#like we were very confused and texting other people to try and figure it out it was hilarious and your typical gay interaction lol

[semisentient-entity]

went out with my friend had way too much caffeine and noise and a mini sensory overload and i'm very tired but i also had so much fun because i hadn't spoken to this friend all summer.

I go from barely leaving the house for weeks to spending almost my entire day out with my friend, and it was genuinely a very good day and I'm so happy it happened but I think i might crash for another day. Happy chemicals are happening but I'm also very drained.

[moonstruckme]

hello love! i know you probably a dumpster load of requests so i apologize for taking your time. but i just had a thought.; james potter is totally the kind of guy to tell his girlfriend he's taken when drunk. like that man is to loyal for his own good. even when his own gf is trying to bring to home, he's just like "no. i've got a girlfriend that I love DEARLY. leave me alone" and when she keeps trying he'd call for sirius for backup😭. don't feel guilty if you don't do this!! i just wanted to share my thought, with or without you writing it! have an AMAZING day or night, and keep being YOU!! you inspire many people whether you believe that or not, it stays true!!!

Thanks sweetheart, love you!

cw: alcohol

modern au

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 844 words

You find your boyfriend in a corner booth, hanging onto Sirius’ arm and waxing poetic about their school days. 

“They never figured out how we always avoided Minnie whenever she wanted to find us,” he snickers, eyes glimmering. “We were soooo slippery.” 

“I think she knew everything,” says Remus, taking a sip of his drink. You notice there’s not one in front of James; it must have been confiscated. “She just liked us—some of us, that is—” He hides a smirk behind his glass. “—well enough to let us get away with it all.” He spots you and, with a nod, turns his attention to Sirius to give you and James space. 

James humphs noncommittally, confused as to why Remus no longer seems to be entertaining him. 

You come up on his other side, touching his muscled shoulder lightly. “Hey.” 

James turns swiftly, clearing not having noticed you walking over. You’re expecting a smile and a hug and expectant, puckered lips—his usual greeting for you—but instead his eyes narrow behind his glasses, brows twitching together almost imperceptibly.

“Hello,” he says, somewhat stiffly. 

You feel your lips curve into a bemused sort of smile. “Hi, handsome. Ready to go home?” 

He guffaws. Actually guffaws, like you’ve just suggested he go jump in the Thames. “I think not,” he says. “I have a girlfriend.” 

A tiny laugh startles out of you. “Yeah, I’m aware. You alright?” 

Now he gives you a smile. Or his best attempt at one, but James has always been a terrible actor, and the false grin manifests as a grimace. “M’good, thanks.” 

He starts to turn back towards his friends, but you pull on his sleeve. 

“C’mon, Jamie,” you urge. “It’s time to go, yeah?” James turns around, looking truly scandalized now. You give his arm a tug. “Let’s go home.” 

“No,” he insists, firmer than you knew could be managed with a slur. “I told you, I have a girlfriend. She’s waiting at my home, ‘nd I love her very much. Leave me alone.” 

“James,” you laugh. “Honey, it’s me.” 

“Pads.” He turns around, wrapping his arm around Sirius’ shoulders like he needs to hold onto something lest you try and haul him away. “Pads, this woman is trying to take me home. Tell ‘er I have a girlfriend.” 

Your mouth drops open. “James!” 

Sirius turns slowly, raking his gaze over you. He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Get lost, babe. This one’s taken.” 

Then he jolts and cuts a glare towards Remus, who sips from his drink innocently. “Be nice,” he reminds his boyfriend, foot moving back under his own chair. 

Sirius sighs, rolling his eyes. “Prongs,” he says with great reluctance, “this is your girlfriend.” 

Even drunk, James knows enough to be suspicious of his friend when he’s in a mischief-making mood. He squints at Sirius. “My girlfriend s’at home,” he reasons. 

“Your girlfriend is here,” Sirius says evenly, and you can’t blame James for his skepticism; if you weren’t fully aware that you are here, you wouldn’t trust Sirius’ deadpan stare either. 

“I texted her, James,” Remus says helpfully. “She’s here because I told her where we were.” 

Your boyfriend’s lips part, and he turns to you with something between joy and heartache—but the shock of both—written all over his face. “Sweetheart,” he cries, “it’s you!” 

“Yeah,” you laugh, letting him tug you forward by the hips into an awkward hug. You set a consoling hand on top of his head. “That’s what I was trying to tell you.” 

“My sweetheart,” he mumbles into your stomach. “I didn’t know it was you, angel. Of course I’ll go home with you.” 

“Glad to hear it.” You pat his back, heat rising to your cheeks at the display. 

James turns his head, still gripping you tightly so the side of his face is pressed to your front. “You texted her for me?” he asks Remus, maudlin.

“Well, I texted her because I didn’t feel like walking in the opposite direction of our flat to carry you home,” Remus says, then shrugs. “But for you too, sure.” 

“Thank you, Moony,” James croons. 

Remus turns to hide a smile, and you take James’ head in your hands, angling his face back up towards you. “Hi, handsome,” you try again. “Ready to go home?” 

He bobs his head happily, clambering out of his seat and whistling rowdily when you slip an arm around his waist to help support him. You wonder if the heat from your face could be harvested to power a hospital or something. You wave goodbye to his friends as James calls over your shoulder how much he’ll miss them until he sees them tomorrow. 

“M’so excited to go home, baby.” He leans into your side as you maneuver the both of you out the door of the pub. “I’ve been dying to get home to you. You should’a heard, earlier, I was talking to this other girl ‘nd I told her, ‘I’m just dying to get home to my girlfriend’.” 

“Yeah, I remember,” you say. “That was me.” 

“Oh, right!” 

[itsmrshamilton]

Last Goodbye | LH44

summary: reader is involved in a car accident during qualifying. can Lewis make it to her on time to say one last goodbye

a/n: lol, the summary is way more dramatic than it needs to be. I'm trying a different pov. Let me know what you think. Requests are open.

💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌

The sun was positioned high in the sky, the wind softly tickled the trees and there wasn't a single cloud in view for miles. The perfect Saturday afternoon to hold the Qualification Races for the British Grand Prix which would take place on Sunday. Lewis had left earlier that day just like the other racers in order to get to the track on time and begin preparing with their teams. Due to her work, Y/n was unable to attend most races on the calendar but she wouldn't miss the Silverstone race for anything in the world. It was their home race, the one time she got to spend the whole weekend with Lewis and their family while he worked. As scary as it was for her, she loved watching her favourite person do what he did best and inspire millions while he did it.

As was their tradition for home race weekends, Lewis had left Y/n her favourite breakfast in the kitchen, a handwritten note on a counter and a soft kiss on her forehead while she slept then quietly snuck out with Roscoe under his arm. She would have offered to bring their son with her later in the day but she knew that Roscoe had eager fans in the engineers' garage that were waiting to spend the day with him. So she got up and went about her morning on her own, tidying up and making snacks for later when Lewis came home knackered and starving.

She picked up her bag, patted herself down for keys then checked her phone for any last minute requests from her boyfriend. Seeing nothing new since the previous texts she sent, she figured he may have already started racing so she took a quick selfie and sent it with a caption. "I think I stand a chance of overshadowing your paddock outfit today, lol. I'm leaving the house, see you soon. Knock 'em dead, love" She giggled at her awful sense of humour before leaving the house and locking up.

The drive to the track was usually short but on such an eventful day, there were many cars on the road and one could feel the buzz of excitement and anticipation in the air. Y/n wasn't an anxious driver but seeing people pull risky moves between the lanes made her drive with a foot hovering above her brakes just in case.

💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌

"Okay, Lewis, P2 for Q1 was a great start. Let's keep that up and improve if we can. Q2 starts in 10 minutes, yeah?" Fred clapped Lewis' shoulder and walked off to another part of the garage.

"Yeah, thanks, man." Lewis replied as he stood in the red garage looking at the screen replaying his latest performance on the track. Roscoe pawed at his foot and whined, clearly requesting to be picked up. The bulldog seemed to forget that at his old age he was getting heavier but his father lovingly adhered and brought Roscoe to his chest with a grunt and a kiss to the forehead. "Where's your mum, eh? She's usually the one cuddling you during qualy, huh?"

He looked around the garage to see if his girlfriend had entered while he was distracted. He knew that the drive there wasn't very short but she always arrived before Q2 began so he was slightly confused. "Hey Marc, have you heard from Y/n or my dad?" he asked an engineer as he glanced at his phone. "No, nothing. There is traffic at the entrance though so that may be causing their delayed arrival." the Italian responded. Lewis nodded seeming satisfied as he read Y/n's text confirming that she was on her way. He grinned like a love struck fool at the picture she sent of herself decked out from head to toe in Ferrari merchandise. She was truly the most beautiful being he had ever seen and he wondered for umpteenth time how he had lived before he met her. He sent heart emojis in response and went back to watching the recording on the screens.

💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌

Y/n sighed in relief as she reached the last intersection before the paddock entrance. She could see gates from here and couldn't wait to get out of her car and see her son and boyfriend. The red light she had stopped at turned green and she let her foot off the break to move forward. As she was about to cross the middle of the intersection, she noticed the cars behind her screech to a sudden holt but before she could assess the confusing situation her car was hit from the side and she was sent jolting forward. The last thing in her vision was the airbag exploding into her face. She was unconscious by the time the horrified bystanders saw her car get thrust into the nearest pole by the driver who ran the red.

💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌

Lewis was seated in the red and yellow car and about to put on his helmet when he saw marshals, guests and staff hurrying in the direction of the paddock entrance. Focused on the next part of the race, he tried to stay grounded and drown out the sounds of shouting. "Lucas, radio check." he said to his engineer. "It's Lewis, radio check." Silence on the other end. He could now hear the sound of sirens in the air. "Lucas? Can-"

"Loud and clear, Lewis. Apologies for the delay, we were receiving a call from the stewards that there has been a car accident outside the entrance so there will be distractions during the second session."

Lewis grimaced and secured the position of his helmet on his head. Car accidents were awful to witness so he really felt sorry for those who were involved. He took hold of the steering wheel.

"That's awful. Do we know who it is? Has help arrived?" He asked sincerely.

"Uh, not really. They say it's a blue and red Audi and a black-"

"A what?" Lewis felt his blood run cold and his suit get tight. He didn't think he heard right. He couldn't have heard that right.

"A blue and red Audi. Anyways, let's focus on the ra-" Lewis didn't let Lucas finish because he shot up and scrambled to get out of the car he was strapped into. He fell out, landed on all fours but got up to rip off his helmet. His knees stung and there were shouts all around him but he had no time to listen. His skin was hot, his throat was tight and DAMN IT, WHY WOULDN'T HIS GLOVES COME OFF! Frustrated, he took off in a sprint towards the paddock entrance, shoving everybody out of his way. In the back of his foggy mind, he thought he heard barking right behind him but was too distracted to check.

When he finally made it off the racetrack property, he was buzzing with adrenaline, covered in sweat and coughing from screaming at the crowd to let him through. At the end of the driveway he could see two green ambulances and multiple police cars parked in a taped off area. "Oh, God. Oh God, no."

He only knew one person with a red and blue Audi. A red and blue Audi that he had gifted them. One person who hadn't yet arrived to the Ferrari garage.

He stumbled forward to take in the scene illuminated by flashing lights. But before he could mumble out another plea to God, he stopped dead in his tracks. A black body bag. Beside what was left of the blue and red Audi that belonged to his girlfriend.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Thanks for reading! Be sure to interact with this post before you leave. Requests are open.

Do not repost on another platform, alter or translate my writing. I don't consent. If you do, I will send evil shongololos to bite your toes off at night.

[noneorother]

The art director & the Good Omens book cover tier list of doom, part 1

part 1 l part 2

This is going to have to be a multi-part series because there are *checks notes* 64 different covers that I've found so far.

I am your resident Art Director/Good Omens enthusiast, and welcome to my completely meta-free book cover tier list. Listen, making a book cover is HARD. I should know. But while we salute these artists for their hard work and time, I think we can all admit that once in a while, the vision is just not on. And on very rare occasions, publishers seemed to have managed to commission the cover art directly from hell... 1. The original UK cover

Ahh, the standard by which all shall be judged. We're starting off with a nice & easy cover, with adorable woodcuts of Aziraphale and Crowley flanking a custom Good Omens font! While I have to take a few points off for the terrible kerning of the word "GoOD", the blockprint vibes and general bitchiness of Aziraphale's teeny weeny wittle face, along with the sick colour palette puts the orignial in my good graces. Tier: Great

2. The duelling US covers

Progress! Hail to the designer who figured out trying to make "GoOD" and "OMeNs" fit the same width was a fool's errand, and even managed to IMPROVE on the original handmade title by adding a little halo and devil's tale to the design. Aziraphale and Crowley are facing each other, while also managing to serve absolute cunt. Aziraphale is wearing EIGHTIES SNEAKERS. Crowley's little snake boots have HEELS. They've managed to keep the woodcut vibes and colour simplicity, while balancing out the full title of the book. Both authors get to trade off on who's name comes first! Dare I say, this is a work of genius. I could dock some points for Crowley's sad bat wings growing out of his right clavicle, but who am I to question greatness.

Tier: Blessed by God Herself

3. The Halo Master Chief(?) cover

How the mighty have fallen... As a Canadian child, I was subjected to maybe the most horrifying ad in existence by the War Amps warning children about machine safety. This cover is the paper embodiment of that ad. I am confused by the purple haze. I am frightened by the seeming ethereal flatness of Adam and Dog. I am strangely aroused by Aziraphale's eyebrows, and intensely saddened by the terrible outline/drop shadow they had to inflict on the type to fit "Pratchett" in that god awful space. Tier: WTF

4. Germany, Ein Gutes Omen covers

This cover inexplicably exists in two colour ways: red and teal. I put the audiobook cover here so you could experience the full illustration, and also how fucked up it is that they cropped the book version to include three horse-people of the apocalypse, but cut off DEATH on the regular cover. Points must be given for drawing a pretty slick Bentley, but I think we have to take even more points away for turning Crowley into a Ray Charles/Mike Wazowski hybrid. The ducks are nice. Tier: Not so Good (Omens)

5. Germany, Ein Gutes Omen covers continued

I don't know if the German designer of this cover *knew* that they were using western yeehaw cowboy woodblock letters when they made this cover, but judging by how they spaced the rest of the text at the bottom, THEY DID NOT CARE. And that seems to be a running theme for this one. We get kind of a duality thing going on with the black and pink background, but it just seems like somebody whispered the general themes of Good Omens into a jar, and threw it down a well, and this poor chap came along and picked it up. The baffling choice to align every piece of text on the cover *except* Neil Gaiman's name which is right aligned and rotated 90 degrees (not even real vertical type) will haunt my dreams, I think.

Tier: Bad

6. US, UK The Traffic Jam cover

For the love of Good Omens, WHY. I can think of so many more interesting symbols to put on the cover of this book than the ODEGRA SIGIL TRAFFIC JAM. Props for keeping the good colours and type, but like, I think this cover was secretly designed by @amtrak-official, or someone who just really, really likes public works. Tier: Does the Job

7. France, De bons présages cover

Leave it to France to make sure people know that Aziraphale and Crowley fuck severely. While I can't condone leaving out half the title of the book (and thinking a red carpenter's square counts as decoration), I can begrudgingly acknowledge that Ron Pearlman and Benedict Cumberbatch's love child is excellent Crowley casting. I think I give this a solid dark academia/10. Tier: Good (Omens)

8. France, De bons présages covers continued

Just imagine with me, if you will, the absolutely hilarious reality that this cover posits: Good Omens is exactly the same in every respect, but Crowley drives a pink 1950s convertible. Why do all of the colours on this cover look like they've been pre-digested? Why are the font choices and placement so bafflingly bad. My face is the demon's face holding that car. I feel his pain.

Tier: WTF

9. France, De bons présages covers continued

Minus points for not managing to write the full title of the book once again. I don't know what it is with the French. They seem pretty set on Good Omens being demonic. While I do appreciate a good Bosch-style demon party, the dude in the middle confounds me. All-caps Museo Sans that isn't even *centred* in the frame is just so lazy. I am le tired. Tier: Bad

10. France, De bons présages covers continued

Uhh. The font. The font is okay.... I think? Yeah. The font and kerning are. Okay. OHHH GOD I LOOKED DOWN BELOW THE TEXT WHYYYY. Tier: WTF

END of round one. I need a nap.

[in1-nutshell]

Hi, I just recently came across your blog and I really liked it, well done, you write very well, I can't wait to read what you write next time. If I can make a request, then I would like to ask you to write the reaction of TFP Autobots and Decepticons (and maybe humans) to the fact that on one day both sides discovered the vital signals of both factions emanating from the Smithsonian museum. The Autobots arrive at the department of the museum with historical cars to find the Autobot Buddy in stasis in her altforem of the Red Cross car from the time of the First World War. And at the same time, the Decepticons arriving at the museum department with historical aircraft find the Decepticon Buddy also in stasis in his altforem of the World War One aircraft. Both Buddies were sent by their leaders at the beginning of the Cybertron war to explore new worlds suitable for the extraction of energon. And arriving on earth in 1915, they not only continued their war, but also to some extent became part of the human war until one day in 1917, they both plunged each other into stasis. I apologize in advance if there are errors or typos in the text, English is not my native language.

These Buddy's are going to be in for a shock when they figure out they had been gone for a while.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy's the Bot and Con waking up from stasis after being in WWI

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Bot is red cross car.

Con is a red barron.

Bot is name Red Cross.

Con named Deadloop.

They were both sent to Earth to scout energon.

Once they both land on the planet they are at each other’s throats trying to claim the planet it the name of their faction. Until they realize this planet is also at war.

“You have got to be kidding me!”—Red Cross

“War seems to be following us everywhere my friend…”--Deadloop

“I’m not your friend!”—Red Cross

“We are now! We’re the only Cybertronains on this planet at war. We need to look after each other whether we like it or not!”--Deadloop

“Hmmm…”—Red Cross

Silence…

“What if we helped the good side of this war?”—Red Cross

“Don’t we have our own war to worry about?”--Deadloop

“And they’re lightyears away. I saw we help the good side win; we strike a deal for them not to hunt us down, take the energon reserves and when our sides come no one will be mad. Mission accomplished.”—Red Cross

“…Primus what am I doing… Fine! Don’t have anything better to do.”--Deadloop

After scanning random vehicles, the Cybertronains end up partnering up with Allied forces under a secret organization.

The organization made sure that not many people knew about their existence, which was fine by them.

Deadloop ended up helping arial strikes and dog fights.

It was confusing as they took the form of the infamous Red Baron, but it certainly struck fear in the hearts of the Central Power’s aerial forces thinking their Baron went rogue.

Red Cross ended up taking up learning more about organic medicine to help the troops, especially those who had just come back from the trenches.

They end up becoming good friends with each other and their fellow human companions.

Red Cross fixing Deadloop’s damaged propeller.

“You have to be more careful Loop. The supplies are low with propeller parts.”—Red Cross

Deadloop gives them a smirk.

“You should see the other guys. They’re practically in scrap metal.”--Deadloop

Red Cross shakes their helm a bit while reattaching the new propeller.

A human enters the hangar.

“How’s Deadloop Cross?”

Red Cross looks down at the nurse smiling.

“Mrs. Fowler, the propeller replacement is just about finished. How’s the Mister?”—Red Cross

She smiles a bit.

“He’s doing as good as we all are… There’s something I need to tell you two.”—Mrs. Fowler

Both look at each other before giving full attention to the nurse.

“…I’m pregnant.”—Mrs. Fowler

“…What’s pregnant?”--Deadloop

Red Cross’s optics widened.

“Your having a sparkling!? Loop! She’s having a sparkling!”—Red Cross

Deadloop looks at her wide optic.

“Congratulations!”—Red Cross

“Yeah… wow... did not expect that.”--Deadloop

The nurse looks down a bit.

“Mrs. Fowler? Is something else on your mind?”—Red Cross

“We’ve been talking, the mister and I, about making you two the godparents—”—Mrs. Fowler

Red Cross squeals a bit.

“I’ve heard about that term!”—Red Cross

They put their arm around Deadloop whose optics just grow wider.

Red Cross looks at Deadloop and they both look down at the nurse.

Deadloop kneels down and gently places a digit on Mrs. Fowler’s belly.

“Hey there tiny. This is Deadloop and Red Cross speaking, your grandparents. We can’t wait to meet ya.”--Deadloop

It would be a couple days after that news when Deadloop got shot down in no mans land. Red Cross moving to their friend trying to cover them from the shelling and the mustard gas that was clogging their vents.

The two eventually reverted into vehicle mode before going into stasis.

Us govt kept their bodies in a museum after many of the families and members of the secret unit refuses to burry them or burn them.

Now to present day…

The Autobots and Decepticon’s had recently come across two different signals coming from the museum.

Cons get there first and find the stasis signal coming from a red baron plane.

They take the plane and groundbridge out of there before the bots come.

The bots come and realize one of the signals is now gone.

But thankfully there’s one more.

The signal is coming from a car, and they take it.

After a bit of fixing the bot wakes up and is very startled to see their leader there.

Red Cross stretches a bit.

“Urgh… That hurts…”—Red Cross

They look up to see Optimus.

Their optics widened.

“Prime?! You’re here? Wait where’s Deadloop? Where’s Fowler? Where—”—Red Cross

“How do you know my name?”—Agent Fowler

Red Cross looks at Fowler with shocked expression.

“You’re not the Missus or the Mister… but they didn’t have any siblings that I know about…”—Red Cross

Red Cross looks carefully at their surroundings.

“This isn’t base camp…”—Red Cross

“It’s a good thing your sitting down then. There’s a lot you missed.”--Bulkhead

Optimus explains what happened.

Bot must sit down for a second realizing that all of their friends were dead and was once again thrusted into their own civil war.

They agree to work with them and mainly stay on base with Ratchet as their altmode isn’t suitable for the current times and a heavy limp in one of their pedes thanks to the shrapnel attack had gotten infected.

Red Cross looks sadly at Agent Fowler.

“You have her eyes… and you have his hair.”—Red Cross

“You really knew them?”—Agent Fowler

“Sure did! I met the Missus when she threw an egg at us the first day we met. That was some day.”—Red Cross

Fowler raises and eyebrow.

“An egg?”—Agent Fowler

“Yep! That little bugger gave us quite the scare first time around. Good thing I kicked it before it could hurt anyone.”—Red Cross

“…A chicken egg?”—Agent Fowler

“Chicken? No! An egg! What there’s a new word for that…”—Red Cross

Red Cross thinks for a bit.

“Oh! Grenade!”—Red Cross

“She threw a grenade!”--Miko

With cons…

Con wakes up and is ready to attack the first things they see.

Shocked to see Megatron.

They listen carefully and are slightly relief that their friend wasn’t captured.

But they are still worried for their safety now that Megatron has arrived to this planet.

There was no telling what the warlord would do to their friends.

“I expect to see you back in the sky’s at first light.”--Megatron

Deadloops propeller falls off.

“…Maybe after their not falling apart Lord Megatron?”--Knockout

Megatron nods and leaves.

Deadloop looks at Steve.

“Hey, how are the Granny’s here?”--Deadloop

“The what?”--Steve

“You know the Granny’s? Do we still have them shooting the basic blasts?”--Deadloop

“… Do you mean heavy guns?”--Steve

“Yes? That’s a Granny.”--Deadloop

“…”--Steve

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 3

Part 3:

Liana hadn't seen Art for three days. Ever since they started studying at Stanford, not a day had gone by without his presence being felt. Even if just for five minutes, he would pop up suddenly and disappear just as quickly. Liana wouldn’t say it out loud, but his presence had started to grow on her. She was never the most popular kid or the most popular teen. She always had two or three friends. And Art, it's not very clear who he is in her life, but he's a figure that's there. Present. Breathing the air she breathes. Knowing the people she knows. Laughing at her words, annoying her with his. She hadn't seen him for three days and it's bothering her. So today, she decided to go to the open practice for the first time, and Art wasn't there either.

"Are you looking for Art?" a female voice sounded behind her, and she turned around. Facing her was Tashi. Liana searched for the words, something that was always complicated for her; finding words in front of people she didn’t know or felt threatened by. Right now, she needed to answer 'yes' or 'no', and all she could do was stare. "You're Liana, right? Patrick showed me a picture of you with the boys, and I’ve seen you a few times with Art. Are you looking for him?" she explained and asked again. "Oh, yeah..." Liana managed to find her voice, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks. Unwanted color flooding in. "Did you see him?" she squeaked, trying to steady herself in front of the girl before her. "He just texted that he wasn't coming to practice today. Nice to finally meet you. Maybe we can have lunch sometime." She smiled briefly and moved towards the court, leaving Liana in the stands. A bit more worried than she had been before.

She knocked on his door three times. Then another three. And then six more. After the fifth round, he opened it for her. It was the first time she had been in his room, and he couldn't hide his surprise. "Li?" Art's voice sounded weaker than usual. "You didn't come to the open practice," she said coolly, looking at him and furrowing her brows. He didn't look good. In fact, he looked like shit. His hair looked greasy, his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were sunken with dark circles around them. Art Donaldson looked awful. "What happened to you?" She gave his arm a light push, which made him lose his balance and almost fall, but he understood her intention and moved aside. He ran a hand through his hair, a tic she knew he had; when Art was nervous, frustrated, or confused, his hand automatically went to the back of his neck, a few seconds of that until he gets a grip and acts as if nothing had thrown him off balance. "You were at the open practice?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Stuck on that piece of information. Almost wanting to request that the sentence be engraved on his tombstone when the time came. 'Here lies Art Donaldson, whose open practice Liana Levi attended.' His parents would surely be thrilled. "For four and a half minutes, then I realized you weren't there." She said as she walked to the window and opened it. "Your room stinks," she stated, turning her gaze back to him. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" she added. Sure, they weren't best friends, but they were supposed to be each other's emergency contact. They were supposedly here together. He made sure to remind her of that once a day. And now, in a real emergency, he wasn't talking to her. "Because it doesn't matter, I already feel better," he tried to speak in a more upbeat tone, one he thought characterized him but failed miserably at it. Her hand was on his forehead, causing him to immediately lean into it and close his eyes. "You're burning up, damn it, Art." She moved her hand from his forehead to his cheek, realizing that the situation might be worse than she thought and beginning to think of a plan. "Okay, I need you to get in the shower, alright?" she spoke softly. He looked at her, his mouth half-open. "Where's your spare key?" she asked, without looking at him too much, opening the closet intending to find clean sheets there. Art watched her bustle around his room, and despite feeling awful, worse than he had felt probably in the last two years, he found himself smiling. Liana was worried about him. She would make sure he was okay. "Art, do you hear me? I need you to get in the shower, I'm going to get a few things. Can you do that for me? I'll be back in half an hour." she said assertively, and he handed her the key as she requested. "Please be done with your shower when I get back." She ran her hand over his forehead once more, almost causing him to surrender to her touch and close his eyes again, but just as she had entered like a storm, she left like one.

Liana went down to the cafeteria after making a phone order. She returned to her room with the soup and grabbed the bag she had prepared for Art. When she entered his room, the shower water was still running, so she decided to use the time to change his sheets and put the lemon, ginger, and honey in his fridge. He came out in a towel and looked at her, leaning against the doorframe. He felt blessed. His head hurt, he had sneezed forty times that day, and all his muscles ached, yet he felt blessed. "You didn't have to, Li..." he mumbled, and she turned to him. "Good, you're out. Get dressed and eat the soup. If it's cold, let me know and I'll go heat it up." There was a microwave on each floor, so that was an option. Art went back to the bathroom and put on long pants, unable to bring himself to wear a shirt. "I also brought you some pills I had. If you need anything else, I can go get it, this is just what I had in my room," Liana babbled, realizing she was behaving in an uncharacteristic way. It dawned on her too late that Art probably thought she was crazy. More than that, that he didn't want her presence in his room right now. She had invaded his personal space and decided on her own that she was there to stay, when he hadn't really invited her. He had done everything to avoid seeing her in the past few days. He sat down to eat the soup at his desk, unable to take his eyes off her for fear she would disappear and he would be alone again, wallowing in his own misery. "Is it hot?" she asked, not knowing what else to say. "It's great. Thanks, Li," he smiled sincerely, and she reached her hand towards his forehead again. "Can I?" she made sure to ask this time, hesitating and seeing him nod. Her hand moved from his forehead to his cheek automatically, and he sighed for a second. "You're still warm." Her brow furrowed again. "When you finish, take this pill, okay? It's supposed to help with the fever..." she added, starting to gather her things. "Are you leaving?" he asked. Art's voice sounded more desperate than he intended. He wanted to sound indifferent, as if he didn't mind being alone. As if the last three days hadn't been an isolated nightmare filled with self-pity. "You can stay a bit longer. If you want," he added quickly, saying the sentence fast as if it would make it vanish from the air. "Okay," Liana said and nodded. "We can watch an episode of 'Gilmore Girls'," she smiled. Every summer, she forced Art and Patrick to watch a few episodes of 'Gilmore Girls'. If she had to be stuck with them, at least some of the time they would do what she loved. She was sure they liked the show because sometimes they would make comments about it. Art shrugged while finishing the soup, acting as if he didn't care if she stayed or not. In reality, he wanted to smile victoriously because he had won today. No one could argue that Art was the winner of this day. "You can take a shirt from my closet if you want," he told her, and she nodded. If they were going to watch an episode of the show, they would watch it on his laptop, in his bed. She couldn't stay dressed in jeans, and besides, they had seen each other in much less clothing over the years. So Liana put on one of his oversized boxers and a Stanford shirt that was at least two sizes too big for both of them. Art looked at her and nodded for a moment, lying down in bed and waiting for the moment she would say it was too much for her. That despite all her good intentions, she and Art weren't going to share a bed just so he could feel better. They hadn't done that since they were six, probably because she wouldn't even sit next to him on the same couch. "We're in Logan's season, are you excited?" she asked with exaggerated enthusiasm and sat down next to him. He automatically pulled her closer. "Aren't you afraid of getting sick?" he felt like the biggest jerk in the world for asking only after he had pulled her that close. "My immune system has never let me down, Donaldson, and it’s not going to let me down today." She started the episode while getting comfortable next to him.

As the episode progressed, her hand found its way to his hair, playing with one of his blonde curls that, just like Art Donaldson himself, had grown on her. "That feels nice…" his voice was barely audible as he was close to falling asleep, his head half on the pillow and half on her shoulder while his arm was wrapped around her. Just before Art fell asleep, focused on Liana's breathing and her fingers in his hair, instead of the show, he realized he didn't need much to feel good.

heyyy there. How are we feeling about this chapter? I hope the slow burn isn't too slow for you...any thoughts? I know that Patrick wasn't here at all, but he'll have his comeback, don't worry. Also, should I do a tag list? It feels a little too much since I really don't know if there are readers who want to come back. I really want to hear from you so feel free to talk to me (PLEASE). By the way- I still feel like my English is ruining the story, but again, I'm trying. Thanks for reading. It means a lot ❤️

[doublel27]

I have to say, I really love the balance and parallels The Trainee is pulling off with their interns. Specifically though, the focus on BaMhee and Ryan as our central leads, because they directly parallel each other in this story.

Of our interns, BaMhee and Ryan are the ones that didn’t really mean to be there. BaMhee is there following Tae with no real aspirations of her own outside of being close to him. Ryan is there because his only friend encouraged him to try it and he got pulled into the wrong interview. They both show up relatively aimless and without a real objective which is contrasted by Tae and Pie who are so focused on their dreams/objectives they have a hard time seeing around their own plans. Pah has a dream, like Pie and Tae, but he lacks confidence in his ability to complete his dream, in the way that Ryan struggles with his confidence.

And throughout the story, they’ve allowed Ryan and BaMhee to start finding themselves within the story. Both have become more involved and valuable to production as time has gone on. In the early episodes, BaMhee was usually texting Tae and Ryan was often silent and confused. Now BaMhee takes initiative and makes her own decisions. Ryan has taken to coming up with his own ideas and sharing them, as well as getting involved in scene set up and being better at handling extras.

Both had very significant revelations in today’s episode about who they actually want to be or might be that were explored in 4/4.

BaMhee realized she was still in love with Tae and while she likes Judy, she doesn’t like her enough to want to have a full relationship. I was always worried that BaMhee liked the attention and the confidence of Judy because we didn’t get to see much of Judy beyond her work persona (unlike Jane who we saw behind the curtain much earlier). I actually loved BaMhee’s speech to Judy about how no one person is an exact fit (which is why you cannot survive on one relationship alone - romantic, familial, friend - a person needs multiple people) and how both Tae and Judy have things that fit her and things that don’t. But it’s the love and feelings that she has for Tae that make her want to try.

And I find this evolved for BaMhee because it often felt, in the early eps, that she just wanted to be with Tae to be with Tae and not for her relationship with Tae. Like it didn’t feel like a thing she was choosing so much as clinging to. I know she knows that because she told Tae flat out what she wants, which BaMhee never did before. She laid out she doesn’t want grand gestures or big surprises; she just wants time.

Directly paralleled with Ryan, who has now had Jane in his home, and is finding his footing. We saw it some the last two episodes, but this episode had Ryan contemplating his dreams, and who he is, and what persona he might wear, or not. I loved the throwback to the interview and him explaining while he didn’t want to be porridge with side dishes then, just a person in the background supporting, now he does want to be porridge with side dishes because he wants to figure out what fits him best. Who he wants to be as a grown up.

I love that Jane pointed out earlier in the episode that no “adult” has it all together and even asked if people need big dreams. His own contemplation of his dreams and where he is over where he thought he might be was a lovely reflection in the conversation with Ryan. It’s beautiful how they talk about these things.

And @lurkingshan has a beautiful post on BaMhee’s relationships with Judy and Tae respectively, and how Ryan and Jane are slower, but Ryan and Jane are also deeper. Judy didn’t really listen to BaMhee, not really, or ask probing questions. Judy and BaMhee both operated separately, sometimes in concert and sometimes in opposition, whereas Jane and Ryan communicate about ideas and feelings and dreams. Another contrast I’ve enjoyed was Jane let Ryan in first, with the feeding and bringing him home, before he crossed into Ryan’s world in episode 10. Which is a contrast to Judy showing up at BaMhee’s family restaurant (entering her space first) and having BaMhee feed her while we still know very little about Judy. Yes she talks BaMhee out, later, but she doesn’t ask first. Jane always asks. It’s a very cool contrast of how both of their relationships with their mentors have helped clarify things for BaMhee and Ryan in multiple ways, while being very different.

Anyway, while I am sad my sapphic plans didn’t pan out, I still love this show dearly and it’s so well written and beautifully shot.

[nunalastor]

I have been struck by an idea for Angel Alastor AU

*Alastor's POV*

A couple months into his stay in Hell Alastor finds and figures out how deals work, as well as their roll they play in maintaining this realm. He is excited to try it out and finds out he is really good at it. BUT!! After awhile the people he takes under his care collapse into shows of light. He doesn't get it. What is he doing wrong! the only 2 thralls not leaving are Nifty and husker.

Let's see he takes in children and women who did what they had to do to survive. Check! Give them free housing in the forest he grew with his magic. Check!! Employ the women as either teachers/caretakers for the kids or writers for his radio shows. CHECK!!! Basically build and maintain a self sufficient community that doesn't have to worry about the stress of hell while he get to have his fun. Check fucking CHECK!!!!

No matter how many years pass in hell it keeps happening. It's confusing but that's ok, he only did it because all the most respected Overlords of hell run and maintain communities. His new bestie Rosie, Carmillia, Missi Zilla, Zestial and even that pathetic picture Box that got a lucky hit to his forehead with an angelic dagger ( thankfully Alastor bashed vox's face in before he could back up the memory) has one. Well the Princess is opening a hotel i hopes of rehabilitating sinners should be fun. He just hopes that the letters he wrote for Guy, Emily and his Mom and that they forgive him for his selfish acts.

*Heaven's/Micheal's POV*

It has been years since the one so loved by Heaven went missing because of Adam's carelessness when something miraculous starts happening. The souls of women and children damned to Hell start appearing before the high Seraphim Sera. Despite all the struggles the souls went through and endured, they had one thing in common.

Alastor

When Micheal is filled in on what's happening he doesn't rushes to the observation orb within Heavens Court house. With the help of the very souls Alastor redeemed he lays eyes upon his beloved for the first time in years. The sight is both comforting and devastating as Micheal watches Alastor rub at a nasty scar along his temple.

Of course. Everything makes sense now. His beloved wouldn't abandon everyone he loves on a whim. He didn't know it was possible for the love he has held for his deer to grow deeper because even when trapped in hell under the delusion that they're a demon Al still went out of his way to help others. After many apology's to Guy, Emily and Al's Mom for the deceit Sera decides the best course of action going forward is to call a meeting with Lucifer.....OH, Lucifer sent his daughter in his place. WAIT! She's starting up a redemption project that's perfect we can give her support through the search party now led by a talented exorcist by the name of Vagatha And his beloved's best friend Guy who's a detective turned therapist.

Charlie: "wait uncle, you know redemption is possible?"

Micheal: "Well yes, but not how because my boyfriend the saint who figured out how to do so, got trapped in Hell due to a tragic mistake some years ago suffering a horrible head wound. We were finally able to find him but we don't know how much he truly remembers."

*Lilith POV*

Lilith who has spent the last couple of years getting faded off champagne on a beach: "I feel like i'm forgetting something important" -the unopened letters Alastor asked her to deliver sitting at the bottom of her luggage- "If i can't remember, probably not a big deal."

-sleep deprived Anon-

P.S. the thought of Alastor finally finding joy in his after life only to have it be ripped out from under him because he is unintentionally being really helpful is funny and the growing unhinged perspective of Micheal as he searches for his beloved, is absolutely delightful for me

P.S.S. I had to write this down twice so it's a lot longer than it was originally so here's this wall of text-sorry not sorry

👀

[nicestgirlonline]

sneaky

Pairing: Bucky x Reader 

Warnings: None! Just fluff!

Summary: You and Bucky decide to keep your new relationship a secret with somewhat disastrous results…

Word Count: 3.7k 

A/N: Here’s my entry for @the-slumberparty week 2 challenge blast from the past! I don’t really have an old WIPs, I was trying to jumpstart my writing again with this sleepover. So here’s a little sequel to dumb dumb, since you guys really really seemed to like that one! Hope you enjoy! Feedback is always welcome! <3 

part 1

That Valentine's Day was possibly the best night of Bucky’s life. He had finally gotten to express everything he had been feeling for you. Friday night bled into Saturday morning, neither of you getting much sleep. The months of yearning and pining all finally erupted into passion, lust and love.

Saturday morning quickly became Saturday afternoon, with lots of pillow talk, telling each other little secrets about yourselves, sharing childhood stories. A simple Postmates order and quick text to Steve meant no one to bother you, and no reason for you to leave his bed. 

Saturday night, or what Bucky was calling round two became Sunday morning and that brought about a little thing called the Sunday Scaries.  

Amidst the bliss and happiness there was a lingering thought that kept bothering you. The two of you lounged in his bed, enjoying each other's quiet company, the moonlight of the early morning making the room glow blue. 

You bit your lip. Time to rip the bandaid off. Real life was going to be starting too soon again. 

“Bucky I’ve been thinking…about us.”  

“Really? Me too.” He started to pepper your face with kisses. “I’ve been thinking about all the ways I can have fun with my girlfriend.” You giggled as he started to tickle your sides. You wiggled your way out of his grasp. You propped yourself up on your forearms and did your best to put on your serious face. Which was very hard when Bucky was being so cute. 

“I mean it! I’ve been thinking, maybe we should keep this private? For a while?” You tried your best to keep your voice soft, the face Bucky made broke your heart, which was what you were afraid of. He looked extremely scared. 

“What’s wrong, what’d I do? Was girlfriend too soon? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, ” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close against him. 

“No, no, you’re my boyfriend now.” You assured him. You took his face in your hands and he leaned into your palm in relief.  “I am really excited to be with you but we do work together. And there’s HR and office gossip and I don’t want that to affect us when we are still figuring out us. I guess I’ve never really thought about the power imbalance between us.” 

Bucky nodded albeit a bit reluctantly.  He untangled his arms around you so you were both lying on your side looking at each other. 

“I mean…I understand. You know I don’t really think of myself as a big superhero or something, but it is a ‘power imbalance’. Does it…bother you?” He asked scratching his face to avoid eye contact. You sat up, suddenly very confused. 

“What are you talking about, I’m the scientist who’s studying you? I’m the one abusing my authority here. It's all very unethical!” You exclaimed. 

“I don’t feel taken advantage of here, Doll. If anything, people are going to think I’m taking advantage of you.” Bucky chuckled. 

“Why?”

“I’m a bit older than you. I’m sort of famous for not so great reasons. I’m also literally more powerful than you?” He held up his left arm as if to show you proof. You dismissed it with a hand wave. 

“You don’t know that you’re more famous than me. I’ve been published in many academic journals.” You pointed out. Bucky shook his head. Gosh he liked you so much. He couldn’t even believe this was really happening to him half the time.  

“There were weeks of press coverage for my trial.”  You just rolled your eyes at that. Bucky was always so afraid that everyone saw him as a villain, but you’d never once felt any sort of danger from this sweet man. 

“Well, agree to disagree. But I still think maybe for the first two months we should just keep it quiet. So we don’t have to worry about anyone but each other. Just lowkey.” He pressed a kiss on the top of your head. 

“Yeah. You’re right, you’re totally right. We will keep things low key.” 

X

“Hey Steve, uhhh we’ve got a problem.” Bucky rushed into the breakfast room, thankful that Steve was the only one there. Steve queried his eyebrow at his panic stricken best friend. 

“What’s up Buck?” He asked. Bucky, seemingly slightly out of breath grabbed the side of the cabinets, he closed his eyes to try and get his 

“So you know how I told you about…on Valentines Day…and then we…so the weekend was…” He waved his hand to emphasis his pauses and Steve nodded along.  

“Of course,  I’m happy for you two, Bucky!” He said brightly, of course this must be some sort of post confession bliss the two of them were in making his friend act so strange.

“Well that's just the thing. Did you…tell anybody else about it?” He asked, his voice a bit strangled and his tone grim. 

“Uhhh was I not supposed to?” Steve asked, his face falling immediately. 

“Can you answer my question?”

“I told Sam about it. The two of you have been dancing around it for so long that we’re all just a little excited for you.” Steve started to explain but he could practically see the fury radiating off of Bucky in waves. His signature death stare was fixed on him. 

“Look, I really appreciate the um, support for my relationship. But here’s the thing, she doesn’t want anyone to know we’re dating.” He ground out, his teeth still clenched. “So we are going to be low. key.” 

“Look who it is. We were about to put out a missing person alert .” Natasha had slunk her way into the breakfast room, her voice dripping with self satisfied condescension.  “Getting provisions for the love nest?”

“God damn it, you told her too?”  He cried out. She shrugged, innocently looking away. Bucky grabbed his head, he was going to throttle Steve. 

“Oh come on, Y/N loves Nat. I figured she already knew.” Steve held his hands up in surrender, the captain certainly hadn't thought this was how his morning was going to go. Bucky turned his attention back to the super spy who was a bit too pleased with the unfolding drama. 

“Nat, did you tell anyone about this?” 

“Please, I’m a spy. I don’t just go around giving out important gossip with nothing to gain.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question, Romanoff!” He snapped back. 

“I’m still a bit confused why she doesn’t want anybody to know? Is that a modern dating thing, not telling people you’re dating?” Steve asked. It didn’t make much sense to him, what exactly did she think was going to happen if people found out? 

“She just doesn’t want the gossip and the pressure of everyone knowing about us to color the beginning of our relationship.” Bucky explained but his tone belated his true feelings. He absolutely did not want to keep this a secret. “So I told her I wasn’t going to tell anybody but I forgot I already told the biggest blabbermouth on the team.”  He quickly turned back to anger at his teammates. 

“I’m not the biggest blabbermouth…hm crap wait I forgot, Clint knows too.” Steve closed his eyes, wincing, ready for the smack upside the head he sorely deserved. 

“Loose lips sink ships asshole! ” Bucky was exasperated. 

“I didn’t know this was top secret information!” Steve countered. 

Nat stayed at the breakfast bar watching the two super soldiers argue, it was amusing but she had her limits. She had to intervene before Bucky had an aneurysm. 

“It's not so bad, we can do damage control. Tell Sam and Clint to keep quiet about it.” Nat said before taking a sip of her coffee. “And Wanda.”

“AND WANDA--” Steve looped an arm around Bucky’s waist before he could lunge at Natasha. 

x

Bucky Barnes: Hello Sam,  I am texting to inform you that Y/N and I are NOT DATING and please disbelieve the rumors to the contrary. Yours, Bucky Barnes

Sam Wilson: please learn to text like a normal person

Sam Wilson: You know I saw you making out with her in the elevator on Friday right? 

Bucky Barnes is typing…

Bucky Barnes: Sam, please disregard my previous message and meet me in the training gym on level 5 ASAP. Yours, Bucky Barnes

Sam Wilson: You don't have to sign your name I know it's you 

Sam Wilson: forget it

Sam Wilson: yeah I’ll be there

X Something wasn’t quite right. Your love life had never been better, Bucky was an amazing boyfriend, it was all you could do to not spend all of your time with him. The two of you would meet up after work hours and spend blissful hours back in Bucky’s apartment. But the rest of your work life, well it was starting to feel like people were avoiding you. 

Like the other day at lunch, you were sitting across from Bucky which wasn’t too unusual, you had been friends before you were seeing each other. The very tips of your shoes were touching, a special little secret way of holding hands. The two of you were discussing movies that were coming out, a totally neutral non flirty conversation. But then Steve walked in, looked at you then immediately spun on his heel and walked away. You furrowed your brow. That was a bit weird.

Or when you had bumped into Bucky at the gym on level 5. It had actually been a happy coincidence, you decided to do some yoga as you sorely needed to stretch your body out after being hunched over a microscope all day.  Bucky had been working out with Sam, Bucky lifting weights with Sam on the treadmill. You waved to the two of them and made your way over to say hi and Sam without saying a word jumped off the treadmill and started to jog out of the gym. 

Even Nat, which hurt the most, flaked on the movie night you’d wanted to have in the TV room. Then it was the domino effect, Steve dropped out then  Wanda and Vis dropped out too and soon it was just You and Bucky. 

“Oh nooo. What are we gonna do, watch the movie by ourselves? Just the two of us?” Bucky whispered in your ear as you were pouring popcorn into a large bowl. He grabbed you by the hips and waggled his eyebrows at you. You let out a little sigh and snatched the bowl before heading to the TV room.  You weren’t in the mood to flirt with him. The tv room was ready for what you had thought would be a big group. The lights were already dimmed and there were plenty of blankets and pillows around. 

You and Bucky settled next to each other on the couch. He grabbed a big fuzzy blue blanket and draped it over the two of your legs. He gave your leg a little squeeze beneath the blanket and winked. You just let out a sigh and grabbed the remote to fire up the Roku. Bucky frowned, this was certainly not what he thought their movie night would be like!

“What’s wrong Bambi? You seem down.” He asked, concerned. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his body. You let him cuddle you, resting your head on his chest 

“It just feels like all of our friends are avoiding me. I mean I thought we were friends. Co-workers I guess, you know I’m not great at reading people.” You sighed and buried your face in his chest. Had you grown more annoying these past few weeks ? He grabbed your chin and tilted your head up so you were looking up at him. 

“Honey, you’re great at reading people, don’t let your insecurity tell you otherwise. I’m not really a people person anyway so I was excited that it was going to be just us. Nobody’s avoiding you I promise. Want to just reschedule this night?” He offered. 

You shook your head. Rescheduling wouldn’t make you feel any better. Besides it was nice to be able to spend time with Bucky out in the open like this.  You still felt like your friends were all acting weird, but you trusted Bucky enough that you decided to let it go. 

“Well since it’s just you and me, we still have to watch The Princess Bride.” You relaxed into the couch, already pulling it up on the screen. 

“Sounds perfect.” 

X

You were working away in the lab, it was a little past lunch time but you simply couldn’t stop in the middle of your project. You could push yourself just a little bit and finish this in time to actually leave at a normal time tonight. You had a date tonight. You smiled to yourself. A secret date.

You were deep in the process, so much so that you didn’t even notice the secret date, arriving hours early in the lab. He gave your sides a squeeze making you yelp. You spun around to see your smirking boyfriend. 

“Bucky! Um, what are you doing here!” you asked, trying not to sound too excited. 

“I'm here to help you out with those samples you had requested from me.” He projected his voice around the lab. But it was for the benefit of no one, you were the only two there. You smiled, happily playing along. 

“Oh right! Those samples I requested.” 

“Those spit samples.” He grabbed the back of your head and crushed his lips to yours in a sloppy wet kiss. You slapped his chest as you pulled away from him giggling.

“Ew! Bucky, that's so gross, why would you say it like that!” But you couldn���t stop giggling. He smiled, clearly feeding off the laughter. 

“You’re the one who wants us to have this clandestine affair, I’m just trying to keep up appearances.” 

“"Why are you even here? You’re a little early.”

“It's my lunch break and I wanted to say hi and give you a kiss.” He took  one of your hands in his. You reached out and grabbed his vibranium hand as well so you were holding both. It made his heart flutter, how unperturbed by his arm you were. When he was with you it was like he was just a normal guy.

“Hi.” He murmured, rubbing his nose against yours. 

“Hi.” you breathed back. This time when your lips met it was sweet and soft. He slowly moved his lips against yours, you opened your mouth just slightly enough that his tongue could slip inside and ---

“So I’m pretty sure the Erskine notes were in here.” It was Bruce! Bucky felt a sudden rush of fear. Bruce wasn’t one of the inner circle who would just pretend not to notice their closeness. They could actually get caught!  

You quickly as hard as you could pushed Bucky away and he clamored backwards. You wiped your mouth, hoping somehow that would disguise yourself. Bruce poked his head in.

“Just looking for the Erskine notes. Uh, everything ok in here?” He took stock of each of you, freshly shoved apart. 

“Yeah, just leaving!” Bucky cried as he raced out of the lab. 

“I’m indifferent to him leaving! I’ll go grab the notes for you Dr. Banner!” You raced to the file cabinet not looking at anything but the ground. 

Bruce cocked his head at the strange interaction he just encountered. 

X

“Good morning Bucky!” You greeted cheerfully as he entered the breakfast room in the morning, Steve and Sam in tow. “Morning Steve! Morning Sam!” You quickly added as they filed in. As not to raise suspicion. 

“I get a good morning? Wow. Don’t I feel special.” Sam said with a smirk. 

“I say good morning to everyone. I’m just a morning person like that. How are you doing Sam? I feel like you’ve been so busy, I barely even see you these days.” You asked, trying to sound casual. You still felt like everyone was acting so weird around you. 

“Oh you know, mission after mission. None of them were in Hawaii either, it's all been Nepal, Siberia, whatever frozen wasteland they can dump me in.” He sat down next to you. You nodded along as he continued talking about his missions, eager to connect with your friend again. 

“Good morning troops. Ah and good morning Beaker. Didn’t think I’d see you this early on a Monday.” Tony Stark, sunglasses still on, his closes wrinkled like he’d just come in off a jet. It had been awhile since he was on at the Compound.  

You hoped you weren’t blushing at the comment. Bucky had talked you into another Sunday night sleepover, you were trying to be subtle about it but you were a morning person, it didn't make sense to pretend to show up later.

‘I didn’t think I’d see you at all Mr. Stark. It's been awhile, since you’ve hunkered down with us mole people in the lab.” You always had a professional but good natured relationship with Tony. He was your boss after all, which is why you found it a little weird to call him Tony. 

Tony let out a chuckle and started to make science small talk, about the lab and the projects you’d been working on. 

Bucky and Tony were not great friends. They had buried the hatchet, sure, but it wasn’t like the two drank beer and watched the game together. Cordial coworkers are best. 

Except Bucky didn't feel very cordial with Tony right now. Considering he had taken the only open seat next to you. He gruffly sat down at the table next to them with his coffee. 

You wanted to invite Bucky to come sit with you, or go over to his table, but that would probably be a bit too much for just friends. You peered over Tony’s shoulder to your grumpy boyfriend darkly having breakfast. You tried not to make it too obvious and still listen to his anecdote about building a mini laser. 

The two of your eyes would catch more often than not. Quickly turning back to whatever they were doing. Tony picked up on this immediately, he looked over his shoulder

“What do you keep looking at?” He spun around to look directly at Bucky who was frozen in place.  “What’s going on here? Are you two fucking or something?”

It was like everything happened all at once.

“Tony -- out of line.” “Uh HR?” “No no no you misunderstand.” “Which one of you told Tony?”

Everyone burst into action, all speaking over each other.  Wait what? You swung your head from pleading with Tony to your secret boyfriend.  The three soldiers froze. Sam took a deep breath. 

“I’ve had enough of this! Nobody told Tony. You two idiots are just so obvious that anyone could see it.” Sam said. As soon as he did Steve let out a huge sigh of relief, his shoulders rolling forward like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.  

“I won’t have this, no way, not on my watch. Y/N. My beloved employee. With Mancurian Candidate? Under my nose, in my own lab?” Tony said indignantly,  putting his hand over his heart as if he was scandalized. 

“Tony! That’s really not very funny. You shouldn’t call him that.” You said your face a hard frown. and Bucky felt his heart burst with happiness. But then your gaze turned to him and he felt your icy stare.

“I--I can explain. You see I had actually texted Steve before we decided to be lowkey. It was before so really if you think about it. I didn’t do anything wrong. And Steve and his big mouth told a few people. But it’s just the people in this room. And Nat. And Clint. And Wanda. But that’s all.”  Bucky tried to explain to you as best he could. His eyes were pleading, he felt weak in the knees. You remained silent, your arms crossed. 

“Yikes, you’re in troooouble.” Tony taunted. 

“So basically everyone! Everyone I see on a daily basis. I can’t believe this. So they’ve all known the whole time?” You looked at Sam and Steve who both sheepishly nodded. You turned back to Bucky, you let out a shaky breath. People knew, and nothing bad had happened. Your friends had actually gone out of their way so you two could have some privacy.  “Well I guess there's no point in keeping this up then.”

“Hm?”

“I'm having breakfast with my boyfriend now, so if you don’t mind gentlemen.” You grabbed your breakfast bowl and moved your chair so you were sitting next to Bucky. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your lap. 

“Ugh, I'm nauseous you two are so fucking cute. Guess that’s my cue.  Come on, Commandos, take a hint.” Tony got up signaling to the other two who also rushed out of the room, more than happy to get out of the tense atmosphere. Once you were completely alone, you finally spoke. 

“I can’t believe everyone knows. Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

 Bucky let out a deep sigh. 

“I mean I kept it a secret from some people. Tony being one of them. I just…I wanted to give you what you wanted. But I mean to be completely honest I did want to tell everyone. I’m all in.”  

“I’m all in too!” You cried clutching his hand and kissing his knuckles. “That's why I wanted to try and slow things down so I couldn’t mess anything up. Now it just all seems so silly. I tried so hard to be sneaky too!” 

He took his hand off yours and gave your thigh a squeeze. 

“I mean…we can still sneak around sometimes. If you want. ” He had a playful glint in his eyes. “I mean, I had plans, Doll, a lot of plans. I was fully prepared to take you on every inch of that lab table.” 

“Sergeant Barnes! ” You gasped. “I think we may be a bit too loud for that level of sneakiness.” He took your chin in his hand and rubbed his thumb down your lip.

“I’m sure we can find a way to keep you quiet.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not picking my brothers side against our mother?

Some background information:

My brother (let’s call him Collin) is trans (20m) We come from a relatively Catholic (we aren’t religious but the influence is deffo there) conservative country and have been living in the USA for most of our lives. My mother definitely can’t be considered LGBTQ allies, although they are much more understanding than some of the people here, especially in the south— which is impressive considering where we come from. She is TERRIBLE with using the correct pronouns for Collin, so much so that he doesn’t contact her much anymore. I’ve never tried to get him to do otherwise— it’s his choice, and I still respect him. I can understand it. Shortly before he moved away, he’d rant to me about her. I was pretty good with listening and giving advice/support for the first few years, but towards the end of high school (when the school work stress was piling up, along with other external family issues), it started to weigh on me. I wanted (and still want) to be someone Collin can confide in, but I still love my mother. She has made improvements with her close-mindedness, even if they aren’t huge steps. Whenever I try to give reasons for her behavior or just try to get them to get along, he accused me of siding with her. A lot of his perceptions of her seem warped these days, too. Like a while ago he was talking with me via text about one of his friends/coworkers (who is gay). He told me not to mention to our mother that this friend is gay— this friend, by the way, is fully out and married. A few months later I slipped and mentioned it to my mother (she had suggested that this friend probably likes this woman we know and I said “no mom he’s gay!”). And she didn’t really react? She just bluescreened for a moment (the trademark “confused boomer pause”) and went on with the conversation. I’ve had a lot of talks with her about LGBTQ issues, and I’ve actually managed to get her to consider the fact that homophobia may stem from religion (she is a very science>religion kind of person). She wholeheartedly believes that LGBTQ issues should not be politicized. (Not an ally, not an enemy.)

anyway, all this to say that Collin has a very 2D impression of her. Last year I went to pick him up at the airport, and mom called while we were in the car to remind us to stop by [store] and pick something up. When the call ended, Collin snorted and said something like “the bitch couldn’t have just sent a text?”

I told him, a bit snappishly, to shut up. He looked surprised and I felt bad, but I told him that I didn’t want any in part in the conflict and that he should stop bringing me into it.

I was also kind of pissed at him at the time for posting the story of an argument between our mother and I (my period was a month late, she thought I was pregnant*— not even an argument she was just annoyingly suspicious for a week or two) online. He changed names for privacy, but there were people who knew who he was so it wasn’t that hard to figure out who his “sister” was. Since I never gave him permission to share it with anyone, I asked him to take it down. He did eventually. but I guess that could be for another AITA post.

*I have never dated or shown interest in dating anyone.

Overall, I feel that he has the right to argue/have a bad relationship with our mother. But I also have a right to let it affect me without being labeled as a bad or traitorous sister.

What are these acronyms?

[ofstarsandvibranium]

if it’s not too much to ask (🥺) could you do a reader who’s best friends with Colin and he teases her about her crush on Jamie and tries to get them together? If not, NO WORRIES. Your stuff is so 🥰

(this ended up being a lot longer than I intended...whoops!)

You and Colin grew up together. You were two peas in a pod, the thickest of thieves. You knew everything about each other. You were the first person he told when he realized he was gay. He was the first person you told after you had your first kiss. You're each other's platonic soulmates.

As such, you're always trying to help each other in regards to your dating lives. When he told you about Michael, you were excited to see your best friend finally found his person. Michael was amazing and you two clicked instantly, to Colin's relief.

Your love life? Weeeell...

Colin and Michael were expecting you since twenty minutes prior, you texted them: THIS DATE SUCKS. IM COMING OVER.

So you're now sitting on Colin's couch in between the couple.

"So what happened this time?" Colin asks.

"All he talked about was football, specifically West Ham," that got Colin groaning, "He also looked my Instagram up and saw the pictures of you and I. Asked if we dated in the past, if you'd be able to get him tickets to the next Richmond versus West Ham game."

"You know you can archive the pictures of us so people-"

"No. I'd never do that to you, Col. It's like I'm ashamed of you and I'm not."

Colin gives a small smile and nod of appreciation, "Thanks, babe."

"Maybe you can set her up with one of your teammates," Michael suggests.

A lightbulb went off in Colin's head and you immediately said, "Don't."

"He's available."

"It'll be weird!"

"No, it won't!"

"Isn't he a dickhead?"

"Not as much anymore!"

Michael waved in front of you and Colin, "What's going on?"

You groan, hiding your face in your hands, "Kill me."

Colin snickers, "Y/N's celebrity crush before I got into the league was Jamie Tartt. When she found out he was being lent to Richmond, she freaked out. Made a complete fool of herself by tripping in front of him and getting a bloody nose."

"Ooohh. That's pretty bad." Michael says, wincing.

"It was so mortifying!" you cry out, "There's no way he'd want to date me after that disaster!"

"He might not even remember it," Colin says reassuringly.

"I don't want to risk it," you turn to Michael, "Michael, tell him it's a bad idea."

Michael looks to his boyfriend, "Do you vouch for Jamie?"

Colin nods, "I do, actually. He's completely turned his act around. He can still be a prick sometimes, but it's not as bad as it was when he first joined the team."

Michael focuses back on you, "You should go for it."

You immediately stand up, "Nope. I'm not making myself out to be a fool again. No thanks! I'm out!"

_____________________

"Hey, Jamie," Colin rushes up to Jamie as he exits his car.

Closing the door behind him, Jamie responds, "Yeah, mate?"

"You're not seeing anyone right?"

"No," Jamie replies with furrowed brows, look of confusion.

"My best friend, Y/N, she's beautiful, funny, and smart and think you and her would be a great match." Colin holds out his phone, showing Jamie a really great candid picture of you that he took when you two went to dinner months ago.

Jamie nods at the picture. You were, indeed, very beautiful. The way the sun hit your skin made you look angelic, "She's...nice."

Colin rolls his eyes, "One date. That's all I ask."

"Why me though?" Jamie still looks a bit confused, "Why not Bumbercatch or Isaac?"

"I just think you and Y/N would fit really well. She's been having a rough time with dating so I figured you'd show her how she should be treated."

To be fair, Jamie was thinking about getting back into the dating scene. He finally got over Keeley, accepting that they'd just be better off as friends. You seemed like a decent person, from the few things Colin mentioned. Might as well, right?

"Fuck it. Sure."

Colin fist bumped the air, "Yes! You won't regret it. I'll make the plans. You just show up."

"Yeah, yeah, alright."

_______________

You show up to Ola's, a place you've been to before. As soon as you walk in, Colin and Michael are there.

"I need to preface this and say you can't be mad at me," Colin says.

You narrow your eyes at him, "What did you do?"

"It'll be fine. I promise. Michael and I will be on the other side of the restaurant if you need anything, but you won't, because it'll be great."

"But if it goes wrong, it was definitely all his doing," Michael says, pointing to Colin.

Colin grimaces, "Thanks, babe." He takes your hand and leads you towards the back corner where Jamie fucking Tartt was sitting.

You immediately give Colin a look and he pushes you towards him, murmuring, "It'll be fine!"

You slowly approach the table and Jamie looks up, giving you a polite smile as he pockets his phone.

"Hi, I'm Jamie," he offers his hand out.

"I know," you say as you shake his hand, "I'm so sorry Colin roped you into this. You really don't have to be here if you don't want to."

He shrugs, "It's fine. Been meanin' to get back into the dating game. Besides, if things don't really work out, we get free dinner and drinks out of it, yeah?"

Your brows shot up, "Colin's paying?"

Jamie nods, "He said he would."

You smirk and gesturing for a server. He smiles at you, "Would you like to start with drinks?"

You nod, "Yes, we'll have your most expensive bottle please."

It's now Jamie's brows that shoot up and he looks at you in surprise. When the server leaves to get the drinks, you lean in and said, "It's payback," you sigh as you sit down.

"So...you weren't too keen on going on a date with me then?" he asks awkwardly.

You suddenly look mortified, "No, no! That's not it at all it's-I-ugh!" you slump back in your chair. You let out a deep breath and sit up again, "Alright, so I believe two years ago, you and I actually met before and I made a complete fool out of myself because I tripped and ate the pavement. I busted my lip, there was lots of blood. Not a pretty sight or a cool thing to do in front of your celebrity crush."

Jamie smirks, "I'm your celebrity crush?"

You sit there in silence, mentally cursing yourself and Colin for making you go through this embarrassment again. You stand, "Right, okay, I've embarrassed myself enough. I'm leaving."

Jamie rushes to a stand, "No, please, don't. I'm only teasin' ya. It's nothin' bad, I promise. You're-You're very cute when you're flustered."

"Thanks," you murmur.

Luckily, the server came back with the most expensive bottle of wine. As soon as he poured your glass, you began downing it. Jamie watches you in amusement.

"Sorry, I just need some liquid courage to get through this."

Jamie leans forward, resting his arms on the table, "How about this, we just forget who I am for tonight. I'm not Jamie Tartt, the most amazing striker in the league. Just Jamie, a nervous lad on a date with a beautiful girl."

"You're nervous?" you ask in shock.

He shrugs, "It's been a while since I've gone on a proper date. Kinda forgot how to do this sort of stuff."

"Pft, I've gone on many dates and so far, you're the best one."

"Yeah? Tell me about 'em."

And that's how dinner goes. Over another glass and eventually over some food, you tell Jamie about your past dates. He tells you about some ridiculous things he's done with the guys when Coach Lasso was around. It was nice. It was nice knowing that Jamie wasn't here because he wanted to get close to Colin. He was there because he wanted to. You assumed he was interested in you by the way he flirted with you throughout the nice. So maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all.

Once dinner was over, Colin came over with a pout, "Did you guys really have to order the most expensive items here?!"

"That's what you get for tricking me like that," you boop his nose and Michael snickers as he weaves his fingers through Colin's.

"But it went alright, yeah?" he looks at you and Jamie.

"I'd say so," Jame puts his hand on your lower back, "We're, uh, actually gonna head to a pub for more drinks."

"Oh! Well, uh, I think Michael and I will head on home then."

You don't want to give Colin the satisfaction just yet, so you say, "I'll text you later when I'm home."

"Sounds good," he says and pulls at Michael's hand, "Let's go, babe."

Looking over his shoulder, Michael gives you a wink and a thumbs up.

You snort and then turn to Jamie, "Ready?"

"Whenever you are, love." and you two head out onto more drinks, more talking, and, hopefully, more dates after this.

[confusedblakex]

Soulmate AU Series: Katsuki Bakugo

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo X Reader (GN)

Summary: The day you get your soulmark, except you didn't find your soulmate the way you expected

Wordcount: 628

Warnings: Cussing (it's Bakugo)

Requested by: No one

Inspired by: This post by @dashielldeveron , this post by @haitani-trash and this post by @virtual--hug

Notes: Reader’s quirk hasn’t been decided yet, please drop suggestions in the comments and I’ll pick the one I think works the best

Last edited: 07th April 2023

Prologue

You woke up startled, your alarm catching you off guard. You’d stayed up late last night trying to wait until midnight, but you must have fallen asleep too early.

Cautiously, you looked yourself over, quickly spotting the words written on the inside of your left wrist in small, fine writing.

‘What the fuck?!’

You groaned to yourself. It definitely could have been worse, but it was also a somewhat generic phrase. You’d have to come up with a really good comeback for it, so they’d definitely know you two were soulmates… Unless you spoke first.

Wait, what if it was last words and not first words?

Deciding to leave it for now, you readied yourself for school, replying to text messages of congratulation as you were going.

---

You sat through classes that day as though nothing had happened. There were many people congratulating you and asking about your soulmark, but the hype calmed down as soon as they had figured out no one in the class had a matching soulmark type.

“I’m pretty sure Shinso has the first words soulmark,” Izuku offered, and while you thanked him for it, you didn’t really see the point. Fate would take it’s course, and today was only the first day.

“Sounds like something Bakugo would say,” Jiro joked with you at lunch, and you laughed with her. She wasn’t wrong.

You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but part of you was sad that your soulmate was no one in your class. Your eye has been drawn to a small few of them, and Bakugo was included. Yes, he very obviously had issues, but it was something you’d had a long time to think about. You’d liked to think he had a hidden romantic side, though that might just be you being hopeless.

Once you were back in class, you stood next to Jiro’s desk to speak with her and Tokoyami. The topics of conversation were the usual, and then the topic of your birthday on top of that.

“So…” Jiro stared.

“So?” You parroted, confused.

“Jiro and I got you a birthday gift,” Tokoyami revealed, a small smile on his face (beak?).

“Yep! We got concert tickets - for you and us, of course,” Jiro revealed, pulling three physical tickets from her bag. You noticed the pattern on them and were taken aback by the logo of your favourite music artist.

In your surprise and gratitude, you weren’t prepared to feel a smack against your rear. In a moment of uncertainty and annoyance that someone had ruined your moment, you spun around and smacked - who you expected to be Kaminari - square in the face.

It was not, in fact, Kaminari.

“What the fuck?!”

It was Bakugo. Ohhhh shit.

You didn’t take him to be the type of person to just go around smacking people’s butts. That, however, didn’t mean he didn’t deserve it still.

You were about to yell back, argue, when you were suddenly stopped by a burning sensation on your left wrist. You looked down to see your soulmark fade and disappear.

Bakugo must have felt it too, as the mark on his face was fading.

The room settled to silence and, though you were still furious, you were lost to confusion. Then it sunk in.

“You’ve got to be fucking with me…” he grumbled and proceeded to trudge over to his desk and sit down.

Conversation in the room slowly started back up, some people applauding you and others concerned for you.

“Well… I didn’t see that happening,” Tokoyami said as looked to Jiro, who looked back at him with the same look.

“Help, I think I’m having an existential crisis.” You muttered as you sank down to the floor, wishing to become a puddle.

---

Bonus:

“Are you kidding me?” Jiro groaned as she reluctantly passed the 2000 yen note to the yellow-haired boy.

“Did you really have to be so brazen about it?” She asked.

“Hey, it wasn’t simple!” Kaminari retorted, stuffing the note into his wallet,  “Getting Bakugo to stand there and then make sure no one saw? I think I did quite well,”

“OI! PIKACHU, I'M GONNA KILL YOU FOR THAT!”

“Oh shi-!”

[husbandhannie]

home, home, home, home

pairing: woozi x reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: some relationship insecurity, but this isn't exactly angst, one(1) barely present sexual reference (no details at all)

a/n: svt's home is actually really inspiring when you're in the mood

taglist: @leejungchans @junhui-recs @itsveronicaxxx

jihoon’s distracted, and he knows it. given soonyoung’s concerned gaze, he knows it too.

“we can pick this up later”, his friend offers, “we have time”.

“no, it’s okay”, jihoon responds, not sounding nearly as sincere as he should, “i said we’d do this”.

it’s true. as much as he rolls his eyes at soonyoung’s “tiger agenda”, he promised his friend a tiger-themed song for International Tiger Day, and jihoon is a man of his word. he can’t just stop for today, as much as he desperately wants to.

“we have more than a month”, soonyoung insists, “how about we continue tomorrow? after gym?”

jihoon sighs. he knows his mind is focused on something else today, knows that he can’t help his friend today. he bids soonyoung goodbye as he leaves his studio, and it’s a testament to how preoccupied he is that he doesn’t roll his eyes at soonyoung’s illicit smirk.

you. he’s got you on his mind.

and no, it’s not the way soonyoung thinks.

you haven’t texted jihoon in the last 12 hours, and he’s losing his mind trying to figure out why.

to most people, this might not be a big deal. after all, most of those hours were in the night — the period of the day in which people generally sleep. but you almost never sleep before 2 AM, and neither does he — and the two of you always text during the night. always.

so understandably, jihoon is a little freaked out about the lack of messages from you. his texts and calls to you have gone unanswered, and he’s hoping it’s not on purpose.

as he manoeuvres his car through traffic, he tries to think of the last time the two of you met. it was two — no, three — no, wait, four days ago. you had dropped by his studio for dinner, and mentioned feeling overwhelmed with your master’s thesis. he was working on a track, he remembers.

maybe he was distracted. maybe it dawned on you that he wasn’t available enough, that he wouldn’t be there for you when you needed him the most. maybe you decided to cut your losses and ditch him.

the logical part of his brain knows that that’s very improbable. the two of you talk, and you have always told him when he did something that bothered you. the other part of his brain, however, has been almost waiting for this to happen.

yes, you’re busy too, and yes, you dislike big flashy dates as much as he does, and yes, you prefer night-ins spent just talking — but maybe you realized something, maybe you decided that you deserve better.

the significance of your presence in his life has never hit jihoon so hard, and he’s hoping that he hasn’t fucked this up.

he doesn’t think he’s ever made the journey from your building’s parking lot to your floor so fast — he’s racing through the stairs to the second floor, and for once he doesn’t dwell on how your landlord should cut down your rent because the elevator is somehow always under repair. actually, he’s not thinking about anything but you — and how he feels like the ground under him might give out any second.

he’s felt this way before, back when his group was new to the industry. he remembers the uncertainty, remembers the feeling of dread. he didn’t think he’d ever feel it again, least of all in a romantic relationship. this is what happens when you find a home, he thinks.

he has to stop himself from pressing your doorbell the second he stops in front of your apartment. he manages to wait for about twelve seconds while he catches his breath, before giving in, lightly panting.

the door opens and you emerge in your blue pajamas, your eyes squinting at his figure. he’s woken you up.

“jihoon?”, you blink, a confused smile making its way to your face, “what are you — “, you stand up straight, and he knows you’ve noticed his sweaty forehead and quick breaths, “everything okay?”

“yeah, i, uh”, he stutters for a moment, because he hadn’t thought about what to actually say to you, “you weren’t picking up my calls”.

seriously? he does a mental face-palm. “you weren’t picking up my calls?”

“just came to check if everything is okay” there. that sounds more reasonable.

“oh?”, you move to let him in, closing the door behind you while you answer, “ah yeah! i had a couple of drinks last night with my team, and came home and passed out. left my phone outside, i think”.

oh. jihoon feels the knot in his chest loosen up. he hasn’t fucked his up. you’re still here, he hasn’t lost his home.

“sorry about that”, you continue when he doesn’t respond, “didn’t mean to worry you”.

“no, it’s okay”, he offers, smiling when he notices that you’re wearing your pajama shirt inside-out, “i wasn’t that worried”.

it’s a lie, but you don’t need to know.

“anyway, i’m just going to chill out today”, you say as you pull out your coffee cup, “maybe cook a little, read a book”, you turn to him with another cup in hand, his cup. “wanna have coffee before you go off for work? it’s soonyoung’s tiger song for today, right?”

“he ditched me today”, jihoon pretends to be annoyed, but he can’t help the smile that grows on his face when you laugh, “i can hang around here, if that’s okay”.

“ofcourse”, you smile, and jihoon has to hold back from pulling you into a hug. you do it for him though, wrapping your arms around his waist and sighing into his shoulder. “i missed you”.

jihoon holds back from telling you the truth about his work today. and about the tensed car ride here. and how he ran up the stairs of your defective building. and how he hopes you’ll never get tired of holding him like this.

he’ll tell you later, he knows. later, when it’s not too freaky to tell you what you mean to him, when he’s sure he can say it out loud in words that make sense. later, when he’s sure he’s your home, too.

for now, he just wounds his arms around you and pulls you even closer.

“i missed you too”.

[familyabolisher]

Apologies if you've answered this before, but I've been following you for a while and the way you approach literary analysis is so interesting, and your takes have made me reflect on and reconsider the way I approach a text and how to respond to it! So I wanted to ask: when you read other people's takes/analysis for a particular piece of media, how do you determine if it's good or not? And not in a way where you decide it's "good" in the sense that the person you're reading has uncovered the One True Interpretation you could get out of that piece of media, but in the sense where you feel like it was worth your time, and hit the spots that you're looking for in particular when it comes to media analysis.

I'm asking because I've taken to reading more media analysis and commentary online a lot more nowadays, and sometimes I'll read something I'm not quite satisfied with but can't exactly articulate why I feel that way. I never know if it's in the particular language used or in the length, or in the details, because frequently I find that at the end of my reading I don't even disagree with the take or its premise, which makes my dissatisfaction all the more confusing. So I do like hearing about how other people approach things to try and figure things out for myself, and I respect a lot of your positions, so. How do you do it?

Thank you! I feel like “good/bad” is a very broad framework to be using here; I wonder if it might be more helpful to come to conclusions about analytical work based on how useful you found it. There’s a lot of critical work that I consider to be completely useless to me, but that doesn’t necessarily make it ‘bad’ or even ‘wrong’; it’s just not doing what I want it to be doing. Some questions you might want to ask could include:

Is this elucidating? Does this explain what it purports to explain, does it answer the questions it wants to answer and/or pose new questions that weren’t immediately legible in the text? Has it developed an idea clearly? Has it given you some new angles from which you can think about the text? In short: did you get something from reading it?

Is the argument followed to its furthest possible conclusion? What I mean by this is like, media analysis is often a process of asking a lot of “why” questions: why is X like this? Why is this significant? Why X and not Y?—over and over until you run out of questions to ask. I think the big thing to watch out for here is whether or not a piece of analysis lays out its observations as though events, characterisation, relationships, etc., are phenomena emerging organically (as though it were “real life”) rather than being narrative choices made with intention (and some impetus towards figuring out what that intention is). Saying that X character is like Y is far less compelling than saying X character is like Y because Z when Z is an argument that extends beyond the boundaries of the narrative itself. Narratives are a series of deliberate choices; we want to know why those choices were made and whether we agree with them.

To give an example: let’s say we’re talking about the significance of Shiv’s pregnancy in the final episode of Succession. Following it through to its conclusion might look like this:

I start out by saying, “Tom being favoured over Kendall as CEO of Waystar is in part due to Shiv’s pregnancy reaffirming the Roy family bloodline, something that Roman establishes Kendall as being functionally incapable of doing.” The first question we should ask here is: why is reaffirming the bloodline significant?

From here we can say, well, we know it’s significant because Roman uses the word ‘bloodline’ to mark Tom/Shiv as favourable, and this tells us that there is a logic of eugenics running through Logan’s empire. This is good, but we’re still operating in wholly diegetic territory ie. the only terms we’re setting for our argument are those of describing conditions internal to the narrative. The next question we’re asking is: why are the Succession writers bringing this question of eugenics and bloodlines into play here?

From here, we can go in a bunch of different directions—for argument’s sake, we can think about Succession’s relationship to imperial/monarchic narratives of dynastic succession crises and how the show generates tension in part by transposing those narratives onto an American capitalist media empire in order to suggest that networks of capitalist hegemony and the means by which such a hegemony is sustained can be discursively linked back to such dynastic interplay. We might then point to eg. Caroline and the British aristocracy and this question of blood purity that Logan’s relationship with her + his discarding of Connor introduces; can we think about the British imperial aristocracy as a crutch on which American capitalism rests, or are we being asked to consider how these imperial superpowers are a) functionally interchangeable and b) mutually sustaining, or? We can look at the fact that Sophie Roy is brown and Iverson is implied to be autistic (and obviously the fact that neither is biologically related to Kendall and the suggestion that social ‘inferiority’ is therefore hereditary) to identify whose bloodline a practice of eugenics within hegemony seeks to retain and who it seeks to dispossess, and how this links back to the willingness on the part of the siblings to collude with (or even openly support) a fascist when it becomes in their best interest to do so. We can ask questions about reproduction of the bloodline as a means of reaping the rewards of hegemony (Shiv) or punishment within the borders of said hegemony for impotence and sexual deviance (Kendall and Roman). All of these lead us from arguments about the internal conditions of the Roy family towards conditions of the ruling class articulated through the family structure. All of this is compelling, but it begs the question of: why are we able to extrapolate all of these conclusions from the narrative configuration of the Roy family? Where in the text is it evinced that this kind of metonymic reading is coherent?

Finally, we link this back to Succession by understanding the Roy family as effectively metonymic for the ruling class as a united body (and why it’s effective for a family unit to take on such a metonymic role! What does this tell us about the relationship between the cluster of kinship relations we call the “family” and hegemony?) as is pretty transparently evinced throughout the show, and which is what gives meaning to this series of observations and allows us to extract an argument towards thematic significance out of what was initially just a set of observations about what was ‘happening’ on-screen.

I hope this is a clear example—I just went with it because most people on this website are at least passably fluent in Succession by now, lmao. The point is, you keep asking questions until you’ve followed the throughline through as far as it can be followed. In evaluating a piece of critical writing, you always want to be asking: why is this there? Why is this important? A weaker piece of critical writing will often avoid or else seem not to consider these sorts of questions. As a general rule of thumb, the more a work of critical writing seems to take for granted, the weaker it tends to be.

How well does the argument match the expectations you might have? Is this line of interrogation something that you’ve considered before, and what conclusions did you draw? Does the argument fall in line with your conclusions; does it challenge or develop them by introducing something you hadn’t considered, or do you think that your understanding identified something that the argument missed? If you were asked the question that the piece purports to respond to, how would you respond?

What are the blind spots of the argument? This is similar to the above, but is specifically concerned with asking what the piece might have missed or what assumptions might be limiting its scope. This means looking for the assumptions upon which the argument rests and trying to unpack and challenge them in order to understand how they took the form that they did. An example of this might be the kind of “female rage”/“teenage girl ferality” arguments you often see circling about Yellowjackets: what narrative does this idea of girls’ youthful ‘rage’ implicitly exonerated from harm contribute to? What do we do when we reify the idea of ‘teenage girlhood’ as a unique, impenetrable state that affords those who ‘experience’ it a uniquely elevated condition, or when we flatten these characters into the apparently equalised category of ‘teenage girl’? How do these arguments elide questions of race in Yellowjackets as regarding eg. Lottie or Taissa, and how can we follow them through to think about blind spots not only in the argument but in the show itself? No argument can feasibly encompass every possible nuance and perspective that one could bring to a text, obviously, but a stronger piece of critical writing will try to get into these underlying assumptions with depth and thoughtfulness and try to put some work into showing why they came to the conclusions that they came to; again, it’s about what gets taken for granted, what the writer presumes can go unspoken, and whether we ought to drag it to the surface and take a better look at it.

How well is the argument substantiated? Here I would expect reference to the source material—how well are these references selected? Are they consistent? Is there some cherry-picking happening—can you think of a point in the text where the claims being made might be challenged or contradicted? Does the argument impose stasis or unilaterialism onto something that in the text is in fact depicted as dynamic or otherwise in development? How well does this hold up with your interpretation of these moments—can you interpret them differently? What do you make of that ambiguity?

Can you place a value judgement on the argument made? In other words: do you agree? This is basically just about synthesising your responses to all the other questions and evaluating how on the mark you think the argument is; how you would respond to it, how you might develop it, how it might have developed your understanding of the work or else can be applied to other parts of the text (or indeed, other texts).

Ultimately I think the best thing you can do here is develop your own positions on texts to the best of your ability—I find that writing my arguments out helps me to get to grips with them better—and engaging with analytical work relative to that, ie. going in with your own solid sense of understanding from which your response can be crafted; I have an older post here on some of the questions you can start asking when you’re looking to do so. Obviously this means keeping an open mind towards arguments that contradict your own or that you may not have thought of before, but knowing what you think and why you think it will make it a lot easier to notice what might be missing or contradictory in someone else’s work (or, again, what you yourself might have missed). Critical work is (imo) best thought of as a dialogue rather than a straightforward imparting of knowledge; how someone else’s analysis informs your own, and how yours informs theirs, without flattening this dynamic into a deference of superior authority on either end, is the clearest and most productive way to think about it all.

I hope this is helpful!

[gremlin-writes-angst]

"Lets get food"

The (short, less than 1k) beginning of my brother's best friend fanfic featuring Ash x Darlin

Currently unsure of what the whole fic rating will be but for this chapter id say it pretty safe.

content and trigger warnings: mention of vampire feeding, low energy, mentions of sleeping around.

I'd like to thank everyone who liked my original post about this idea. I had started writing a ( completely different) first chapter but wasn't feeling inspired till people started liking that post

a special thanks to @professionallyyappin and @dawnofiight . Thank you for rebloging my idea and just helping me feel motivated

Sorry for any grammar and spelling mistakes and enjoy :)

'Let's get food'

A seemingly normal text message 

That was the point,  so if anyone, more specifically David, saw it, he wouldn't think twice about it 

But what it meant was 

“ I need a ride after sleeping with a stranger”

Darlin didn't drive anymore, not after Gabe

And there was no way they were going to let David know how many people they slept with

Originally they would just walk home, in the dark sketchy parts of town

Until Asher saw them one day

“Darlin?”

He called out at the hooded figure

They ignored him

“ Darlin, I know that's you.”

They didn't know why he called them that, he was the only one

“What Asher?”

They turned to face Asher, his car stopping in the middle of the road.

Darlin looked around and as usual, no other cars were on the street

“ What are you doing out here? I don't know if you've checked the time recently but, it's not walking around time.”

He smiled at them

“I'm just- yeah”

They didn't want to admit the truth.

They couldn't let him tell David

“That's not a very good answer”

He laughed before leaning over and opening the passenger door from inside

“ get in, I'll take you where you need to be”

He offered but didn't demand,  like most of the men Darlin knew.

“ I'm- “

They take a moment to breathe,  feeling woozy From the blood loss

“ I'm all good Ashy”

He barked out a laugh

“ If you're calling me Ashy, you're not good.”

They couldn't argue.

So they climbed in, defending their self

“ This is just easier, I could handle myself”

Their sparky sentence was shorter than it typically would be. 

Another sign something was wrong

“ I know, but you don't seem at your full strength. And like you said, this is easier”

After a while he realized they weren't going to buckle their seat, so he leaned over to do so.

They simply rolled their eyes

Asher started to drive

Darlin Didn't say anything for a long time

he even though they might have dozed off.

Until they gasped and pointed

“Wendy's. Ashy we have to get Wendy's!”

They called him Ashy again,  he's starting to like it

Silently he pulls into the parking lot and parks

“ They have a drive through”

Darlin states 

“Darlin, If you're trying to hide what I think you're hiding from David, we're going to need more time.”

A vague sentence but Darlin caught on

“ lobby it is”

Darlin had a new pep in their step as they entered and started the order.

Once Darlin was done, Asher added his burger along with the same thing they ordered.

Before Darlin could get their wallet Asher had already Paid

It was a little disorienting, Darlin always paid, not because they preferred but simply because they knew the other wouldn't

They were too confused to even say thank you.

They found a table, amongst the sea of empty tables

Before Asher sat down their order was called, so he went to get it.

Setting the food down before going to fill up their drinks

When he returned, Darlin had already started to wolf down their burger

No pun intended

They didn't say a word as they reached for their drink, taking a swig before going back for a big bite

Asher just smiled to himself

When Darlin finished their burger they spoke

“ How'd you know what drink I wanted”

He jokingly rolled his eyes at the Question

“ I've known you for like, 8 years now. If I didn't know what drink you preferred I wouldn't be a good friend”

They started stealing fries from Ashers' plates, even though they still had their own heaping pile

With fries in their mouth, they said

“ I didn't know you considered us friends”

The sentence made Asher feel cold 

He prides himself on being a good friend to almost everyone. 

Darlin quickly caught on to Asher's negative reaction and tried to reverse it.

“ Not that you were bad or anything but I just thought you were David's friend,  and I was just an extension of David”

Darlin's words didn't seem to cheer Asher up, but he still smiled And pretended it was fine

“ Well I see you as your person, even if you are related to David, you are not just His little sibling to me”

Darlin felt chills at that

Good chills

Probably their first time getting good chills

They didn't realize that was important to them

But they couldn't let Asher know that

“I'm only 4 months younger Than him”

Asher takes a bite of his food before, with His mouth full, continuing the conversation

“I wasn't talking age, he's At least a foot taller Than you”

Darlin laughed and rolled their eyes.

They then pointed to the extra burger

“ Can I?”

Others would probably not find that short sentence charming,  but Asher did. 

At least in perspective 

Darlin was actively stealing Asher's fries but when It came to the burger they asked.

And when they asked, their voice was shy and sweet. 

Asher liked every part of Darlin', but it was a side the soft sweet side one they hid away, so it was like a treat for Asher

“ I got it for you. So yeah”

Darlins' energy seemed to dip again, not severely but Asher noticed it. 

He decides to hold back his thoughts for the day.

Darlin finished Their food and they left

The rest of the night was uneventful As he drove them home

He messaged them that night

'I know you can take care of yourself, but you don't have to'

After he sent it he felt vulnerable, so he tried to soften it

'We can get food to'

Low and behold a couple of days later he got a text

'Let's get food'

Followed By an address 

Darlin was letting Asher into a part of Their life.

A part only he was allowed

[biisexualemma]

happier (pt.6). rafe cameron

word count: 3.8k

warnings: unwanted passes, bit of angst, mostly fluff

requested: i guess soo

plot: you and rafe are figuring out this dating thing

a/n: it has literally been 6 months since i last updated series… whoops… i have some much written for this series but it’s all in bits and pieces and i’m trying to rewrite bits / put stuff together and it’s taking a minute lol but anyway enjoy the 2 people who will read this lol

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / masterlist

texting

bold = rafe

italics = y/n

hey

very ominous first text rafe

all i said was hey

exactly

and it's you so

what else am i supposed to say?

idk

'hey y/n'

'hi how are you?'

''sup what you up to?'

you'd rather me start the conversation with 'sup'

it's less serial killer-y so maybe

alright next topic please

YOU texted me rafe

yeah and you said i sounded like a serial killer so excuse me if i'm a little wounded

didn't think that was even possible mr big-shot kook prince

please never call me that again

because it's too on the nose?

you always this annoying?

nah i just like making things difficult for you

cuz your life is too easy as it is

you think you're so funny

i know you do too :)

you're still hanging around sooo

your eyes dragged away from your phone screen, and away from where rafe was currently typing out his response, when you heard a honk from outside your house. you peeped out the window and saw the twinkie pulled up outside, lights still on and engine running as they waited for you.

you grabbed your shoes and jacket, still holding onto your phone when another message popped up as you were making your way out of your house to meet your friends.

yeah yeah

just tell me what you're not doing tonight so i can come pick you up

you rolled your eyes at his presumptuousness, a small smile on your lips as you grabbed your keys and closed the door behind you. you texted back as you walked to the twinkie, hardly looking where you were going.

believe it or not i have plans

i don't sit around waiting for you to text me you know

i don't sit around waiting for you to text me you know

> why not? >:(

you let out a snort, shaking your head as you typed out a response just as you approached the beat up van where sarah and john b were waiting for you. you clumsily climbed into the back, sarah watching you fumble as your fingers and eyes remained glued to your phone screen.

my life does not revolve around you rafe cameron

as much as i'm sure you want it to

yeah i do actually

guess we don't always get what we want

this is a valuable lesson that you're long overdue to learn little trust fund baby

wow

you're actually so mean and for what

yeah i'm not very good at this flirting thing tbh

yeah i got that

yeah? did the serial killer comment tip you off?

amongst other things

ok well maybe i'll just remind you that i think about you more than i care to elaborate on right now

that was better...

you're learning

thank you

i'm trying my best

we'll circle back to that comment at some point though

don't think i'll forget that one

yeah you think about that while you're home alone tonight

wow

wait not like that

don't take it back now that was good

it's not what i meant!!

"what is she grinning about?" sarah quirked an eyebrow, muttering to john b as she watched you trying to buckle up with one hand while you texted with the other.

john b watched you in the rearview mirror, his eyebrows furrowed together slightly. neither of them could recall a time they'd seen you look so giddy, you were always misplacing your phone and now you couldn't tear your eyes away.

sarah gasped softly and john b's eyes quickly darted over to his girlfriend, wide and wondering what she suddenly knew that he didn't.

sarah grabbed john b's arm and shook it a little, all giddy herself now but john b still looked just as confused. "what? what? tell me!" he whined.

"she asked me and kie for advice the other night," she clarified, lowering her voice a little, though you were entirely consumed in your own conversation. john b's eyes were still full of confusion. he didn't understand girls at the best of times but this was beyond his comprehension all together. sarah rolled her eyes playfully. "about a boy."

john b glanced at you for a second before moving back to his girlfriend, shaking his head. "i didn't think y/n was even interested in guys."

"oh just because she didn't fall at your feet john b doesn't mean she doesn't like guys," sarah scoffed, hitting his chest lightly. john b went to defend himself but quickly stopped because he thought she might be onto something.

you suddenly grew aware of your surroundings, realising the twinkie was still stationary. your eyes lifted up from your phone for a second to see sarah biting back a grin and john b staring you out in the rearview mirror.

"uh," you looked around like something was wrong. "are we waiting for something or what? why are we still sitting here?"

"nope," sarah narrowed her eyes at you and you frowned at her, mouth opening slightly in confusion. she looked like she knew things. "c'mon get going, john b."

weird you thought, shaking your head when another message appeared on your phone.

i know what you meant don't worry ;)

no you don't

you'll know what i mean when i actually mean it

tease

shut up

i gotta go rick

who tf is rick

you

i'm rick?

yeah you're rick

i don’t understand

that's your name from now on

at least via text

so if anyone sees these messages they don't get suspicious

that's crazy

i lose my phone a lot it's not that crazy

that's not the crazy part

just play along please?

i'm not ready for people to find out about this yet

whatever this is

what is this again?

that's a question for another time

see you around

- rick

:)

-

you fell back against the blanket you'd laid out on the grass, eyes immediately falling upon the stars above you. you sighed contentedly, oblivious to the curious eyes that were watching you from beside you.

"you seem happy," jj spoke up from where he was sitting next to you. "what's that about?"

you snorted, your head rolling to the side so you could glance up at him. "what? i can't just be happy?"

he made a face at you, his hand nudging your arm. "you know what i mean," he shook his head. "you've been so tired and grumpy lately, no offence," he said the last part quickly when he saw your face contort into one that looked offended. "you just seemed like normal today. it was nice."

you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching the rest of the gang who'd gone for a quick swim. kie had launched herself onto pope, dunking him under the water and laughing hysterically when he came back up for air looking bewildered. sarah was floating on her back, eyes up at the stars while john b held his hands underneath her so she wouldn't sink down. you didn't feel like swimming after the amount of food you'd eaten so jj decided to sit with you and keep you company.

you shrugged. "i don't know," you could feel jj's eyes watching you. "i just feel more like myself i guess. i don't know why."

it was a bit of a lie. with everything out of the open between you and rafe, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. you thought it'd be hard to lie to your friends about it, but none of them really asked you outright so you didn't find yourself having to lie at all. everything just seemed to be going better for now.

"well i'm glad anyway," he gave you a soft smile. jj was a good friend, and most of the time he played into the reputation he had, but every now and again he would show the other side of him. he was loyal to his core and just wanted to see his friends happy. "you feel like swimming yet?" his lips stretched into a wide grin, nudging your shoulder as he tried to encourage you.

you couldn't help but smile back, he was infectious. you let your head roll back before sitting yourself upright. "fine, c'mon," you lifted your shirt over your head, throwing it at his face. "race you," you quickly jumped up, undoing your shorts as you ran towards the water, only stopping when you got to the edge to pull your shorts off the rest of the way.

jj was racing behind you, not bothering to remove anything other than his shirt as he whizzed past you and threw himself into the water, shoes and all. "cannon ball!" he screamed and pope, kie, john b and sarah all tried to clear out as quickly as they could but he didn't give them much notice before a crashing wave of water soaked them all even more. a chorus of angry jj's followed but you couldn't help but laugh before throwing yourself in after him.

—

texting

you awake pretty girl?

hey

y/n

rafe it's late

you asleep?

fast asleep yeah

that's why i'm txting you right now

come to the party

rafe it's 1 am i'm with my friends

still?

haven't they had enough of you

rude

i mean they're hogging you

how old are you?

ditch em c'mon

i'm more fun anyway

i'm gonna bet you're drunk

or high

and?

doesn't change anything

still wanna see you

you always this clingy with girls?

mmm funny

you know it's just you

you think i'd be texting you at this party if it wasn't just you

maybe no ones caught your eye yet

yeah you have

so get your ass over here or i'm coming to get you

relentless

you love it

hmmm

just come and get me

everyone will be asleep by the time you get here

on my way

can you drive?

'course i can

ok but are you sober enough?

don't worry about it

rafe

i'm good i promise

swear?

swear

half an hour later and you'd sneaked out of john b's house unnoticed and were sitting in the passenger seat of rafe's car. last time you were in this seat he was driving you home from a party, and now you were going to a party... with him.

"hey," he mumbled as you secured your seatbelt, his eyes raking over you, smile on his lips.

"hey yourself," you chirped, still pretty awake considering the late hour, you were used to running off no sleep most of the time. you noticed him staring at you instead of starting the car and driving. "what?"

"you look really pretty right now."

you glanced away from him, feeling your cheeks grow warm from the compliment. "shut up and drive, rafe," you mumbled, meeting his eyes quickly as he shook his head and breathed out a laugh.

"yes ma'am," he did as you said, driving you to the other side of town, to a house you didn't recognise but was probably four times bigger than your own. you felt a wave of anxiety all of a sudden when rafe parked the car and got out. he appeared again on the passengers side where you still sat, seatbelt on.

he opened the door, leaning on the frame of the car and ducking down to see you sat still. "c'mon," he urged but you quickly shook your head.

"this is a bad idea," you blurted out, eyes shifting to meet rafes. "i don't think i should go in there— definitely not with you."

rafe, for a split second, looked wounded but he quickly played it off. "you're overthinking it."

"rafe, your friends hate me," your lip involuntarily slipped into a small pout, your eyes not moving from his. "i can't just go to a kook party, when i hate kooks and they hate me."

your eyes moved down to your thigh where rafe had moved his hand to sit against your skin. you gulped. "i'm a kook and i don't hate you," he reassured, giving your thigh a squeeze before shifting his hand. "if anyone has a problem with you being here they can take it up with me."

"rafe," your voice came out smaller than you had intended. your mind was pretty focused on his hand and where it was moving, until you heard a click and your seatbelt was retracting. "i don't want you messing things up with your friends over me."

he shook his head, his hand latching onto yours and tugging you out of the passenger seat. he closed the car door and guided you towards the house. "'told you they're not my friends."

"still— won't it make things awkward—"

"oh my god," he turned around, smile on his lips when he came to halt, you nearly bumping into his chest. "i told you i don't care what people think, and i really don't care what my friends think."

he let go of your hand, moving his hands to either side of your face. your breath caught in your throat when he moved his face directly in front of yours. he squished your cheeks together, his stomach churning when you looked up at him with your big, nervous eyes.

"c'mon," he urged again. "you'll be fine s'long as you're with me," he offered you a reassuring smile, hands slipping from your face, his arm moving to sit on your shoulders, pulling you close into him. "you're good, ok?"

you took his word for it, trusting him in that moment that everything would be fine as long as you stayed with rafe.

—

"do you want another drink?" rafe hummed the question to you, his fingertips grazing the skin of your arm, before moving back down to sit snug on your waist. his eyes were looking up at you from where you sat on his lap.

you had relaxed somewhat since you got here, making yourself comfortable on rafes lap after he insisted that no one was watching, nor cared. you took his word for it and he wasn't wrong, the people at this party were too high or drunk to care who's lap you were sitting on.

you shrugged, glancing at your empty cup. you hadn't drank much, it was already late and you didn't feel like having a hangover tomorrow so you didn't push it. "i could do a water."

"water? sure, i got you," he nodded, repositioning you so you sat back on the sofa while he went on the hunt for water.

you propped your head up with your hand, resting your elbow on the arm of the sofa. you peered out the corner of your eye when you felt someone sit next to you.

"hey you're y/n, right?" you turned to face the guy that had sat himself beside you, he wore a small smile on his face, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. you recognised him from around town but not enough to know his name.

"uh, yeah," you gave him a polite, albeit uncomfortable smile before turning away from him, hoping to discourage him continuing to talk to you.

"i think i've seen you around the club," he carried on, not picking up on anything. you nodded, pursing your lips. "i'm alex."

he held out his hand for you to shake, you looked down at it in almost disbelief but shook it still to be polite. "cool," you said with a twinge of sarcasm.

"sorry if this is forward— i just think you're really pretty— i've been watching you for a while—"

"you've been watching me?" you repeated his words, your brows furrowing slightly.

he let out an awkward laugh. "not in a stalker-y way— i just noticed you is what i meant."

"sure," you nodded. "i'm kinda here with someone else though. sorry," you tried to let him down easy, with another small smile despite your discomfort.

"ok well you're sitting here alone," he breathed out a laugh, as if he'd caught you in a lie.

your smile drooped a little. "he's getting me a drink. not that i need to explain myself."

he huffed, seeming to grow agitated with you. "you could just say you're not interested instead of coming up with a lame excuse."

your mouth hung open slightly. "the truth actually— not that i even owe you that but sure whatever."

"last time i try talking to a fucking pogue," he muttered under his breath before picking himself up and walking away. "not even that pretty," he muttered under his breath.

you sat for a couple minutes in silent disbelief, blinking a few times before pushing yourself up off the sofa and beginning your search for rafe. you'd had enough of this party and he was your ride home.

you finally found him in the kitchen on the other side of this humongous house, filling up a cup with some water. you approached from behind him, feeling his body stiffen when he felt your hands snake around his torso.

"hey," you felt him relax slightly when you spoke, realising it was you holding onto him. he turned to face you, your hands gripping the shirt he was wearing as he looked down at you.

"oh hey," he mumbled, you were standing pretty close but your eyes shifted about the room. "what's up? i was just coming to bring you—"

"can we go now, please?" you cut him off quickly, eyes moving back to his pleadingly. his brows furrowed a little when he saw your anxiety-ridden expression again.

"you're good here," he spoke in a hushed voice, setting aside the cup in his hand so he could move his hands to your waist. "we're good."

he tried to reassure you but it wasn't enough, you wanted to go home, you didn't want to see another self-entitled kook tonight (excluding the one in front of you).

you shook your head, adamant, "no— rafe— i want to leave."

his grip on you tightened a little. "did something happen?" his brows knitted together slightly, standing up a little straighter.

"no," you shook your head quickly. "i just want to go— rafe— please—"

"ok, ok," he rooted for his car keys in his pocket, his free hand grabbing yours and pulling you out of the kitchen. "we'll go, c'mon."

you followed him out of the party, trailing behind him, he helped you into the passenger seat, even trying to buckle you in until you insisted that you got it and that you were fine.

"i'm sorry," you mumbled after a while of sitting in silence, reflecting on your actions. rafe driving on the quiet roads, not saying a word or looking in your direction. "i didn't mean to ruin your night."

"you didn't," he spoke quietly.

you eyed him up, his hands tight on the steering wheel, eyes locked on the road, lips pulled into a tight line. "i feel like you're mad at me."

"now you wanna talk?"

"you're mad at me."

"i'm not mad at you."

"rafe—"

"i'm not mad at you," he repeated, a little shorter than before. "i just want you to talk to me."

"i am talking to you—"

"you know what i mean," he cut you off again. "i can't help if you don't talk to me."

you were quiet for a second before speaking again. "this guy was rude to me at the party, that's all," you felt his eyes move over to you for a split second. "i felt out of place and wanted to leave."

he thought on it for a minute. "rude to you how?"

you chewed on your bottom lip, not wanting to answer him, partly because you were still mad but mainly because you were kind of embarrassed.

you huffed. "he was trying to hit on me and when i told him no he got all hurt and mean."

rafe was quiet for a minute, he was picking his words and his tone carefully, trying not to let his imagination run wild. "he was mean to you?"

"it's just guys, they get like that— bruised egos you know, kooks are the worst for it," you shrugged. "i didn't want to tell you back then because i didn't want to make it into a big thing or cause a scene. i just wanted to leave, with you."

"ok, but you're fine? did he try anything?" his knuckles were turning white at this point, you found it hard to look away.

you shook your head, but when he looked over at you for a second for confirmation you spoke, "i'm fine. it was just weird and awkward."

he nodded and you were both quiet for a while after that.

you knew rafe was a hot head, you knew he didn't always think before he acted, and maybe you should've just told him what happened straight away but part of you was glad you didn't.

"where am i dropping you off?"

"john b's is fine."

"won't your dad wonder where you are?"

your eyes focused on the road ahead still but you could feel him stealing glances at you. "i already told him i'd be at john b's tonight."

"you sure?" you nodded and so he dropped you back off at the house he'd picked you up from a few hours ago. the sun was just starting to rise, creating just enough light so that you could see his face. he still looked pissed.

you were looking at him with big, tired, bloodshot eyes when he turned his head towards you. your eyelids drooping slightly the longer you focused on him.

"y'promise you're good?" he mumbled.

you nodded. "do you promise you're not angry at me?"

he rolled his eyes, glancing away for a second, the corner of his lip curling upwards softly. "could never be angry at you when you look like that."

"like what? exhausted?"

he hissed softly, shaking his head. he reached his hand out, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, guiding you closer to him. "you're always so fucking pretty," his eyes raked over your face one last time, kissing your forehead before immediately shoving your face away with the palm of his hand. "now get outta' my sight, you're turning me on looking like that."

you snorted, ignoring the way your stomach fluttered at his actions. "you're such a boy," you joked before saying goodnight and hopping out of his car.

you walked up to the house with a small smile on your face, despite the bump in the night, you felt good about where this was going with rafe. you felt positive, giddy and your head was kinda foggy thinking about him.

"y/n?" you stopped in your tracks when you heard your name from his mouth. "was that rafe's car?"

shit.

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