fork in a tall spire of coral.

It had been some time since Janus had been “free” this way, which only made the difference feel all the more staggering. To be suddenly thrust back into this normal part of life, even if only for the few hours they allowed him to prepare for his banishment, was… unsettling.

However, the atmosphere wasn’t quite the same as it had once been. None of the mers came close to him, Janus noted, choosing instead to take a longer path to avoid him, even as they acted as if nothing was wrong. As if it were a coincidence that they wanted to swim on the other side of the path. There had always been some nervousness that many mers tended to have around those with abilities like electricity or poison. But this was a whole level or two beyond that.

They knew. Of course they did. He was sure that everybody had been told of his “crimes”. The metal cuff on his wrist burned like a brand, but he refused to rub it, or to hide it with his other hand.

He swam away. He wasn’t even sure where he was going, but soon enough, he found himself at his destination

Of course. He wouldn’t have gone anywhere else.

It wasn’t his home that he found himself approaching, slowing his pace as it came into sight. Most of his family had said their good byes before his sentencing. Instead, he found himself at the home of his best friend: Roman.

Roman hadn’t been at Janus’s sentencing, but it seemed that the merman had somehow known he would come, and had been waiting for him. He was pacing, swimming back and forth between the two large, algae and sea star covered stones that marked the entrance to his property.

As Janus approached, Roman froze, and turned sharply towards him. His face was almost as red as the striping on his gorgeous tail, the pain in his eyes clearly visible with his long hair tied back.

“Janus,” he croaked, and pushed off of one of the rocks, swimming for Janus as fast as he could.

They crashed into each other, Roman’s arms encircling him. Janus choked on a surge of emotion and squeezed his best friend back. It was the first time they’d been this close to each other since his arrest.

“I’m sorry, Jan.”

“It’s okay,” he lied. Perhaps if he could convince Roman, Janus could believe it himself.

…

All too soon, the sky above the water began to turn pink and orange as the sun dipped below the horizon. It was time to leave.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Roman asked.

The two mermen floated together at the edge of the reef. Behind them, bioluminescent lanterns had begun to glow, and the sounds of life had begun to lull as most everyone went home for the night. Everyone except for them. Janus had a bag strapped to his back, with what few supplies he had allowed himself to bring. Some food, his gloves—which still fit over the cuff that would forever mark him as an outcast, thankfully—some bandages, a compass, and two carvings: one of his family made just after his youngest sibling had been born, and one of Janus and Roman, smiling for the carver.

Roman and Janus had gone back to Janus’s home to fetch the supplies. It had been nice to have Roman there, for his support. Most of his family had avoided him, even though he could tell they were heartbroken. A couple of his siblings had told him good-bye, and to take care of himself. Only his littlest sibling, who probably knew very little of the situation, had hugged Janus. She’d grown, since he’d last seen her. Janus had remained resolutely calm as he clung to her for the last time.

“Of course I’ll be okay,” Janus lied, now, looking out at the dark water.

Roman looked unsure, but Janus only turned and offered a half smile.

“So, uh… where are you going to go?”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked. Janus still didn’t know how to answer.

“Maybe I’ll find another pod to join,” he shrugged eventually.

Roman’s eyes went to the metal cuff on Janus’s wrist, letters etched within it to symbolize his condemnation. He knew as well as Janus did that no mer pod who knew its meaning would take him, not when it was so clear to see.

“Maybe I’ll cover it up,” Janus said, putting a hand over the cuff self-consciously. He did his best to seem casual about it. He’d been almost defiant, back in the busier part of the reef, but it felt different, with Roman.

“Maybe,” Roman agreed halfheartedly.

“You know those arm bands the guards wear? Maybe I’ll get something like that. Or I’ll get thicker gloves.”

“You are pretty good at weaving,” Roman allowed. “You could make them look nice.”

“Naturally.”

They looked out at the open water.

“You could add some beading,” Roman suggested.

“Sea glass,” Janus nodded.

Roman nodded vaguely. “Oh—Jan, I have something for you.” He took off his own pack and started to dig through it.

“I hope it’s not too heavy,” Janus said dryly. “I’ll probably have to swim pretty far. If you’re giving me one of those statues of yours, I’m going to have to say no.”

“Ah, shut up,” Roman said, smacking his arm lightly. A heartbroken look flashed briefly on his face, and he quickly went back to digging through his pack. “No, it’s… here.” He pulled something out with a small flourish. He looked at it for a second, as if hesitating, then handed it over.

It was a small, red scale, a little bigger than the pad of Janus’s thumb, attached to a cord.

Janus took it in careful hands. “One of yours?”

Roman shifted, tucking his hands behind his back. “Yeah. You know, so you don’t forget about me on all your marvelous adventures to come.”

“I’d never forget you, Roman.” Janus looked down at the scale for a few seconds, tilting it so it shimmered in the fading sunlight. He glanced up, biting his lip. “I’m sorry I don’t have any to give you.”

They glanced down at Janus’s tail. It was sleek, nearly black, with a thick yellow stripe down the center that flared out at the fin, with yellow hints at the fins on his sides and back as well. All in all, it wasn’t all that different from most mers’ tails, except that rather than scales, its surface was made up of smooth, thick skin.

“It’s okay,” Roman said. “I’ll remember you, anyway.”

Janus nodded. He put the necklace around his neck, but kept turning the scale in his hands.

Silence fell over them. Above, the sun seemed to dip further below the horizon, signaling just how little time they had left.

And then Roman began to cry.

“Sh*t,” said Janus, looking down at the ground. “Don’t do that. You’re embarrassing me.” You’re going to make me cry if you keep that up.

Roman shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m trying—I know you want to just act like it’s normal, like this is just a normal night, but—Janus, I’m never—” his voice broke, and he had to take a shuddering breath to continue—“I’m never going to see you again.”

Janus knew that. Of course he knew that. He took a deep, steadying breath.

“This f*cking sucks.”

Roman, still crying, nodded emphatically.

“Come here,” he sighed. He reached out and put his arms around Roman. They floated there for a moment, holding on to each other. Roman’s grip was so tight that it almost hurt. Janus tried to memorize the feeling of his bracelets where they rested against his back, the texture of his hair against the side of his face, the way the merman felt in his arms.

“I just… How are you—how are you just okay with this? Why aren’t you yelling and screaming? Why aren’t you angry? Go fight them on this! Appeal or something. Fight. You’re… it’s not like you to just accept this.”

“It won’t change anything.” Janus said, his chin on Roman’s shoulder.

“You could at least… try.”

“I did try, Roman. I promise you I tried.” All the yelling and swearing and fighting in the world had gotten Janus absolutely nowhere. All his attempts to prove his innocence had been stricken down. One last attempt at an appeal would simply be rejected. It was too late to try, with the sun nearly set; and doing his trial over again would made no difference, anyway. Janus’s fate had been decided the moment he was arrested.

“Damnit,” Roman mumbled. Somehow, he managed to squeeze Janus tighter.

Normally, Janus was not the most cuddly mer in the ocean. But he’d allow it, tonight. …For Roman’s sake.

“What if I let you stay here?” Roman asked. “I could hide you. My parents left me a pretty big property. It has plenty of hiding spaces.”

Janus shook his head. “They’d figure it out eventually. And then they’d just kill us both.”

“Then… then I’ll come with you.”

Janus shook his head. “Roman, what about Patty? We can’t take them with us.”

Roman turned his head briefly away. He didn’t answer, other than to drop his head down so that his forehead rested on Janus’s shoulder, defeated. He never could have abandoned his sibling, or forced them to share Janus’s fate.

The sun sank lower.

“Just tell me you’re going to be okay,” Roman sniveled. “Really. Promise me.”

“Of course I’m going to be okay,” Janus lied. “I promise.”

It was okay that Roman clearly didn’t believe him. It was just what he was supposed to say, wasn’t it?

…

The moment that Janus was far enough from the reef that Roman could no longer see him, Janus broke. He just hadn’t wanted Roman to see him cry.

[thebigqueer]

Solangelo - "Let's F*ck with the Patriarchy" - One-Shot

Summary: Nico tries on makeup for the first time.

Word Count: 1388

TW: Internalized Homophobia, Homophobia, Swearing

Read on AO3

“Will, are you sure this washes off easily?”

Will pauses before Nico and raises his eyebrows. “Yes, Nico, it does. Don’t be afraid.”

Nico’s lips turn down in a frown, betraying his anxiety. “I’m just… nervous. I don’t want someone to see me.”

Will sets the eyeliner in his fingers to the side and leans towards Nico. “Nico, if you’re not ready, then we don’t have to try it. I don’t want to push you into doing something you don’t want to.”

Nico shakes his head quickly. “No, I want to, Will. I just… I just don’t want anyone to see me. I just want to experiment for now.”

Will smiles softly. “Okay. But let me know if you want me to stop.”

The shades of the Apollo cabin are drawn, bathing the two in darkness. Nico asked for this specifically so that he could be sure no one was watching as Will applied makeup on him. He asked Will to do it a few days ago, anxiety sparking in his eyes, as if he were afraid someone would judge him for it.

Will steps over to Nico tentatively, brandishing the eyeliner pen again. Nico looks at it hesitantly, as if he’s nervous it might just stab him in the heart and kill him. Will tilts his head. “Do you want me to put it on or do you want to do it yourself?”

Nico shrugs. “I’ve never had experience with eyeliner. You should do it.”

Will knows Nico isn’t speaking out of plausibility, but he also sees the other half of the truth behind his dark eyes: he’s scared of admitting himself into the world of femininity. He’d rather someone else dip him in.

Will nods in agreement. He uncaps the pen and places the side of his hand over Nico’s cheek, basking in the softness of his face. The tip of the pen is mere millimeters from Nico’s eyelid, but Will doesn’t start drawing yet. Nico’s eyes are shivering and his body stands rigid, ready to run if he needs to.

“Nico,” Will says, “I just want to tell you that this is your decision. You don’t have to be afraid of falling into femininity. You aren’t going to be fitting into the ‘gay stereotype’ or anything. Lots of people do this.” A sad sigh escapes his chest. “Society has told us that femininity is to be looked down upon. But it isn’t. Everyone is different. Some people are more feminine than others, and others prefer to express masculinity. Make-up is only a small aspect to someone’s identity; it doesn’t make you gay or girly or anything. It just makes you you.” He smiles again, and Nico opens his dark eyes, peering at Will intensely. “I think you’re brave for trying this. Don’t be afraid, okay? I’m here with you.”

Surprisingly, Nico’s eyes glaze over with tears. None come out, but Will’s heart swells with admiration for his boyfriend. The son of Hades smiles. “Thank you, Will.” He takes a deep breath, then closes his eyes. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Will’s hand shakes a little as he glides over Nico’s skin. He’s nervous, too - he doesn’t want Nico to hate it. It’s his first time truly experimenting with gender and nonconformity, and he doesn’t want to ruin the experience for him.

As Will works, Nico asks softly, “How did you feel when you first started wearing makeup? Were you nervous?”

Will pokes into the corner of Nico’s eye, careful to avoid stabbing him directly. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “I was. I come from the south, and there… Well, people aren’t that open to stuff. My mom was great with nonconformity and stuff but it’s just… the narrow-mindedness was intense, you know? It was hard to be me. When I first started getting into makeup, I was just really scared.” As he speaks, Will glides right above Nico’s eyelashes, creating a thin black trail of ink across his olive skin. “I thought it was weird to wear makeup. That’s what gender roles taught me when I was younger and living in Texas.” He turns the ink up at the outer corner of Nico’s eye, creating a small wing. Sighing, he adds, “I guess I just had a lot of internalized shit in me.”

As Will steps back and admires his work, Nico says, “How did you get over it?”

Will tilts his head as he gazes at the black line on Nico’s eye. It’s not as neat as he’d like to be, but it does seem to fit Nico’s idea of a “thin” black line, so he leaves it be. Pressing his fist to the other side of Nico’s face, Will answers, “It took a lot of time, honestly. A lot of self-reflection and, well, talking to Dionysus. I had a little bit of internalized homophobia, which you already know.” Again, as he speaks, Will draws a flat line over his skin. “Just… yeah, it was hard. So don’t worry, Nico. I know how you may be feeling right now. But… it gets better. And I’m glad you’re experimenting through all this. I’m proud.” After twirling the ink up, Will releases his hold on Nico and steps back admiring his work. His lips quirk into a smile. “Okay, you can look into the mirror now.”

Nico hesitates for a moment, stepping an inch forward but then quickly retracting his foot back. He offers Will a nervous glance, and behind his eyes the son of Apollo notices the fear, the shadows. Though Nico says nothing, Will gets his message loud and clear: What if I hate myself?

Will only offers an encouraging nod. And Nico steps forward.

Nothing spectacular happens. No fireworks go off, no sparkles, no confetti. The earth doesn’t explode, and no earthquake happens. But when Nico sees himself in the mirror, Will knows the world has somehow changed for him. His mind turns in on itself as he glances at his reflection. Will can almost see the merge of two worlds: the feminine and the masculine one. They clash on Nico’s face, creating a crater on his moral beliefs.

Nico’s breath hitches as he gazes at himself. His face isn’t too intense, really, but Will understands how much of a shock it is to see a slightly different version of oneself. He steps back to give Nico his space, to explore this new world.

Nico touches the corner of his eye gently. His skin pales a little, and for a second even Will wonders if this was a bad idea to introduce him to makeup. What if he isn’t ready for the new experience?

Time stills. Neither of them move; neither of them breathe. They simply gaze at Nico’s reflection, gauge the look of his face.

Then a wavering smile leaks over Nico’s lip and he turns to Will. He opens his mouth to say something but his words stop in their tracks.

Will raises an eyebrow, waiting patiently.

Nico tries again. This time, his voice finds itself again: “I think I like it.”

Will smiles at him. “Good. I’m glad you do.”

“Should I… keep this on for a while?” he asks. Will wants to tell him that it’s his choice, that he should do what he wants, but he knows this is a delicate situation. It’s one of those moments where Nico’s really asking for a decision to be made for him. He’s not sure what counts as a good idea anymore.

Will caps the eyeliner and rolls it over the dresser. “How do you feel? Are you ready to share this part of you with the world yet?”

He sees the hesitance in his eyes, the calculations of all the possibilities.

Nico takes a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I want the world to see me yet. But I like it.”

“We can stay in here then. That way not many people will see you, and you can still wear it.”

Nico’s eyes glimmer at the suggestion. “Yeah. That’s what I want to do.”

“We can play a boardgame.”

“We could play Mythomagic.”

“Okay, nerd.”

“Says the one with the NASA posters all over his bed.”

Will laughs gently. He tugs at Nico’s fingers and intertwines them with his own. “I’m glad you tried this. Let’s fuck with the patriarchy, forever and always.”

[ceoofanticatradora]

We need more anti C//A who are Adora stans (like you seem to be) so that people can understand that C///A is bad for Adora. Heck C//A is bad for Catra too, but the shippers don't seem to realize it. If Catra had been able to let Adora go maybe she could have healed instead of her festering and the abuse may have ended instead of escalated.

Hello Dear, welcome on my Blog and a big thank you for your message! Firstly I wanna apologize that this response is reaching you more than three full days, almost four later. Just real life getting into the way of my online presence (at least I got my A-Levels admission!) but I assure you that replying to you was on my To Do List the entire time. And while I could've typed something quick, I thought you deserved a full length response just as much as the person before you received. That goes for anyone really to ask/write me anything in the future.

Adora is a character that has flaws, her own interests, things she struggles with/is insecure about etc. but she also still works on being better (up to Season 5). This makes her relatable, fleshed out and overall three dimensional. Overall for me that makes Adora very likeable. Which is funny because when I first watched the show I thought of her as too goofy and felt like she as a character was overall just flat. Her character design did not speak to me either, the ponytail with the weird hair poof and these pointy shoulders of her jacket just really were not my taste. Isn't it amazing how perceptions can change?

As you can guess from that description I did not always stan Adora and she's probably still not my favorite character but over the almost two years I've been in this fandom I've grown rather fond of her. Other important characters to me are Kyle (a very relatable comfort character of mine, he learned to stand up for himself and others and I support that, f*ck Season 5 for barely acknowledging his existence), Lonnie (apart from treating Kyle badly (which I really do NOT support or excuse) I really love her, man, some women just do me like that, I mean she really stood up to Catra like that), Entrapta (I'm autistic too! It's great to have some representation, seeing the ableism/treatment she experiences in the show is not so much though), Seahawk (I don't even know why, I have some issues with his behavior towards Mermista at times but overall I love this dork), Scorpia (she reminds me of myself so much and I really wanna give her hugs, I'm so glad she chose to no longer let Catra treat her like that even though I will be forever salty she just immediately forgave her), Peekablue (I can explain this even less than Seahawk, especially since it was not even really him in the end but his existence somehow helped me cope with Season 5, without him I probably would've left this fandom ... and also my favorite color is blue) and Double Trouble (now there's enough people already critcizing how they're not exactly great Non-binary representation but this dramatic lizard will forever be in my heart, that reality check they gave Catra, basically slapping her in the face with facts was satisfying as h*ck, also I like lizards overall).

Now there's plenty of characters I like, dislike (or even hate) or am simply indifferent about but after all this is not a tier list but me talking about Adora, Catra and Catradora. Adora started off as this girl that was so sure what she was doing is right but once she was taught differently she was willing to leave everything she knew (except Catra, because she valued her despite everything) behind. And not only that, she broke out of the abuse cycle that Catra tried so hard to keep upright. And that is exactly what makes Adora such a good role model. She teaches children (or people) that:

Your past doesn't define what/who you are or what/who you can become

-> Adora used to be a Horde soldier and did not know where she came from, but nonetheless she found herself a family and became a hero that saved thousands of people

You can always change your mind and start a new life if you feel disappointed in what you are doing/who you are as a person

-> Basically the exact same point, Adora started a new life as she saw what the Horde really was and changed her mind about who to fight for

You deserve love too, be it platonic or romantic (or se*ual???) (If you're aro and/or ace just ignore the part that does not work for you)

-> While Adora for various reasons thought her only use was to please others and meet their needs and expectations (mostly due to Shadow Weaver and Catra) she learned to accept that she too deserves love and validation (if the love aspect would not have been focused on it being romantic love so she could smooch Catra in the finale this would've been a billion times better because she got love from her friends that showed her her real value)

You can walk away from something/someone, that does not make you egoistic/selfish

-> Adora walked away from the Horde, after Catra stubbornly refused to come with her despite many offers (basically Catra broke the promise, not Adora) from her too and that did not make her a "traitor" or "selfish", h*ck, Adora in the end did this for a bigger purpose too, even if part of it was her not wanting to live with such wrong morals

Your opinions, feelings etc. about a person/something can change and that is perfectly fine and valid, being able to change is part of what makes someone human

-> Adora's views on many things changed throughout the show: The Horde and the Rebellion, the First Ones, Catra, being She-Ra, herself, her priorities and so on ... she actually makes use of her brain, which is why Catra saying "Don't you ge it?" or calling her an idiot and dumb never sat right with me, she's a realistic character for shifting with her thoughts, feelings etc. and sometimes just does not fully think things through

You don't have to let other people treat you like sh*t (just because they have some issues they never worked through does not give them any right to let it out on you)

-> This point is obviously centered mostly around Catra and her abusing Adora almost every chance she gets, which is why Adora standing up for herself and not letting Catra blame her for her own decisions and mistakes is so important, "You made your choice, now live with it" is one of the most powerful lines throughout all the five Seasons

Now I'm sure there is still more to Adora's character than what I just listed and unfortunately almost all the points basically got pushed aside, well, Adora as a character got pushed aside in Season 5. All her growth, the things that made me love her, see her as great role model for so many people robbed of their value for the sake of making everything revolve around Catra. That brings me to her and how you are absolutely right that Catradora is harmful to both characters. Of course Adora is affected most by it in the end but Catra too is obviously suffering under the fandoms obsession and just the overall idea of them being romantically involved.

Just like with Adora the stans make almost everything about Catra over her relationship with Adora. She too can barely exist outside of it and if she wasn't the fan favorite she'd most likely would too be mostly in Fanarts that include Adora and not just her (if you google "Catra Fanart" most content is still Catra and Catra only but here and there Catradora still peaks through). But for whatever reason the fandom still views her more as her own person as the other ones? Catrouble and Scorptra Shippers might actually still get less hate than Glimmadora Shippers (I'm not denying they don't get any, they most certaintly do) which is just plain hypocricy and favorism. Kinda like the: A woman needs to be loyal to her husband and her husband only but if the husband wants to be active with other women that is perfectly fine because "that is just how men are" or how i like to call it ... sexism. Now in this case they are both women so it's not sexism but yo do get my point.

But much more importantly, Catra has an unhealthy obsession with Adora. Signs of that are for example:

Constantly talking about Adora, even when said person is not around (to Shadow Weaver, Scorpia etc.)

Obsessing over having control over Adora like in that one Episode "Are you kidding? I finally got control over Adora, I'm not giving that up!"

Building her entire character and her actions around Adora "We need to take Adora down", "Adora left me", "I'd rather see the whole world end than see you win!", also shown in Season 5 where she states she does save Glimmer only for Adora and not for Glimmer or to do the right thing

Getting aggressive or very emotional over Adora like clawing the wall, having nightmares etc. (destructive behavior towards herself and others)

Having no or barely any characteristics outside of her relationship with Adora like, we don't know her interests or likes and dislikes outside of being evil, obsessed with Adora, being abused by Shadow Weaver ...

Trying to force Adora to meet her needs and expectations regardless of Adora's owns

Sacrificing her oppurtunity to be happy in the Crimson Waste for the sake of her Adora obsession and being better than her at all costs

So yes, you were very right with saying that not putting Catra in a relationship with Adora would've benefited both characters. Catra could've learned to exist on her own, develop interests and a life outside of Adora. Learn to accept herself and eventually come to terms with her childhood abuse. She could've been free and not "the abusive cat girl that ended up with the person she unhealthily obsessed over to the point of no return" she kinda is now. Even if we ignore the whole "dating your long term abuser" part from Adora's side and "being rewarded" for horrible behavior, Catra alone is not giving a good example to people watching. As much as I dislike Catra, disdain her even, an ending where she is dependent on Adora, unable to stand on her own two legs after she led armies in war is not what I would wish for her, even with a decent redemption arc (that she did not get).

[catrasredemption-moved]

aibrkwbrkwbr f u ck so i know you did this like kinda already but- adora is jealous and like REFUSES to admit it ?

“Is... Is Adora okay?”

“Of course she isn’t, her girlfriend is flirting with another girl. And an alien, at that.”

“Isn’t Adora technically an alien?”

“Guys, shush. Catra isn’t flirting.”

Adora twitched, trying to block out the voices around her as she tapped her fingers against the table. A planet she couldn’t remember the name of had sent a diplomatic convoy to establish trade deals with Bright Moon, which was great. Yay peace.

But Adora wasn’t entirely sure why their tall, pink-skinned, long-haired, green-eyed princess had to come along. Or why said princess had been almost immediately infatuated by Catra.

...Okay, Adora did understand that part. But why was Catra putting up with it? She hated attention, contrary to most beliefs. She was happy to work in the background and let things go without credit. Yet here she was, letting this girl practically fawn over her.

The commentary from their traitorous friends wasn’t helping.

“That vein in Adora’s head is twitching. Should we be worried?”

“Of course not. Adora knows perfectly well that Catra’s love her and there’s no reason to be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Adora finally snapped over her shoulder at Scorpia, Perfuma, Mermista, Glimmer, and Bow. “Don’t you guys have anything better to do?”

“At a boring diplomatic party?” Mermista scoffed. “Of course not. This might be the most entertainment we get all week.”

“She’s right, go mingle or something,” Glimmer said, chasing the other three off before she and Bow joined Adora at their shared table. Catra had something to make to make the princess laugh. She was so dainty. Catra could break her.

“Come on Adora, there’s cake!” Bow said cheerfully.

“Not hungry.”

“It’s cake.”

“You’d really rather sit here and pout because Catra is making someone else laugh?” Glimmer asked, raising an eyebrow. “You know she’s just playing nice, right?”

“She could walk away if she wants!”

Glimmer gently hit Adora’s shoulder, finally getting her attention. “Do you remember why I put Catra in charge of all the political stuff?”

“Because you suck at it?”

“Well, yes, but you don’t have to be so mean about it.” Glimmer stuck her tongue out. “It’s because she’s good at this kind of thing - she can talk to people and fake a smile and knows the right words to use. She’s being nice to the princess because it’s good for us to have goo relations with other planets and their monarchy. I guarantee you she’s going to walk back over here, sit down, and start complaining about how long-winded that girl is. There’s nothing to be jealous about.”

“I’m not jealous,” Adora repeated through gritted teeth.

“Whatever you say, big girl.” Glimmer rolled her eyes. Bow moved to sit on Adora’s other side.

“What’s Catra got pinned to her shirt?”

“My Bright Moon pin.”

“Exactly.” Bow grinned. “She’s with you, and she’s happy. It doesn’t matter if someone else has a crush on her or if she takes a minute to play nice. She’s coming back to you.”

“Literally,” Glimmer added. Adora immediately refocused, straightening up to see Catra walking back to the table, taking a long sip of her drink.

“Blah, blah, blah,” she groaned, dropping into her seat. “I thought she’d never shut up. Oooooooooh, you saved me some cake.”

She reached across the table to grab the slice of cake Adora still hadn’t touched. The knot in Adora’s chest loosened slightly, and she let out a long, silent sigh.

“Hey, you’re not stealing my cake!”

“Too late, already did.”

Bow and Glimmer exchanged looks and shook their heads. Adora and Catra were the only ones who could put up with each other. Neither of them had anything to worry about.

[kilyra]

You Gotta F*ck Dead Guys?

A/N: My apologies right off the bat because Eric doesn’t actually make an appearance until towards the end - but until then, there are a few fun cameos! This follows immediately after “You Work for Him?” Like essentially a Pt 1, Pt 2 situation. 

After Eric’s display at Merlotte’s, you decide to head out outside and find him. That turns out to be a very, very bad idea.

Warnings: Bad language and violence. No spoilers though (I myself am only on S3 or 4, so this is an early Eric style fic…also, please don’t send me any spoilers).

If you want to be on my tag lists, (all or just a character) just let me know! (Credit for this amazing gif goes to @bonniebird​​​. Thank you SO much!)

Pressing your back against the wall, you were trapped by Lafayette's knowing stare when all you wanted to do was get back to your table. Finally, you raised your eyebrows in a silent question – what?

“You gonna tell me what that was all about or do I actually have to ask what the hell it is you got yourself into?”

“I didn't do this,” you snapped as your eyes darted to the side.

The adrenaline had yet to subside from your veins even more than an hour after Eric had left Merlotte's. Every time you calmed down, the scene would replay in your head and your anxiety spiked all over again. Taking a moment in the washroom and splashing cold water on your face didn't snap you out of it.

Your string of drinks almost had but...

Lafayette's voice dropped as he pointedly tilted his large metal spatula in your direction. "Girl, I'm not playing here. Eric fucking Northman would never come all up in this place for no good reason.”

Your mind skipped over why he had such strong opinions about the vampire and went straight to his accusations. Waving him off, you continued side-stepping along the wall – this was the last thing you needed. "Why don't you ask Sookie?"

“Well, honey, that's hard to do when she's a no show.”

Although he never tried to block your exit, his blunt statement stopped you just as effectively. As you swallowed back the new surge of panic that scrambled up from your chest, he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. He was clearly waiting for you to come back to him with an expectant quirk of his eyebrow.

Running your tongue over your lips, you took a deep inhale. It didn't help. “She...didn't show up today? As in she's...missing?”

Taking a long moment, Lafayette's eyes dropped over you, making no effort to hide that he was searching you, head to toe, for visual clues of what was going on. “As in she called to say she couldn't make it. Again.”

A small glimmer of relief settled over your fear. It still wasn't good, but at least she wasn't dead. The fact that your mind went straight to death was something else you couldn't deal with. “I have to go.”

“Mmmhmm," he hummed in an irritated tone but didn't try to stop you. He had always been good at reading you and especially at knowing when it was pointless to push.

Hoyt and Jason immediately stopped their conversation as you approached the table and scooped your jacket from your side of the booth. Softly, Hoyt tapped his knuckles on the table to get your attention. “Oh, what? Sick of us already?”

You needed to find out what was going on, and Eric obviously wasn't coming back to the bar.

Scoffing lightly, you plastered a relaxed grin on your face. It came shockingly easily to you. “No, no, my ride's here is all. So thanks, it was fun...and hopefully tomorrow won't be such a shitty day.”

Rolling his eyes with a half shrug, Hoyt let it go. But Jason shoved himself from the booth and immediately stood in your way after you downed the last of your drink. His dark brown eyes were filled with deep-seated concern as he leaned towards you. "You sure it's a good idea to be alone right now? If you wait just a minute, I  can pay up and come with you."

Letting out a long sigh through your nose, you couldn't help the slight aggravation that swirled into your chest from his sweet gesture. Having him with you wasn't going to help. Finishing your sigh with a chuckle, and hoping that was a good enough cover, you added a nose crinkle to your ongoing smile. “Oh, come on now, there's nothing to worry about. I'm not in any danger.”

Jason's lips pinched together as he quietly thought everything over. “I don't know, Y/n. That didn't seem very friendly like.”

Resting your hand on his solidly toned arm, you gave a reassuring squeeze. “Seriously, Jason, it's fine. Besides, you have to invite a vampire into your home and you can't possibly think I'm that dumb.”

Because that would be dumb...

Glancing down at your hand, he rubbed the back of his neck before he finally nodded. “Aw, hell, of course I don't. I just...look you got my number, alright? Make sure you use it is all.”

After repeatedly promising, you were still shocked that he let you go without following you out. All it would have taken was a single glance outside to see there was no ride. But as you hurried out of the parking lot, no worried shouts came to try to stop you.

Although you had only walked to Merlotte's a time or two before, you were confident you knew the way back home. What you didn't count on, however, was how different everything looked in the dark. While it was unimposing during the day, the shadows from the trees seemed to reach out for you with clawing hands at night. You quickened the pace.

It didn't take long before the alcohol wore off enough that you started questioning how good of an idea it was. Truthfully, you hadn't expected to make it much past the bar before Eric turned up to confront you. But, as you made your way along the deserted rural road, the little voice of reason...the one that spent way too much time being quiet lately...spoke up.

Get back to Merlotte's. This was a stupid idea.

But, just as you paused to turn back, there was a rustling in the bush.

And, just like that, your doubts disappeared in a wave of anger – partly for confronting you like he did and partly for letting you walk alone as long as he did. Huffing forcefully, you spun on your heel. “Well holy shit, about time. You wanted to talk so badly, so come out of there and lets fucking talk.”

Silence.

Clenching your jaw, you scanned the trees, waiting for Eric or even Pam to emerge. After a few long moments, a figure finally came out of the brush. Flanked by a few other figures. None of them were the tall, slim silhouettes you were expecting. Your pulse raced just a little faster.

As they came onto the road, the silver moonlight lit up their faces and you recognized them immediately. The mouth-breathers from Merlotte's with the suspiciously clean trucker hats.

Your heart dropped.

“Bad news, you fangbanging bitch but it ain't your pretty boy vamp out here.” It was too dark to see which one said it. Not that it mattered.

“You think she was really just planning on talking?”

“No. What's a matter baby, is a real man too much for you? You gotta fuck dead guys?”

Their sneering comments back and forth flooded you with the horror of your situation. You were out there alone and severely outnumbered. Not even Jason's training could help the odds. Through your panic haze, one clear thought came to the surface.

Run.

Darting to the side, you scrambled headlong into the treeline, leaving them yelling after you as though it would stop you. Following their chorus of swears came the crunching of leaves and twigs as they trampled the ground behind you. Trying to part the way with your forearms up over your face, you ignored the thin vines and branches that scraped your skin.

Blindly running, you had no idea where you were going and sharply veered to the side to take a less predictable path. Stumbling forward, you caught yourself with one knee on the ground and your hand braced against a rough tree trunk. Holding your shaking breath, you listened for your pursuers but it was hard to hear anything over the rushing in your ears. It sounded like they had gone straight, that your turn might have helped...

Carefully, you pulled yourself to your feet, attempting to be quiet. Your chin quivered as the adrenaline caught up to you, railing against the painstakingly slow movements you were taking. As your heart hammered violently against your rib cage, you kept your panting to shallow sips of air and crept forward.

Your efforts didn't matter. Just as you came close to a clearing, thick arms wrapped around you from behind. Everything inside you screamed out, but you stayed silent as he growled. “Got you now, bitch.”

Dropping one foot back, you grabbed his elbow and bent forward, throwing yourself as hard as you could. He was too stunned to fight it as you pulled him with you, catching his side on your hip. His foot tripped on your shin, taking away his last chance of staying upright and he flipped onto his back in front of you, letting out a pained grunt.

It worked. Jason's relentless training worked.

The surprising victory was short-lived as you dropped your grip and started running. Suddenly, your face met the ground.

Blinking away the stars dancing over your vision, you turned back and saw his hand clamped over your ankle. His teeth seemed to glow in the dim light as he grinned and roughly yanked you back to him. Your body went on autopilot as you kicked your free leg at his face, grinding his nose under the heel of your boot.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Blood sprayed with each stomp, followed by the crunching, squelching sound of his broken nose being split open. His teeth didn't glow so much once they were coated in his dark blood.

Getting your feet under you, you didn't care how loud you were as you raced into the clearing. As you ran, you starting pulling a long, silver chain from around your neck. It was thicker than a decorative necklace so you kept it under your shirt, but it had been a good idea that Jason came up with. Or had gotten from Sookie, more likely.

Even though the assholes chasing you weren't vampires, the chain was solid enough to at least hurt if you whipped it hard enough. And you planned to.

Reaching the small clearing, you realized you didn't hear lumbering footsteps behind you. Not slowing, you scrambled to cross over to the trees on the opposite side. But before you dashed back into the bushes, an odd sound caught your attention. You couldn't help but freeze.

A rustle followed by a loud thud. And again. The sound got closer until the last one was just at the edge of the clearing where you kicked the man off you. But that time, you could hear a loud groan of pain. Something was very, very wrong.

Run.

A whooshing kicked up from behind as your feet came back to life and you dove forward. But the safety of the trees didn't get any closer. Distantly, you realized you weren't moving, your feet were just sliding on the grass. Something was holding you back.

Wrapping one end of the chain around your hand, you swung wildly as you turned. There was a blur and a hand caught your flailing wrist, the chain bouncing harmlessly off the sleeve of a leather jacket. The long, honey-blonde hair that framed your attacker's face didn't even stir at the unnatural motion. Looking up, you found yourself staring into piercing blue eyes before they dropped to the chain still swinging against the fabric.

Snapping back to you, with a high arch of the eyebrow, the memorizing eyes dulled with irritation. It took your scrambling mind a few seconds to realize who was holding you, frowning as though you were a child having a tantrum.

Pam.

Her grip was unyielding as she spoke over her shoulder. “Eric, if your pet burns me with silver...we won't have to worry about saving her anymore.”

“S-saving me? From...from those guys?”

Snorting, Pam finally let you go as she rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Like I'd waste my time saving you from idiot, drunken locals.”

“Speaking of those idiot, drunken locals, Pam...you didn't kill any of them, did you? Because we can't afford an incident like that right now.” Eric's cool voice seemed to drift to you from somewhere behind the vampire staring you down.

Shrugging, she turned towards the voice. “I wasn't trying to.”

“Pam.”

“What? They'll probably be fine. Hell, I couldn't have hurt them any worse than Y/n did. Did you see him? He hardly had a nose left...”

Your insides clenched as the image of his blood-covered face flashed through your mind, and Pam's grin made it worse. When she glanced down at you, there was even a hint of pride in her stare. It took everything you had left to force the bile back down your throat.

"Go get Chow from Y/n's house and bring the car here. We need to get back to Fangtasia." Apparently, they expected you to get a ride home as well.

Pam's smirk dropped, but she didn't argue. In a blur, she disappeared, leaving Eric standing before you. His eyebrows rose as he frowned. It almost looked apologetic, but you knew that couldn't be right.

Swallowing heavily, you desperately tried to stop your mind from reeling. Everything was a frenzied mess and you couldn't tell if you were relieved or angry to see his icy eyes drinking you in as he stood a few feet away.

“I suppose you expect me to be grateful or some shit?”

Your fire carved out a deep grin on his lips and...unless you were delusional..a similar look of pride to Pam's. But when he spoke, his voice was as dispassionate. “I only expect you to get in the car. As I said, we need to get back to Fangtasia.”

“A-as...as you said? Y-you haven't said anything! You cause this entire shit storm and then just start bossing me around?” The words sputtered out as you struggled to grasp any of your racing thoughts.

Blinking, Eric spread his hands apart, looking the part of the confused and innocent man. "I've spent this entire night trying to help you, at a great personal inconvenience I might add."

The chain rattled lightly as you balled your hands into tight fists. “None of this would have happened if you hadn't just shown up like that! What did you think would happen if you singled me out in front of a bunch of small-minded bigots?”

Stepping closer, he titled his head as a faint furrow traced a light line between his eyes. “And so you expect to keep this a secret? How well do you think that will work?”

Taking a subconscious step back, you thought you caught a fleeting look of disappointment flashing across his features. It stabbed at you. "I-I...this...This? What even is this​?”

Straightening, he turned his head slightly, as though he caught a distant noise that you had no hope of hearing. “At the moment? More of a problem for you than you realize.”

A thin layer of confusion rolled through you, forcing you into a sudden stillness. It wasn't the answer you were expecting. Even your voice grew softer. “Look...I'm sorry for how I reacted at Merlotte's but-”

His face snapped back towards you, cutting you short with just his hard stare. “While I'm sure it's tearing you up inside, that's not what I'm talking about.”

The sarcasm cut as deeply as his earlier look of disappointment, but you stayed quiet.

“It seems the declaration I was pushed into, claiming you as mine, has painted a target on your back.”

Your mouth went dry, and you stumbled back another step. Within that second, all the bolstering strength you found in training to defend yourself simply dissolved. What were you in his world but a lamb being led to slaughter?

“I...I don't understand?" Had there been even a slight breeze in the air, it would have swept your soft words away entirely.

Eric's cold features seemed to take on a mild hint of warmth as he moved towards you. His eyes bore into yours as he carefully set his hand on your arm. “I'll explain everything. But we need to go.”

Your gaze drifted past him, looking over the clearing. Somewhere in the trees laid several unconscious men. Bad men who were ready to do worse to someone they didn't even know. And yet, anyone passing by would have no idea. The world was still and calm. A quiet, deceptive lie in the soft light of the moon.

“Y/n, we need to leave. Now.”

Although his words had a trace of his usual, commanding tone, there was something subtly different. Almost like there was a plea buried deep in there. You both knew he could snatch you up and take you anywhere whether you wanted him to or not. And yet, there he was, asking you to see reason and make the choice to go with him.

A quiet confidence trickled through you, melting what was left of your anger. Things were changing and trying to keep fighting it was draining you to your core. Letting out a long sigh, you lowered the chain and stepped towards him, bumping your forehead against his chest. His heavy arm wrapped around your shoulder as you pulled yourself against him and finally nodded.

He gave a gentle squeeze before you pulled away and let him guide you from the clearing. “Good. Because we also have to get you cleaned up. You're a mess and we just can't have that.” 

That time, you were certain you saw a faint grin tug at the edge of his lips.

Taglist:  @foreverfaeries​  @flower-two​  @getlostinyourparadise​   @selfishkiddo​  @angelicshinigami​   @parkersbabey​  @thatchampagnebitch @mysteryoflovve  @edweirdoddlepot  @divadinag  @crazy-fandom-girl1  @givemeabite @breanime @shondlenoodle @hermionesalvatore84   @dyingformyships    @dreamers-wonderland @adriellej  @bitchader

[alias-b]

Nothing Lasts Forever.

Summary. The town of Derry changes people. Sends them running away. What it draws in is arguably worse. Humans create the hate and evil monsters come to feed off of. Eleanor Baker knew that well at a young age when she stumbled upon a painted figure in the distance. Pennywise never forgot the girl without fear. It’s possible that they haunted each other.

AN: I take no responsibility for this. Me flexing some horror and hopelessness bc I have nothing left to lose here. Wrote this to work through some things and sorta in love with it. TW: Should be obvious. Trauma. CSA mention. Abuse. S*xual references. G*re. S*icidal thoughts.  Death. Pennywise F*cks and it’s canon. Sorry, Mr. King.

Pennywise x OC Eleanor Baker ~ Also on my ao3

   They say she saw It first.

   They say she smelled the circus. Sugary sweet and the rusting of metal.

   They say she heard the bells toll soft. Once. Twice for her.

   They say she felt no fear.

   A branch cracked under pristine shoes, distracting a clown in the midst of hunt. The prey; small and blue eyed, barely five years old, ran into safe arms where their family set up camp for a weekend by the lake. 

   Body twisting around, It saw her last. Six years old. Curious green eyes shimmered even under grey skies. Pigtails. Feet behind her, father was hunched over to change a tire with mother beckoning from the window. Pulled over to the side of the road near a Derry forest. The Baker family. Well known and beloved because they had money.

   “Eleanor. You’ll ruin your new shoes. We can’t be late for your recital. It’s going to rain!” Mother’s voice went under heard. Leaves rustled while the clown made a path to slink toward her. Her lips parted, eyes fixated and unblinking. Yellow eyes faded to baby blue like the pretty jewels her mother wore. Safe.

   They were face to face. Drool dripped to hit her once untouched shoes. Those bejeweled eyes surged from that delicate blue back to a hungry orange, glowing brighter and yet he smelled nothing. 

   She had no scent. No fear. A deep, wide nothing. Vast as the ocean could reach. There was no advancing, no will to bring forth the deadlights. She’d probably think they were pretty stars watching over her. Cinderella wishing for a fairy godmother and a prince to whisk her away. He could only watch her make an utter fool of him. Somehow that charmed.

   “Eleanor, now!” Came the shout from her father. A drop of red emerged from the trees. Shiny and terrible. “Where did you get that?”

   A red balloon skimmed against the breeze.

   “From the clown.” She said, getting into the car. “He gave it to me.”

   “Enough playing around, Nell.” Father pressed her inside. The grip was lost along the tangled string. That spot of blood floated up toward the endless sky. Became a floating star too. She wished to float with it. 

   Eleanor danced her little heart out. Prima Ballerina in the making. Perfection was not everything, it was the only thing. She gazed into the audience beyond the balmy stage lights. Rows and rows of orange eyes. Glowing into her. No fear to be cast. Not for any of them. This world didn’t deserve it.

   She saw It again that same week. When they attended a big family reunion. Picnic and all. And her uncle pulled her into the closet full of coats and old board games that were gathering dust. He called this a game too. A secret game. 

   After he’d decided the game was over, a pang snatched his heart to squeeze. Gushing. Eleanor saw those glowing eyes from the shadows. Thought for a moment it was the old cat who roamed the grounds.

   Her uncle asked for help with no breaths left. Tore her frilly dress clutching at her. Hit the hardwood with a finishing crack. Blood pooled.

   Nell didn’t want it to stain her shoes or Mother would be upset.

   That white face bent down toward her. Spine curving to push out against skin. Utterly inhuman.

   “Can you smell the circus, Nelly?” Painted lips full of clustering teeth rumbled. She blinked. White cheeks threatened to tear open with the grin curling.

   “Yes.”

   Little, pretty bells chimed in the ruffles of his garment as he laughed. Soft and sweeter than any sound in this world.

   "Who are you?"

   "Pennywise. The dancing clown." He caught her looking at the body behind his feet.

   Big eyes full and empty.

   “Oh, don’t worry about him, he won’t float.” The clown paused. “You’re a little wonder, aren’t you?”

   She said nothing to that.

   “Go on, grow and see if the world devours you. Tumble back to the weeds where I'll find you again.” His own curiosity was a growing sickness. This fragile human. Unbreakable. 

   The thing about Pennywise was he never considered himself the villain. He only came to feed when that evil and hatred humans brought this world was potent. Natural order. Clockwork. Wolves feed on sheep. The worlds spun on.

   Predators tore into prey, he wouldn’t apologize for that. He didn’t create the hatred, just fed from it. Didn't stop it either. Little dash of fear did a body good. Gave it a sweeter taste.

   Fear was painfully human. A trait that tore us open to display the soft underbelly because it betrayed us down to the core. Granted us something to overcome. A test of endurance. Truly let our true colors pour fresh and obscene. Beautiful. Even when it overcame.

   Pennywise gave her head a pat, leaned down to whisper into her ear.

   “I see into your blackest heart of hearts, Nelly, deep down you’ll know. You'll always know.”

   The door opened. Tiny footsteps away from the dark and the figure there always watching her. Like the stars above in a black sky.

   “You’ll know.”

   Eleanor walked downstairs. Out into the sunny day full of festivities and family. Asked her aunt for another piece of cake. Frosted with yellow buttercream flowers. They discovered her uncle in that closet at the same time the flies found him too.

   They found the cloth clutched into his meaty, stiff hand and began to ask questions. She didn’t want to talk about the secret games he played when she was in that house. They sent a bolt of thunder rattling into her brain. Unraveled the synapses.

   Her mother burned the cloth. Vowed to never speak of it in hopes she would forget. Children forgot things all the time.

   Nell never forgot. Not for a moment. Not her uncle or her festering relatives who seemed to easily put her in the back of their memories.

   She wanted them to always remember too. If anything, they owed her that much.

   The pictures her mind fleshed out with crayons were not what children should be drawing. Twisted bodies sometimes. Other days, it was those eyes. Molten lava. Mother and father decided this wasn’t something they could deal with. Seeing her looking so still and motionless around the house like a ghost was too much. Knowing they failed their daughter was just too much. A lock clicked.

   They put her in a place that watched over mistakes of all ages from rich families. Paid it well. They told Eleanor it wasn’t her fault and yet, she was the one locked away in a tower for it. She was the one ignored and doped up.

   Ten years and she gave them nothing. Years of homeschooling. Counseling. Medications. Years of sticking her tongue out to swear she’d swallowed her pills. Years of giving them nothing. No laughter or tears. She never hurt a fly and she was the monster.

   Sometimes, it was easier to become the monster they wanted, she supposed.

   Eleanor got out and married the first man who smiled at her. Called her pretty. Just to be away from mother and father. They’d rot in the weeds soon enough. The rest of her family dwindled. Terrible accidents. She vowed to never reproduce to spite them.

   Husband played games too when dinner wasn’t just right or when she dressed just a little against his wishes. Seven miscarriages. Too many broken promises. A car accident pulled his body apart. Left her with some money to return home. 

   Mother and father needed her now, sick and dying in their lavish beds. Life always went on in Derry. Father went still snug in his tomb a month later. Few more weeks and mother’s harsh insults became apologies.

   This girl she ignored was all she had left.

   “Nell, I hope you can forgive us.” Her mother croaked one day.

   “You’re free to do that, mama.” She’d turned and came to sit on the bed.

   “Do what, my dear?”

   “Hope.” Eleanor tucked some brittle hair from mother’s face. Made room for the pillow she pushed into place. Eight minutes and it was over. Twenty seven years and members of her family dropped like flies. She told herself it was a curse. Or fate.

   Bloodlines dying had never been so beautiful. Not built to last forever. Not at all. There was justice in that much.

   Both Eleanor’s parents became ashes in two ornate urns. She drove them out to the Barrens and poured them into the festering waters. Stinking of Derry’s rotten bowels. Wind swept. Picking up green and brown leaves. Wading the waters to give them some appearance of peace.

   Nell didn’t smell the stink of death. She smelt the circus. Hot buttery popcorn and cotton candy. Twang of metal from the old, rusted rides whirling all directions. A child’s laughter echoed out from the giant pipe ahead. Covered in sludge and moss. 

   She followed the lively sounds. Enticed. No long holding to this world. Another one awaited. It always had. Marked with two glowing orange eyes.

   Reminded her of the lights twinkling every Halloween. Jack-o-lanterns you couldn’t blow out before midnight because it was against the rules and would bring you bad luck.

   Through watery rot and dead leaves, Nell went into the pipes. Caught glimmers of light between cracks. Felt her way. Heard the uttering of the seven children she lost beckoning her home.

   Down.

   Down.

   Down.

   Ruined her clothes in the trance. Clawing for more because the world couldn’t hope to deliver. Into a massive nest with a skylight. Candlelight danced. She heard the trill of a music box until the room came alive. Whirled from rust and rot to marble and gold.

   Prettier than her wedding day. A church with decorated pews of red taffeta. White roses hanging from every corner. Petals crying into the cherry wood floors.

   A man smiled at her who wasn’t Husband. Sharp, brooding face. Swept brown locks slicked like Clark Gable. Pink lips curled and crystalline eyes gave a twinkle. A white suit and one red rose at his breast.

   She came to him when he reached. Body heavier because a dress dragged behind her. Full skirt of those same delicate white roses. Tight bodice that twinkled under candlelight. Nell smiled too. Utterly lost and found all at once in this room that smelled like decadent caramel apples. 

   A gloved hand curled into hers.

   “Am I dead?” She asked.

   “Oh, yes. For twenty seven years now. You wandered the Earth. But, you're home now.” That voice. All shivers. Chilling until the candles started to snuff out. “That was not life, Nelly. You existed by a thread.”

   “Nelly.” She mused in her deepest dream of dreams. The hate and the neglect and the sheer evil brought by humans who were supposed love and protect instead tore her soul far asunder.

   The man leaned in near her hair. Inhaled.

   “Nothing. Even still.” He recounted the memories. All those times he tried and failed to devour her. “Little wonder.”

   "Pennywise." She puffed, barely audible.

   “I watched you dance. All those years. You can dance down here too in the dark."

   Nell realized as he brought her out for a romantic spin. She’d been seeking him out all her life. All the decay and twisting vines in her soul. Begging to just cross over and stop this pain. But, he wouldn’t finish it because she had no fear. So she danced until the room began to peel. He wiped his cheek on one sleeve. Peachy makeup smeared the fabric to display that red smile upon white skin. 

   She pushed off him. Watched blood rain and melt the rest of it away. This place. A nest. A stomach. A pile of trash and metal twisted up toward the sky. Gouging. Figures floating around it. Waiting. Sleeping soundly because evil couldn’t touch them anymore. At the very least. They fueled something brand new.

   No cry. No scream. Nell succumbed. Stumbling back into a worn mattress as the clown crawled up toward her at some inhuman speed. Slapped his hands on either side of her head. They just breathed.

   Existed together in one space.

   Sometimes good and bravery didn’t blossom from overcoming fear. Sometimes you still wanted to die because enduring a lifelong ache was not growth. It just hurt. There was power in it, but it fucking ached.

   It burned. Plenty of things in her life burned. The scorn of her parents. Her uncle's games. The rotten nurses tossing her around. Husband's hands indenting skin.

   But, Pennywise didn’t. He just showed up to watch the fires grow hot and breathless into a black sky. The terrible view was still a breathtaking thing. Something shattering to become a supernova. Rebirth.

   Enduring pain was worth it. That sick curiosity that there was something more to life. It was worth it. So, fight. Endure. Ache. Be human while you have the chance in an inhuman world because it needs you.

   Gloves opened her dress. Tore layers of tulle and chiffon. Slashed silk. Hands pressed against his chest. Not pushing or pulling. Just holding. Shifting over thick, stitched cotton. Ruffles swayed. She felt a heart beat so hard there under her palm.

   He was alive. Something brand new. Not of this world.

   “Am I like you?” She begged finally. Years of searching and asking why. He stopped to see her green eyes. Glowered. One blue, one orange.

   “Not yet.” Was the truest answer he could form. Fingers gripped his fabric sleeves. Twisted just to hold onto something tangible for the first time in all her existence. Alive at last in this place. Water droplets echoed distantly. “You cannot last forever. Nothing lasts forever.”

   Except love, she thought. Except desire.

   Pennywise seemed to hear it even still. Felt the truth of it carve out his heart that was still beating powerfully. Profoundly.

   Something flayed her open. Pushed inside. Made her moan deliciously until two gloved fingers touched her mouth. Bodies connecting. Moving together.

   There were hands everywhere. Stroking soft caresses up and down her naked flesh. It felt like a million little pieces of candlelight were swirling up her body. Those same orbs that had been following her around for too many years shined behind his eyes. Resonated. Beautiful.

   She made out parts of him between thumps. Orange hair. Pristine paint. His mouth on her skin. A heart that was pumping vigorously. Low rumbling growls. Nell felt she’d been starved all her life and was finally feeding. Finally letting the ache flood out that she’d held onto for too long. Finally alive. Feeling. Deep down and drawing in it.

   Her voice came to beg for more of him. Hands grasping to touch him back. To delve into this earth and just feel. He touched her everywhere. Lips and neck. Down her breasts. Between spread legs.

   The combined sensations made her cry out for him to never stop. A gloved hand on her jaw brought their eyes together. Hot, wet touch. Boiling. The peak shattered them both. Nell fell to shuddering pieces. Curved up. Moaning and shameless. Weight fell into her body so lips could touch her own. Once. Just once while they were warm.

   Pennywise lifted off fully to see her eyes. Inhaled again and got what he’d sought too. Years and it was finally there.

   Those green eyes glimmered at him. A waft of sweet candied apples bubbled with heat. Fear. Clear as a crystal, dewy morning. It was the most beautiful thing in the world.

   There was finally something found that could be lost. Something she sought out and held and hoped for.

   And the fear of losing it was almost too much to bear.

   One gloved finger caught a tear that trickled out from the corner of her eyes.

   “Please.” She said, unable to find much else. Like she wanted him and nothing else for the rest of these long days. Do it. Just do it. Nell’s hand lifted. Gentle fingers drew lines along his face. "Pennywise. Please."

   It was a soft prayer.

   He lunged down. Sunk teeth into her tender neck. Tore the scream out before she could hope to give it. Nell choked there. Made an odd sound like she was laughing. It bubbled. Claws grew out from those gloves. Shoved forth into her raging heart. 

   A squelch.

   Her lips were still upturned when it was done. Green eyes pointed on him. Peaceful and bloodied. Naked under the moonlight. Dripping rubies.

   He tossed his head back and wailed. Teeth sharp and bared. Bloodied. Lost. A shattering sound that bent time and space apart. Pennywise plucked her up. Climbed high and vast to the very top of the twisting pile. Watched the dead children float like little falling stars. Something to make wishes upon. Peaceful for only a second in this life.

   He placed her there in a sheer drape. Closed her eyes. Let the deadlights swelter above them. Spinning all directions. 

   A scar thickened.

   Three days passed. The deadlights danced high and wide. Fluttering like a swarm of butterflies. The world spun on a new axis. Pennywise sat below upon his stage. Curved over in wait. Marble statue. 

   A low rumble like a purr erupted. Dainty feet came to him with a newfound grace. Little dancer. Deadly ballerina all porcelain and blushed. Blood red shoes made soft taps across the stage.

   A white hand touched his shoulder. His little wonder. Bells tolled distantly three times.

   “Can you smell the circus?” Her voice poured white hot. Purring louder so he'd feel it vibrate his own chest.

   Lips curled wide. Split. Pennywise rose to see her in the light. Perfection. Those green eyes shimmering like emeralds. Haunted. Totally alive and willing.

   “Yes.” He hissed. Cupping her face to see the angles. Not ruining the permanent brushstrokes that came with her rebirth. “Yes, I do.” A bond struck.

   I do. I promise. We'll float. Always.

   Nell smiled to match him. Totally and irrevocably his equal. A pulse of light drew them together. She granted him a single kiss, tasting candied. A new horror in this world hungry for the evil it would always bring.

   “We were built to last forever.”

[werezmastarbucks]

Blunt hook

Kai Parker x fem!reader smut

gif not mine

that’s like the first and the last smut I ever write ugh yeet

also I wrote this very cool thing on psychological analysis of Kai’s head bugs. check it out, it’s on my main blog. I love it.

word count: 2788

choking (light), fingering, dom!Kai, female reader

The reader had helped Kai escape hell, so now he’s trying to get her to side with him in everything else, too. However, Y/N is too stubborn, and not afraid of physical pain. Thank f*ck Kai always has a plan B.

The sky was full of Perseids and sound. Kai was taking his time and never hurried himself, but still found it was rather curious how long it takes to get used to a new form of living. Every. Damn. Time. It’s been a couple of months since he got out of hell, and every single day now he was amazed, unmistakably, by the air. I mean, can you imagine? It actually flows right into your nose and then down your throat or whatever. And it tastes so good! Being a vampire sure enhanced all the sensations, too. He was practically happy every day, agitated, even. The only thing was…

He shrugged, distracting himself from the stars and the comets flying ahead in white blinding flashes. What a beauty, he thought, what an unexpected beauty he thought he could never appreciate.

Then he saw her. And the idea came to him. All he needed at this point of being out of hell was a tiny little detail for the ascendant. It was maddening to think that virtually everything he needed was in his hands, except for this teeny-tiny metal hook less than a pinky nail in size, shiny and blunt. Without it, he could not travel back to the prison world. Without it, he could not get the reaper out. Without it, the devil would not let go of him and let him be. And the Boring Faces took it away from him. How insensitive of them not to take his lust for life into consideration.

But her. She might be of use and help. She went out of her way to open the gates of hell to let him crawl out. She went through being tortured, which means he won’t get anything out of her by inflicting pain. Kai had something on his mind though; she was wearing a dress.

Y/N was standing with her head tilted back, almost falling, looking at the cluster of the burning comets shooting through the horizontal line.

A light gust of wind brushed her hair, and then a hand grabbed her by the forearm. Y/N swayed, but managed to stay on her feet, and then she was pulled aside. Kai shot her a mad glance and walked, casually but fast, and she had nothing else to do but follow him, trying to move her feet as quick as possible.

Stalling would take a considerable amount of wit, so she started thinking right away, clutching her purse out of nervousness. Nobody considered her feeling for this nut job. Nobody. N/Y, hold him off as long as you can, but no sweat. Forget what you’ve gone through for him and lie to his face while we betray him yet again. Just stay here between the two flames, nothing special.

She sighed, trying to wiggle out of Kai’s grab, because his fingers bit into her flesh like burning coals. Kai looked back at her, dropping speed a little bit, but his eyes said nothing.

“What?” she gasped, trying to loosen his fingers. Kai didn’t give in, dragging her on towards the shade of trees. People were stepping away politely as they walked, like none of this seemed strange to them. Y/N finally levelled with Kai, but he still didn’t let go of her arm, clutching on her like she could vanish in thin air.

“Talk”, he commanded, throwing her to the side of a tree. He looked out from the shadow, making sure all the lights and the babbling people were left aside, blind to their conversation here. Their noise was still nearly unbearable, but Kai was getting better at focusing every day.

She caught herself, pressing her back to the trunk of a birch tree, and held onto it. Kai’s face as white in the shade, silvered by the faint moonlight and the rare specks of golden light from the bonfires. His eyes seemed completely black, the pupils enlarged, like he was on the verge of screaming form all the smells, and sounds, and the most of all, impatience.

“Start talking, Y/N. Where is it?”

“I don’t know what you’re on about”, she tried to make her smile seem innocent and failed, unable to hide the slow excitement that was rising in her. That. That is why she’s completely useless in things like that. She already forgot where they hid the dam detail even if she knew.

Kai grabbed on her purse, pulling on the strap. She barely managed to bend her head to let it slide off her shoulders. One second later, and she would’ve been choked, or beheaded. The vampire opened her handbag, thrashing it with sharp movements. She let out a giggle as he threw it aside, half empty.

Blood ran to her face as the vampire stepped up, closing a shadow on her. His arm flew up and rested on the trunk just above her head, and she felt comfortably caged. Kai licked his lips, trying to hold from acting right away, trying to come up with the most gracious way to get it out.

“Damon and his brother, they hid the last detail from my ascendant”, Kai elaborated,

“Come on, Y/N you know well what I’m talking about. Don’t make me hurt you”, he stared deep into her eyes like a snake charmer.

“I don’t actually want to hurt you”.

“I don’t know where it is, Kai. They don’t tell me. They know…”

Y/N paused, wondering if he could hear her heartbeat. Of course, he could. Irregular, quick, like a little puppy jumping and twisting in her chest, sending bright sparkles to her eyes, because she just can’t hide how much fun this all is. When fear goes away, there’s just fun.

Kai felt, this was the moment she could say something. He shifted; stooping above her, cupping her face with his palms. Soft hair was brushing the backs of his hands as he held her, pleading:

“They know you don’t want me to go back. Right? You don’t want me to go back to hell, do you, Y/N?”

She smiled sheepishly, thinking, what a bastard. He is one manipulative bastard with his blackish eyes and his perfect American chin. He tilted his head like a robot, knowing that was his best angle. Nothing worked. Kai felt her warmth, the hot spasms coming out of her skin, her desire was so obvious it was ridiculous, and yet she stood there, immovable like he didn’t matter. She was good, this one, stamina like a real fighter. Well, he guessed, torture and being alone for some time does that to people. Their skin touched and yet nothing happened, although he could practically hear her insides warming up, he could see the pupils of her eyes widening hungrily, and it made him feel weird, like he was hungry, too.

Y/N kept silent, thinking that would drive him mad enough out of a simple reason. She didn’t really have a plan. After all this is done, she thought, I’m moving the hell out of this cursed hole. She was as tired of the Boring Faces as Kai was, she just hid it better.

“Well”, his face hardened as his hands let go of her face. Kai looked at her, familiar violent glimmering dancing in his eyes. It was hard to tell in the dark whether he was smiling or grimacing. Maybe it was time to run, she couldn’t tell. Before she could decide anything, his whisper cut her ears like a razor.

“Maybe you’re hiding it somewhere here. Under your dress”.

Then his hand slid down so quickly she only felt it when it already was on her left thigh. Warm finger caressed her skin lightly, tracing its way up, until his palm lurked under the skirt. Y/N’s brain screamed: that feels not bad at all. Evident attractiveness of this undead heretic was burning her eyes. She was torn between staying prideful and keeping him at her side – for whatever reasons.

“Why aren’t you fighting me?” his voice brushed her face, she could almost taste its timbre. She bit her lower lip from the inside not to blurt out anything. Let him entertain himself, she’s not going to do his work. This man, this crazy type in front of her, manipulative, always with a plan, awoke a feeling in her, a desire to stand up to him, even if in this weird, submissive way. Well, she’ll figure that out, she thought. It’ll all unfold by itself. Right now, she just knew, she wouldn’t brush his arms off, no matter what he does, or how hard he does it.

Kai gasped comically.

“Are you my distraction?”

A boyish, excited smile brightened his face. It lit with amusement and anticipation.

“What am I supposed to be distracting you from?” Y/N asked in a thin voice.

“Bae, everything”, he blurted readily.

His palm moved just as his eyes narrowed again. There was a shift in his mood. Like a kitten, that’s too young, he really did get distracted. The ascendant detail is important, sure. But there’s this one, propped up against a tree, and he’s curious as to why she’s not running, not giving in. She’s just smirking, almost brave enough to show him what she really wants. Fortunately, he can almost read her mind.

There was hunger inside of him, not only for blood, but an eerie sensation of dryness in is throat; the light-headedness when he realized he’s watching Y/N, but she doesn’t see him. When he’s just an invisible observer, and all she does is his by all means. Being in the crowd, really stop seeing people. Kai did the opposite, and he chose her. If you rid yourself of self a little bit – excuse the pun – you’re free to watch whoever you want. Kai’s seen way more than anybody else. The tip of her tongue snaking in the corner of her mouth, and the curves of her hips as she walked, the wild glimmering in the corners of her eyes. The slender fingers crooking on her cheeks, caressing her own neck. The softness of the earlobe pierced by the golden earring. The thin delicate skin on the inside of her elbow. Her cocky posture, ever-ironic grin letting out deep sigh of her tired, unamused voice.

The hidden soul of that girl was not pure. She was not pure. Kai was wondering if he’d contributed to that.

His hand touched the fabric of her underwear, and he felt comfortable. He pressed his thumb on her pubic bone, wondering, how hard would be too hard.

“Hands on the tree”, he ordered, and her palms were glued to the trunk in a second. Y/N pushed her back against it, trying to move as little as possible. Her thighs moved forward as she leaned backwards, the wings of her shoulder blades colliding with the tree. Kai towered over her like a leopard over a cheetah cub.

“Let’s see if it’s there, do you mind?” he murmured, and Y/N bumped the back of her head against the hard trunk. His fingers pulled her panties down and pressed on her clit persistently. Y/N neck went hot. Kai watched carefully as her nostrils flared a little, like he didn’t know what he’s doing, like it was something alien he was touching. He was trying to figure out the connection between the hunger he was experiencing, and the warm, welcoming wetness of the inside of her. Y/N was thinking about how smooth his skin was. It was so fucking smooth, seemingly perfect to touch. She opened her mouth to say something, but Kai’s other hand immediately pressed on her face, covering her mouth.

“Nah-uh. Keep quiet. Do as I say”.

He made himself horny saying that. He didn’t expect these words out of his own mouth, just as his fingers slid inside of her, and he felt Y/N sucking on the air from underneath his palm. She tried to bite the skin lightly, but swayed, obedient, never looking away. Kai’s eyes were dark and calm, like oceans of Malivore, hypnotizing, eyes with a trace of tragic smile deep inside.

Y/N wanted so bad to raise her hands and weave them around his neck, to hang herself onto him, shifting all the weight, and ride his hand. Keeping still made all her muscles sing a tense melody of pain, making pleasure all the more even, sending it like sharp flashes of color all down her body. She begged to god that she wasn’t shaking, because she really couldn’t tell anymore; she was throwing all her might into not moaning as his three fingers were moving inside, rubbing the sensitive skin, sliding in and out, pinching and pulling. Her right knee gave in, and she swayed again, nails clawing into the bark; Kai took his palm off her mouth and wrapped it around the girl’s throat; her whole neck went into his fist like it was carved for it. He propped her up and squeezed her throat, lightly first, then tighter and tighter, until her mouth opened a little, and his own jaws separated as he looked inside. His tongue pressed against his canines violently, bursting the tip of it and bleeding into his mouth. The hot blood pumped into his face and nose, and he grabbed her by the clit, immersing his fingers inside down to the first knuckles. He was fucking her, they both realized, with his hand, and that was one way to do it. Y/N propelled her hips, giving in to her own screaming body, because that movement was the only one she could think of. The ultimate goal of that one moment was to string herself onto his hand, deeper, deeper, harder, so that he could destroy her, tear her apart.

Kai loosened his hand on her throat just a little, to hear her whimper as her eyes rolled. Biting shiver shot through Y/N’s body, but she was glad to see she stood; trunk of the birch tree was hurting her head, so she tilted it forward a little and gasped for air as Kai’s hand let go of her. Both his hands, to be precise. He rubbed his right hand on Y/N’s thigh, leaving a hot trace of cum on her skin in gentle touches. He couldn’t help tracing the sharp bone of her hip, drawing circles around the tip absent-mindedly. The only way he could now relieve himself was to grab and squeeze her hip possessively, making her groan softly. There was supposed to be hurt. He usually hurt someone as a result of… the process. The normal pattern of events was him standing with his hands covered in thick dark blood in the end of the picture, gratified deeply by the seizing screams, calming his beast down. Pain. Was it something like that? Kai looked deep into her face and read her. He saw that orgasm was pretty much like physical pain, only, it made her show her teeth in a smile.

It was over, Y/N figured; blood was pumping in her ears, and even if he said something, she couldn’t hear. She wrapped her hands around Kai’s neck and rested on him, locking her fingers on the short, soft hairs on the back of his head. Just for a moment, he’s going to belong to her, while he’s whispering his hot threats in her ear. His voice, the scent, the breadth of his shoulders – all hers, just for now, as he’s holding her against this very tree.

“Come on now, Y/N”.

Kai knew he had like three seconds to slither inside of her mind while she’s fragile. While she’s messed up, sweet smell of pleasure and indolence pouring out of her like a syrup; he could as well just lick it off her skin.

“Where is it? Where is it”, he pressed his face against hers, listening to her deep, erratic breathing. He was keeping up with his own noise, confused by the sudden outburst of eagerness and a boner. He had to be focused, but he couldn’t but admire a little this oily, feminine beauty. Her wrists pulsating with blood were so close to his face the smell flooded him.

The bravery of her, though, as she lifted her face and looked him in the eye. Pupils expanded, glistening with lust and mischief. She said:

“I really don’t know. Why don’t you try it with you mouth next?”

The smile curling her lips made the groan wake in the depths of his chest. Kai let the hot air out of his nose, clenching his jaws. He brushed off Y/N’s arms, pushing away, and stepped out of the shadows with an audible roar. The sound of her laughter was ringing in his ears.  

[kpopchangedme]

In-Depth | Jackson Wang [M]

Ambushing Jackson in the locker room for an interview was a bad idea. Now you might find out why his talents outside the basketball court are also praised by the masses...

Protagonists: Jackson Wang & You

Word Count: 3,4k

Genre: NSFW - F*ck Boy - University - Strangers - SMUT - [Drabble 2k]

Prompts: “Oh yeah, and what are you going to do about it?” + “Don’t touch what’s not yours”

**explicit content* *dirty talk* *female oral* *unprotected intercourse (DON’T)* *worship* *breath play* *what has my life become**

Requested by: @wangslut7 J’espère que tu vas aimer, je me suis un peu emportée... ;)))) and it turned really steamy...

GOT7 | M.list

The man frowns walking in but barely slows down. You keep a wiped clean expression when his eyes detail you, sitting on the counter, wearing a long skirt and summer blouse. Your heart still skips a beat though, betraying your professional intentions. Glistening with sweat, Jackson Wang throws his gym bag on a wooden bench, still staring at you like you’re an apparition. It’s because you don’t fit in, shouldn’t be in a men’s locker room at 6 AM, but you intended that as a mind trick. Showing up at an unexpected place to get a scoop or an interesting interview… And Lord knows Jackson owes you one. He’s been blowing off your university newspaper for months; not showing up at scheduled interviews and avoiding the usual questions after a big game.

“Were you this desperate to see me naked?” He quirks a brow, flexing his bicep as he throws open his locker. There’s no question, he remembers what you’re here for, but it’s typical behaviour coming from him. You try to avoid noticing how his damp tank top clings to his back muscles but fail. In the end, your eyes drop to the safety of the notepad resting on your thighs.

“Is it true that your mother used to wake you up at 5 in the morning every day for stretching exercises?”

“Is that how you found me?” The hot player scoffs slightly deterred. “You know I don’t talk about my mother.”

“It’s alright,” you scribble something, unaffected by his coldness since you expected this reaction, “I already talked to her last Friday. Amazing lady, very nice and proud of you.”

His jaw clenches, “The game where I scored over 60 points? Write about that.”

“Everyone knows about that…” You reply confidently, holding his gaze. “I want to write something substantial, an in-depth interview about the real Jackson Wang.”

“Really?” A dangerous smile suddenly stretches Jackson’s face. “If I knew you wanted to have me deep, I would’ve made us happened sooner.” This doesn’t even make you flinch. Wang has a reputation, apparently, plenty of girls want an extensive experience with a self-obsessed Point Guard. He’s hot, you aren’t blind. Now that you’re standing alone in the same room as him, you can totally relate. You blink, trying to mask the effect the man has on you. “What’s your name, doll?”

Fricking. Doll.

“You’ve been told many times, but I guess you’re forgetful when women talk.”

“You’re smart,” Jackson chuckles, taking his sticky tank top off. You concentrate on his face, not letting your eyes wander lower on his ripped body. He’d like that way too much… And maybe you would too. “Join me in the shower, promise I’ll never forget you again.”

“Y/n, for the Uni’ paper. Remember it.” You nervously replace a strand of hair that went astray behind your ear. Suddenly the room feels very warm. “Do you have any favourite Chinese restaurants in town where a fan might run into you?”

“Are you always so frigid, doll? I could help with that.” Unphased, Jackson slips his fingers in the waistband of his gym shorts, sliding them down his thighs and calves in one swift go. Jesus, his briefs are gone too. Your whole face burns at his exposure, but he doesn’t seem embarrassed at all. He grins, observing your shyness and walks up to you. Instinctively, you press your back against the wall and your thighs together.

He attempts to steal your notebook, but you hiss like an animal, clutching to it and staring at the ceiling; “Don’t touch what’s not yours.”

“Feisty,” Jackson licks his lips, scrutinizing you, “I’m a traditional man... I’ll take you to my favourite place if you shower with me.”

You make the mistake of inhaling through your nose, he’s close now but you had not realized he was also in the air all around you. The manly scent of his sweat and skin is arousing, mind-numbing, you can almost taste him. Shit. Lord knows you aren’t made of stone. Being in the same room as a hot naked man is a bit much for your brain, especially if he’s hitting on you. Ambushing Jackson was a bad idea after all. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” The player’s gaze slide on your neck to the little triangle of bare skin in the middle of your chest. There’s nothing impressing there to see but still, he exhales softly, like he’s affected. “Or are you a good good girl, y/n?”

“I ask the questions,” you try one last time to sound convincing and get him to focus on the interview. “You’re naked.”

Ok, not a question.

“Oh yeah,” Jackson steps even closer, trapping you on the counter. His tanned shoulders glimmer rendered sticky by dried sweat from his morning training. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

Fuck. People were right.

He’s dangerous, he has that little something that makes you lose your mind and go full-on primal. Your second mistake is to look down at his body. Until now you had managed to concentrate on his dark brown eyes or your surroundings.

Of course, Jackson Wang is ripped like a god, every muscle under his honey-toned skin shaped to perfection. When you see his already half-hard dick something in your lower stomach pinches violently. Screw the interview. You fell into your own trap this morning.

“You don’t look like you have a boyfriend,” he muses, unbothered by your silence. His right hand brushes your ankle, decidedly climbing your calf to your thigh under your skirt, leaving your skin electrified at the touch. It stops behind your knee. “You look like you’re imagining me fucking you raw on that counter.” Your breath hitches as he roughly pulls your leg until you’re against him. Instinctively your arms wrap around his bare shoulders to stay straight and he presses into your clothes. “Am I right?”

“I-I’ve never done that before.” You hush in admittance, shutting both eyes and already giving up. That sounded like a promising offer. Jackson Wang’s talents outside the court are also praised by the masses. You’re too turned on to care about his fuck boy ways or your interview anymore. You bet a guy like him and a girl like you isn’t the most unexpected thing to happen in this locker room.

“Of course, you haven’t,” Jackson chuckles lowly before kissing your throat, “But do you want to now?”

It’s not like you’ll see him again and to be honest you’ve been thinking about it since the first time you saw him. “Yes.” You don’t hang with the same crowd, might as well have fun with him.

Immediately, his hand climbs back under your skirt, reaching your panties only to get rid of them. “You’re such a good girl,” Jackson muses, not slowing down, “so open for me...” His voice is huskier than before, and you cling to him when his fingers meet your folds.

Your eyes open into his and you read his surprise at your wetness. You grind closer to his hand, craving friction and Jackson stares for a long second, frozen. Dropping your head in the crook of his neck, you repeat the motion and suck on his collarbone. He’s probably marvelling about how compliant you’re being. Should you have been playing hard to get? Thankfully he doesn’t seem to mind any longer and he exhales shakily, inserting his fingers inside you with ease. You smirk into his skin, he’s in for a joy ride, you’re full of surprises. You aren’t his usual type, just like he isn’t yours, but that doesn’t mean you are anything close to frigid.

“So wet,” He murmurs, curving his fingers and making you raise your pelvis, “you have the softest little pussy ever. Did you know that?” You grip his shoulders tighter, digging your nails in harshly. When you roll your hips forward to fuck his hand, Jackson laughs in disbelief. “Someone could walk in…”

“You’d better fuck me fast then.”

“Tsst,” he hisses in disappointment, shaking his head and claiming his hand back, “I didn’t become the best by half-assin’ things...”

“The best?” You curve a brow, observing as he suggestively licks his fingers clean.

“Yes, the best.” Jackson frowns, rolling up your skirt to expose you. He inhales sharply when he succeeds, “Such a pretty pussy, I bet it taste like heaven.” The words should feel cringey but with his low deep tone... It’s the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to you. The guys you usually hook up with would never dare do anything like that anyway.

“Jesus.” You accidentally hit your head on the mirror in your back when Jackson presses a kiss on top of your pubis. He’s already going for it and he tugs at your legs again, pinning your ass down on the counter to allow himself better access. One of his thumbs digs your inner thigh while his other hand spreads your labia. “F-Fuck.” Jackson licks your cunt fully, lapping your juices off like it’s honey. You immediately fist his damp hair, holding to him.

“Delicious,” he groans, and your eyes roll back in your head. At the sound, you fell your insides tremble in answer. “I love to make good girls say dirty things…”

“J-Jackson,” you manage to get out haltingly as he teases you, stubble on his chin rubbing your private sensitive parts tortuously, “I’ll… die if someone walks in.”

“Why?” He chuckles, “You’re being so good right now...” He swirls his tongue on the bud of your clit and you cover your mouth to keep from embarrassing yourself. Ok, maybe this was the best damn decision of your entire life. Rumours were true, he is amazing at this. Your walls clench from pleasure when he inserts two fingers. Jackson builds you up easy and fast, sucking on your mound while his fingers curl and your hips jolt forward.

“Fuck!”

“So swollen, doll,” he hums in appreciation against your sex, “are you alright?”

“I-I…” You gasp for air, struggling to line up words that aren’t obscenities, but Jackson understands.

Your thighs are already shuddering of their own accord, out of control. He keeps working hard, circling, moving quickly. He’s relentless, tongue and hand merciless. Jackson keeps curving his fingers, holding your legs open with his whole body. You break after a particularly harsh suck on your clit and his fingers’ back and forth seems to hit something deeper buried inside of you. You come apart, crying out. Shivers run on your spine and goosebumps spread on your skin. Jackson holds you down as you jolt forward in ecstasy. His mouth remains, licking your sex clean of your arousal squirting out. When he finally stands, it’s only because you’re so overpowered you must push him back. You might come again right away if he keeps this up.

“Shit...” You curse, hand on your chest to calm your heartbeat. Your whole body feels numb and heavy. Jackson stares at you in awe, almost like he’s the one who just came. You never orgasmed that intensely with anyone before. What the hell just happened?

“Wow.” He breathes out, looking at you with round eyes instead of his usual smug smirk.

He’s also a wreck, full wet lips and messy hair sticking up in the air. When a man eats pussy like that, it’s clear he deserves to be praise to the skies. You can’t resist and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a first kiss. Jackson follows, crashing his mouth on yours without any restraint. Your tongues meet rudely, you’re both way past caring about being decent anymore. Eager, one of your hands runs down his tone body to get a hold of his erected dick. Jackson lets you work your magic, too busy kissing you and caressing your thighs to care. Your fingers course on his burning sticky skin, taking their time to graze his pecks, abs, sliding on his back to explore the muscles of his ass. When you finally take him in your palm, he instantly groans, snuggling closer. Amused, you stroke him a few times, smearing his precum with your thumb.

“I think you promised to fuck me…” You say although you aren’t sure you can take it anymore and he pauses his kissing, pulling back.

“Get down,” Jackson orders darkly, making a shiver of excitation run down your back. You obey, sliding down the counter to stand in front of him on your wobbly legs. If someone was to come in right now, they’d wonder what he’s doing naked when you are still fully clothed. Jackson presses a kiss on your lips one last time before spinning you towards the counter. Obediently, you bend over, staring at him in the mirror as he lifts your skirt again, taking his time. “Fuck, you have the best ass... Why hide it?” Jackson stops to firmly massage it with both hands, grunting and rolling his hips forward. His cock brushes your over-sensitive parts and you grip the counter, holding your breath for what’s to come. He doesn’t seem too stressed and keeps toying with your ass, rolling his palms to raise your cheeks and releasing your skin to watch them bounce.

“Jackson…” You bemoan and he meets your eyes in the mirror, a cocky grin plastered on. “F-Fuck me while I can still take it.”

He chuckles, pulling again until you’re practically bent in half. He rocks his hips, running his dick on your wetness and letting out a satisfied groan. “Don’t worry,” his jaw clenches in concentration as he aligns himself at your swollen entrance, “I’ll give you in-depth, one on one Jackson Wang, baby doll.”

You’re about to reply something snarky when he pushes in, making you forget whatever you were going to say. While one of his hands predictably stays on your ass, the other comes up to fist your hair. You arch, allowing him deeper. Jackson pulls back until his tip is almost completely out before thrusting forward powerfully. Unable to remain quiet, you cry when he fills you again, stretching your hypersensitive sex in the most delicious way.

“O-Oh, shit!” Jackson picks up a rough pace, fingers bruising your ass to hold you still. “Fuck!” You gasp every time your skins meet.

“Such a dirty,” he thrusts, almost making your teeth clatter, “dirty mouth!”

“Please, please don’t s-stop!” You beg and Jackson’s grin widens.

“Your pretty pussy is so soft and wet, doll.” He wipes sweat from his brows, still tugging at your hair. “I could fuck it forever.”

Your eyes shut at his words, and your walls clench around him. Waves of pleasure already course through your body. Jackson keeps going evermore, faithful to his claim. Every push now has you trembling, and he releases your hair, wrapping his hand to hold your throat instead. He doesn’t add pressure. The messy moans you’re letting out are vibrations on his palm, and it’s clearly doing things to him.

Jackson pants behind you, “Open your eyes.” He commands and you execute, holding his gaze in the mirror with heavy eyelids. “You’re so tight. S-Shit.” You clench once more around his cock and he groans, sliding a foot to spread your legs further apart. “Are you really…” He fucks harder and your whole body shudders unable to take it much longer. “… Gonna come again just like this? I haven’t done anything yet.”

You stare in disbelief, fighting a new rush of thrill. You’ve already came once; he must be kidding. “What else can you d-do?”

“Oh, doll…” Jackson chuckles, shaking his head slightly. “I am the best.”

You gulp, throat bobbing in his hand. Perhaps he’s just being cocky, but he’s been amazing so far… Your insides jitter and you cry out. Fuck, you aren’t going to be able to last forever, unlike a certain someone. As if aware of this, Jackson’s hand on your neck tightens lightly. The action limits your air supply but curiously, the new sensation isn’t horrible, far from it. Your eyes go wide when your lungs tingle in protestation. Jackson bites his lips, observing your expression in the looking glass. Weirdly enough, you’re even more turned on than before. The hand on your throat is distracting you from your throbbing, over-stimulated folds. Attentive, Jackson releases you and oxygen suddenly fills your burning chest, nearly making you come right away. You heave, letting out a litany of curses and clutching to the counter for dear life. Jackson laughs, thumb stroking your jaw gently as it relaxes.

“Again?” He asks and you surprise yourself by promptly nodding. His hand tightens around your throat once more and this time you’re more than ready. He keeps burying himself into you, your whole body is on fire, lungs and sex about to explode. Your thighs begin to shake violently and your back curves. You’re lightheaded, you’re about to break and come again. Knowing, Jackson releases the pressure at the right moment, letting air fills your lungs abruptly.

All those sensations at once are overwhelming. You cling to the counter, out of your mind when you come undone. You’re quaking, riding the waves of your second orgasm and Jackson gives up too. His muscles tense and his hips gradually come to a stop. He presses against your ass, twitching and emptying himself completely. His hot cum fills you in spurts.

You are still completely out of it when he pulls back and his cock falls out, done. Jackson is still short-winded, but he starts cleaning you off with a paper towel right away. His touch is strikingly delicate as he wipes what’s leaking down on your inner thigh.

“Your perfect pussy took it all so well, doll.” He whispers in your ear like it’s your secret to keep before kissing your neck. Your silence doesn’t seem to bother him much and he bends to pick up your discarded underwear. Jackson helps you step in like you’re an impotent little girl. For once in your life, you certainly feel like one. He even replaces your skirt expertly as nothing happened. You try to keep your thumping heart and you’re erratic breathing under control when he hugs you tightly.

Jackson Wang is actually hugging you… Minutes after fucking you into oblivion.

“Wait here,” he presses a series of pecks on your jaw, not minding your dazed state, “I’ll shower real quick.”

“Actually…” you are still holding onto the counter when he pulls away, “I should probably show–”

“You should probably sit here and wait for me, like a good girl.” Jackson grins widely, forcing you to go sit down next to his abandoned gym bag. “The swimming team has a morning practice at 7:30.”

“Oh!” Panicked, you turn to look at the digital clock on the wall. “I should go!”

“Stay,” Jackson doesn’t even bother looking back to see if you’re obeying. He’s already in the open massive showers, half-yelling to be heard over the running water; “Let’s grab breakfast if you don’t have plans!” You watch his back as he washes off any traces of you and his morning training. What’s left of his cum sticks inside your panties, it feels unfair that he’s the only one getting cleaned. Still, you choose to accept, curious at the perspective of sharing a meal with him but already hating yourself for being so excited about it.

“Okay,” you yell back, jumping on your shaky legs to fix your hair and makeup in the mirror where you just watched him fuck you, “but only because you still owe me an interview!”

“I’m sure you have plenty of amazing things to write about me now!” Jackson laughs, shutting the water off. “Then we can go to my place. I’ll show you what else I can do.”

You bite your lips, wiping a smudge of mascara from under your eye. “Sounds great,” you manage to reply just before he reappears in all his wet, steamy, god-like glory.

“Great,” A still very naked Jackson repeats, grinning like a little kid as he steps into his clean sweatpants, “you won’t regret it.” Perhaps clothes should be forever banned from campus. The thought never occurred to you before.

Cautiously exhaling, you feel the familiar pinch of arousal in your lower stomach watching him get dressed. Again? You’re still throbbing everywhere but apparently, you’re already excited for next round. Feeling your gaze on him, Jackson turns, winking as he puts his t-shirt on. His abs stretch deliciously before sadly ending up being covered.

“I’m sure I won’t…”

GOT7 | M.list

[wiltedthrone]

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐘 — WHAT THE F*CK ARE PERFECT PLACES?

Dear  Diary,  

 What  the  fuck  are  perfect  places?  A  beautiful,  thought  provoking  question  uttered  ( well,  okay,  screamed,  very  loudly  FINALLY )  by  none  other  than  Benjamin  Florian  Châtillon.  Yes,  you  read  that  right  our  little  Bennyboo  said  the  f-word!!!  Top  of  his  lungs,  uncensored!!!  He  totally  denied  it,  like  I  knew  he  would,  but  I  know  what  I  heard  and  that  little  glimmer  in  his  eye  tells  me  that  he  knows  what  he  said  too.  But  fine,  I’ll  play  dumb  in  the  name  of  friendship.  

 Now  that  school  is  finally  over,  we’re  all  taking  a  trip.  I  have  no  idea  where  we’re  going,  but  I  think  the  journey  is  more  important  than  the  destination.  Ben’s  driving  because  he’s  very  responsible,  Evie’s  in  the  passenger  seat  because  she’s  equally  responsible  and  she’s  keeping  him  awake  while  we  drive.  She  keeps  leaning  over  to  whisper  stuff  in  his  ear  and  I  don’t  know  what  she’s  saying  but  whatever  it  is,  I  can  see  him  grinning  when  I  look  in  the  rearview  mirror.  Sometimes  our  eyes  meet  and  we  smile  at  each  other  (  pure  friendship?  or  does  he  know  I’m  not  going  to  drop  the  f-bomb  that  he,  well,  dropped).  

 Evie’s  really  good  for  him.  I’m  glad  that  even  though  it  was  supposed  to  be  the  three  of  us.  We’ve  been  planning  this  trip  since  freshman  year,  but  back  then  it  was  more  of  a  pipe-dream  than  a  solid  plan.  I  mean,  let’s  face  it,  if  it  wasn’t  for  me  we’d  probably  be  sitting  in  an  empty  dorm  room,  pizza  grease  dripping  down  our  arms.  Which  is  fine!  But  it’s  not  the  way  I’d  want  to  start  the  next  chapter  of  my  life.  Since  Evie  is  not  only  great,  but  going  to  be  in  Ben’s  life  for  a  very  long  time  (wink,  wink)  it  makes  sense  for  her  to  start  this  chapter  with  us.  

Chad’s  in  the  backseat  with  me  and  though  it’s  totally  not  safe  and  we  should  be  wearing  seatbelts,  I  got  tired  of  sitting  up  straight  so  I’m  using  his  lap  as  a  rest  for  my  legs.  It  also  helps  me  write  better  (not  great,  but  still  an  improvement!).  He  keeps  trying  to  look  at  my  notebook  so  I  have  to  hide  it  because  I’,m  not  done  yet.  ):<  I  think  he  thinks  I’m  sketching  him  (which  I  already  did,  three  four  times,  by  the  way,  because  what  can  I  say?  He’s  my  muse.)  so  he  keeps  posing  and  asking  if  it’s  a  good  angle.    So  I  laugh  and  tell  him  that  all  his  angles  are  good  angles  (because  it’s  true)  and  that  I  love  him  (because  that’s  true  too (: ).  

 Earlier,  he  offered  to  draw  me  next  and  I  hard  passed  and  I  said  I  didn’t  want  to  lose  two  more  inches  of  height  (because  he  looooooves  to  draw  me  as  the  height  of  a  pigeon)  and  he  did  that  obnoxious  laugh  and  was  like  “haha  i’ll  give  you  a  few  inches  if  that’s  what  you  want,  auds”  and  so  I  threw  my  purple  gel  pen  at  him  because  it’s  what  he  deserves.  But  hello,  not  my  best  move  because  I  actually  needed  that  pen,  but  then   Chad  had  it  and  he  wouldn’t  give  it  back.  He  even  held  it  over  his  head  because  he  HATES  ME.  Like,  omg,  I’m  not  that  short!!!!

So,  we  end  up  wrestling  in  the  back  for  it  which  nearly  gives  Ben  a  heart  attack  because  why  are  we  not  wearing  our  seatbelts???  In  the  end,  SOMEHOW  Chad  ended  up  on  top  of  me  and  I  was  out  of  breath  and  still  penless  so  we  made  a  deal:  one  (1)  kiss  in  exchange  for  the  pen.  I  ended  up  giving  three  extra  because  I’m  such  a  giving  person  even  though  I  still  only  got  one  pen  in  return  for  it.

Anyway,  I  totally  got  off  track  and  the  sun  is  starting  to  set  so  writing  is  going  to  get  pretty  hard.  I  could  just  hold  my  phone  in  my  mouth  with  the  flashlight  on,  but  while  documenting  this  is  important,  I  really  want  to  live  in  the  moment  with  the  people  I  love.  It’s  crazy  to  think  about  how  different  things  were  one,  two,  three  years  ago.  Where  would  we  all  be  if  what  happened  didn’t  happen?  I  remember  being  so  depressed,  thinking  that  I’d  never  be  happy  again  and  that  my  life  was  over.  Now,  I’ve  laughed  harder  than  I  ever  have,  I’ve  loved  more  than  I  thought  my  heart  could  handle  and  overall  I’m  just...happy.  I’m  so  happy.  People  aren’t  made  to  be  perfect,  neither  are  places,  but  I  think  after  feeling  like  I  was  falling  for  so  long,  I’ve  finally  landed  in  the  place  where  I  was  meant  to  be.

 And  that’s  perfect  to  me. (:

@hecrowned @griimhilde @hecharmed

[meg-noel-art]

13, 20, 22: chloe price, glimmer, harley :-)

Chaaar

13.) How much would you be willing to be paid to face your biggest tangible fear?

Enough to cover all my student loans at least. Let's say $100,000 and I'll go fucking skydiving...at least it's..... relatively safe.

20.) Your most controversial food like/dislike?

Oh gee, idk... i fucking hate sushi?

22.) F*CK, Marry, kill

FUCck you Char

Oh my god, all my faves this is Sophie's Choice, oh fuck.. okay... uh

Fuck Chloe ... (I refuse to kill her, Bae over Bay, babyyy) (but I wouldn't marry her either, wild child.)

Kill Harley... sorry bbt ily... but knowing comic books, she'd come back to life somehow. So it's all good!

Marry Glimmer! Duh. I'm a simp 🥺

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Adora worrying about Glimmer in ep 10 / Glimmer worrying about Adora in ep 11

thinkin’ about why this is super cute but also in a kinda sad angsty way 

Glimmer isn’t much of the pacing sort. she does the frustrated yelling, the exasperated gesturing, and then the despairing draping of herself over whatever flat surface she can find

(final stage is best stage)

so it’s sweet that here, when worrying about Adora, she copies what Adora was doing earlier when Adora was the one worrying about her 

the scenes are set up the same too. They both rant aloud while pacing, Bow’s off to the side letting them do their thing, then they get brought up short by some bit of furniture (Adora kicking the pillow, Glimmer running into a monstrously misplaced chair) 

it’s also kinda sad, thinking about how Glimmer didn’t want Adora to go off on her own in the first place

when the idea of stumbling around the woods looking for answers gets brought up, Glimmer’s all raring to ‘run away’ with Adora to figure out the glitch thing (and escape dinner with her mom). She was literally like ‘great idea!! I’ll get my things :D’

then when Adora says no, she has to go on her own, and freaking dives out the window- There’s the joke of her landing badly with an ‘ow’ and Bow checking on the mighty warrior princess

“She’s okay!”

it’s funny and lighthearted 

but that’s not what the scene ends on

it ends with Glimmer, hands clasped to her chest, wishing for the best and in the same breath admitting being worried about the worst 

“I hope she stays that way.”

that’s what we end that scene on. Adora’s gone for three seconds and Glimmer’s already worried about her 

and Glimmer being worried makes sense, sadly. The last time Glimmer was in trouble and Adora wanted to help her, she defaulted to trying to sacrifice herself in Glimmer’s place (not so smart, did not work, pls don’t do again) 

that only didn’t end badly bc Glimmer was there to turn things around and save Adora, but now She-Ra’s run off on her own and thanks to the glitches Glimmer can’t even go after her 

there’s just so many hints at how badly all this was eating at Glimmer in those two eps. Even the glitches showed it. they can happen at random, but more and more they seem linked to Glimmer being stressed by something, worry, guilt, fear, (and in ep 12 in her fight with Scorpia) fury

Basically the things she was probably feeling back when she forced her way free of the Black Garnet and got the glitches in the first place  

so by the time she’s pacing in ep 11, each glitch is another tell of how not okay she is, a silent echo of her own words of guilt for everything that’s happened since the prom 

(and wow have a lot of bad things happened)

Cue Swift Wind

the Swift Wind’s entrance is another one of the scenes that’s funny and feels like a breather- Look at Glimmer and Bow freak out over the talking horse!- it does sober up slightly when he mentions feeling like Adora needs help, but it’s still mainly focused on the fun thanks to his over dramatic way of talking, Bow sidling up quickly to pet his wings in awe 

then Swift Wind asks if they’ll come help Adora

cut to this shot

there’s Bow, caught up in the wonder of a magical talking horse asking him to go on a quest to rescue one of his best friends, like something right out of a fairytale 

then there’s Glimmer, who looks... 

...well i’d say it looks like all her worst fears have come true 

now it’s clear that the glitches themselves weren’t what’s been stressing her out 

what’s been scaring her is what the glitches will mean for the people she cares about- making her mom worry about her even more, maybe even being disappointing in Glimmer (WHICH. SHE. WASN’T.) and then more pressingly, the glitches driving Adora to do the whole sacrificing herself for Glimmer’s sake thing again 

hence the glitch here

the second of ‘this is all my fault’ 

but it’s followed by the quintessentially Glimmer ‘Oh F*ck This’ moment 

as she gets ready to go save her girl 

just like she always does <3

..

she really does do a lot of that over s1, doesn’t she? 

it’s really sweet but maybe in s2 she and Adora could have a break?? less worrying and danger and saving from said danger and more just, idk, beating up the Horde together maybe????? that would be a nice change of pace... 

[stavarosthearcane]

Finally started watching She-Ra, It’s just as great as I thought it’d be.

So while I’m totally late to the party, I finally started watching She-Ra like I’ve been meaning to do for ages. I’ve just watched to the end of season 1 and just had the urge to share my thoughts on the characters. Note I am aware of plenty of spoilers from later seasons including the finale, which makes me eager to finally know the full context for everything. So I thought I’d share my initial thoughts on the characters for anyone who wants to see them.

So Character thoughts: I love all of them, except the one I’m not supposed to.

More In Depth Character thoughts:

Adora/She-Ra: First of all I have to say I really like the transformation sequence, especially the part where she punches her palm and the bracers form, I just find that really cool for some reason. I like that her approach to being ‘The Chosen One’ is basically “I have no idea what I’m doing! Somebody help me please! Does this magic-tech sword come with a manual?”. I’m enjoying her slowly growing into the role, and can’t wait for more.

Glimmer: Someone hug this shiny ball of self-doubt and insecurities. I like the ongoing examination of her complicated relationship with her mom (really glad they had some heart to heart time later in the season). Excellent walking disco ball of destruction.

Bow: High quality badass normal. He’s just fun and likeable in general. Most likely to be holding the Best Friend Squads only brain cell. I respect his need to constantly show off his abs, and also his realization that doing so when visiting an ice kingdom was probably a mistake.

Catra: Going back and forth between “Why won’t you love me?” and “Fuck you I do what I want!” yup she’s a cat alright. Considering all the stuff I know about future seasons I’ve pegged Catra’s current point in her arc as the ‘what if I tried to fill the empty void in my life with ambition and see if that helps’ moment. 

Perfuma: She’s basically that “Aren’t you tired of being nice? Don’t you want to just go apeshit?” meme. The fact that the cheerful hippy princess utterly embraces the chance to use her plant powers to smash things amuses me greatly.

Mermista: I like many many things about her. The way she groans and complains about the various shades of nonsense she gets dragged into. Her power set. Her attitude. The fact that she’s a Disaster Bisexual with a thing for Buff Ladies and Himbos. All make for a high quality sea princess.

Seahawk: He is the best and worst Swashbuckler ever. What he lacks in suaveness he makes up for with enthusiasm and Arson. What’s not to love about the dread pirate himbo?

Frosta: She’s only appeared in like two episodes so far, but she’s cool. Yep, the extent of my analysis is a terrible pun, get used to it.

Netossa and Spinnerrella: All the power and competence of the other members of the Princess Alliance, none of the Drama. I swear if they’d been in charge of the Original Princess Alliance the Horde would have been on its back foot long before Adora became She-Ra.

Entrapta: Oh My God I love her. She is just the best mad science princess. She’s essentially a Spark from Girl Genius and its amazing! Give her all the dangerous magic-tech and tiny foods she wants!

Scorpia: She is a delightful ball of sunshine and Season 1 doesn’t have enough of her. Can’t wait to see more of her in future seasons.

Hordak: An Excellent Evil Overlord. You just have to respect someone that knows when to properly reward and curtail their minions. He’ll let those under him act on their own initiative until it stops producing useful results, in which case he’ll put an end to their bullshit one way or another. Respectable villain methodology.

Shadow Weaver: F*ck that Gaslighting B*TCH! When I said I love all the characters except the one I’m not supposed to? I was talking about her. She is an amazingly realized villain, echoing the long history of ‘terrible parent villains through the ages’ and her role in the story is very important but I despise her with all of my being and was overjoyed to see her get her ass kicked at the end of the season.

Swift Wind: I love everyone freaking out when they hear him talk for the first time. It’s hilarious.

Kyle: He’s basically She-Ra’s version of Bob Agent of Hydra. Someone give that boy a hug.

Random none character thought: Since according to my friend who’s watched the whole series it’s never really answered; Was it called the Fright Zone before the Horde took control? Or did Hordak change it after Scorpia’s family submitted to him? I could honestly see it going either way.