#my set(s) have slightly different pieces but generally same thing
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shadeslayer · 1 year ago
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weird question no one will have an answer for:
does anyone know / can find out what all the extra ones in old professional drafting tools compass sets are. i have a couple from an uncle who was an architect in the 70s-80s and i want to use it bc i have use for a compass in doing my sun circles drawings but theres a Lot of things in here idk fuck all about. like can anyone explain these to me or find a website or article or something that does beyond "those compass-y ones are a compass and the compass ones w/o lead are dividers"
example:
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writergeekrhw · 1 year ago
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In the special features for Star Trek, the producers and writers often refer to Trek as a "period piece" in the same vein as Jane Austen or Bonanza, just set in the future instead of the past.
With this in mind, 90's Trek had very distinctive language usage. It is formal, even stilted at times, but it comes off as erudite and evolved. Even Patrick Stewart has commented how he could always tell when Star Trek was on TV because he'd hear the dialogue and recognize that distinctive formalness.
From a narrative perspective, this choice falls in line with the whole "humanity has evolved" theme. But from a technical writing standpoint, it seems to have served a much more important purpose of setting the time period by scrubbing the dialogue of any time-stamped, current slang.
So in this future universe setting, casual, current language (such as F bombs) would be akin to one of us using slang from the 1600's. It's jarring not because it's crass (for some it is), but because it cracks the suspension of disbelief that what we are watching is set in different time period because they are using our language, not theirs.
I apologize for the massive run up to this question (maybe I've completely missed the mark with my musings) but what were the instructions you were given that gave DS9's dialogue that "period piece" feel?
Good observations regarding language use in Star Trek.
There were no specific instructions on how to write "proper" Star Trek dialogue. It was mostly learning by doing. But we adhered to the same unwritten rules as TNG, and that could be gleaned from reading scripts and watching episodes. Once I started on the job, a few things became quickly apparent to me:
Avoid slang.
Avoid religious expressions.
Generally, dialogue between Starfleet characters should be respectful (or even warm), slightly formal, and thoughtful.
Playful is fine, but not too goofy.
Use metric units.
Most aliens don't use contractions or use them minimally.
There are probably plenty more that I learned (and adhered to) unconsciously, but those were the ones that jump out in memory.
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bookstantrash · 7 months ago
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A/N: okay so it’s been a good while since I’ve posted anything here on tumblr but the last year has been kinda insane as I’m nearing graduation, and my new internship is keeping me very busy.
I have two more one shots written and one half written, but after that I don’t know how long till I’m able to write again and post. Either way, I hope you enjoy this one shot!
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But this love is brave and wild
Nesta had not intended to snoop through Cassian’s papers. He was — if she was honest with herself — the most organised out of them. Nesta Archeron being a messy person was something that had come as a surprise to Cassian and he teased her endlessly about it.
“I can find everything I need with no problem,” she had argued once when they were laying in bed, “therefore I am not messy. My organisation method is just different from yours General ‘I Colour Code My Folders’ Archeron”
“Whatever you say Nes,” Cassian had laughed, tightening his arms around her. Her mate, she had discovered, was an incorrigible cuddler “I still love you even if you don’t believe in the practicality of keeping things in one place”
She was always leaving books and hairpins all over the House, discarding her boots after training somewhere and forgetting to take them to their room, her notes about the Valkyries, military and Mind Stilling techniques forgotten and scattered in any surface available. The House was constantly gathering and leaving them on her desk, but it usually took her two to three days until she got the courage to sort and put them away properly.  Cassian’s tidy and neatly arranged papers — sorted by importance and filled with carefully written notes — made his desk a stark contrast to her mountain of spread out ones in her side of the room they had transformed into their study room.
They had learned early on that they would never be capable of doing any actual work in their own room when their bed was only a few steps away.
Not that they had not fucked in each and every surface of the House, their study included. It just made the temptation of being all over each other slightly smaller.
Nesta had entered the study and was tidying her desk after the House had made the bathtub water cold and dumped on top of her towel the papers she had forgotten at the dining table.
“I was going to get them later,” Nesta had said, and in turn the military book Cassian had lent her had fallen on the little floating table she used when she wanted to read in the bathtub. She had been meaning to return it to him for over a week, the book forgotten amid her pile of romance books on her bedside table.
“Fine,” she had added, “I got the memo, I will put them in the study.”
So Nesta had gotten dressed in a bathrobe — she had every intention of going back to a bubble bath as a reward for tidying up her things — reordered her romance book stack, and set off for the study, grabbing any paper she had forgotten along the way. She was putting his book on the shelf when she noticed that Cassian had a few papers outside his drawer, something unusual to him.
“I better at least put the paperweight on top of them,” she thought to herself. She did not want to mess up her mate’s drawers and folders in her attempt to clean his desk.
Cassian had left in a hurry after lunch to Illyria — Emerie, Balthazar and him were trying to transform an old property into an orphanage and residence for those who had no place to go. For now the plans were to see how things would go in Windhaven, and then replicate the same in other camps. Apparently some problems had arisen concerning the renovations and he had left to sort things out. That explained why his space was uncharacteristically ‘messy’ for his standards.
Nesta lined his pens and was stacking the papers in a pile when one in particular caught her eye. Most of them were reports regarding Illyria or the Valkyries training plans, but the small piece of paper full of bullet points and notes scribbled in a hurry was neither.
“Is this a checklist of some sorts?” she mumbled to herself, reading it. If it was, Nesta could not make sense of it, for there were sometimes only a page number and an acronym in the same bullet point — “pg. 43, UTOT” —  or phrases and even single words thrown around that made no sense — “ smell of rain”, “traditional dances”, “unicorns”, “pudding”, “peppermint”, “braids” and so on.
The list intrigued Nesta. Maybe Cassian was playing scattergories or some other game with Azriel or Gwyn again and had forgotten to throw it away. Nesta and Emerie had since long ago given up on playing with them — their competitive streak when combined was insufferable, and both girls had decided they would rather discuss their latest read than go through a discussion if “ice” could be considered a colour or not — but Cassian kept playing. According to him their bickering was amusing to watch despite the chances of him winning being rare.
Nesta wondered if Cassian had other lists somewhere, if together they could help her make sense of what they were exactly. She would have to ask him when he came back — which she hoped happened soon. It was almost time for dinner, and they always had their meals together. When they had an assignment that did not require them to stay more than a day away — Nesta had accepted the position of emissary, although she chose which places she wanted to go and with who she wanted to work with, not to say that it gave her a chance to travel for free —  they always tried to come back in time to share meals together. And Cassian had also promised to bake a cake for her, nevermind they lived in a magical house who could do it itself.
So Nesta returned to her bubble bath, the hot water making her sigh with pleasure. A book appeared on her floating table moments later.
“Is this your way of saying ‘good job’ for organising my things?” she asked the House, which made a peppermint tea appear too.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile, and the faelight near the sink glowed brighter, as if it was saying ‘you’re welcome’.
Nesta ended up staying in the bath until her fingers resembled an old lady’s and she had finished her book. It was now late afternoon and no sight of Cassian. She debated starting another book, but she knew it would make her miss her mate even more. She always pictured him as the love interest in her novels.
“Pull yourself together,” Nesta said to herself “it has been less than a day. It is not like we have to be attached to each other all the time”
Truth to be told, Nesta had become rather clingy when it came to Cassian — not as much as him, she doubted there existed someone as affectionate and tender as her mate — but after their mate and wedding ceremony she found herself more comfortable expressing her feelings. She enjoyed having lazy days where she and Cassian would stay near the fireplace — either reading or just talking — or when Cassian would try and teach her how to cook — she now managed to not burn bread but that was it. He was always touching her — a hand on the small of her back, a brush of his hand against hers when he was passing her food, intertwining their legs when they were laying down, flicking her nose when she got annoyed at him… it seemed impossible for him to keep his hands to himself. And that did not bother Nesta at all. In fact, she loved it, and she had realised that she had denied herself of love and made herself so touch starved for so long that now that she could bask in it she was becoming greedy.
For her utter annoyance, Cassian did not return in time for dinner. Nesta ended up going to Feyre’s house to have dinner, and the sight of Nyx — who had just begun to walk — cheered her up a little, as did the chocolate cookies Elain had baked, although she could not help but think about the chocolate cake she had been promised.
Cassian ended up arriving at the House very late into the night, finding Nesta on their bed buried beneath furs, even with the fire lowly crackling in the hearth.
“Hello Nes,” Cassian greeted his mate the second he stepped inside their room, leaving a kiss on top of her head to not interrupt her reading.
“You are late,” was all she said, turning a page. She had ended up choosing one of his war texts to keep herself busy, but his scrawled notes on the margins of the pages did not help her longing.
“I am sorry sweetheart,” he kneeled on the floor beside their bed, taking her free hand on his and playing with her wedding band “Things at Windhaven took longer to resolve than I had intended and Emerie and Balthazar wanted to go over some new plans”
“What can I do to make you forgive me?” Cassian kissed her fingers, giving her his best puppy eyes.
“For starters you can take a bath,” Nesta wrinkled her nose at the dried mud on his boots “And dry your hair properly, I would rather not have you winning about feeling sick later”
“As you wish, Lady Death. Even if the idea of being bedridden and having you take care of me is very tempting” he said with a wink “I will leave you to your book in the meantime.”
Cassian came back less than ten minutes later, leathers gone in favour of soft cotton pants and no shirt, drying his hair with a towel.
“Bath taken and dirty boots have been put away,” he declared, placing the towel on a chair — the House vanishing it moments later — and grabbing a comb.
He sat beside Nesta on the  bed, not having to say anything, only extending the brush in her direction. It had become natural to care for each other’s hair. Nesta still remembered the day she had asked her mate for help with the pins keeping her braid in place, Cassian almost falling in his rush to get to her. He had tenderly taken each one out, massaging her scalp later and carefully brushing her hair.
And the next time they had taken a bath together he had grabbed the shampoo to wash her hair before she could even move. Nesta had almost fallen asleep in the tub with the way he gently shampooed and rinsed her hair. Cassian had confessed to her one day that he had an unhealthy obsession with her hair.
“Oh I know,” she had said with a small secretive smile “I see how you look at me when I am braiding it”.
She also remembered the first time he had ever seen her with her hair down and had called it beautiful, making her blush furiously. And since he began taking care of it Nesta could swear that it had gotten stronger and shinier.
Considering how silky and shiny his hair was, it did not surprise her at all.
Nesta, it turned out, also had an unhealthy obsession with her mate’s hair.
She enjoyed washing and combing it, be it after a bath or after he had come back from a flight from somewhere. She enjoyed learning new braids to braid his hair, especially now that Emerie was teaching her traditional Illyrian hairstyles. She had gotten interested after she saw his hair for their wedding-mate ceremony.
“The Illyrans take great pride in their rituals,” Emerie had told her during the party after the ceremony “Back when we were constantly at war, many years ago during Enalius time, the wives of the warriors would braid tokens of good luck and protection for their husbands. Those with long hair also asked them to apply that pattern to their hairstyle, and we integrated in our culture the costume of different braid patterns depending on the occasion: wars, festivals and ceremonies such as burials and weddings”
“The hairstyle Cassian has now is the common braid style used at wedding ceremonies at Windhaven” Emerie had given her a soft smile “Cassian has no living female relatives, so he asked me to do it for him. I’ve never seen him sit so still for so long”
“Could you teach me?” Nesta had asked, feeling shy all of a sudden “I would like to learn them all so I can braid his hair… and our children’s when the time comes.”
“Of course,” her friend had said, and now whenever they had time Emerie would teach her.
Nesta slowly unknotted Cassian’s hair, and by the way he sighed she knew it would not take long for him to fall asleep.
“All done,” she declared, placing the comb near her book on the bedside table.
“Thank you, Nes” he said, slipping under the furs. He intertwined their legs, hugging her close to himself and burying his face on her neck.
Nesta sighed, instantly feeling warmer. Cassian was like a walking furnace, and even without a shirt he was way warmer than her.
“Am I forgiven now, xe nhia?” he asked, nuzzling her neck “I have bathed, dried my hair and am now fulfilling my duties as your personal Illyrian heater.”
“Perhaps.” she ran her fingers over his arm wrapped around her “You do own me a cake, which I was looking very forward to”
“What if I also made you pudding,” he began trailing kisses over her shoulder “would you like that xe r-endy?”
The terms of endearment in Illyrian made her feel so warm and giddy that Nesta almost let slide one word Cassian had said: pudding.
It was one of the words written on that piece of paper, and now she had the perfect opportunity to ask about it.
“Funny of you to ask me about pudding,” she began nonchalantly “I read something about it today”
“You did?” she could hear the surprise in his voice “Please tell me you were not attempting to cook, we all know how it went last time”
“I set fire to the kitchen one time and you never let it go,” she ruffed with annoyance “No, I did not attempt to cook. But I did find a rather interesting and confusing list with the word pudding on it.”
“What,” Cassian raised his head from her shoulder, and Nesta turned around on his arms to look at him.
“I was tidying up my things when I noticed your desk was uncharacteristically messy. I had only planned to put a paper weight on your papers to hold them down but I ended up reading your list,”
“I am sorry if I did not respect your privacy,” Nesta added in a rush, afraid Cassian might get angry “I did not mean to pry but my curiosity got the better of me and I ended up reading it.”
“I am not mad xe nhia,” Cassian said with a soft smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear “You are free to read any and all papers I have. I have nothing to hide, especially from my mate.”
“I am just embarrassed. That is all” he added, and she could see a faint blush dusting his light brown skin.
“Why would you be embarrassed?” she asked, furrowing her brows.
“Because,” he took a deep breath “that was one of the lists I made of topics I wanted to talk with you about. Ever since I met you back when you were human and I used to collect the queen’s letters from you, ever since then I would think of fake conversations and scenarios, building entire conversations inside my head so I could impress you with my comebacks.”
“So that time you stayed circling the house for ten minutes…” she inquired.
“I was compiling a list of chosen insults to throw your way, responses to an invented argument” he groaned, hiding his face on her shoulder “Like a complete fool.”
“You did this back when I was human?” Nesta asked, her love for her big kind hearted mate growing impossibly bigger.
“I never stopped, which might make me even a bigger fool than I was back then,” he admitted, face still hidden “Even after that, when you were Made and I used the excuse of exercising my wings to come and see you, and being together with you felt both so close yet so far given the circumstances”
“Cassian…”
“And even later, when we started living at the House and you were going through so much, trying to get better… I kept coming up with them. Topics I wanted to discuss with you, when we were together but not together. When it was just sex, and I was willing to take whatever you gave me because a little of your time, a little of you, was infinitely better than nothing at all.”
“Conversations we could have had, that I wanted us to have. Issues that I wanted to get your opinion on, if only I was not such a coward. It was always so difficult— I was so scared of ruining whatever I had managed to build with you, of losing you forever” he sighed, finally raising his head “I kept all of them. All of the lists. And I keep finding new things I want to talk with you about and since we got together it seems the list never stops growing. As if I am making up for the time lost, because now we do have that time”
Nesta did not know what to say in answer to that. Sometimes, when she had a bad day and felt like the old bitter and angry Nesta — the one who drowned her problems in alcohol and refused to let herself feel anything good at all — she had to remind herself that she was deserving of the love she had now. That she was deserving of her sisters — the old and the new ones — and of her friends and family.
That she was deserving of such a good male like Cassian. Her mate, her husband, her friend and her family.
“You can laugh if you want,” Cassian said, sounding a bit nervous about her reaction “Cauldron knows I must sound like a madman creating make believe arguments” 
“Why would I laugh when my mate loves me so much that he cannot help but think of me literally every single moment?” Nesta arched an eyebrow, letting all of her love and adoration for him shine through their bond.
“What you just said is book love interest level, Cassian” she kissed him, burying her hands in his hair “I would be a fool to laugh.”
Nesta could see the relief in his eyes and she smiled. “You can ask me anything you want to know, anytime. Especially if it means you will cook more sweets for me, xe porang termireco”
Cassian groaned, rolling them so his weight pressed her down deliciously.
“You will be the death of me, Lady Death” he whispered, nipping at her ear.
“I thought you were tired from your flight” she breathed as he started kissing her neck.
“You know what you speaking Illyrian does to me,” he argued, “especially when you call me your handsome husband ”
And Nesta made sure to call him plenty of things in Illyrian in the next hours, both of them falling asleep only when the sun was rising.
tag list: @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @arinbelle @letstakethedawn @katekatpattywack @nestaarcheron @imagine-me @sv0430 @starryblueskies7 @live-the-fangirl-life @valkyriewarriors @readskk @wannawriteyouabook @imwritingthesewords @rainbowcheetah512 @moodymelanist @castielspelvis
[Reblogs/likes/comments are always welcomed!!]
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bakingwithmair · 1 month ago
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Journal Two - Naan
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Welcome back! This next recipe is naan, a leavened flatbread that's usually dipped in curry or hummus. It seemed like a middle skill level compared to the simpler banana bread and artisan bread. I used this recipe because the instructions were relatively simple and I didn't need an electric mixer to knead the dough. Also, there are pictures of every step off the recipe that are super helpful to reference.
There aren't many ingredients, but I did have to go to the store for plain yogurt, yeast, and anise seeds. I felt kind of confident at the start, although a bit of me also believed I would mess up and end up with inedible goo.
Yeast is required, which I've never used, so I went out and bought the key rising ingredient. They only came in packs of three which I was slightly annoyed by at first, but remembered I have two more breads to make and need to stock up on yeast anyway.
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The recipe instructed I use a fork to mix the wet and dry ingredients, which took a while to get the consistency it needed. When I got to kneading by hand, the stickiness of the dough made me cringe. Some of it wouldn't scrape off, I even washed my hands halfway through the process to melt the globs of dough stuck on my fingers.
Working with my hands like this relaxed me. Not at first, when its super sticky, but once its a rubbery ball of dough ready to rise. Folding the dough over itself over and over again is calmly productive.
I covered it with plastic wrap and let it rest in my bedroom for one hour. Here's the dough before and that process.
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There we go!
Like the recipe said, the dough doubled in size. It felt like getting a present to come back to a fluffy bowl of dough.
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I shaped the dough into a flat naan without a measurer, which I now regret. I think most of them ended up too thick and not big enough. Without a rolling pin, I used the pink cup above to roll the dough. I got super focused on each piece, making sure they were all the same size and thin enough. I swear, I would roll a chunk of dough into a perfect flat slice, only for it to shrink into something more resembling a brick.
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The piece of naan above looks like a hot pocket, I just noticed.
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The room got so smoky, I put the electric fan on blast since I'm always scared of setting off the fire alarm. Each side cooked on the pan for a minute. However, the smell of char and smoke made me anxious, and I definitely flipped some pieces over thirty seconds too early.
I spread a small amount of butter and sprinkled some parsley on the bread, then set them in a towel-lined plate to keep them warm, like the recipe suggests.
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So, here's the finished product(s). Fresh off the pan, I was really worried about the taste. There's greek yogurt in it, am I gonna taste that? The anise seed's distinct smell made for an equally distinct taste. It was an optional ingredient, and not one I think I'd use again. The parsley and butter added a nice little touch of extra flavor.
I tried the bread with my roommates, and the general consensus was very positive! I was certain they were all gonna taste like raw dough, but once they were cool and I figured out which ones were undercooked, I tasted a pretty good piece of bread! My roommates asked me to make them again soon- I think I might!
I never had such an interest in baking savory things like bread. But I really want to use this recipe again, or a different one, with my own modifications (no anise seeds!)
I'm still unsure exactly what bread I'll make next, but it'll definitely be a loaf. I'm thinking maybe sour dough?
Bye!
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kkusuka · 4 years ago
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(i had to repost lol- it wasn’t showing up on my page)
this the request: part 3 of thiccy gf hcs ??? with kuroo, terushima, sakusa, and daichi and/or atsumu 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 i must be fed
i understand your need for them
and as a member of the thunder-thigh committee, i am happy to write about my fellow sexy women! (another 4:56 am ramble i refuse to delete)
part one
part 2 <3
i mixed this with this ask ;  Pt. 3 of the thicc af gf with Aone, Osamu, Kyotani, Daichi, Kuguri, and Terushima plz? 🥺
this got wayyyyyyyyy long
4, 685 words. my finger slipped?
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Kuroo tetsuro
this guy has been trying to get you since first year
he’s that dedicated
and you didn’t even notice, he was just a flirty friend who helped you with science
(even when he would practically put you in his lap while he went over things)
lo and behold, he finally got his chance during the third year culture festival
yeah as in he waited a whole three years for this
Eh, once again, had a whole pan to make you see him as your great future husband, aka the haunted house (a good excuse to have you hold onto him)
He has to give it to class 2-4, the did a damn good job, it was scary
Long story short you fell on top of him, boobs in face hands-on ass
~heaven~
Mans actually asked you to be his girlfriend right there, groping you and murmuring between your boobs. (he wouldn't have gotten up if the next group wasn’t approaching.)
From then on he’d literally do anything for the ass
He’s a big simp and we all know it.
Like When you wear shorts he has to ‘pull them down’ aka feel you up while pulling the hem of your shorts down ever so slightly.
Or when he gets on a knee right behind you to ‘tie his shoe’, but the school shoes have no laces.
He could be a bit more creative and he wanted to look under your skirt.
When he wants to cut the bull shit he’ll just lift the back of your skirt and rub around for a but, to hell with all the other kids in the hallway.
(did I mention that he puts things on the highest shelves so he can walk up behind you and practically dry hump you.)
Speaking of simp nation
You can't really wear anything without setting him off
Shorts drive him absolutely nuts, it's insane. But it isn't his fault that most of your shorts are spandex that cut off right at the beginning of your thighs, it's like a homemade booty lifter. He just can’t help but wanting to cop a feel.
Or the color red in general. It is ridiculous, the guy rips everything when he tries to take it off too. So that stunning red cocktail dress with the lace-up sides was not unwearable, and you only had it on for like 2 hours. And that was only because it was a friend's 18th birthday party you were both invited to.
(thanks to kuroo not letting you out of his arms you both were late and left early.)
((in his defense you looked like a full course meal and it was giving him severe blue balls, and he’s only seen you for a few minutes))
Halloween, you know. the one night you could dress up as anything. any you decide to go as a cat-girl in a maid costume. And you expected him to just take that sitting down? Hell no. the red thigh highs AND the corset middle? You're lucky it lasted as long as it did.
That my dear was bravery. His color. A cat. And a short skirt. With thigh highs!
And so, he did what he did all those other times, dragged you to sit on his lap, and opening your thighs, and like a good girl you’ll let him
If you could already tell, he gives no shits to whos watching, let ‘em see (they really never do but you get the point)
He’s also a prime thigh groper, especially when he wants to keep your legs open, he also loves thigh hic
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Terushima Yuji
Another shower-offer
You were already he's so why can't he let everyone know?
Speaking of you being his, he doesn't tell people how you guys don’t together, with good reason considering you practically beat him up
Not really but that’s what he calls it, basically he tried to get with one of your friends at a party.
She just happens to not be interested in men and has a wonderful girlfriend, so she was uncomfortable but couldn't tell him to leave her alone
So you took fate into your own hands, literally, you stole Fate from class 3-2’s drink and poured it on him before slapping him and telling him about how he was a pig.
And he fell in love, you looked like an angel, a really hot angel, it didn't help you were in a white dress either
And from then on he literally once or twice, got on his knees for you, asking to give him a chance.
Honestly, it got annoying, so you just agreed to make it go away. It did, but you also gained a perv of a boyfriend who has an insatiable love for your lower half
He’s a simple creature, do take caution of his fragile being
So that means all those times you bend over in front of him he was slowly cracking and trying to figure out where the nearest storage closet is.
He thought he was having heart palpitations when he saw you in the damn dress again, apparently, he didn't see all of it. Specifically the v-neck top, and the fact it only went to the end of your ass. Needless to say, he made sure to walk behind you on every staircase that you went on
Another set off is yoga legging, like the lululemon ones, that people wear all the time. They fit you great, really really great. They were supposed to work out in them???? Why were they so skin-tight????? And he also figured out that you wore things because of them. Instant nut.
How you ask, simple.
One time he saw your underwear line through the pants and he pointed them out, they did make it seem like your ass was super soft so he saw his chance and took it.
So the next time you wore them and he didn't see the lines he was like ??????
And thus began the “Yuji hunt for lineless underwear” and he found the thongs
And you received the fucking of your life soon after.
Oh! And there’s any time you go to the beach. Literally every time.
No cap.
The first time was when you wore a red one-piece and he practically went feral. It wasn't really a one-piece if it was see-through and had the lowest neckline on the planet.
Everyone was looking at you.
He practically fucked you on the beach but held off until you got back to the hotel room.
He’s way more forward when he wants to fuck, if you could imagine. He’ll just walk up to you and tell you he wants to get some, like right now.
If you can even ignore him, he’ll throw an arm around your waist and grope around your legs, all the way to the apex.
It is also not below him to try and get you off while still wearing underwear that he will be taking after.
(i didn't say anything about his stash off orgasm ruined underwear? My bad.)
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Sakusa Kiyoomi
Going beyond the fact he even has a girlfriend, y’know considering, but the fact that no one knew who you were until you showed up at nationals to cheer him on
(atsumu was even starting to think that you didn't exist and that poor kiyoomi just imagined you up, so can imagine his shock when you ran up to said boy after they won)
The whole dating thing wasn't the shocking part; it was the fact that you looked like you walked off of the Milan runway.
And you were wearing leggings and sakusa's jacket, all of a sudden everyone was interested in how that happened
It was a kind of a boring story, someone had spilled coffee in a shop that you both happen to be in
And he watched you offer the man the same disinfectant wipes that he uses!
And in the most sakusa way possible he followed you out of the shop and tried to talk to you.
An exchange of numbers and many awkward conversations (and boners) later, you were a couple.
Back to that hug, like the many others, he's let you have, it’s all just to feel how soft you were
But poor touch -starved sakusa doesn't know what to do with any of these pent up feelings.
And he has a loooooooot of them.
Multiple occasions have shaped the poor germ-boy into the horny-tornado he has become
so he’s not really into what you’re wearing, it’s more about what you’re doing
like when you wore the mask he bought you to one of his games, and you wore one of his alternate uniforms, but the kicker was how you stayed away from everyone and didn’t let a single person near you (or his shirt)
or when you helped him clean his dorm when he was doing his weekly deep clean
or when the two of you washed the dishes while trying to do one of those “try not to sing” challenges
(is it normal to get a boner when your girlfriend helps you clean? no?)
but, as much as he tries to remain emotionless on the subject, there are multiple exceptions to the “it’s not what she wears” whole thing
Like that violet puffy skirt, you wore to a study fate, the one with the white sweater? That one, the same one that he could see your panties, from anywhere he sat. and Every time you got up you would have to smooth it down to make the creases go down, but it was only ever really giving him a good idea about the shape of your ass.
(if he sees you in that skirt again he’s just going to fuck you in it)
The lesser-known horny-inducer, since he made you take it off within the first five minutes, was a dress! What kind of dress? A neon yellow see-through mesh dress. The bottom wasn’t what got him though, it was the fact that your white bra was clearly seen under the mesh top. Or maybe it was the way the skirt made your waist look super small, and how your hips looked so round and squeezable.
Yeah, no one else could experience you in that.
Not to sound like this, but sakusa is still averse to touch
BUT BUT BUT
That goes out the window when he wants to dance the devil's tango with you.
Mr. His way or no way shows up,  he does it every so slightly different
If it’s just the two of you, he’ll put a hand on your shoulder and he’ll push you to your knees. And he’ll pet your head and tell you what’s about to happen and advise you to listen like a good girl.
But in the instance you are in the presence of others, he’ll stand behind you and bring you super close to him, ass to dick. (maybe he’ll grind into you a bit, just to convince you to follow him) and he’ll throw a few words in about how much of a bitch in heat you are for getting turned on in front of all of these people.
It’s best to just do what he wants before he makes you cum in your underwear.
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Daichi Sawamura
oh my
you guys are the power thigh couple
powerful and defined mixed with soft and pillowy
In Fact, that’s literally how the two of you met, thanks to Tanaka and Nishinoya of course.
(let’s just pretend karasuno has a cheer squad, and you just happened to be the captain of said team)
So basically you were doing a favor for the student council, and you were supposed to ask how many third years, managers included, were on each team and each club in the school
Easy! Turns out not so much. You were still in your cheer practice uniform, which was the shortest spandex ever made, and a Karasuno school t-shirt that was ever so slightly too tight.
Anyway, you make it to the gym and open the door, and the little one, Yachi, saw you and literally screamed. (she was right by the door), and that alerted everyone else in the gym, which led to the bald boy and his short companion pushing you further into the gym.
But in the better sense, it did gain the attention of the captain! Just the exact moment he was in front of you someone pushed; your back and within a second, in some miracle like way, you both ended up on the floor and he ended up planked on top of you with a leg between your spread thighs.
Almost kissing nonetheless.
Then, like the gentleman he was, he got off and asked you if you alright and kneeled down and let you use his shoulder to try and stand back up.
You did get up, for a split second, Daichi still kneeling letting you use him as a step stool when a certain red-head was flung right into you and you went toppling forward.
Onto Daichi.
Onto Daichi's face.
Your thighs around his head.
His hands-on your ass.
Hand in his hair.  
He could sit there forever, you were frozen, everyone else was frozen.
You eventually climbed off and asked how many third years there were. But he just sat there, his hands hadn’t moved either, luckily Suga answered and you were on your way.
And Daichi still didn’t move, after that incident, you had begun to see him everywhere, and eventually, he just cut the shit and asked you out.
Daddy Daichi likes seeing you in literally anything from sweatshirts to lingerie.
His favorite was the brown buttoned pencil skirt and the white blouse, that you wore to a date. You were kind of overdressed for the ramen shop and after a walk, but he didn't even care. He was so thrown off by how turned on he was he couldn't speak in full sentences.
An example:
“Yeah, the food here is- boob, I-I mean great, not boob, great, yes, great.”
The second.
.
.
.
.
.
Was a bathrobe.
Can you see where I'm going with that? Simply you look hot.
His favorite part of the night was ripping it off of you.
And like the first time you met, he had his head in your thighs <3
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Atsumu Miya
You met poor atsumu at a party.
He tried to shoot his shot, y’know he sees a cute lady he’s just gotta try and show you what you could be getting
he had it all planned, he was going to walk up behind you and run his hands over your delicious curves and ask you if you were in need of any help
he doesn’t take into account that a having a random guy just start groping you and pressing himself behind a girl was panic-inducing
so when he dropped your waist, you freaked out and may or may not have punched him in the dick
while he was in a. world of pain you age to figure out what the hell had just happened to you
then you noticed him on the floor, and when he noticed you looking at him he put this forced cocky smirk on and gave you a “how you doing”
You took pity on the poor creature and helped him up and got him some ice, then conversed with him for the majority of the rest of the night.
And he just hasn't left you alone since
(and, you learned this far later, that he went so far to tell Sakusa and Kageyama all about you and how amazing you are, and has even sent them- more than one- picture
But in other news, he’s very horny
So really all that means is he always has his hands on you
Like during practice breaks when you're allowed to come down and talk to him for a bit, give him some things, but it normally just consists of him sitting on the bench and you standing in front of him.
While his hands rest on your hips and his face is shoved into the valley between your breasts, and he just sits and listens to you as you brush a hand through his hair.
Or sometimes, if he had been having a rough time, he’ll just have his hands under your skirt and he’ll feel around for a bit while grumbling about how people cant hit his sets
But for being the possessive bastard he is, he sure likes letting you wear all those outfits
Like the booty shorts and tank top, you wore to bring them food during the summer training camp. That same camp that the two of you disappeared at and he came back looking like he had won the lottery.
Or the cute little red dress you wore to your anniversary date? The one that made him have a hard-on the entire time you were at dinner. He knows the waiter remembers, he also bets the waiter remembers seeing him fucking you in the car when his shift was over.
And that time you wore his jersey to bed and sent him a picture of it. It was such a good picture that he made it his lock screen for everyone to see.
He just likes looking at you tbh.
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Aone Takanobu
you guys didn’t meet in some weird perverted way, it was actually really cute!
Not to sound creepy but he knew that you were in the garden club because you sat right in front of him in class
And since he didn't talk to anyone else in that class he was just content with listening, and so there he was
Standing outside of the garden club door holding his withering basil plant. Lost.
Lucky for him you were walking down the hallway and greeted him, looking all pretty and cute
You did help him realize that he was overwatering the basil and within a few weeks, it was back to life!
From that first time on, he came to the club room with you twice a week and walked home with you, just listening to all the random plant facts that you had harbored in your mind.
Eventually, with the help of the team, he asked you out, and you hugged him and said yes, and that was the beginning of the “oh god, y/n is way softer than I thought”
So he really just tries to be near you or be touching you at all times  
(i am also a firm believer that he likes to slow dance to classical music in your living room)
Like during lunch periods when you sit next to him and the second you finish eating hell push you to lean against him
And he’ll rub small circles on your hips and give you small innocent gropes
Or how he hugs your waist when you're doing literally anything, and he puts his head on top of your head while swaying
I can also tell you that Aone is a good singer
So he hums to you (I'm uwuing over my own headcanon lol)
He also really likes just running his hands along your body, so he likes when you wear the one-piece dresses so he has smooth sailing down your body
As a man of little words, he clearly has a more physical approach to getting you on the horny train
What I am trying to get at is that more often than not he literally just picks you up and carries you away.
Of course, that leaves you to come back to whatever you were doing.
That is after the cuddles and after sex ‘conversations’ about the dumbest things
Basically, he likes to hear you talk and he really likes being near.
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Osamu Miya
He knew who you were
With a brother like atsumu, who never shuts up about you, it's hard not to
(Osamu is pretty sure atsumu had a picture of you next to his pillow. ew)
Anyway, the two of you just happened to share the same lunch block, and it also just happens to be the only period block that he was alone
No teammates and no especially close that he could hang out with
That meant he could either study or eat
Had he chose to eat, only to be met with the fact that atsumu had drained both of their lunch accounts for his flavor of the week
Poor baby stood there for a while just processing what was the worst news of his life
When you, a true angel among the evil, said that you would graciously pay for his food so that he didn't outlook so sad anymore
If he wasn’t holding an armful of onigiri he would have fallen on his knees and begged to whatever god was out there to let him keep you
But he settled for thanking you and spending the entire period with you, he even offered to share (for the first time in his life)
You complimented him on his flavor choice and he decided to keep you
He made sure to share his recipes with you and you tried to do the same
And somehow that evolved into you guys going on dates, much to atsumu’s distaste, and you guys were totally hitting it off
Osamu was your official biggest fan, he loved everything you do
But that means he wants to stay your biggest fan, and he knows that you’re pretty well known for boys thinking not so innocent things about you
Again being brothers with atsumu gave him this little sadistic streak
He lets you wear all of the revealing outfits and the bikinis, all for everyone to see
Everyone to see what belongs to him
Like at suna’s party he let you wear a black mini-skirt and a white off the shoulder long sleeved flowy shirt.
You looked good, and all the guys staring at you proved that point tenfold. Three guys had come up to you and tried to get you to go upstairs with them. And it was almost immediately shut down when they noticed the act you were sitting on your boyfriend.
Speaking of, he almost always has you in his lap.
Aww, cute! Not, he like grinding you down on him, that's also why he likes having you wear skirts, easy access to your ass, also a nice way to ensure that he could get more than a few gropes in when he wants
No, it's definitely the way he made you wear thigh highs to school one day and the shortest skirt you owned (like a school skirt) and walked behind you the entire day.
And he just reached behind you and lifted your skirt for the whole hallway to see, but mostly for him
He waists no time when he wants to fuck, he’ll just walk up to and open your legs while making out with either you or your neck.
And yes he has done that in front of atsumu
Who was warned to stay out of their room for a while.
Not to mention all those times he convince you to go to school with no underwear on just for the fun of it
(I didn't tell you this but those off the shoulder mini dresses drive him wild. On graduation day he pulled into a closet and had his way with you. I mean he did say that if you wore that dress he was going to do it, buuuuuut y’know….. yolo)
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Kyotani Kentaro
We all know he’s a fighter, which means he gets hurt a lot, which in turn makes him a frequent face in the nurse's office
And who happens to be the nurse's niece? You of course!
And right after school, when your aunt takes her break and leaves you to take care of the office alone
Right after school is also when Kyotani always comes in.
(it’s not like he knew that you would be there alone, and that meant that you had to deal with him and heal him up. And it also is not like he started the fight so he could come here and see you. No not that)
Who am I kidding it was like that.
It was totally like that.
Your hands were just so soft when they put the bandages on and you have to bend down to get the wrapping.
He had a crush, that's what iwaizumi said, and after googling what the symptoms of a crush were he was sure
So with the help of the third years, aka Oikawa just having Iwaizumi repeat what he wanted to say, they had a plan
And the next time he was in the office he asked if you wanted to see a movie with him, it was so cute and he looked so shy
It would have been perfect if after five seconds he tried to take it back, you still went on the date with him though
He was happy.
Angry boy likes hugs
And yes he does, no objections
So when he’s upset he’ll make these grabby hands at you and have you come over and stand with him
He shoves his chin on your shoulder and his hands squeezing your waist and you’ll rock back and forth until he calms down.
He’s also very aware of what you wear
Like how your skirt perfectly frames your legs. How the socks you wear make your legs look 10x longer, and make you look like you’re walking like a model.
Or the dark blue leggings you wore with his alternate jersey and you were cheering for him!
But nothing and I mean NOTHING gets him better than when you wear spandex shorts and one of his shirts. He goes feral every time.
This man is the CEO of picking you up and placing you on his lap, straddle style, and just going ham on you
Not to mention that sometimes when he’s really tired he’ll have you just sitting on his lap while he plays with your thighs
(he also likes playing with your waist and stomach, but he doesn't realize that he’s talking out loud so you can hear all of the “so soft”’s he lets out.
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Kuguri
You were one of Mika's close friends so you were always just kind of around
It was a little get together that Daishou threw that really made you two close
It was a weird drinking game of sorts, and it had these teams, and you were out as a pair!
Somehow throughout the game, you guys got side-tracked and just ended up talking to each other the rest of the night
Eventually, you were convinced to go on a double date and the rest was history
He didn't even pay attention to what you wore that much until he heard a few rando kids in the locker room talking about it.
And that’s when he started thinking about just who he was dating
He first realized how round your ass was. Is it normal to look that good in leggings? No one else has ever looked that good to him. With that came his obsession with just touching your butt. He just grabs it or he’ll stop you from walking and palm it. Or he’ll rub circles into it.
(it's cute how intrigued he is by your butt)
Then came his obsession with your thighs. Mostly the way that they spread out when you sit. He didn't even understand why they were just so mesmerizing. They were so squishy too. He likes how they look in his hands-
Lastly was the waist thing. You aren't even sure what it is. He just likes putting his hands on your waist. Like a prom picture. Sometimes he’ll squeeze or run his hands along your sides. But he’s mostly stationary.
He also has this habit of just opening your legs and laying on your stomach.
He is just so into how soft you are.
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zhuhongs · 3 years ago
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Ever since I watched Your Name Engraved Herein two weeks ago, I have wanted to talk about Jiahan as whole but in particular this scene right here that starts around the 40 minute mark. 
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CW’s: discussion of religion, internalized homophobia, violent homophobia, choking, and lack of consent. Generally, the same cws as in the movie. 
Read more bc it’s uh.. 2.7k
all images are described in alt text
As soon as I watched this scene I just knew it had to be really significant and now rewatching YNEH, I realize that this is a major ideological turning point for Jiahan as a character. From this point on he slowly begins to accept that he’s gay and starts to consciously act on his feelings for Birdy. However, I must first add some context and insights on Jiahan’s prior behavior before I dive into this scene as a whole. At the beginning of the movie, we see that while Jiahan feels different from the rest of his roomates, he still sneaks out with them when they go hook up with girls, despite not showing any interest in the girl he’s with. He feels very different from the rest of his friends, but still goes along with them due to peer pressure. Later, he tries to dissuade them from violently hazing the gay student, Xie Zhenhong, (his name is never said in the film but it says so on his uniform shirt, and that what I’ll refer to him as for the rest of the post) but is reluctantly influenced to gang up on the student as well. He closes his eyes while he’s about to strike the bat down on the student, until Birdy rescues the student-- and Jiahan in a way-- from what is about to play out. After this, his friends accuse him of being in the same stall as Birdy (which he was) but he denies it, not wanting to explain why he was there and the ensuing taunting from his friends.
 While its obvious that Jiahan has feelings for Birdy, he isn’t confident enough to pursue them outright. Birdy is the more confident one in both their friendship and in his sexuality, not caring about how anyone perceives him and does what he wants regardless of the consequences. Jiahan is the one worried about societal stigma and goes along with things he doesn’t want to do. However after this encounter with the gay underclassman pictured above, Jiahan become more brave and honest about his feelings towards Birdy. Interestingly enough in the scene directly after this, Birdy begins to conceal his true feelings for Jiahan and pursue a straight relationship with Banban. He doesn’t do this hurt Jiahan, as he does reciprocate Jiahan’s feelings, but to discourage him from coming out and becoming a social pariah for being gay. Birdy himself doesn’t mind being an outcast, but he does not want to see the same thing happen to the one he loves. So instead of letting Jiahan do that, he tries to discourage Jiahan from ever pursuing him by getting a girlfriend and suggest Jiahan does the same. In the same day, both Jiahan and Birdy come to opposite realizations about their feelings for the other, thereby changing their dynamic for the course of the movie. Someone else has picked apart Birdy’s scene in their own post. If you haven’t read that analysis, please go read it, because its really good at explaining Birdy’s character since most of his story isn’t directly revealed to us. We must read inbetween the lines and piece it together, which can be confusing on a first watch.
Anyways, now we can focus on Jiahan. At this point in the movie, Jiahan is trying to understand why he’s upset that Birdy is showing interest in a girl in their band while dealing with his own internalized homophobia and denial over his sexuality. He then turns to the only out gay person he knows -- Xie Zhenhong, who he sees in the cafeteria with new bruises on his face. He looks at Jiahan with a smile. This makes me feel like Zhenhong probably picked up on Jiahan and Birdy’s feelings for each other since last year, when he saw them exit the same stall in the bathroom. Having been the Distinguished Out Person in a group before, I can definitely relate to the way Zhenhong reacts to Jiahan. It the typical “oh honey, you don’t realize it yet, but I know you’re gay” reaction. 
 Jiahan waits outside the cafeteria and calls out to out him from behind. At first Zhenhong ignores him as we can see that he smirks a bit when he first speaks. He definitely heard Jiahan but doesn’t answer him until he repeats himself a few times. Zhenhong purposely stops when the two are in front of the stained glass window, away from others. Jiahan’s word choice towards Zhenhong is also interesting as he addresses him as “學弟” which is a term for an underclassman. To my understanding, it’s not overly formal nor is it overly familiar, however it is the nicest way that anyone has addressed him all movie. Jiahan than asks him who gave him those bruises, showing concern for his well being. He then reveals why he stopped Zhenhong saying “Actually I want to ask you, when did you start liking boys?” This really seals the deal to Zhenhong that Jiahan is talking to him to try and sort out his own feelings towards Birdy. While his suggestion that Zhenhong perhaps “see a doctor” or “consider getting a girlfriend” read as a microaggression to most viewers, Zhenhong himself can tell that Jiahan is asking him this in good faith. And perhaps, this might be the most understanding anyone has been towards him since Birdy helped him out prior. Before he responds, he looks up at Jiahan and fixes his bangs. This all stumps Jiahan whose eyes dart around, speechless. Zhenhong then circles his arms around Jiahan’s neck, a very intimate gesture, and studies him for a moment. We cannot see Jiahan’s face at this moment but he does shuffle slightly, his body language nervous and confused, but not upset. After looking at him, Zhenhong then goes in closer, assumedly to kiss him. At this point, Jiahan physically stops him and grabs him by the throat. However, Jiahan’s face doesn’t seem to be angry, if anything, his face looks more scared and confused-- akin to a ‘what are you doing?’ moment.
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Initially Zhenhong’s choice to kiss Jiahan read very...strangely to me. Why would the screenwriter, as a gay man that grew up in the 80’s, choose to include this? What was there to gain? To me it seemed like it was reinforcing the stereotype of gay men being overly flirtacious and viewed as predators. Why show a nonconsentual attempted kiss at all? I thought about it a lot, both for this scene and the following one with the old man and later between Jiahan and Birdy because it seemed?? Odd to me?? Isn’t that a disservice in representing gay men? I don’t fully have the right answer but I feel like by writing the scene like this, it goes to demonstrate how Jiahan still isn’t fully comfortable with being gay. And also that lgbt people, especially teens, aren’t always going to be good rep. Liu Kuang-hui wasn’t writing the movie to be an perfect, morally uplifting, santized gay narritive. He was writing something that spoke to his real life experience as a gay man in 1980’s Taiwan. In real life, people do questionable things and good narratives are supposed to make you question characters and their actions and judge for yourself whether what they did was right or wrong. The narrative isn’t looking to condemn Xie Zhenhong for doing this. Xie Zhenhong is ultimately a victim of violent homophobia, that will not hide himself or his sexuality despite the violence he faces. He isn’t perfect, nor is Jiahan, nor is Birdy, nor is anyone in the film. 
Although now having rewatched this scene upwards of eight times in writing this, it feels like Zhenhong didn’t assume this action to be without consent. Of course, no words were explicitly exchanged about kissing, and I’m not trying to make the case that it’s okay to kiss someone without their consent, that’s harassment. However, Zhenhong did gave Jiahan time to express his discomfort before proceeding. Zhenhong first got close to Jiahan by brushing his bangs, Jiahan did not say anything or look visibly uncomfortable. He then put his arms around Jiahan’s neck, and stared at him for a good ten seconds. At this point, Jiahan had time to say he was uncomfortable. As we know it, consent does indeed entail a verbal, understood yes from both parties. However given the context, I can understand why Zhenhong thought that Jiahan was consenting at that moment. However the moment Jiahan revoked his consent Zhenhong stopped trying to kiss him. Zhenhong shouldn’t have gone in without getting verbal consent, and Jiahan could’ve done something other than grabbing him by the throat. They were both in the wrong. Violence shouldn’t have been the reaction, nor should’ve kissing someone without their verbal consent. The lines were very blurred, and proper communication could’ve resulted in a better interaction but like I mentioned above, I don’t think the writers wanted to portray the scene in that way. The intent was not to say that Zhenhong’s actions were romantic or something to emulate. It was very purposeful in showing to interplay of homophobia, gay desire, and religion.
The scene is set up like a religious confession. Zhenhong purposefully leads Jiahan to the stained glass, a metaphor for his religious guilt. He doesn’t look Zhenhong in the eyes, his voice is hushed, and body language nervous, and troubled-- it communicates to Zhenhong that he thinks he may be gay and wants either reassurance that he isn’t or acceptance that is. Regardless, it’s a very vulnerable and intimate moment. Jiahan is facing him like ‘hey, I know my friends were bullying you and I wanted to save you but was too much of a coward and almost took part in harming you. I’m sorry. I know you saw that me and Birdy were in the same stall together, and that you saw me just telling him not to talk to the girls, and neither of those are heterosexual things to do. Please, help me.’ He’s asking Zhenhong to pass judgement on him, is he gay or not? By virtue of even asking that question, they both know the answer -- Jiahan is in love with Birdy, but whether Jiahan can accept that or not is up to him. In a way, Zhenhong is testing Jiahan to see how honest he can be with himself. By approaching him like that, he’s testing to see whether Jiahan can accept being intimate with a man or not. It’s not a good or ethical test, but it sure is effective. Because in his head, Jiahan is coming to realize that he doesn’t mind a man being close to him in a romantic way. Although, he isn’t fully there yet. He still grabs Zhenhong. But as Zhenhong stares at him despite the hand around his throat, Jiahan really has to think about his actions. Is that what he really wants to do, or is that what he’s been taught to do? It illustrates his internalized homophobia perfectly. Jiahan is literally staring gay desire in the face, rejecting it, while in front of his religion. Zhenhong finally answers Jiahan that “he has always loved boys since he was little, it’s never changed.” Upon hearing that his grip loosens and he pulls away. And the fact that we can hear him well means that Jiahan was never choking him, his hand was there, but not gripping. Zhenhong pulls him in closer and tilts his head, and says “and it never will.”  Zhenhong’s words are very deliberate. It’s as if he anticipated this might happen and knew exactly what to say. He wants to carve it in Jiahan’s brain that no one chooses to be gay. They always are and no amount of denial, like the kind Jiahan is showing, will change that. He then finally lets go of Jiahan, who is speechless, he thanks him, and leaves. Jiahan, however, stays there for a second, processing everything that has happened, and breathes heavily before the scene cuts to later that day.
Finally, I would like to examine exactly what Zhenhong’s “thanks” even means. Why would Zhenhong be thanking Jiahan? On the surface, it lookslike Jiahan waited for this guy to finish eating, then asked him invasive questions about his sexuality and suggest he should get help and then almost choked him. This should count as a microagression at best and an attempted hate crime at worst. But, as I just dived into, this wasn’t a bad faith jeer by Jiahan in order to bully Zhenhong, this was a genuine cry for help made by a deeply confused teenager. I feel like the “thanks.” at the end of the scene was perhaps just as puzzling to me as when I thought about why the staff would have that scene play out like that in the first place? I think his thanks is conveying many things. Firstly, thanking him for not actually hurting him and allowing him to have a semi normal interaction with a student of the same gender. As far as we know, many,  MANY different students have tried to hurt him in the new semester alone. Hell, we literally do not even know his name as everyone refers to him by the q slur or some other derogatory term, which speaks a lot to how he is treated. He also may be saying thanks for actually asking him about his sexuality. While Jiahan still followed it up with a suggestion he see a doctor, he still genuinely wanted to know why rather fully assume he has something wrong with him. Also, I feel like he might be thanking Jiahan for being brave enough to actually confront his sexualtiy and ask Zhenhong for help in the first place. Zhenhong really seems to be alone as the only gay student at the school but now knowing that Jiahan is realizing thathe’s gay as well, might make him be hopeful that things may slowly begin to change. Sadly, this interaction is the last time we see Xie Zhenhong all film which sucks because I really liked him. And I feel like it would’ve been really nice to see him after the time skip or at least have Jiahan mention him because this moment was one of the things that really made Jiahan start to accept his sexuality. A cut scene with Father Oliver also contributed, but I really wish Xie Zhenhong got more narrative than being the only out student that was then violently bullied. But, I acknowledge that MANY scenes were cut from the film for length so I can’t complain to much.
Oh god, that was a lot to say about a scene that was literally a minute and thirty seconds long. In conclusion!! I just had a lot of things to say about this scene and the scenes surrounding it. I think Jiahan is just a very painfully relatable character for many LGBT viewers and he was incredibly relatable for me which is why I felt the need to spend my day off writing this as opposed to doing homework. This scene is incredibly rich on many levels and I really appreciate YNEH as a whole for not spoonfeeding the viewer information and letting us interpret and question the scenes on our own and come to our own conclusions about the characters and yea. There’s so much going on and a lot of nuance and idk how to properly convey a lot of my thoughts but I tried really hard bc i really do love this movie. I really was puzzled by this scene at first, but now having examined it, it is my favorite scene in the movie. If this scene was changed in any way to make it more palatable, it would’ve been nearly as impactful which was a hard decision to come to, but I stand by it. I don’t know if I feel the same about other scenes but I will be reviewing YNEH as a whole in a different post. I have much more to say but my thoughts on this scene were far too long to not make it a separate post of its own. In essence, YNEH is about growing up and accepting yourself in all ways. Not all of those things are pleasant but if you cannot accept those things about yourself, you’re doomed to be miserable until you can live life unburdened by your own and societies limitations. Goodnight, my fingers hurt.
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jinkicake · 4 years ago
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Mouthful
You suck them off while they’re on the phone. 
Kozume Kenma x Reader
Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
Miya Osamu x Reader
Here you go Anon, I hope you like it!!! I am pushing the Oikawa, Kuroo, Bokuto bffs agenda because we were robbed of that interaction. I just know they would all be good friends like please,,,, imagine these mfs in college together as roommates.... It would be so perfect and they all have the brooding quiet type s/o heheh.... Also, I saw spoilers for bnha and um..... ummm.... UMMMMMM
SEMI-SMUTTY // NSFW
WC- 1,830
~~~
Kozume Kenma 
Kenma has the best poker face, nothing is going to give away the fact that he is getting head
Except for when a tiny, tiny, appreciative sigh leaves his lips…..
Then the other person on the line, most definitely Kuroo will be like ‘Yo, what are you doing~’ Yes, Kuroo can tell when Kenma is getting head and will probably praise him for it 
I think if you first try your advances Kenma would simply stare at you with disgust, making no effort to hide that same level of repulsiveness in his voice 
He’d go along with it though because he is not going to try that hard to stop you, ‘why waste that energy’ 
His nimble fingers would card through your hair and he would instantly become relaxed like his shoulders would go limp and he’d flutter his eyes shut
Kenma would still be able to keep up with the conversation though because he doesn’t really add that much input anyway
However even though most people wouldn’t find any difference in his change of attitude….. Kuroo would notice, how can’t he? He would notice the subtle changes in his pudding hair best friend and would be like ‘are you getting head right now’
To which Kenma would go bright red and tense up really quick and try to hide it but ultimately give up and just sigh in defeat ‘yeah’ 
Kenma doesn’t like talking on the phone,,, you take it upon yourself to help him relax~
Kenma pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, trying hard not to let the hiss escape his lips. He doesn’t glance down at you, he knows that if he did, he would come undone. The feeling of your warm mouth sucking him in so nicely, your cheeks hollowing around his legnth, your tongue running underneath his cock, it makes his knees utterly weak.
“Yeah, I met that dude Oikawa, I don’t know why everyone hates him. He seems like a cool guy to me,” Kuroo aimlessly rambles, going on about how he met the well-known setter. “he’s going to hang out with Bokuto and I next weekend. You wanna come?”
Kenma sighs and it’s not because of your tongue. He silently thinks long and hard before speaking up again.
“No.” 
You end up gagging on his length, blame on the fact that you tried laughing while sucking him off. 
“Kenma, you’d really like him.” Kuroo persuades and Kenma mentally pictures the pros and cons. 
“I’d rather play video games,” Kenma’s fingers rake through your hair and he makes the mistake of looking down at you. A quiet moan leaves his lips, the perfect little ‘ah’ that he doesn’t even hear himself. The line goes quiet for awhile and Kenma assumes that it is because Kuroo is trying to come up with another reason why Kenma should join them.
“Is (Y/N) giving you head right now?” Kuroo asks boldly and you gag once again, pinching your eyes shut at the humiliation. Defeat washes over Kenma. 
“Yeah.” He sighs and Kuroo hums slightly.
“Finally, good for you, take it like a champ.” Kuroo praises and Kenma’s nose scrunches in disgust. “Anyway, I’ll come by at like nine on Saturday okay? Oikawa is only in Tokyo for the weekend.” 
Kenma never can win, can he?
“Fine.”
Kuroo Tetsurou 
Kuroo is suuuuch a showoff, please he will do it just to make you flustered
He will purposely roll his shoulders back, sit on the couch all arrogantly, stare straight into your eyes as he bites his lip, use his hand to push his hair back while purposely flexing his bicep, he does it all for your enjoyment as well
He is eye-candy and that bitch knows it,,,,, anything for his lovely s/o
Kuroo wouldn’t make any noises though because he doesn’t really want to get caught in the middle of a blowjob. You would refuse to finish him off and then he wouldn’t have your sweet mouth anymore….. 
But,,,, if someone did catch him in the middle of a blowjob, Kuroo would not be embarrassed, please his ego would flourish I feel like he is into that kind of thing
Side bar…. Sometimes I go off with Kuroo and I think,,,, is this too occ? because I remember he is just a big science dork but then I remember no he is a scorpio and then it all makes sense, Kuroo is the best of both worlds 
Kuroo wouldn’t be able to pay attention at all to the conversation at hand like Bokuto could be asking him questions about something and Kuroo is just like ‘yup, it was really hot today’ like he can’t keep up….. not when you’re so generously sucking him off
Then Kenma is like … and Akaashi is like … because they can put two and two together unlike their oblivious friend
It gets to the point where Kenma will start doing something else, like playing a video game while Bokuto tries to keep a conversation going between four people all by himself
Please, Kuroo is the ultimate tease with you but….. if he is going to get pleased then he will also try to please you as well
“And then the vice-principal got mad at me,” Bokuto groans loudly, his eye twitching as he thinks back to the incident that happened earlier in the week. “it’s not my fault he wears a wig!” 
“Bokuto that was not the reason you got in trouble,” Akaashi sighs disappointedly, Kuroo doesn’t pay attention to them.
“What happened?” Kenma comments, slightly curious in the conversation at hand. Kuroo gently cups your cheek, running his thumb against your skin lovingly as he stares down you. At the sight of your teasing eyes and sinful tongue sucking on the tip of his hard cock, his thighs twitch beside you.
“… then Bokuto spiked the principals head to ‘kill the bug’ and also set his wig back to normal.” Akaashi finishes, heaving another disappointed sigh.
“See, I was helping him. He should be thanking me not scolding us for an hour.” Bokuto complains and Akaashi tries not to slap his captain through the phone. 
“This is what I deal with on a daily basis, I even have a notebook to predict his next moves.” Akaashi tells Kenma, his head still numb from the scolding he had to endure earlier in the week. 
“I don’t think anyone on our team is that bad, maybe Lev,” Kenma thinks and Kuroo licks his lips, his eyes darkening when he zones in on your mouth. 
“Kuroo, is he even listening?” Bokuto asks curiously and Kenma narrows his eyes when he pieces together why his friend is so quiet. He knows Kuroo is either getting head or giving it. 
“Ignore him, Bokuto, it’s good we don’t have to hear his voice.” Kenma tosses out and Kuroo gasps. Of course, out of everything, that is what he heard. 
“Kenma!” Kuroo snaps and the setter simply hides further under his blanket on the other end of the line. “I’m just busy,” 
“With what?” Bokuto eagerly pesters and Kuroo glances down at you once more. 
“Stuff.”
Miya Osamu 
Osamu also has a good poker face, nothing can give away that he is getting head…. There will be no slip-up from him
Unless Atsumu says something and Osamu’s competitive side jumps out for a hot second then…… then there is a slip up
‘Fuck you ‘Tsumu, I’m getting head that’s why I don’t care about your bullshit story’ cue a dramatic gasp from Atsumu and Ojiro on the other end of the line like … silence 
Yeah, Osamu doesn’t do well when provoked…. Good luck with that one 
Osamu wouldn’t say no to getting head like if you got onto your knees and pushed your hair back,,,, Osamu would be like ‘shit, here we go again’ he might be hesitant at first but then he will cockily accept it
He’ll carry on the conversation with disinterest, not really paying attention because all he can do is stare at you
Sometimes he will fuck your face,,,, literally….. he has no shame but when you gag too loudly then he lets you have control again 
Osamu doesn’t really want to get caught…. He wants to shield you away from that
His little comments that he slides in conversations here and there will probably be noticed once he stops saying them because he is preoccupied with other things. The team can’t figure out what has him so distracted though
Osamu is usually pretty gentle,,,, until he gets angry so if you suck him off while he is having a conversation with Atsumu…. Good luck
“I have to help my grandmother around the house today, so there will be no practice. Take the day to rest.” Kita’s voice sounds throughout the multiple phones and Osamu lets out a soft hum. His eyes are staring directly at you while he holds your hair back out of your face, despite his neutral face you can still see the fondness swimming in his eyes.
“Say hi to gran for me!” Atsumu says and Ojiro glances at him, the two on the same device as they walk through the city. 
“No.” Kita responds and Atsumu sighs dejectedly before going off on Ojiro when he starts to laugh at him. 
Osamu continues to pay no attention to him, instead, he thrusts into your mouth while holding your head still so he can control the pace. It feels so good, he could fucking cum-
“Yo, ‘Samu what are you even doing? Reading your old man magazines?” Atsumu snickers when he notices how quiet his brother has been. Osamu closes his eyes momentarily, trying to calm himself down from snapping. He gently pulls himself off of you, allowing you to take over the pace. 
“Eat shit ‘Tsumu.” Osamu snaps back, now watching the way your hands grip his strong thighs as you bob your head along his length. 
“My grandmother-“ Kita starts but is quickly cut off. 
“Ah, the shit that you cook ‘Samu?” Atsumu retorts, sticking his tongue out despite Osamu not being able to see it.
“Stop it, my grandmother-“ Kita tries again but Osamu interrupts him. The grip in your hair tightens as his anger grows.
“You really like that shit then since all you do is fucking eat it!” Osamu curses and Atsumu decides to tease him even more. 
“I’ve never seen (Y/N) eat your cooking, that’s how you know it’s shit.” A gasp is heard right after Atsumu’s comment, Suna’s mouth falls open in shock.
“She eats all my cooking, I feed her well but right now she’s too busy sucking my dick.” Osamu spits and you immediately pull off of him, your mouth a perfect ‘o’ as you stare up at him in disbelief. 
“You, right now?” Atsumu asks slowly and the line goes quiet.
“My grandmother is listening, I have the phone on speaker.” Kita finally finishes and the Miya twins start to count their final days.
~
Taglist.
@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah  @littleshopoflove @osamuonigiri @pearzuko @darksxder @macaronnv @nerdygremlin @buzzybeebee​
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fantasyforbeginners · 2 years ago
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hello! this is probably a question you've already answered before, but do you have any tips on how to introduce a fantasy world with new races, magic systems, and countries etc, without just infodumping in the first chapter?
in a story i'm working on, there are two races of characters who are very different from humans and don't appear in like. folklore or anything (ie they're completely made up), but since i don't want to infodump i end up sort of talking about them like the reader should already know who/what they are, and that's really confusing i think. i'm just not sure where i should put my information, there never really seems like a right time but i know it needs to be somewhere
any help is really appreciated, sorry if you've already received a question like this !
So this is something where character voice and distinctiveness is going to be your way out. A lot of this depends on your POV character(s) and how much they would notice about any given person and/or creature. If your POV character for some of these introduction scenes does not belong to either race, they can be an effective conduit for info dumping in a way that doesn't feel egregarious.
I'm assuming you're working on secondary (i.e. set in an entirely different fantasy world and everyone is from that same world) > portal or hidden world fantasy, so this advice is catered slightly accordingly.
However, the concept of an audience conduit is true for all of these. In portal or hidden world fantasy, this is the Ordinary / Secretly Special Kid who Discovers a Thing or Falls through some Portal and needs to get everything explained to them as a result of having literally no or very little context.
In secondary fantasy, this is often a character who's more naive or a little less worldly (think the Hobbits in LOTR) who although they inhabit this world, haven't seen too much of it first hand. ATLA also handles this very cleverly, as Aang educates Katara and Sokka about all the places they haven't been, and they can educate him about how the world has generally changed in the 100 years since he's been gone / about the war.
What I mean in terms of character voice is something like this:
In another life, the meadow would have awoken under her touch, with unfurled petals, blooming blades of grass, and warmth. But Ally just prodded the lifeless husk of grass with the frosted rim of her boot. She’d hoped the walk and crisp wintry air would clear her head after a restless night, but to no avail. She’d been off—well, more off-kilter all week. Why was it that the more important it was to sleep well, the harder it was to do?
(Fun fact, this is the first paragraph of my WIP).
Immediately we know there's a subverted expectation, a sense of loss of power (and what those powers may be), that my protagonist is worried about something, and that we're in a world that generally experiences a snowy form of winter. A lot of this is conveyed through subtext, but there's also plenty of tell. The next 10 pages are about establishing her Ordinary (extraordinary) life, her outsider perspective, and establishing the immediate and some of the possible future stakes these hold for her.
Again, what do we have to know in order to understand an immediate, personal issue, even for something vast and sprawling, in order to get us invested? Could be a relationship, could be a character, could be something to prove - but always best to start small and specific > broad and wordy.
As my first piece of formal advice, if I had to take a guess, is that likely you're trying to establish too many stakes too in-depth at once. It may be worth stepping back and thinking "What is the most important information that has to be there, and everything else is set dressing?" For myself, this meant establishing my protagonist's broken chosen one cycle and her personal stakes. The other sets of powers, the broader world (including whole countries), the long and complicated history of the lore... all didn't matter. Or at least, doesn't matter yet.
Ask yourself: What are the personal stakes for your POV character in the first 10 pages, and figure out what worldbuilding has to be included from there? Are they a merchant, a scientist, a knight? An outsider? And then you go from there, for every ten pages onwards. Figuring out what to add later for a bit more cohesiveness or foreshadowing can be a second draft thing, and it is okay for your reader to marinate in implications or not entirely answered questions for a little, too.
Additionally, if you're worried about tossing too many names and titles, you can generalize. We don't have to know the names of every country; if say, there's an issue with one in the north or south, you can say "The northern provinces are starting to complain," and that gives us details without giving us cumbersome details (at least this early on).
If your POV character, or one of them, belongs to one of the new species, there will still be variations (or not, which is very notable) between themselves and others within their race that they can notice. For example, is the POV's characters pointed ears smaller than others'? Are the horns or assortment of limbs different or uniform across the species in contrast to other features, like hair or skin or eyes, that might differ further?
For example, I have three different types of elves in my world, but they all look slightly different from each other and have different attitudes regarding their ears / whether ears can be pierced, should be covered by hair, etc. Little things like that that a character from any of the three types would draw attention to.
Of course, that can only really be done once details concerning that distinctiveness. And again, it's okay to give more general descriptions at first and go into more detail later. Quality > quantity. Some parts of exposition really are just info-dumping (aka a paragraph on how a certain race or even building or city looks) and there's no really getting around that, but the most important thing is spacing it out. Your reader can't take it all in at once and you don't have to write it all at once.
I have offered advice on how to create a sense of distinctiveness in worldbuilding in a pretty simple way (as you seem to be working in threes already, which may work out).
I hope this helps, happy writing, and feel free to pop into my DMs or inbox with more specifics if you'd like to chat more! <3
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tryingmyves · 3 years ago
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Could you make angst headcanons about how would Shoto react if his fem s/o covered his burn mark with foundation and seeing himself without it after so long
hi anon!! thank you so much for your request!! it ended up as a short fic instead of hcs, i hope you like it! i’m not super great at angst - i prefer happy endings ✨
tagging @your-1up-girl because i know how much she loves Shoto 💛
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Most days, Shoto is unbothered by the burn scar marring the left side of his face. He’s generally considered to be very handsome. Though even if he wasn’t, Shoto is not very concerned with appearances. He’s not the type to spend much time looking in the mirror, and since he’s not on social media, he doesn’t take a lot of photos. At times, he forgets it’s there, only remembering when his fingers graze across its surface as he pushes back his hair. Most days, the scar is just scar. An inconsequential blemish that receives the same amount of thought that it takes to breath. Most days.
But today it’s so much more. It’s a source of shame and confusion and grief. Although his mother was the one who gave him the scar, truly it’s the brand of his father. His cruelty and relentlessness isolated Shoto from everyone as a child, eventually taking his own mother from him. And here he is, left alone with a hideous scar that will forever remind him of the man he hates most. Somewhere between enraged and devastated, Shoto stands in front of the bathroom mirror with tears pricking at his eyes.
That’s where you find him as you enter his dorm. Standing stiff and transfixed on his disfigured face, he doesn’t even hear you open the door.
“S-Sho? What’s wrong?”
Your voice pulls him from the staring contest with his reflection and he finally turns away from the wretched thing to look at you.
“I don’t even remember what I look like without my scar… It doesn’t matter how much I distance myself from him. Everything comes back to my father.”
He says it flatly, in sharp contrast to the raw emotions swirling in his chest. But the lack of intonation cannot hide the hurt your boyfriend is feeling. You want to pull him into your arms and tell him he is not defined by the pieces that form him, that he is more than the sum of his parts. But Shoto still flinches away from the touch of others, not expecting it to be kind. So you settle on solving the smallest problem he’s presented.
“Would you like to? See yourself without your scar.”
His face softens slightly at your question, “How?”
You extend your hand towards him and after a moment, he takes it. You lead him from his dorm, across the hall and into your own.
“Sit down at my desk, okay? I’ll be right there,” you release his hand and head into your bathroom, grabbing your makeup bag and wetting a beauty blender. When you re-emerge you find Shoto sat at your desk, as instructed, brows now knitted in confusion instead of anger. You dump out the contents of your makeup bag out in front of him.
“I can cover it up if you want,” you say, gesturing to your makeup, “so you can see what you would look like without it.”
His face has softened now, in appreciation of your efforts. He just nods his head at you. You start by pinning back his hair, then set to work. Shoto remains silent during the process, consciously controlling his breathing with your hand so close to his face. He looks up at you as you work, until you ask him to close his eyes. After about five minutes, three different products, and excessive blending you have completely covered Shoto’s scar.
You step back to admire your work and find that while he does look handsome without the scar, he just doesn’t look like Shoto.
“Okay, you can open your eyes.”
When he does, Shoto sees you standing before him with a mirror in hand. You’ve extended it to him face down, allowing him to reveal his reflection when he’s ready.
He reaches out to grab the mirror and looks up to you, “Well, what do you think?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think, Sho. This is about you.”
He gives you a small smile before exhaling deeply. Shoto’s eyes close as he flips over the mirror in his hands. When they open again they are met with their own reflection. But now his left eye is not surrounded by a patch of angry red flesh. His face is smooth and uniform and undamaged. The consequences of his father’s actions no longer seared into his skin. He had expected to find relief or peace, but the change in his appearance only provides a sense of unfamiliarity. It feels strange, the way it does to get back in your car after someone else has driven it. Although it’s interesting to see himself without it, Shoto finds his scar truly is just a scar. And while it may remind him of his father and the things he took from him, it’s nothing more. He will not allow it to continue to take things from him, he won’t allow it to take you from him.
He stands, rising to meet your eyes. He pulls you into him, “Thank you, Y/N,” he kisses your forehead. “I guess it’s not what I expected. I thought I’d feel different without it… better.”
“Well how do you feel?” you ask.
“The same as before, really. It really is just a scar. But I also feel like I have a wonderful girlfriend… who will hopefully help me wash all this off?”
You chuckle, freeing yourself from the hug and pulling Shoto into your bathroom, “Come on, Sho.”
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kthynes · 3 years ago
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meet cute
pairing: chris evans x fem!reader
request: What about Chris meeting a cute girl at target. It's 10 pm and the reader is with a good friend buying some food. The reader is not from the USA she is from Germany and visit her friend in the USA. Chris and the Reader catch the Same thing and he can't keep his eyes of her even when she is younger than him (22years) - anon
warning: none, just marshmallow fluff
a/n: I honestly think there's so much sweetness and anticipation in first chance meetings. If I were to ever bump into Chris irl then this is how I would want it to pan out. Thanks for the request, anon! Stay lovin' folksss.
ALSO that look, that mf look. I'd die.
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-:-
America is nothing like Germany or any other country you've visited in the past. Aside from economic differences and views in politics, you find that everyone here is generally accepting, a bit aggressive, but kind enough to overshare their thoughts. There is a jovial atmosphere that you find yourself attesting to and then there's also the glaring culture shock that assaults you left right and center. It has definitely been a happy adjustment.
"Becky Jane price check to cash five! Becky Jane price check to cash five." A woman hollers over the intercom as you and your good friend, Mia giggle down the aisles. You are in America visiting her for the first time after a long time. She's well settled, attending UMass, living her best life and you couldn't be any happier for her.
"So what should we make for dinner?" She turns to ask you.
"Anything is fine with me, I mean it's getting kind of late now and I'd be okay with cereal." You point to a box of Cocopuffs and your friend shakes her head.
"That's not the first meal you're having in America Y/N." She chides you before coming up with one of her better ideas. "C'mon let's go over to the produce section, we can grab some ingredients for my world famous spinach and feta lasagna!"
You laugh but a part of you is tempted to stay, still enticed by the large array of sugary breakfast cereals. "Actually you go on ahead I wanna look around here for a bit."
Your friend rolls her eyes. "Fine if you're really hellbent then we can have cereal for dessert. How does that sound?"
"Perfect." You smile at her as she shakes her head and trolleys down the narrow aisle way.
There are so many options and while standing in the middle of the aisle you can't help but take in the rows of corrugated and colorful boxes, all brandishing a character or mascot of some sort. You finally settle on one box, reach over to grab it but then come up short when another hand does the same. You gasp and unsubtly retreat in unison, there's that assurgency that parallels your feelings of embarrassment and awkwardness.
"Oh I'm sorry!" You say before getting a better look at the man standing right next to you.
"No that's alright." He chuckles as your eyes shamelessly widen. It's him. The all American ass man himself, Chris Evans. He seems unreal. A simulation almost as he's idling around in a fitted red plaid flannel, dark blue jeans and a NASA cap that has seen better days.
"You can have it."
"Er, um, are you sure?" You ask and he nods, playfully bouncing his brows at you with an immobilizing grin.
"Yeah I can settle for something else." He eyes the shelf and then picks out a box of Special K, fibrous and healthy.
"Oh no don't, here take it." You joust him with the box and his head drops, laughing softly.
"It's fine. I'm better off with this stuff anyways." He says while sticking around, edging for some more conversation as his eyes inconspicuously drinks you up. You bob your head up and down and purse your lips, flustered to even properly smile at the actor who looks proportionally the same in person, if not even more breathtaking.
"I'm Chris by the way. But I'm sure you already knew that." He states out loud and you nod slightly while closely holding onto the last box of Captain Crunch. "And you must be?"
"Y/N." You say softly and his face turns up with appreciation. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl he thinks to himself.
"Nice to meet you Y/N. I'm guessing you're not from around here." You both walk the back aisles, perusing through at a snails pace.
"How'd you..." You falter.
"You have a slight accent." Chris admits, pointing to his mouth to gesture the lilt he's been carefully in tune with. Your mouth forms into an 'o.' "But it's cute though."
"Oh!" Your voice goes up a register and then back down again when you laugh at his double sidedness. "Yeah I'm not."
"That's cool, where are ya from? If you don't mind me asking, that is." Chris holds to himself, making sure that he wasn't overstepping any boundaries by making casual conversation.
"Germany." You state without any pressing objections.
"Ahh best known for Stollen and beer and not to mention, muesli." Chris comes off a worldly man as he factualizes this statement to you as if you weren't aware of the lifestyle itself. "Which makes you very deserving of that box of Cap'n Crunch."
"Oh yeah?" You quirk a brow in questioning.
"For sure. It's an American delicacy and right, have at it." You giggle upon hearing this and Chris finds it scintillating to hear. Wow.
"Well thank you for being so thoughtful Mr. Evans." You sweetly add.
"Of course, always a gentleman." He says with a large hand pressed against his chest, proving to be an honorable man.
"Have you ever been to Germany?" You set forth with another ask and he shakes his head no.
"No I haven't really travelled around Europe like that but I would love to." Chris pipes for you to mentally take note.
"You should go when you get the chance, it's lovely."
"Like yourself?" Chris flirtatiously rebuts.
"At most."
"So what brings you to America?" He ponders.
"My friend lives here and I thought I'd come down visit her for the holidays before going back to college." You tell him and he understandably nods, feeling a pang of disappointment course through him when he realizes that you're probably young if he'd gotten his vague calculations correct.
"That's great. And is that her?" You both approach the front of the store where it's wide open and there are no shelves keeping you two hidden away. You notice your friend Mia giving you a quizzical look of disbelief, as her eyes dance between you and Chris who's used to fan behavior at different paradigms.
"It is and now I'm not going to hear the end of it." You face him with an apologetic look, cueing to Chris that you had to go. He took this in good stride while nodding with solemnness. "I should get going."
"Okay, sure, yeah."
"It was very nice meeting you, Chris." You lightly touch his arm as your thankful way of departure.
"Likewise." He answers with his eyes looking down at you and holding you in place for a split second. First goodbyes were just as ungiving as last goodbyes, especially when there's a sense of unknowingness in being reunited again. There's that chance you forcible take in hopes that the universe will have a timely plan and alignment.
"Y/N?" Mia impatiently calls for you from across the threshold and there is some shared awkwardness in letting go.
"You should..." Chris starts, eyes closing slightly as you back away.
"Right, okay well bye!" You yelp before spinning around, tight on your heels and trudging towards your friend who is now looking at Chris with big, bulbous eyes. Mia's mind races, pieces and panders like any inquisitively gossipy best friend that could've been plucked straight from a 2000's rom-com. She sputters right as you appear in front of her.
"What just happened? How'd you... Y/N, that's Chris Evans!" Mia profanely surmises just as you drop the box of cereal into the cart. "You were talking and smiling and being all cute with Chris Evans!"
"I know. Don't ask."
"I have to because he's eyeing like a hawk Y/N!"
"Oh shit, he is?"
"See for yourself m'dear." She snickers.
You turn around and notice that Chris is waiting in line but his eyes are fully on you as the smile on his lips broadens. There's a substandard twinkle in his blue irises that thanks you for your time - surely an impactful encounter that has him slightly enamored by you in clear focus. And that is enough for you to be contented, knowing that you had an unconventional meet cute with Chris Evans.
Imagine that.
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tommysparker · 3 years ago
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Never Forget You [Chapter 3]
Obi-Wan Kenobi x Jedi!Reader
A/N: hey y’all! thank you for your patience with this chapter. enjoy!! :) [also totally didn’t have this in my drafts then forget to post earlier pfftttt whaaaatt?]
Warnings: angst with a tiny amount of fluff. anakin finally makes his debut in this series. it gets better just stay with me. long italic paragraphs = flashbacks
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Anakin Skywalker had witnessed many things over the years. 
Giant beasts? At least once a week. Sith Lords? Becoming too common. Droid armies? All year long. Looking death in the eye? Simply another day in the life of a Jedi. 
Nothing could ever have prepared him for the sight he was currently witnessing. 
Obi-Wan Kenobi, his Master, The Negotiator, the Jedi Council’s most prized Jedi…sulking.
It has been a full week since You returned to the Jedi Temple and Anakin couldn’t help to think his former Master’s mood and your arrival were connected. He was vaguely aware of your past friendship, only hearing bits and pieces of the adventures you had together as Padawans. 
During his days under Obi-Wan’s apprenticeship he would often hear about how “a wise Jedi I once knew” would do certain things. He wanted to know more about this oh-so-great Jedi, however, any time the young boy asked his Master would always brush him off with a mournful look in his eyes.  
He didn’t understand at the time but now he’s beginning to piece together that perhaps there was something more between the two of you. 
“You think Master Y/l/n and Master Kenobi were courting?” 
“Keep your voice down, Snips,” Anakin hushed.
“Sorry, sorry. But Master,” Ahsoka lowers her voice, “what led you to that conclusion? I’ve hardly seen them together since Master Y/l/n came back. What makes you think they could be lovers?” 
“That’s just it, Ahoska. They’ve been avoiding each other like the Rakghoul plague. Obi-Wan told me they were such good friends, and now that they’re back they can’t stand to be in the same room as each other? I don’t buy it.” Anakin looked back to where Obi-Wan sat with Commander Cody, no doubt brainstorming new battle tactics and liberation plans. 
“So what do you suppose we do? Set them up or something?” The look her Master gave her made her regret her words the moment they left her mouth. 
“Come on, Snips. It’s a good idea. We get them to stay in the same room so they have no choice but to confront each other and talk things out! It’s genius.” Anakin smiled, his eyes still on his former Master. He had a feeling if Obi-Wan were to find out about this plan he would be in for a major lecture but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. He couldn’t stand to see the old man look so miserable, not if he can do anything about it. 
Ahsoka crossed her arms and followed her Master’s gaze. Something was clearly different about her Grand-Master. He had put his full attention into ending the war, which wasn’t new. However, she could tell something was off. He no longer came out to the landing zone to greet returning fighters, stayed away from the meditation and training centers as well as the Jedi Archives which was the most off-putting observation considering that was where he spent most of his time.
Anytime someone needed to find Obi-Wan Kenobi, the first place they would check was the ancient history section of the Jedi Archives. 
“I don’t know why you find so much interest in these old books Y/n/n,” Obi-Wan complained from across the table. “Can’t we go practice our lightsaber skills instead?” 
You smiled. “Nuh uh, mister. If I won the wager you promised to sit with me during my reading time. Now shush, and read.” You pushed the unopened textbook toward the pouting Padawan. “Maybe you’ll actually learn something.” 
Obi-Wan stuck his tongue out in a childish manner, sighing dramatically when you gave him a certain look and reluctantly opened the cover and began to read Tales of The Old Republic. 
Safe to say from that point onward, Obi-Wan would join your daily Archive visits with zero complaints. 
You close the book, careful to make sure no pages fell out and gently push it back into its place on the shelf. Using the force, you carefully push the ladder you were currently standing on over to the next column and begin nitpicking through the array of old texts. 
It took a few days for you to settle in and readjust to the Jedi Temple life. Once you had, however, things quickly took a turn. 
Master Yoda requested that you help train some of the younglings who were having trouble advancing into the next stages of becoming a Jedi. In all honesty, you much rather have had the freedom to roam for at least one more week, but the new role presented an excuse to not be around a certain blue-eyed Jedi. 
“Looking for something?” 
The voice startled you, causing you to jump and lose your balance on the ladder. You yelp as you begin to fall towards the ground, bracing yourself for the hash impact and the bruises that would add to the collection on your side still currently healing.  
Instead, you feel a pair of arms catch you, one under your back and the other behind your knees in a classic bridal style. The hold felt secure instantly, and you instinctively clung to the tunic of your savior. You look up to thank the person for preventing any injuries, but the blue eyes staring back at you made your mind go blank. 
Obi-Wan stared back, unsure of what to say. This was the closest he has been to you since you left a decade ago. He longed to have you in his arms, to hug you, to regain that safety net you provided he knew he could always fall back on.
“Um...thank you, General.” It came out as more of a question, your mind still reeling from almost falling and also the fact that the man who you had been actively avoiding just happened to be in the same place you spent hours of your youth together. 
“Obi-Wan, please. No need for formalities, darling.” The old nickname slipped out, and he was about to apologize when he noticed the light blush that spread across your face. Perhaps not everything about you has changed. 
“Right...Obi-Wan. Well, I’ll be on my way then,” You rushed, trying to pass by him but he stopped you once again by the call of your name. 
“Y/n/n’s wait. Whatever game you’re playing, frankly I am not a fan of it.” Obi-Wan crossed his arms and furrowed his eyebrows. 
“What are you talking about?” You turned around and looked at him confused. 
“You were the one who summoned me here,” he stretched his arms out, “here I am and now you’re trying to run away again. I hardly think that’s fair.” He was beginning to get frustrated. He came in with his heart on his sleeve, ready to finally talk to you after so long and find out why you’ve been keeping your distance. Now, all he felt was betrayal and irritation at the ongoing dance you insist on doing around each other. 
He preferred to dance like you did in your youth, but alas this was nothing but another sign he needs to get mind out of the past.  
You scoffed lightly. “Again? What is that supposed to mean exactly?” You knew exactly what he meant, but you didn’t want to admit it. You’ve been denying it for ten years and Force be damned if you’d admit it now. 
“You’ve been avoiding me since your return--” You open your mouth to protest but he ignores you and continues “--and then you send the youngling to bring me here, only to try to flee upon my arrival,” He frowns, lifting his elbow and resting it on his remaining crossed arm. “I know our history can make things...difficult in the present time,” He glanced around cautiously as he spoke,”but I would appreciate it if we make an agreement simply to not speak from now on. No more games.” 
You blinked, head tilting slightly as you waited for him to finish. “Obi-Wan, I didn’t ask for you to come here. Nor would I ever involve younglings in personal matters.” He should know that, you thought. But should he really? 
His face fell from annoyance to embarrassment, his arms falling to his sides. “Oh.” He wasn’t sure what to do now. It was his own fault for getting his hopes up. I should have known better. 
You purse your lips and nodded slowly. “Well, I’m glad we at least came to an agreement. Goodbye, General Kenobi.” You took your leave, forcing yourself not to look back as you felt his eyes watching your figure. 
Obi-Wan let out a frustrated sigh, knowing he just ruined any and all changes of reconnecting with you. In his defense, however, you were the one avoiding his attempts at friendly conversation and refusing to meet and make up for lost time.  
Still, something didn’t feel right about this. 
“What the kriff was that?” 
Ah, there’s that something. “Anakin, please tell me this was not your doing.” 
Anakin smiled guilty, Ahsoka coming out from behind the bookshelf to stand next to her Master. 
“It was Snips' idea.” Anakin shrugged, flinching when he felt her punch his arm. “Ow!”
“You were the one who came up with the plan, and now look! Master Y/l/n and Master Kenobi will never get together--” Ahoska stops herself, realizing she said too much. “Oh no.” 
“I beg your pardon?” Obi-Wan looks at them both incredulously. “First of all, Master Y/l/n and I are simply…” he wanted to say friends, but even that was a reach at this point, “acquaintances. We knew each other in the past, and in the past our friendship shall stay. As for ‘getting together’, you both know very well any implication of that goes directly against the Jedi Code.” He crossed his arms tightly as he scolded. 
“I can tell you harbour feelings for them, Obi-Wan. You don’t need to lie to us.” 
“Whatever feelings I may or may not have for Y/n are unrelated. You must understand your responsibilities as a Jedi. No matter what emotional sacrifice we must make.” He made a point to look at Anakin at the end, knowing he won’t follow the implication but at least hoping he’ll get the message.     
“We’re sorry, Master.” Ahsoka looked down in shame not at what they had tried to achieve, but at the cost and clear damage they caused. 
Obi-Wan sighed, running a hand over his beard before resting it on her shoulder. “It’s alright young one. You meant no harm. Perhaps some things are better left forgotten.” 
Oh, if only it were that simple. 
A Padawan approached the three of them quickly. “Excuse me, Master Yoda sent me to tell you he and Master Y/l/n are waiting for you all in the council room.” 
Of course, these things never are. 
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heres a box to put your heart pieces in  -> []  :) 
Taglist: @queenariesofnarnia @dwarfplanet69 @katsukink @blondekel77 @generousrunawaydonut @fandomtrashwhore @fortheloveofaqueenfan @mrskenobi19 @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @hotleaf-juice @emiijemii @neji85 @doctor-warthrop @ayamenimthiriel @lizzy-95 @lovelylostminds 
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wienerbarnes · 4 years ago
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A Certain Romance (6/6)
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Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Word Count: 1,609
Warnings: happy ending😁
A/N: another series in the books... hope yall enjoyed it as much as i did<3 thank u to everyone who liked/reblogged/left comments/read in general!
MAIN MASTERLIST | A CERTAIN ROMANCE MASTERLIST
Seven months go by before he sees you again.
A month after that double date, Sam asked about you, about what the two of you have been up to. He realized then that you hadn’t told Sam anything about the fight. You hadn’t said anything. You hadn’t said you’d “broken up” or even just came clean and explained the whole thing. You went on pretending the two of you were dating; did you do it to keep Sam off your back? Did you do it because you thought that’s what he would’ve wanted? He didn’t care about any of that, all he cared about was you. 
He told Sam himself about a month after that. He told Sam everything, about making the deal with you, how you were both feeling about the dating situation. He told Sam about the nights at your apartment, the meals shared, the stories told. He explained the fight that happened the night of the double date and how he’s still trying to get over his feelings.
Sam hasn’t set him up on another blind date, and he assumes he hasn’t set you up on one, either.
Five months after that conversation, he thinks he’s getting better. He thinks about you everyday; how you’re doing, what you’re doing, if you think of him. The only difference between now and seven months ago is that he doesn’t feel the same pain in his chest when he thinks about you.
For a long while it made him so sad, the thought of not being able to talk to you, not being able to see you, not being able to drop by your apartment and share dinner with you. But as much as it pained him, it was what you wanted. You wanted time and you wanted space, so that’s what he gave you.
He misses you, though.
He finds himself in your neighborhood as he approaches the coffee shop he’s been frequenting since he met you. You had gotten him coffee from there once and had him hooked. Perhaps he goes there because the coffee really is that good or because it was you that had showed him the place in the first place. He doesn't think about it.
He walks in and stands in the small line at the counter, not quite taking the time to observe the place and see every single person there as he normally would.
After ordering his regular coffee and placing the change from the ten dollar bill he gave the barista into the tip jar, he stands off to the side to wait for his name and order to be called.
And all it takes is a look to his left to see you sitting there, already staring at him with a surprised expression, for all his progress to disappear.
You look so beautiful.
He stares at you for a second, mouth slightly open before his tongue pokes out to lick at his now dry lips. He clears his throat and stands up a bit straighter to compose himself, or at least make it seem like he’s done so.
“Hi.” He says, a tad awkwardly, but in his defense, he wasn’t expecting seeing you here. He’s come to this same coffee shop in your neighborhood at least once a week for months now, and has never run into you here, even when you were on speaking terms. Of course he’d see you today; he should’ve worn a different shirt.
Your mouth opens to respond with a greeting when Iced black coffee for Bucky interrupts you. His head snaps towards the counter to retrieve the drink before walking slowly back over to where you sit at the counter against the wall.
“Hi.” He repeats again, the only word he seems to be able to say right now.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” You ask him, voice gentle and light, just as he remembers it always used to be. He’s glad that you’re not upset at the scenario of running into him, instead welcoming the interaction; a much better play of this happening than what he was thinking in his head.
He wasn’t sure how the first interaction after not seeing each other would be like, or if there’d be one at all; if he’d ever even see you again.
He was hoping for the movie reunion, spotting each other from a long distance and running into each other’s arms in slow motion, an 80′s love song playing in the background. He feared it’d take an opposite direction, you spot him from afar and walk up to him only to slap him across the face and spit on his shoes. He’d have nightmares about that last scenario.
Neither of you say anything for the first couple of minutes of your walk.
“I’m sorry for how I treated you that night.” You finally speak.
“You have nothing to apologize for -”
“No, Bucky, I do. I should’ve spoken to you about everything, even if we got angry, even if we yelled, but instead I ran away, and I’m sorry.” You tell him.
A moment to take in your words, “Well, apology accepted.” He forgives.
Another minute of silence. He’s not sure how to proceed. While an apology was given, nothing’s actually been resolved. There’s still tension, still wondering of what you’ve been up to all this time, still his own feelings for you that he realizes now after seeing you again for the first time in seven months have not dissipated at all and are very much real in his heart.
He sees in his periphery that you’ve stopped walking on the nearly empty sidewalk and he stops, too, turning around to look at you, a worried expression on your face.
“The truth is I was scared.” You say.
“Of me?”
“Of my feelings.” You clarify.
You inch a bit closer to him, “I was growing feelings for you, and that scared me.”
All he can do is stare as you open your mouth to continue.
“I told myself that I wouldn’t put myself in a position to be too vulnerable. I wouldn’t open myself up as much to people, I wouldn’t get into any more relationships, I wouldn’t do any of that because the last time I did, it fucked me up. And I know you’re nothing like him, but it still scares me shitless. It scares me that you waltzed into my life and made me feel this way in such a short amount of time. It scares me that you made me want to forget all those promises I made to myself. It scares me that you made me want all of that; that you made me want you.” You explain.
He takes a step closer to you so that you’re face to face and you can smell his cologne.
“I want you, too.” He whispers, unable to find the words to say anything else.
You look up at him, “It’s going to take a lot of time, and - and a lot of patience -”
“I’ll do it, I’ll do it all for you,” He promises, the hand that’s not holding his coffee reaching up to cup your face, your free hand laying on top.
He slowly leans in, wanting to kiss you; he’s been wanting to kiss you for seven months. He feels your breath on his lips as you speak again, “Please take care of me.” You tell him. It’s not a question, but a plea.
“I promise.” He whispers back, finally touching his lips to yours, and putting every emotion in it.
A single press of your lips to express how much he missed you, how much he’s thought about you, how much you’ve thought about him. How many times each of you came close to calling the other, unaware of the hope waiting for them to reach out. How many times he dreamed about you, dreamed about taking you out, about kissing you and touching you, about talking to you and wanting you to talk back, if only to listen to the vibrations of your voice in his ears.
Oh, how he missed you.
An afternoon he was planning to spend filling up his time with pointless tasks as a distraction is instead spent holding you in the bed in the back room of his apartment. The soft sheets and plush mattress not all that bad when he has you in his arms to share it with. Embarrassing confessions of how much he’s thought about you, including his breakdown of smashing your plant, which he can now laugh about. Tears shed as more apologies are shared among both parties, love sprouting in the place of fear of a new relationship.
How lovely it is to have you. To have a person he can be authentic with, tears and anger and happiness and laughs included. To have a person who he can take away their troubles and insecurities knowing they will do the same. A feeling he never thought he’d feel; a feeling he always assumed was reserved for the version of James Barnes that never got drafted into the army, the version of James Barnes that survived the fall and went home, or the James Barnes that never fell at all. He never thought he’d find the puzzle piece for his heart, but here you are.
It was a certain romance for two people who never thought they were deserving of love, who thought it just wasn’t in their cards. Maybe in a past life, or a future one, but not this one, not in the lifetime they just happen to be present in at the exact same time.
Perhaps it was a certain romance, or perhaps it was fate, acting through Sam Wilson on that night in that pretentious restaurant.
Which reminds Bucky, he should call his friend and thank him.
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pattercakebakersman · 3 years ago
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 Lemongrab 1 and 2 fanfic masterpost thing!
felt like compiling the fanfics I’ve written that focus on these two (together or seperately) into one post, along with some art I’ve done for my fics with IDs under the cut at the end :) I will add more fics as I finish my current wips and things.
Croak Dream -  “I had my croak dream.” Lemongrab 2 whispered, and from that moment things were never the same between the lemongrabs. (words: 3K) genres: angst. cws in post.
Brothers -  Lemongrab has a brother now but he’s not sure what that means having never encountered the concept of siblings before. The fact that he hasn’t encountered the concept of a loving family either doesn’t help much. (words: 1.5k) genres: fluff-ish? No cws apply other than maybe a bit of neglect. 
Bandage -  Lemongrab 2 falls and hurts himself shortly after being made, experiencing pain for the first time, so his older brother teaches him about this new emotion. (words: 2.2K) genres: angst with some hurt/comfort elements but not really. cws: cannibalism, abuse, unhealthy dynamic and also child neglect.
On Different Ships -  Lemongrab 2 talks to the lemon person his twin consumed for trying to escape. (words: 1.9K) genres: very angsty. cws: cannibalism obviously, the whole fic is set inside Lg1′s stomach. abuse, child abuse, implied character death, and just general depressings. Also this is quite old!
The Cleaner -  The blood soaked into the cloth slowly. They could smell how cloyingly thick it was with sugar - apparently the only sweet thing a lemon had was its lemonade. In which Lemongrab 2 cleans up yet another of his brother’s messes. (words: 1.5K) genres: angst. Cws: cannibalism aftermath, and autocannibalism. More cws in post.
Chekhov’s Gun - Lemongrab has a bad dream and like all children turns to his mother for comfort. (words 2.6K) genres: angst with some hurt/comfort but not really. Cws:  child abuse (Gumbald and Pb), and neglect
Birds of a Feather - Things are very, very wrong at castle Lemongrab but everyone pretends not to notice. But as Lemonhope’s inability to bend to his parents wishes grows more noticeable and Lemongrab’s behaviour becomes more and more bizarre, Lemongrab 2 is forced to face the reality of their situation and make a choice: their brother’s love, or their children’s safety. (Over 10K, 14 chapters, with 7 currently finished) genres: angst and psychological horror. Cws: massive cws for abuse, more detailed cw list in post. Not for people under 15/16 as it gets quite disturbing)
Choking On Your Own Tongue - Lemongrab 2 has broken their leg in an accident and while hospitalised has a shot at escaping their brother, if they would only take it. word count: 3.1K genres: pure angst. cws: abuse (previous physical abuse, manipulation and gaslighting, and threats), bruises from abuse, animal abuse/animal death, and hospitals.
Ebbs and Flows - Lemon Jon has died, causing Lemongrab 2 to come face to face with mortality for the first time in their short life. Grief and guilt stricken they begin to question what it means to create life. (words: 1.3K) genres: hurt/comfort, angst. Cws: existenialism, cannibalism, self starvation and adverse effects, there’s a scene set in a nightmare that features exposed organs.
Image descriptions:
First picture is a digital drawing depicting a fake cover featuring Lemongrab 1, Lemongrab 2 and the cosmic owl. The cosmic owl is at the top of the piece, spreading his wings and holding Lemongrab 2′s sceptre in his claws. The sceptre cuts down the centre of the image and splits it in half, with the left half showing Lemongrab 1 and the other half his brother. Lemongrab 1 is depicted lying on the grass in a suit of dark grey armour, with a green belt and a gunshot wound that has broken the metal over his chest, and which is seeping blood down his side into the grass. His eyes are glazed over and his mouth is slightly open, with blood trickling from his nose, and more blood splashed on his face. Princess Bubblegum’s hands are touching him gently, with one hand cupping his cheek and the other lacing her fingers through him. He also has a scratch on one leg that has beads of blood, and there is a forget me not blooming in the grass next to him. Lemongrab 2 on the other hand is trapped in the stomach and surrounded by darkness, with their legs bitten off. They are crawling back with a panicked expression away from Lemongrab 1′s hand that are groping for them. There are some geometric patterns around the picture, with the left side consisting of black triangles, and the right of white triangles. The words Croak Dream are written at the bottom. The word croak is in black, and the word dream is in white, and the o in croak has been depicted as a diamond shape that is half black half white. The background of the image is a dull orange.
Second image is a digital drawing of Lemongrab 1 and 2 standing arm in arm, both holding a mirror. Lemongrab 1 is smiling creepily and holding his sound sword, his mirror shows a reflection of lemongrab 2 with their hand on Lemonhope’s shoulder. Lemongrab 2 looks nervous and frightened, and their mirror shows a reflection of Lemongrab 1. The background is a green gradient fading to black. The words Birds of a Feather are written at the top in yellow. ED.
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freddie-weaselbee · 4 years ago
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Close Quarters//F.W.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Language, sexual references, partial nudity, like one paragraph of brief smut but no details, mentions of food, accidentally getting lit on fire (oopsie spoiler), angst, rude Fred
Summary: What happens when George moves out, leaving Fred to live with the one person he despises the most? Chaos, that’s what happens. 
Prompts: Roommates and Enemies to Lovers with the prompts “I can’t believe you talked me into this.” “This is the opposite of what I told you to do.” and “You can’t banish me! This is my apartment too!”
Word Count: 9k
A/N: This is for @theweasleyslut’s birthday celebration writing challenge, happy birthday love !! And also the first fic in Abby’s Week of Weasley, enjoy!
~Abby’s Week of Weasley Masterlist~ ~Masterlist~
As Fred Weasley sealed up the last box with an excess amount of tape, he took a second to step back and take in his surroundings. It was the same old loft he had lived in for the past 4 years. There was the couch and armchairs positioned around a coffee table, the Muggle guitar propped up on its stand in the corner, the many pictures of his family scattered around the open space. It was controlled chaos, and to him it was beautiful. But it was all changing, and much too soon for his liking. 
“Thanks for the help Freddie,” called his twin George from the other room. The tall ginger haired boy who had just spoken joined his slightly older brother in the main part of the loft, carrying a box filled with books he had collected over the years. “It really means a lot, Angie got pulled away for work so I know she’d appreciate it.”
Fred nodded and gave his brother a small smile. “Of course Georgie, anything else I can do?”
George took a look around the room. By the door were piles of dozens of boxes, all filled to the brim with George’s clothes and knick knacks. He sighed and scratched the back of his head, a deep sadness overtaking his features. 
“No, I think we’re alright,” he said. “Just need to get these to my new place and we should be all set.”
Fred let out a deep sigh and looked at his brother. They stared at each other for a few short seconds before dropping everything in their hands and wrapping their arms around each other. 
“Do you really have to go?” Fred whispered softly. It was so unlike him to be quiet, and even more unlike him to be nervous and shy. But watching his brother, who he had lived with for 22 years, finally leave and get his own place broke him. “It’s always been us, George, you and me, the Weasley twins. I can’t imagine living without you.”
George squeezed his twin even tighter, a loose tear falling from eye. “It’s not like I’m leaving you, me and Angelina will be just a Floo Network trip away. And you can’t expect her to stay here forever and be forced to live with you as well.”
Fred scoffed and let out a breathy chuckle. “What do you mean, she’s loved staying with us! The second she moved in with you she told me that she couldn’t imagine anything better than living with her lover and his twin brother who’s always around.”
“She was being sarcastic mate, she can only handle one twin at a time and unfortunately for you that twin is me.” George released his brother and quickly wiped his eyes, noticing Fred doing the same thing. 
“Whatever,” Fred replied, “it was getting annoying not being able to walk around freely in my own place without having to see you two shagging on every piece of furniture.”
“Not my fault she can’t resist my charms,” he said, giving his infamous Weasley smirk. “Maybe with us gone you’ll be able to finally find a girl.”
“I think I should focus on getting a roommate first,” he said, plopping down on the couch. “You know I can’t live alone. Remember before Angelina moved in and you stayed at her place for the night--”
“And you showed up at Ginny and Harry’s and crawled into bed with them because you were scared? Yeah, no one in the family’s gonna let you forget that anytime soon.” Fred shoved his brother and crossed his arms, sinking deeper into the cushions. 
“Sod off, you never know what could be lurking in the dark.” 
George laughed and joined his brother, kicking his feet onto the coffee table. “You know,” he began, mischief gleaming in his eyes, “I do think I have an answer to your roommate problem.”
“Really?” Fred asked, shooting up. The less time he had to spend alone at night, and alone in general, the better. 
“Yeah,” said George, “I ran into one of my old friends from school and turns out they’re looking for a place to stay and maybe earn some extra money. I was thinking that maybe, since you’ve got the space and we need some help in the shop anyway, they could take the other room and work downstairs on the weekends.”
Fred looked quizzically at his double, trying to read his intentions. “And who, pray tell, might this friend be?”
George just smirked and went to collect the rest of the boxes. “That, dear brother, is a surprise.”
------------------------------
You made your way down the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley, a place you had more recently been finding yourself. Work at the Ministry had been tiring, especially your first few years. But ever since the war ended and everything began to quiet down, you’d had some more free time to finally take in the world around you. 
It stood out like a sore thumb. The bright and gleaming storefront with an animatronic face looking down at you. You had never visited Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes before, always nervous about running into a certain redhead and falling back into the same argumentative habits you’d had at Hogwarts. Fred had always made it his goal to make your life a living hell, and you couldn’t lie, you did the same to him. But after having lunch with George a few days ago and suddenly receiving a letter to come and visit him at his shop, you decided that it was finally time to see the inside of Diagon Alley’s most booming business. 
The doorbell jingled as you walked in, catching the attention of your friend behind the counter. 
“Y/N!” George cried. He hopped over the register, knocking a few things down from shelves, before pulling you into a hug. 
“Hey George! So, this is the place, huh?” The inside was even more spectacular than the outside. The walls were lined with products from end to end, some of them you recognized from the twins’ testing at Hogwarts and others were completely new. An animatronic doll of Umbridge was riding across a rope close to the ceiling, making you laugh and remembering the horrors of your 7th year when the pink nightmare was in charge. 
“This is it!” George had his arm around your shoulder as he showed you around, pointing out different products and trying desperately to sell you one of their love potions, knowing exactly how single you were. 
“This is incredible, George, I can’t believe you guys actually did it.”
“You doubted us? And I thought we were friends!” He clutched his heart and doubled over, accidentally stumbling into a display and making all of the products crashing down. 
“Oi, George what are you doing down there?” You froze at the voice, one you hadn’t heard in years and one that you weren’t too keen on hearing any time soon. Fred appeared on the steps, wearing a dapper purple and orange suit, his hair slightly ruffled. The grin on his face disappeared when he made eye contact with you, being replaced with a scowl. “What’s she doing here?”
“Nice to see you too, Weasley.” You smiled at him, a fake mocking smile that made his blood boil, and how you loved getting under his skin. 
“George,” he said, acting as though you weren’t even in the room. 
The man in question shifted from foot to foot, fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket. “Well, uh, you see…”
“George sent me a letter the other day,” you interrupted. “Said that he had a proposition that he wanted to talk about and asked if I could come in today.”
Realization dawned on Fred and his eyes grew wide. “Oh no, George are you serious? She was the one you were talking about?”
You furrowed your brow in both confusion at the situation and anger at Fred, who had made you upset in record time today. “Talking about what? All I know is that he wanted to ask me something and I agreed to meet with him.” You turned to face the other twin. “What’s going on?”
“Ok, both of you calm down,” he said, hands up in defense. “Let me explain. Y/N, you know how you said you really needed a place to stay, as well as somewhere to work part time?”
It took you a couple of seconds, but you then understood what he was insinuating. “No. There’s no way, how am I supposed to live with you two when he’s going to be an annoying prat every second?”
“You’re not the most lovable person yourself, darling,” Fred sneered. “And besides, you wouldn’t be living with us. George moved out to get an apartment with Angelina. You’d be living with only me.”
Without a second thought you turned around and started toward the exit. “Well, I appreciate the offer George and it was great to catch up, hopefully next time I see you I won’t be bothered by your other half.”
“Y/N wait!” George cried, catching up to you and grabbing your wrist. “Listen, I know these aren’t the most...ideal conditions for you--”
“Same goes for me!” Fred called from the stairs. 
George sighed heavily, rubbing his temple in frustration. “Y/N, I’ve missed you over the past few years. I know that you and Fred don’t exactly get along.”
“That’s the understatement of the century,” you said through gritted teeth. “He’s annoying, cocky, inconsiderate, and--”
“And he’s my brother,” said George. “He’s a good person, and for whatever reason you two decided to hate each other, I can promise that the Fred you think you know is nothing like the real one.”
You paused your struggle against his arm and decided to let him continue on. 
“Let’s be real here. You need a place to stay and rent for most places in Diagon Alley is insane. If you stay here you get a nice bedroom, a cozy living room, a great view of London from the roof, and a low rate for rent. You can even work down here on the weekends to get the extra money you need. The only thing you need to do is be civil with Fred, that’s all.”
“That’s a lot more difficult than it sounds when someone’s as much of an arse as he is.”
Fred rolled his eyes and came over to join the conversation. “What would I get out of this arrangement George? I don’t know if you were unaware, but I don’t exactly need money at the moment, we’re doing just fine as it is.”
Great, you thought, he’s a pompous rich kid too. Gets a little money and it goes all to his head. 
“Fred, what were we talking about the other night?” George prodded. “You hate being alone, especially at night. If Y/N’s here, then you’ll have someone to keep you company, someone who’s always in the loft with you.”
“Aww, is little Freddie afraid of the dark?” you mocked, sticking out your bottom lip and jesting in a baby voice. 
He practically growled back. “Shut the fuck up, you--”
George put his hands out, one on your shoulder and one on Fred’s chest to separate the two of you. “It’s a mutually beneficial deal. You both know that you don’t have any other options, and maybe if you two dimwits spend some time together you won’t be at each other’s throat all the time! Now, what do you say? Just try it out.”
You looked Fred up and down dramatically, letting him know how much distaste for him you had. He did the same back to you but paused for a brief moment at your boobs, causing you to blush and look away. 
Fred was the first to give in. “Fine. I’m willing to try it if she will. As long as we establish some ground rules, starting with you can never come into my room, got it?”
It took everything you had not to slap the shit out of the man standing in front of you, but George was right. You didn’t have any other options. 
“I’ll at least have my own bathroom, right?” you asked George. 
He laughed guiltily and mentally prepared himself for another barrage of yells. “You see, about that…”
------------------------------
“Your room’s at the end of the hall, bathroom’s to the right, my room’s to the left, have at it.” 
You dropped the heavy boxes you had been carrying onto the floor and leaned over to catch your breath. Fred was standing nonchalantly in the kitchen, pulling out the bread and jam to make a sandwich. 
“Excuse me?” you asked indignantly. 
“You’re excused,” he replied, not even looking up. 
You stomped over to the small kitchenette and slammed the refrigerator door shut, which Fred just opened again seconds later. You tried again, but he merely sighed and reached for the handle. Finally after not being able to take any more you shoved his hand aside and stood in front of the door, leaning all of your weight onto it. 
“Something I can help you with, doll?” 
The anger coursing through your boy only intensified, nails leaving marks on the insides of your clenched hands. “First of all, don’t call me doll, understand?”
He rolled his eyes and grabbed you by the waist, lifting you to the side so he could once again get to his food. “I’ll call you what I want, darling.”
By this point you had completely given into your anger. Pulling your wand from your back pocket you shoved it under his chin, forcing him against a nearby wall and making him finally pay attention to you. “You listen here, Freddie,” you snarled. “Neither of us want this to happen, that’s a fact. But if you get to have ground rules then so do I, and I will not sit here and be quite literally tossed around like some quaffle! Have I made myself clear?”
It was subtle, but Fred gulped. You had always scared him at Hogwarts, which is one of the reasons he picked on you so much. He’d rather be on the offensive than always backed into a corner playing defense. 
“Ok doll--sorry, I mean Y/N. Let’s sit down and go over any rules, ok? As much as I enjoy being pinned to the wall by you, I think we need to defuse the tension, yeah?”
Even when he was trying to make peace he was infuriating. But you relented and slowly let the wand down, pulling out a chair at the countertop with Fred joining right next to you. 
Fred summoned a piece of parchment and a pen (which was always much easier to use than quills) and messily scrawled ‘Loft Rules’ on the top. 
“Alright, you can go first,” he offered. 
You thought for a moment before delivering your demands. “Number one, no nicknames. I go by Y/N, and I refuse to answer to anything else.” He nodded and wrote it down. 
“Number two. You can’t ignore me. I know you think you’re better than me and that I’m not worth your time, but if I’m going to be your roommate then you have to treat me as an equal, and I’ll do the same to you.” 
“Yeah,” Fred scoffed, “just like you did back in Hogwarts.”
“Can we please not focus on the past?” you asked. “I know we were both horrible arses to each other, but we’re not kids anymore. I’ll respect you if you respect me. It’s not that difficult.”
Fred grumbled in agreement and wrote down the second rule. “Anything else?”
“Don’t go through my room or my stuff. I have some very personal items and I would appreciate you keeping your nose out of them.”
Fred put the pen to his chin in concentration, ideas forming in his head. 
“Fred,” you scolded. “No touching my things. That’s final.” 
“Fine, but the same goes for me,” he said. “That’s my rule number one, stay out of my room and don’t touch any of my personal items. Furniture and that kind of thing don’t count.”
You nodded. “That’s only fair. Rule number two?”
“George and I are always working on new products, and usually testing them out on people. We’ll pay you to test them if you want, but if not you need to stay out of our way and mind your own business.”
“I’ll test anything you guys have, I did it back at school and I’m sure you’re much more professional now.”
“What?” Fred asked, completely confused. “When did you test our products?”
“Who do you think was the one who tried, and eventually perfected, the skiving snackboxes? George asked me to help him with them so I skipped prefect duties for a few nights and we figured it all out.”
“There’s no way you were the one who fixed them! I’ve been giving George the credit this whole time, how in the world did you do that?”
You shrugged. “I wasn’t top of our class for nothing, Freddie.”
“Oh I know, you never let me hear the end of it.”
Before you could say something in response Fred rushed on to his last request.
“Number three,” he said, smirking widely. “You can’t complain about any of the girls I bring home, and you can’t get in their way or say bad things about me. Believe it or not, I can be quite charming and I give everyone a good time, so no complaints of noise either. And we don’t use silencing spells, so get ready for that.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Thank you. Now, I’m going downstairs to help George with a new shipment that just came in. Have fun unpacking your things!” He didn’t even give you a chance to say anything before aparating downstairs, leaving you alone in the large loft. You sighed and went to grab the boxes, dragging everything to the room you would be stuck in for who knows how long. 
------------------------------
“This is the ugliest uniform I’ve ever seen!” 
“Then it’ll match the rest of your personality! Put it on.”
You scoffed at Fred’s remark but decided not to argue. No matter how much you despised the boy you figured it probably wasn’t the best idea to start off by insulting your boss. Fred Weasley was your boss. You never thought you would reach this low of a point in your life. 
The outfit you had to wear was exactly what Fred and George wore, which was fine for them, two 6’ 3” men. But the oversized male suit that you had to roll up countless times really didn’t suit your figure, and Fred knew that all too well. 
Scrunching up the pant legs and fastening the tie, you made your way out of the loft to join the twins down in their office, running into George on the way down. 
“Hey Y/N, sleep well?” George asked, handing you a latte he had bought from the coffee shop down the street. 
You gave him a grateful nod and took a sip. “Hardly. I didn’t get moved in until about 2 in the morning and I always have trouble falling asleep in a new place, so let’s just say last night was a pretty rough start.”
“Fred didn’t help you unpack your things?” George questioned, looking a little surprised. “That must’ve taken you ages to get everything set up.”
“You’re telling me. But no, he just holed himself up in his room, ordered takeout around 9, then went back to his room and that’s all I saw of him. But I mean that’s pretty in character, yeah? Never really liked me much.”
It took George a few seconds to take in everything you were telling him. Fred was never one to ignore someone, especially someone he was living with. “Yeah,” he said, “but even so he was never actually rude to you at school right? I always thought it was some teenage rivalry fueled by hormones of something like that.”
“I wish it was that simple,” you sighed. “But I always appreciate when he’s leaving me alone. It’s a lot better than some of the asshole things he would say and do when we were kids. Trust me, the less we interact, the better.”
George was speechless with shock, but you didn’t notice. You made your way to some shelves to tidy up before the shop opened, leaving George standing open mouthed. 
He watched as Fred finally exited the office with a stack of papers piled higher than his head. He dropped them next to you, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. “Fill these out for me will ya? Order forms, due back to me by noon. Shouldn’t be too complicated for you to understand, but let me know if you need me to explain what any of the big words mean.”
“Of course, sir.” you said, picking up the stack and taking it to the back. Fred came over to join his brother, who looked appalled at Fred’s actions. 
“What?” he asked. 
“I love you, but you’re a fucking moron.” George followed you into the back while Fred stared at him, confused on why his brother had for once in his life not been on his side. 
George spent the rest of the morning showing you the ropes until you felt you were comfortable enough with the setup to be able to help them stock products and show people around. It was a nice change from your Ministry job, which was predictable and could be quite boring. This job had you always on your toes, talking with kids and demonstrating some of your favorite products. 
The twins came back from their lunch break around one and were met with a large crowd of kids following you around like lost puppies. They were all grinning widely and laughing at every demonstration you provided, making you mirror their actions with glee. 
You tried to show the kids how to use one of the newer products, but it ended up exploding in your face, making everyone howl with laughter, including yourself.
Fred watched you interact with the kids, enraptured by how easily you seemed to get along with them. When he knew you at Hogwarts he always thought you were a cocky and arrogant student who would’ve hated the idea of his pranks and jokes. The person he was watching now was nothing like the one he remembered. 
“She’s a natural, huh?” whispered George, snapping Fred out of his stupor. “She’s always been good with kids, they seem to love her.”
“Y/N?” Fred asked. “She was so cold back in Hogwarts, I never saw her smile once!”
“Really?” George asked bewildered. “She’s always been a blast! Lee and her were friends and I can’t help but think he might’ve sparked the wild side in her, but I’ve never seen her be cold to anyone. Well, anyone except you.”
Before Fred could see anything you noticed the twins’ arrival. Smiling, you gestured to them and announced their presence in a regal voice. “And there they are, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!”
The kids cheered and ran over to greet Fred and George, bouncing with excitement and berating them with questions about their products. George gave you a teasing glare as he was dragged across the floor while you sat on the counter, laughing at the scene you caused. But when you went to look at Fred, who you expected to be ignoring you, he was doing the complete opposite. 
He was staring at you unashamedly, his eyes burning into yours. You awkwardly looked away, but when you glanced back a few seconds later he was still analyzing you, as if he was trying to figure out everything about you. You cleared your throat and moved to the back office, hoping you could get a start on that paperwork and maybe shake the weird feeling you got when Fred looked at you like that. 
------------------------------
“All closed up for the night?”
You jumped at Fred’s voice, which had distracted you from casting the last of the protective charms needed to keep the shop locked up. With an entire alley filled with wizards who learned Alohomora in their first year at Hogwarts, it was safe to say they needed their fair share of charms to keep the store from being robbed. 
“I was almost there, before you interrupted,” you said, turning back to the final spells you needed to cast. It had been a few weeks since you moved in with Fred and it had honestly been a lot better than you had expected. Of course, you two were still constantly at each other’s throats and the neighbors had complained about shouting matches more than once, but neither of you had killed the other yet and you considered that a victory. 
As you finished up the last of your closing duties you saw George grabbing his things and heading to the Floo network upstairs, trying to rush past and avoid you and Fred. 
“Hey!” you yelled after him. He stopped dead in his tracks and tried to shrink down as if to hide from you. But, being over 6 feet tall, it was rather difficult for him to disappear. “Where do you think you’re going? Stop trying to sneak off on us!”
“Yeah,” said Fred. “We’ve had takeout the last three nights in a row, we need you to stay and cook us a decent meal so I don’t have to smell Y/N’s fast food breath anymore.”
You elbowed him but nodded in agreement, you were getting absolutely sick of not having a home cooked meal. 
“Guys,” George groaned, “I need to get home to see Angie! I’ve been working late for the past week and it’s been a while since we’ve had some...alone time.”
You and Fred both covered your ears and gagged, pretending to pop a puking pastille and subsequently throw up. 
“You’re both so immature, and that’s coming from me,” he said smiling. “Besides, isn’t it high time you two learned to cook for yourselves? What were you gonna do, just have me cook for you the rest of your lives?”
“Yes,” you and Fred replied in unison, shooting each other dirty looks before turning back to your friend. Fred, with his unhealthy obsession with pyrotechnics, and you, with your lack of basic common sense, were never allowed in the kitchen before, and so neither of you had any idea how to cook even the most simple of meals. 
George rolled his eyes and continued up the stairs to the loft, you and Fred following shortly behind him. 
“I’m sure you’ll be fine, just follow the recipe I laid out for you. It’s spaghetti, I’m sure even you two couldn’t mess that up.” And with that, George had whooshed through the fireplace, leaving only you and Fred in the kitchen. 
You stared at each other for a second, before you came to a decision. “I’ll order the takeout, you want Chinese tonight?”
You picked up one of the many takeout menus you had lying around and began to skim through it when Fred spoke up. “No, George is right. We might as well try to learn, and with two of us we should be able to figure it out.”
You looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “That is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had, and you’ve had some really dumb ideas.”
“C’mon,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “We’re both smart, some of us more so than others. How bad can it possibly be?”
Answer: very bad. 
Fred was running around the kitchen screaming at the top of his lungs while the fire alarm blared all throughout the loft. “Y/N, help! It won’t stop screaming at me!”
“I don’t know what to do!” you yelled, throwing the burning cookbook into the sink. There was still smoke rising from it, which made the alarm continue to beep at full volume. You grabbed the pot of boiling water and poured it down the drain, hoping that it would put out any of the pages that were still flaming. But the water only splashed up at you, making you yelp and fall backwards in order to avoid being burned by the liquid. 
Fred was still scrambling through the rooms and he didn’t notice your body laying on the floor, causing him to trip over you and faceplant into the spilled marinara sauce. 
The two of you tried to get up but your limbs became tangled in each other’s and you ended up on the ground again. After a few struggles you were finally back on your feet, but you were once again off of them as Fred hoisted you into the table. 
“Get on my shoulders,” he said over the sound of the alarm. You climbed on and reached up to fumble around with all of the buttons on the device. “Hurry up, Y/N, I can’t support you for much longer!”
“I’m trying, I’m trying!” After what felt like ages you had finally pushed the right sequence and the loft was drowned in a sudden silence. Both you and Fred let out sighs of relief as he lowered you back onto the table. You hopped off and took a few steps back, finally taking in the disastrous scene around you.
“Well,” you said relieved, “at least that’s over.”
You turned to smile at Fred but we’re only met with a wide eyed look of pure horror. 
“Fred? What is it?”
It was then that you smelled it. The familiar burning that had just been flooding your nostrils moments before was suddenly back and stronger than ever.
Slowly, you turned your head to look behind you, and your eyes widened even larger than Fred’s had. “I’m on fire!”
Sure enough, your oversized sweater had been dangling in the flame of the kitchen stove, which neither of you had remembered to turn off. The bottom of your outfit was slowly burning, bright orange and red flames climbing up your torso. 
“Fuck! Fred, do something!” you wailed. You began running around the kitchen and spinning around faster and faster to try to put out the fire. 
“I’m trying!” Fred grabbed a blanket from the living room and draped it over you, hoping to cut off the oxygen flow. But the fire only spread to the blanket, making your situation ten times worse. 
“What the fuck Fred?! Do something useful!”
Fred dove under the table, reaching for his wand. He shimmied under a little more, but his right pant leg got caught in the burning blanket, meaning that both of you were now being engulfed by the flames. 
“Holy shit!” He patted the small flames on his pants away, but you were frantically trying to shove yourself into the sink under the running water. 
Grabbing his wand, Fred tried to get up, banging his head on the table in the process, and aimed it at you. “We never should’ve tried cooking! I can’t believe you talked me into this!”
“This is the opposite of what I told you to do!” you shrieked. “Now put the fire out you moron!”
Fred quickly cast Aguamenti, sending gallons upon gallons of water out of his wand and straight onto your flailing body, as well as the burning blanket. You sat in the sink, ass half in the now empty spaghetti pot, completely drenched from head to toe. Fred’s pant leg was still simmering, and his entire face was covered in marinara sauce, which had dripped down to cover most of his shirt. After all of the shock of what had just happened finally passed, a small smile crept onto both of your faces, and soon you were both bent over laughing hysterically. 
Fred lifted you out of the sink, pushing you away suddenly when he realized how much water was dripping onto him. “C’mon, love, let’s get you cleaned up.”
“Hey, I thought I said no nicknames,” you teased, falling in step with him as you both rushed to your shared bathroom. 
“C’mon, just this one, please? I deserve it after what you put me through back there.” He gave his best puppy dog eyes but you didn’t fall for it for a second. 
“What I put you through?!” you said, bumping into his shoulder. “You thought we were supposed to light the noodles to get them to soften! I caught on fire for Pete’s sake!”
He laughed at you as you turned on the bathroom sink and tugged at your sweater. It was completely scorched in the back, black all the way up to your collar. You were lucky Fred had put it out when he did, otherwise there was a good chance it could have damaged your hair. 
You took the now ruined sweater off, leaving you standing there in only your bra and a pair of comfortable pants. You could feel Fred’s gaze on your body, making your face turn red and you instinctively covered yourself up. He unbuckled his scorched trousers and hung them in the shower, hoping that maybe he could get some material and fix them later. 
The both of you realized simultaneously that you were each half naked, and you were completely soaked wearing a fairly transparent white bra. Deciding to distract from the obvious tension, you finally broke the silence. “This may sound completely ludacris, considering I was just, y’know, on fire, but that was one of the most exciting and fun things that’s happened in a while. Reminds me of when we were back in school, with all of the mischief and pranks.”
“Back in school?” Fred replied. “I thought you hated my pranks! You seemed like you were so, i dunno, above me. And I thought you hated everything fun and exciting!”
“You’re not serious, are you?” You smiled at his confused expression. “I was friends with Lee and your brother. The amount of trouble I would get in when you were off in detention or shagging some girl in our year...it was fantastic. I never hated your pranks, I just hated you. No offense.”
He shrugged. “None taken. I hated you too. But you’re nothing like I thought you were.”
You took a step closer to him, softly biting your lip as you grinned sheepishly. “You’re nothing like I thought either.”
This time Fred moved a few inches closer, his hand hovering over your hip and eyes taking in all of you. His fingers brushed against your side ever so softly, caressing your side with his fairy light touches. You slowly parted your lips and he did the same, continuing to grow closer and closer until--
“What the bloody hell happened here?!”
The two of you shot apart at the noise, registering that it must’ve been George who had used the Floo network to come back to the loft. You avoided eye contact with the redhead standing next to you as you both exited the bathroom and went to find George, who was looking wide eyed at the complete mess you had created all over the apartment. 
“Y’know what,” he said after looking at the current state the two of you were in, “ I don’t wanna know. I just wanted to come back, grab the papers I left here, and be on my merry way.”
He stopped short, looking over at you again. “Nice tits, Y/N.”
You quickly crossed your arms in front of your chest again and Fred stood in between you and George, blocking his view of your very exposed self. 
“Calm down, Freddie, I have a girlfriend, I’m not going to be ogling your roommate, dear brother.” He tiptoed around the giant mess and grabbed a stack of papers sitting on the coffee table. “Oh, and before I forget, Y/N, remember that guy I was telling you about? The one investor I work with?” he said with a wink. 
“Umm, yeah, what about him?” you asked, still very shaken up about the events of the evening. 
“He said he’d love to get to know you! I told him he’s your type and apparently you’re very much his, so I set up a date for you two tomorrow night. Is that alright?”
Fred snapped his head in your direction but you refused to look at him. What had happened in the bathroom was a mistake, an adrenaline induced mistake that almost changed everything for your roommate dynamic. You couldn’t mess things up now, not when you and Fred had finally been getting along. Besides, you had been dying to get out and date, and George had at long last found you someone that wasn’t a complete asshole. You’d be a fool to not give it a shot. “Y-yeah, that sounds great.” 
“Perfect,” he replied. “I’ll see you two tomorrow then. And please, don’t ever cook again. I promise I’ll be here to make you a nice meal next time, alright?”
George disappeared once again, leaving you with the man who had almost kissed you in the bathroom of your shared apartment. Fred moved away quickly, going to clean up the mess the two of you had made. You tried to follow and help him, but he just shooed you away and back to your room. 
Just a few seconds ago Fred was mere millimeters away from you, but now he felt like he was millions of miles away. 
------------------------------
“Ready, Y/N?”
George was standing in the opening of the bathroom door, watching as you put the finishing touches on your makeup. You decided to put your best foot forward tonight. No use wasting a great opportunity just because of some unwanted confusions from the other day. Turning to face you friend you did a little twirl, dress flying up and spinning around you. 
“How do I look?” you asked bashfully. 
“Brilliant,” George replied, a proud grin on his face. “Let’s get you downstairs, he’ll be waiting to meet you.” 
The two of you made your way to the staircase leading out of the loft, when a very upset and very tipsy Fred stumbled by the two of you. He pushed past and didn’t even stop to say anything before heading out of the shop and down the street. 
“Where’s he off to?” you asked. 
“Oh, just to shag another random girl he finds at a bar. It’s a weekly occurrence for him at this point. It stopped once you moved in though, this is the first time he’s gone out since you’ve lived here.” George looked longingly at his brother, who had always turned away from his problems and instead focused on firewhisky and girls to temporarily ease his pain. 
“So, he doesn’t really date then? Just the hookup type?” you prodded, hoping against all odds that George would give you the answer you wanted to hear. 
“He used to, back in school and before the war. But something just happened after he got out of the pile of rubble,” he said. “I haven’t ever seen the same girl around here more than once or twice. But hey, as long as he’s alright it’s really none of my business. I just gotta look out for him, y’know?”
You gave George a reassuring smile. “You’re a great brother, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told. Now get out there and get yourself a man!” George gave you a little shove in the right direction and you set off for your date. 
Although you were hoping that this could be a change of pace, a push in the right direction, the date did not go anything like you were wishing it would. 
The man George had told you about, Jason, was a perfectly fine guy. He was polite, charming, very handsome. But while the two of you wined and dined, you couldn’t help but compare him to something else. Someone else. No matter what he said, what jokes he would crack, it just wasn’t what you wanted. 
You thanked him for a wonderful evening, but it was fairly obvious that neither of you had intentions of seeing each other again. As you sulked through the dark streets of nocturnal Diagon Alley, you couldn’t help but mentally kick yourself for giving up so easily. One date and you decided that this man wasn’t worth your time. And for what? An unrealistic expectation you’d conjured up in your head about what your ideal person would be. 
As you trudged up the stairs to the loft, thinking about how in the world you would ever be able to actually find someone else to go out with, you heard shouting from inside the apartment. You reached to open the door, only to have it yanked open and a young woman, clothes hastily thrown on and pure fury etched across her brow, came charging out. 
“This must be her, isn’t it? This is Y/N!” she turned her back and yelled. Fred suddenly appeared, shocked to see you home so early. “Well, answer me!”
Fred and you both stood there speechless, Fred not knowing what to say and you now knowing what was going on. “Y/N…” he finally said, so quietly that you could barely hear him. 
This just set the other girl off again. “What are you, his girlfriend, wife maybe?” 
You shook your head fervently. “N-no, not at all! We’re just... roommates.”
The girl seemed to calm after this, reaching out to put a hand on your shoulder. “That’s a relief I guess. I thought I had just become an accidental homewrecker!”
“Homewrecker?” you exclaimed. You didn’t even know this girl, she was just one of Fred’s random hookups, but she thought that she would be breaking up a nonexistent relationship between you and Fred. 
“Yeah,” she said, “he brings me home from the bar, sweet talks me, gets me naked, and you’ll never guess whose name he moaned as he--”
“That’s enough!” Fred yelled, shoving the girl out past you and grabbing your wrist to pull you into the loft. “Look, I’m sorry Marcy--”
“It’s Macy, you dumbass,” she said, fixing her messed up hair and putting on a look of confidence. “And the night is still young, so if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go find someone else who can actually remember my name!” She slammed the door shut behind her, the thud echoing across the walls. 
You clicked your tongue, trying to fill the absence of noise without wanting to bring up the very interesting news Macy had provided. “So, I’m sorry about your date--”
“Let’s not talk about it,” he interrupted. “I’m going to bed and I don’t want you to mention this to anyone else, understand?”
You didn’t give him any attention as you went to your room, trying to comprehend everything that happened. “Well, my date was a bust too, thanks for asking,” you said as you copied the earlier actions of Macy and slammed your door shut. You undressed and removed your makeup, hoping that a long night’s sleep would allow you to decompress and somehow sort out everything you were feeling. 
------------------------------
Your goals of a long and peaceful sleep were shattered as a high pitched, incredibly annoying alarm clock beeped from the room adjacent to yours. You groaned and covered your ears with your pillow, trying to block out the noise to no avail. Rolling over, you saw your clock displaying 6:00 am, a time you definitely didn’t want to get up at on your day off. 
You thought Fred would have woken up by now and turned off the horrid sounds, but it continued to ring through your ears, getting louder and louder each time. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore and you jumped out of bed, storming over to Fred’s locked bedroom door. 
“Frederick Gideon Weasley!” you screamed, banging on his door. His blaring alarm was only adding to your awful mood, caused by the terrible night you had before. You didn’t think you could stand one more second of the noises and you were practically screaming Fred’s name. 
“Turn that off, right now! Fred I’m not kidding! This is your last chance.” You continued to pound your fist against the door to the point where you knew you were going to bruise if you had to continue. Completely fed up with the situation and with Fred in general you pulled out your wand and unlocked the door. 
“Fred Weasley for the love of--” You stopped abruptly and took in the scene in front of you. You’d never seen the inside of Fred’s room before, but you had to imagine that it didn’t always look this bad. This...dark.
 The drapes were hanging from the windows, covering any source of light that could’ve possibly come in. Clothes were strewn across the floor and small knick knacks were thrown everywhere with no care. The alarm continued to blare, but you couldn’t focus on that at the moment, the only thing you could focus on was Fred. 
He was curled up in his bed, Muggle headphones covering his ears and blasting music so loud that you could hear it clearly from across the room. He was clutching a pillow into his chest, head buried into it and his body shaking with what you thought to be sobs. No, it couldn’t be. Fred couldn’t be crying. 
Suddenly he jerked up and threw off his headphones, finally noticing your presence. “Freddie…” you said softly.
“Get. The fuck. Out.” he growled. He wiped his tears away and the sadness you had just seen in him had completely turned into something else. Complete anger. 
You ignored his command. “Fred, are you ok?”
Shooting out of bed, clothed only in his boxers, Fred grabbed his wand and almost charged at you. “I said get out!” he screamed, tears continuing to stream from his face. “Go! Leave! I don’t want to see you again!”
You backed out of the room, hands in the air as the tall infuriated figure towered over you with his wand in your face. “Yeah, ok I’ll just, umm, go back to my room.” 
You tried to rush back to the safety of your bedroom but a harsh hand grabbed your shoulder and turned you around. “No,” he seethed. “I said get out, that means get. out. Get out of my apartment.”
“Freddie…”
“Don’t call me that!” He wasn’t even trying to hide the tears now. They came streaming out, drowning his face. “Leave the apartment and don’t come back. You’re… you’re banished!”
“Excuse me?” you asked, hands on your hips.
“I said you’re hereby banished from the loft and from my store!” 
“You can’t banish me! This is my apartment too!”
“Banished! Leave! Go!” He ran into your room and started pulling clothes out of your drawers, throwing everything onto piles on your floor. 
“Fred! Stop that, what are you doing?”
“I said banished and that’s final, get your things and leave.” He continued to pack your clothes, not even paying attention to what he was tossing and barely being able to see through his tears. 
“Well...you’re banished too!” you screamed at him. “You’re in my room, that’s one of the rules! Get out, you’re banished!”
“No, you’re banished, I said it first so only mine counts!” 
“No, you’re banished”
“No you are!”
“No--”
“Just get the fuck out Y/N!” Fred yelled, louder than he’d yelled anything before. “I can’t stand seeing you anymore and you need to go!”
“Why?” you pushed. “I see you crying one time and suddenly you can’t stand me? Are you really that scared of being vulnerable?”
“Yes!”
You both froze, taking in what he just said. He sucked in a deep breath and wiped his face with one of the shirts he was holding, coming close and staring straight down into your eyes. 
“Yes. I don’t want you to see me curled up in my bed, crying into my fucking pillow because I miss my twin brother! Because I can’t handle being alone, and even when someone's living with me I’m still alone! Because you hate me, and I can’t even tell the girl I live with that I love her, because then you’ll laugh at me and leave! And maybe it’s easier to just make you go rather than being abandoned, again. So, Y/N, you’re banished, from my apartment and from my life.”
As he finished his rant you stood there, not knowing what to do or say. The ever-happy, cocky, overbearingly confident man in front of you had just vented out everything he had been feeling for the last few months. You couldn’t think straight or come to a rational decision. So you did the first thing that came to your mind. You grabbed his cheeks in your hand and pulled him down, enveloping his lips in yours. 
He didn’t hesitate to kiss back aggressively, all tongue and teeth. It was nothing like any first kiss you’d had with anyone else; it wasn’t sweet or loving. It was passionate and needy, and it was both of you confessing everything you’d held in your hearts for the past few months, and if you’re being honest, for the past decade. 
In seconds you were on the bed, legs straddling the person you had despised for years. Neither of you could let go of each other, only coming up for air when absolutely necessary. Hands on each other’s bodies, clothes abandoned on the floor, screams of each other’s names and moans of ‘I love you’s echoing off the bedroom walls, until the two of you were tired and panting, your head resting on his chest and his arms around your waist. 
You twisted your head to stare up at Fred’s sweat-glistening face, the tears long since dried and his expression showing none of the negativity it had before. Snuggling into his bare chest even more, you murmured something too quiet for him to hear. 
“What was that, darling?”
“I asked if you still wanted to banish me after that.”
He laughed and squeezed his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. “Definitely not. I mean, unless you want to go.” He shifted nervously, fears of abandonment and rejection resurfacing. What if this was just a heat of the moment thing? What if all you wanted was a one time hookup and you didn’t have real feelings for him? What if he was bad? No, that last one couldn’t be it, your screams had said otherwise. But everything else…
“Of course I don’t want to leave Freddie, but you did break the “no nicknames” rule a second ago, so maybe I should banish you.” He ruffled your hair and glared at you before chuckling and slowly closing his eyes. 
“Hey Freddie,” you asked quietly. “Did you mean what you said? About loving me?”
“Course I did, love. Why do you think I was such an arse at Hogwarts? You were too pretty and perfect and the stupid guys were always talking to you. Made me bloody pissed. I’m sorry about everything I’ve done to hurt you, really I am.” You could hear his heart beating faster at his apology. You traced your cool hands in patterns on his chest, sending shivers down his spine. 
“Well I was never an angel either,” you said. “One time I snogged Roger right outside the Gryffindor Common Room just because I knew you were gonna be leaving for Quidditch practice soon and I liked getting under your skin.”
“I knew that was planned!” he said, shooting up and making your head hit the headboard behind you. “No one believed me, but I knew you were a little minx just trying to get under my skin. But I see nothing’s really changed, has it?”
“Oh shut up!” you said, suddenly self conscious of your very naked body being on full display, Fred’s eyes raking you over. You covered up and snuggled back into the bed. “I love you too, y’know. I’m sorry I’m such a stuck-up snob sometimes.”
“S’okay, darling. I know you were just like that in response to me. Sorry for pushing you away so many times. I guess I tend to do that a lot.”
“Hey.” You raked your hands through Fred's messy ginger hair, pulling strands into tiny braids. “You know that George didn’t abandon you, right? He loves you more than I’ve ever seen someone love before.”
Fred nodded softly, tears forming in his eyes again. “Yeah, I know. But it’s hard. We shared a room for 18 years straight, both at home and at Hogwarts. Then we shared an apartment, and now it feels like he’s not even here anymore. Which is bloody stupid because I see him downstairs every day. I just...I want to be able to come home and tell someone all about my day, and talk about dreams and goals until 3 in the morning, and--”
“And try to cook dinner together only to end up on fire?” you interrupted with a smile on your face. “I know I’m no George, but I want to be there for you in any way I can. Stay up late and go on adventures and go on double dates with your brother and Angelina. I wanna be yours. I mean, if you’ll let me.”
Fred cupped your cheek and pulled you into a chaste kiss. “I’ll do more than let you, I was about to ask anyways but you had to beat me to it, didn’t you?”
“It’s a habit,” you shrugged. “I’m glad you tried to banish me.”
“I’m glad you wouldn’t let me. Looks like your stubbornness finally paid off.” You shoved his chest lightly and wrapped your arm across his torso. 
“I love you Freddie.”
“I love you too.”
A few silent moments passed with the two of you wrapped in each other’s arms. “Hey Fred?” you said, finally breaking the silence. 
“Yeah?”
“Can you please get up and turn off that bloody alarm?”
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loneliii-aura · 2 years ago
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Extremely curious about "Slightly heinous porn" vs "Absolutely heinous porn" if you're willing to share!
LMAO oh boy, putting this under a cut for those who don't want to know about my weird writing. (I'm choosing not to warn here, so read at your own risk other followers) I may grow incoherent with mimosa.
"slightly heinous porn" are two pieces set in the "Hissera" verse I have in Dragon Age; the gist of the plot is that a sareebas (magic user from the "qunari" culture that basically treats their magic users as living weapons, to the point of keeping them on leashes and sometimes sewing their mouths shut - half the point of the verse is to make the qunari make sense to me, which they really don't in canon) manages to escape her handler and runs off to elope with an elven circle mage (the southern human culture, generally, keeps their magic users kept in "circles", aka oppressive institutions mages are kept in from when magic is first discovered in childhood to death - it's wildly awful) she's been visiting in her dreams for the past decade, and the Valor spirit that's also with both of them! Lesbian poly triad ftw
Anyway, one piece is a specific type of kink, and the other is from before Hissera left her (first?) Master, who's been using sex and various manipulative strategies to keep Hissera compliant, rather than purely punishment or refusing to acknowledge her.
"It hurts," I whined, barely more than a whisper, scared that my mouth would be sewn if I opened it too widely. I was always scared, then. 
"The hurt is the discomfort of change, weapon," She said. "Do your bones not hurt as you grow?" She had put a hand to my stomach, then, so gentle and warm. "This too hurts, but you will overcome it. You must be marked as a weapon for all to see, but you will be beautiful." She drew her hand up, then, to cradle my face under the mask. I shook, but I did not struggle against her from then.
As a weapon, I was decorated to reflect my master. Rope covered my body, another sign that I was held back and under control - that she had such control over me she could turn me into anything she wished. I had seen Sareebas with sewn lips, whose hands were bound constantly, and I was none of those things, for I trusted in the Qun, in my Arvaarad, and did not give into the whispers of demons."
and the other part decade/s after the one above, written from the elves perspective:
She expected to see discomfort or that blank look Hissera got when her memories were too overwhelming. Hissera rarely liked her genitals touched in the waking world, though she enjoyed kissing. Natalie wished things could be different, wished she could show Hissera physical pleasures, but what they had in the Fade was just as good. Hissera had even used her hands on Natalie before, though the times where either of them could get clean enough for that were few and far between, on the run.
What she hadn't expected was a strange, longing look that made Natalie's heart clutch.
Hissera said nothing, but pressed a kiss to the top of Natalie's head, and reached out to tug Natalie so she was cradled in Hissera's lap, legs draped over Hissera's knee. This time, as she pressed her mouth to Hissera's nipple, Hissera's large hand found hers, and she was guided to hold the same breast.
"Absolutely heinous porn" is noncon monsterfucking, but I've been struggling with it for months because I'm trying to write it from the aggressor's POV, which is basically a snake-person master wondering how far his slave will go - he's been shaped as the perfect slave in almost every other manner, but will he be up to this challenge? No matter the outcome, it should be amusing to the master, etc etc. No pieces from that one though, for the reasons mention3d above
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yournotsolocalcryptid · 4 years ago
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If you are still doing the dialogue prompts could I be super annoying and say that I couldn't decide which ones I liked so I picked out a couple for two different types of fic, I need you to choose for me 😂 12 “Could you ever be happy with me?” 17 “Why are you looking at me like that?” For maybe angsty Billy/Four 20 “Oh, fuck” / 21 “Did you just moan?” 52 “You love me and want to have my babies, I get it” For fluffy friends to lovers with Ben?
I couldn’t decide so I’m doing both. the other one has been already been posted here
Prompt list: 55 dialogue prompts
Prompt(s): 12. “Could you ever be happy with me?”, 17. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Pairing(s): Billy/Four x GN!reader
Warnings: ANGST, mention/implied smut so 18+, fluffyish ending? maybe?, poor writing skills, poorly proofread and poor editing
Word count: 1.5k (I think this is the longest fic I've ever written?)
You had joined the team nearly a year ago and you’d been having the time of your life- or afterlife- ever since. You loved the team, Three made you laugh, two trained you in the gym, five and Seven were like siblings to you, One was like your grumpy yet funny uncle and Four… Four and you had a bit of a complicated relationship. He always seemed a bit distant, you’d see him laughing or chatting animatedly with some of the others and when you’d walk into the room he’d shut down or blatantly ignore you.
You two did have some good times, more than once you’d found him in the kitchen in the middle of the night with a beer and a snack (which incidentally was why you were there as well) and you guys would joke, laugh, tease and just generally have a grand time and then you’d end up bent over the kitchen counter while he slammed into you or with one of you on your knees making the other see stars. but the next day he’d be harsh, dismissive, or in full avoidance mode. You didn't expect him to be different or gentler with you as the sex was never romantic, it was always rough (and mindblowing), you didn't expect a fucking proposal or anything but his hostility irritated you, it made you so angry, but mostly, it just made you so fucking sad and you weren’t quite sure why.
You had no reason to be sad, you had no reason to be hurt by his actions you told yourself repeatedly but... he was so charming and funny and endearing, and that first kiss… you swore it started soft and sweet before it turned rough and sloppy but maybe you just imagined it. Maybe you just wanted to believe he was able to be soft and vulnerable. Either way, you had no reason to be sad so why was there a lump in your throat every time you thought about him?
So you would push down the sadness and act on your anger. You would avoid him harder than he was avoiding you, you would shoot him quick dirty looks and glares when you had to be in a room together and you’d work out harder than you usually did until you’d ultimately end up, once again cuming around his dick while he said the filthiest things in your ear. After the most recent night in the kitchen and Four hadn’t avoided you he just glared and pretend you weren’t there which was almost worse.
Now you were in the gym, beating the shit out of a punching bag, brows furrowed as you fumed about Four. you’d been there what must’ve been about an hour when the door opened and Four walked in. He froze for a moment in the doorway when he saw you, then continued to the other side of the room where he set his things down and wrapped his hands. Then he walked over to the bag next to yours and started punching. This made you angrier. You started punching and kicking the bag harder and harder until you exploded
“What the hell is wrong with you?” you yelled at him “genuinely what the fuck is wrong with you? Your distant, you’re nice, you fuck me, you hate me, you fuck me, you hate me, we get along, we fuck, you hate me! It’s the same fucking thing over and over again! And it’s fucking exhausting!”
Four had at this point, stopped boxing and was staring at you with a look you couldn't place.
“I don't know if you’re worried I’ll get attached if you’re nice to me after we fuck” you were no longer yelling but your voice was still harsh “or maybe you genuinely hate me and you’re only pretending to be nice to me so you can get laid” but even as you said it you knew that wasn’t the truth, you knew he was better than that “and after you’ve gotten what you wanted you can’t pretend any more but... this shit is exhausting” you tone had shifted again. The shouting had turned to a general accusatory harshness which had turned to a quiet voice cracked with emotion. “...I’m just so tired” and with that you turned and left, leaving the few things you’d brought down with you as Four just stood there, frozen.
You made your way to your room and took a shower, all the while willing yourself not to cry because, as you told yourself, you were angry, not sad. So there’s no reason to cry… right? After your shower, you immediately got into bed, wet hair and all, where you just stared numbly until you dozed off.
You were woken a few hours later, by the sound of your door being opened. You rubbed your eyes and sat up to see four standing in your doorway, his figure lightly illuminated by the lights in the hall.
“What do you want?” you asked wearily
He opened his mouth a few times as tho trying to figure out what to say but nothing came out.
You were watching closely trying to read his expression but you count even begin to know what he was thinking or feeling.
“Four?” you pushed
Still nothing.
“Billy?” you prodded quietly “what are you doing here?”
He said nothing. He just looked at you with such intensity but you still couldn't put your finger on what was going on in his head.
“Billy, Why are you looking at me like that?”
A a long beat of silence and then:
“Could you ever be happy with me?”
“What? I-” but you stopped at the look on his face. It had shifted ever so slightly and now it was as if you could read every thought and every emotion and it made the numbness you had forced yourself to feel fade away. It made you want to cry. You’d never seen him look this vulnerable. His eyes were wide and sad and scared, his lips were trembling slightly and his body language was hunched and fidgety. Memories of your first kiss, of the laughter and bonding you’d experienced with him all those nights in the kitchen, of the sex, swirled in your brain as you sat in your bed then, You stood, reached out, took his hand in yours and pulled him to you, engulfing him in a tight embrace. He was stiff in your arms unsure of what to do but desperate to give in and melt into your touch.
“Of course I could be. I would be” you said softly your lips just barely brushing his skin as you spoke and Billy finally gave in. His arms clutched you closer and you could feel him let out a big breath that neither of you had noticed he was holding.
“Then why aren’t we together?” he whispered into your shoulder, his voice cracking slightly “why did I push you away?”
That knocked the wind out of you. You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. Why did he sound so broken? Why did that question shatter your heart into a million little pieces? A tear finally slipped down your cheek.
“I-” you started “I don't know”
Billy pulled his face from your neck and looked into your eyes. One of his hands shifted to cradle your head and after a moment of silence he asked “can I kiss you?” he’d said it so quietly you could barely hear it. It was as tho he didn't want you to, as though he feared you’d say no or laugh in his face if you heard him. But you just nodded
His head dipped to meet yours in what was the most melancholy kiss either of you had ever experienced. Your arms shifted around his neck and his hands drifted to your waist as the kiss deepened. Both you and he were lost in each other, from the minute your lips met. When you broke apart his forehead rested on yours and you both just stood there in silence, both afraid to ruin the moment and neither sure of what to say or do next. This was completely uncharted territory for you both. After a while, you gave him a quick sweet kiss, pulled out of his arms, climbed back into bed, and looked at him expectantly.
“Well?” you asked
“Well… what?”
“You coming?”
“what?” he was so unsure of himself within this moment that nothing was making sense.
You rolled your eyed at his cluelessness and reached out to him with grabby hands
“Oh.. yeah” he climbed into bed with you and You both fidgeted and shifted until you were comfortable in each others arms.
After a few minutes of silence, you said “Billy?”
He hummed in response
“If you ever treat me like that, if you ever hurt me like that again, I’m gone”
He placed a kiss on your forehead and said “as you should be”
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