#new self insert i fucking guess. throws hands in the air

[supernatural-bias]

i don't wanna talk about where i got my inspiration from but. let's just say i really enjoyed the gladiator two movie.

[binniesthighs]

Hey! Can I request a minho smut where y/n and minho are boxing partners and theres that sort of tension at every practice you know? And the boys keep telling you he likes you but you dont listen and theres pining and then finally at that one practice he makes a move and that leads to ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I love your writing so much and I think you're absolutely great🥺

ANON I love the way that your brain works I’m losing my MIND over this one. oh my gosh and I’ve been dying to write some minho so this has given me the best excuse!!! also thank you so much lovely! It makes me feel all fuzzy inside knowing that ya like my writing! and you’re great was well anon ;) 

pinned | reader x minho |

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x lee minho

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: boxer!minho, boxer!reader, boxer au, pining!minho ahhhh, skz side characters, friends to lovers, growing feelings, minho is whipped for the reader, praising, sexual tension, oral (r & m receiving), marking, unprotected sex (stay safe loves!), soft shower sex

Word count: 4.2k

“Again! Minho, watch your footing, you’re tripping all over yourself.”

Seungmin threw a towel in the general direction of your sparring partner who nearly missed it flying at his head. Beads of sweat waterfalled down his forehead, and it got stuck in his scalp, turning his hair into strands.

“Getting tired?” You jested as Jeongin tightened up your gloves.

He smirked out a little, “Tired? I’m just getting started.”

“You’re losing your edge Lee Minho. I’ve knocked you down at least four times already.” Jeongin helped you by squirting water into your mouth. The cool drops felt heavenly falling down your neck.

“Distracted then?” Hyunjin whipped his disheveled blond hair into a hair tie. “Something on your mind?”

In one sweep, Minho ruffled up his own hair with the fabric of the towel “Distracted? No--”

“Listen Minho, I know that I’m not looking the most glamorous right now but you should get your head back in it, I’m barely breaking a sweat.” You shoved him a little with your gloved hand, handing out a teasing grin.

Your partner bounced a little in place, shaking out his limbs. “Alright...”

Any other day, it would have been Minho who had you stumbling down to the mat, breathless and muscles aching. It was always a mystery to you where he got his stamina from when he was in the ring with you. Outside of the ring, no one could have ever guessed that boxing was his pastime--the giveaway was his knuckles: they were nearly always bruised.

You had met Minho and the rest of your friends nearly a year ago when you joined the gym, just looking for something new to try. Seeing as you and Minho were nearly the same size, it made sense for the two of you to be partners. Even though he was quiet around you, he would always put up a fight. Beating him for once was exciting. When you were the one standing, it felt good, admittedly. The little rush to your head when his body hit the floor was too exciting to ignore. You could really get used to the way that he would stare back up at you, lip quivering just slightly and his abs seizing under his shirt. It was cute almost, you had thought, when you saw the way that his expression would soften underneath you.

Jeongin waved you over to strap your head gear back on with a tiny cringe. “As your friend, I’m gonna tell you that you stink...rather than not saying anything about it.”

Your gloved hand mimed a punch to his face. “Thanks for the info. I’m hitting the showers after this.”

The rest of your little group gathered near to the edge of the ring, towel drying themselves of their own sweat and shadow boxing the air around their fists.

“I’ve been watching from over there...damn Y/n…” Changbin sauntered up, throwing his jump rope over his shoulder. “You’re really improving.”

“I had a good teacher, handsome.” You clicked out a little salute to him.

“Ahhh, stop flattering me.”

“Let’s start.” Minho butted in while he popped in his mouth guard.

“Hands up!” Seungmin called.

The burning of your hamstrings had told you that you were nearing your limit for the day, but nothing felt better than chasing your victory over him once more. In his eyes, he held a darker kind of confidence this time: it clouded his eyes which narrowed. When he would focus, Minho seemed to inspect every single part of your body like he was planning exactly where he wanted to hit first. His eyes would dance around your frame for just a few seconds, then he would know your first move.

Want me to go easy on you this time? You jested under the plastic of your mouth guard.

His right fist hooked directly at you before you had registered it, colliding right with the foam of your headgear. He had hit you with such a force that it felt as if he had shook your eyes, blurring your vision.

“Hands!” Changbin growled from the sidelines, and you did as you were told.

In a couple ways, boxing was like dancing, except you were trying not to get all wrapped up in your partner’s arms. The goal was to prevent him from touching you, so your feet would bounce and skip around him in circles, never letting his steps dominate you. With every twist of your bodies, they would interact with the other, it was all give and take. Perhaps like dancing, the tension between you was tangible, but instead of harmony, there was a dissonance.

Minho swung at you to your right, and you bobbed your head in response. As you chased him back, the plastic blue under your feet would crinkle. Your hands never left the cover of your face only until the few milliseconds when you would make a swing of your own. Had he bopped a second too late, you would have given him proper payback for how hard he had punched at your face.

Seungmin barked out more combos for the two of you to battle in attempting first. It really was like the perfect dance: every time that one of you would swing, the other would float around it.

“Get a hit in! Quit playing with him!” Changbin chuckled from the sidelines.

“Minho! Come on!” Hyunjin spurred his friend on.

As he would, Minho’s curious eyes focused back down on you again, scattering around while he calculated out some kind of invisible equation as he inched you toward the edge of the ring.

“Slip! Slip!” Changbin grabbed onto the bouncing ropes of the ring and Minho hooked into your side.

You twirled your body out past him, letting his punches meet the side of the ring. Your motion had caught him off guard once you had escaped his attempt to pin you.

Now he was the one that was pinned.

In his excitement, Changbin bounced up and down, “JAB JAB!!”

Minho’s focus faded after you had squatted and carried out your swing to his side, and another to his arms covering his face.

“Your stance! Minho!” Seungmin gasped as Minho tripped himself to the ground.

The rest of the group leapt into the air, hollering into the echoey and concrete space.

Minho’s body hit the ground with a thud. His gloved hands became clumsy as he tried to brace himself, and his face was cleanly met with the blue mat.

Your victory was short lived once you saw the way that his eyes wrinkled upon his fall.

“You okay?”

“--Fine.” His words winced through his teeth. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Jeongin bunny hopped into the ring to undress the velcro of your gloves and headgear.

“Don’t lie to me Minho, you can’t lie about these kinds of things.”

“I said that I’m fine.”

Your free hands helped him to his feet. “Have Chan look you over ‘kay? I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to hit that hard...”

Minho shook out his wetted hair once he was free of his headgear. “Stop apologizing. I’m gonna head to the showers.”

Without another word, he slipped under the ropes, hunched a little as he tossed his tape away.

Hyunjin handed you your water which you took thankful gulps of. “Do you think that he’s mad at me?”

“No. It’s not your fault.”

“My fault?”

Hyunjin shrugged with a little smirk. “He’s doing it to himself.”

“Doing what??”

“Boxing knock all the logic out of you? Are you seeing okay?” Hyunjin waved his hand in front of your eyes.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Ahhhh Y/n...silly little Y/n. How many times do I need to tell you?”

“No...this isn’t about that again is it?”

You guzzled down more water and were just a little tempted to flick some of it over on Hyunjin’s unrealistically gorgeous face. Anything but this again.

Changbin threw a white towel at you. “It’s honestly comical at this point.”

“Not you too.” You rolled your eyes.

“He’s literally fucking falling over himself for you and you still don’t see it.”

“I’m not seeing anything because there isn’t anything to see.”

“I can’t believe you.” Changbin and Hyunjin exchanged equally unimpressed eyerolls.

“You said it yourself ‘Bin, I’m getting better. All this practice and I can finally beat him. Why aren't you celebrating with me Mr. “I’m-The-Best-Boxing-Teacher-You-Will-Ever-Meet-Or-Know?” If, if he’s got a thing for me, why hasn’t he said anything?”

Changbin sighed out. “I don’t know, I don’t know how the hell he works. No one really does. He isn’t really the sharing type.”

“You ask him.” Hyunjin announced point blank. “If you’re so skeptical, ask him.”

An unwanted heat assaulted your cheeks. “I’m not--”

“--Oh my god, are you scared to ask? ~Mmm-how unlike you~” Hyunjin patted your head like you were a little dog. His eyes widened. “Are you saying that you feel--”

“--You know what! I’m going to hit the showers too. I’m a mess. Don’t hang around.”

“It never hurts to ask!” Hyunjin called after you, giggling a little in his own teasing way.

“There’s nothing to ask!”

((       ))

“Lock up when you’re done!” Chan’s voice rang through the empty hall of the gym, flicking off a couple lights behind him.

The green-white fluorescent lights above you buzzed with an insect-like ring and flickered every view seconds. Up high on the concrete walls, opened horizontal windows were cracked, letting in the humidity of the summer night, and carried in the sound of crickets singing their nighttime ode. The dark corners of the room seemed perilous compared to the single ring that was lit just for the two of you.

“Minho, I’m exhausted, how much longer do you plan on staying?” Your punch mitts fell to your sides.

“Just a little while longer. I’ve just felt...kinda out of it this week. I could use the extra practice.” His eyes shied, “I appreciate you staying after.”

“Let's just get this over with.” You raised your mitts in front of your face, holding your ground.

Minho huffed out a determined breath, then swung at them with all his might. The sound of the tight fabric patted through the room. His eyes didn’t meet yours for several minutes, his pure focus on each carry though of his arms sent little shock waves to your wrists. Time ticked past on the particularly loud clock nailed to the walls and caged in a little metal grid.

Rather than striking up a conversation like you would, Hyunjin’s voice taunted over and over in your mind like a curse.

“It never hurts to ask!”

Minho stepped back, catching his breath. “I think I’m good now.”

“Great!” You snapped your thoughts back to the moment. “I’m gonna wash off before I head out...you?”

“Probably. The water at my place as been fucking freezing lately, I swear that my landlord is a criminal.”

“Oh...sorry about that.”

“ ‘t’s fine. I’m talking with him tomorrow.”

“I’ll head in with you then…”

((       ))

Chan’s gym had a propensity for having facilities that were usually slightly off-- the automatic lights being one of them. If it wasn’t for more of the high-set windows, it would have been pitch black in the locker room, but the nearly full waxing moon filled the whole room with brilliant silver light. Among the metal of the lockers and the porcelain sinks, the room seemed to be bathed in a bluish tint.

“He’s really gotta get the lights fixed.” You said aloud, merely just trying to say anything to fill the quiet of the room.

“Add it to the list.” Minho breathed out a snicker. “That fourth sink hasn’t worked in weeks.”

“Really?”

The two of you had made some sort of unspoken rule being in the room together: backs turned, not daring to look at the other while you undressed, somehow it seemed like the respectful thing to do. The cold tiles met your bare feet, and your damp skin met the cool air. Suddenly the warmth of the shower sounded like the most enticing thing you could imagine.

Minho’s presence behind you intrigued you sneakily, thoughts pervaded your mind that you hadn’t expected.

Hyunjin had almost asked you if you had feelings for Minho. What would you have said?

You pulled your towel over your body, tucking it in place. “I...I wanted to apologize for the other day. I got too cocky. I shouldn’t have jabbed you that hard, and on your side. That wasn’t...fair of me.”

“I said before, drop it.”

You turned, and the sight of him nearly startled you. You had never totally imagined what he looked like under those white shirts that would cling to his sweating body, but it was nothing like this.

Minho’s back was magnificently sculpted and his shoulder blades curved and poked out from under his skin almost a bit like wings. The curve of his spine traced down his back in a perfect line, and it arched a little as he twisted his body around. Two little dimples peppered right above his waist. Close to his ribs, a little purple mark faded into the pale of his skin.

“I-is that…”

You advanced closer. In the blue light of the room, your eyes couldn’t make out what it was, but you suspicion twisted knots into your stomach.

Minho jumped a little seeing how close you had drawn to him after not hearing your silent footsteps.

“Is that...a bruise? Did I bruise you?”

Panic set in Minho’s eyes. “--No! No, that’s from a couple weeks or so ago, some stupid accident, I can’t really remember.”

“...Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He nodded.

“Well...if you’re lying, I’ll--”

“--What, punch me again like that?”

Minho’s smiling eyes crinkled up slightly and you felt yourself met lightly into them: his smile was something that you knew you had always found to be adorable. Seeing him like this brought memories of him on the mat, flat on his back, those same eyes looking up at you in his awe.

“Haha. Funny. No, I won’t hit you.”

“Good. That did hurt though.”

“...sorry.”

Water dripped from a sink somewhere, and Miho’s hand lingered on his locker door.

“I haven’t hurt you before...have I?”

“You?” In your confusion, your brows scrunched together. “Not that I can remember I think. I know that it looks really dramatic when I fall but--”

“--I don’t want to hurt you either, you know right?”

“It’s just boxing, Minho, it’s not too serious, I know that you’re not like, out to get me or whatever.”

Under the silver-blue moonlight, Minho’s pale skin seemed illuminated. “Hmm.” He sighed.

When he faced you, you could see his pronounced collarbones and the way that his arms stretched out the muscles underneath. Never would you have imagined him to look this breathtaking. You chalked it up to being tired, but creeping little thoughts wove around your brain, whispering tantalizing ideas.

Silently, you wondered what he would feel like under the touch of your fingers. Every single curve of his body you wanted to trace, just to see where they would lead. You hadn’t noticed, but Minho had watched you as your eyes journeyed over him, just as his eyes had done countless times to you before.

You held his eyes tentatively with Hyunjin’s words on your tongue. “Minho, can I ask--”

Minho’s answer was hastily given to you in the form of him clambering his lips into yours while he drew you into his bare chest; he was much warmer than had imagined. There was something frighteningly intimate about the both of you meeting in a tangle of skin and lips; the heat of his chest and yours mixing. He had kissed you so suddenly that you seemed to stumble over your own lips deciding if you wanted to kiss him back. While he was needy, the way in which he ran his lips over yours was more caring than fleeting and impulsive. He knew exactly what he was doing as he gave into the magnetism drawing him into you.

Your partner’s hands cascaded down your back, drawing little squiggles down your spine, causing your legs to buckle slightly. He flooded your mouth with his kisses, each one more searing than the last, each one desperate to tell you what his words couldn’t. At last, you let your shocked body return to him, kissing him back. The moment that you did so, he shuddered into you, clawing lightly at your back. The tiniest “oh” from his lips moaned into your mouth and he shifted to tangle his hands up close to your scalp, drawing you even nearer to him.

He murmured onto you,  “I can’t tell you how long I’ve had to hold myself back.”

It was the slick of his tongue running over your bottom lip that sent you spiraling for him. Just as you had wanted, you let your hands traverse all around his chest and his back, following the lines in his body as if they were a treasure trail to something that you could barely comprehend. Your touches on his skin turned his breaths into unsteady little whimpers that traipsed in between your mixing of lips and heated exhales.

“Mm-please...come with me?”

((       ))

Condensation had gathered heavily upon the deep green tiles of the shower wall while it too dissipated up into the air of the dimly lit bathroom. Swirls of the white wisps entangled around you and you breathed them heavily into your lungs. Under the warmth of the water, your body felt perfectly at ease: your aching muscles too revealed in the feeling that the heat brought, and Minho’s kneading hands worked at every knot in your body while he touched everywhere he could...as if he was starving for it. Handfuls of your skin filled up his greedy palms.

“You’re so beautiful. Everything about you...I’ve always wanted to tell you…” Minho kissed down your neck lapping at your nerves and disrupting the trailing of water down your body. “You-you make it so hard for me.”

“Hard to do what?”

“You’re irresistible.”

Minho’s words escaped from his lips like fresh honey while you were left to melt under them. After being so quiet around you, you felt yourself a fool to have ignored everything that was in front of you; and for being as stubborn as you were.

Further down your body, Minho let his hands fall down your own chest, ghosting his fingers over your nippes. The softest touches from his hands made your buds harden instantly, and your arousal pooled obviously within your sex. To steady yourself, you had thrown your arms over his shoulders and scratched at the combination of water and strings of muscles on his back.

“I-I should have listened, Minho...I’m-mm-so sorry.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” He broke for a moment to catch your gaze. “Can I show you? Can I show you how much you drive me absolutely crazy?”

Minho coupled his words with the scrape of his nails down your arms. Every touch that he gave you was needy and testing. You set yourself giddy a bit thinking of how he must have imagined this very moment countless times.

Your hot breath tickled the wet skin of his neck where you returned his kisses. “You can do whatever you want.”

With your permission, Minho’s body appeared to tighten. Where he had pinned you against the wall, his painfully hard member dripped out his eager pre-cum, and throbbed against your belly. Your mind ran free thinking of the ways that you would show him attention as well.

“Mm-tell me to stop and I will, okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

Minho let his kisses waterfall next to the flowing water down your skin farther and farther until he had hovered over your own sex which had grown painfully swollen waiting for his touch.

In the silver moonlight, Minho’s brown eyes glistened while he looked up at you, teasing you with his tongue, never granting you the full satisfaction. The corners of his mouth curled into a smile seeing how you reacted to his agonizingly slow lapping.

“~Y/n~” He sang, “You taste so good.”

“More…” You pathetically pleaded. “Stop-stop teasing me...Minho.”

He did as he was told, granting you more of his mouth, and sucking steadily and purposefully as you grinded into his mouth for even more. Minho reached behind you to grab out handfuls of your ass in his hands, lovingly kneading the skin at the same time. Water droplets had showered over his face, and strung together his eyelashes in a way that you could have sworn made them look as if they sparkled.

Before your orgasm hit, you demanded of him, “Come up here.” The way that his dick had twitched while he had sucked on you was becoming too hard for you to ignore.

With your finger tracing along his jaw, you kissed into his mouth, “My turn.”

The tiles were a bit hard on your knees, but after you had swung his beautifully thick thigh over your shoulder, nothing mattered as you had found your perfect angle.

You have him sloppy kisses all along his length and bit into his thighs, indulging in him, pulling at the skin where he was much more sensitive than you had expected. While it was contradictory, you gave him as many hickies as you could on the skin of his milky inner thighs. The purple love bites were gorgeous on his shaking legs.

“oh god.” He moaned out.

Your tongue teased him for a little while longer, then his hands told you what they wanted you to do. He had braided his fingers deep into your strands, and pulled your lips up to meet with his tip.

“God, I want you so bad, please, y/n.”

Just as how you had felt when he was at your mercy on the mat, he was all yours now: yours to take apart, yours to put back together.

“Needy baby.” You cooed into his leaking slit. “That bad?”

“Are you going to make me beg more?”

“Maybe I like it?” Your wrist jerked at him at last.

“Please give me your mouth, I can’t wait any longer.”

“Cute.”

Upon fully taking him in, Minho gasped out so sharply and loudly, it even surprised you. Never had someone been so needy for you, it was intoxicating. You took him in gradually deeper and deeper, pushing down your throat. All around you, the showering water coated you in an ocean of comfort; it trailed down your hair and fell down the sides of your face and your arms, no place was untouched.

Minho’s pruned fingers dug into your shoulders, “get up--fuck--”

At first, his fingers entered you, teasing your hole. Your stringy slick mixed with the water clinging to his fingers. The orgasm that he had once started within you pooled heavily and tightened at your core.

“Show me Minho, give it to me.”

He instructed you by picking you up into his arms, then pinned you against the tiled walls, back flat against the cool stone. His fingers dug into your ass, aligning you over his dick. It took all of your strength to wrap your arms and legs around him, but he held you back with ease.

“I-I’m not too heavy?”

“No. Not at all, you’re perfect for me. All of you.”

Together, you shivered at the feeling of connection once he had entered you, instinctually finding each other's lips between the water.

Minho’s thrusts started out slow and careful, planned almost. He was intentional in the way he reached as deep inside you as he could and listened to every response of your body.

“Mm...keep going,” you panted, “like that. ‘Feels so, so good.”

Time faded into non-existence this way with Minho dragging his hips in and out of you with a tantalizing speed. More than anything, it was the closeness that you felt taking him in so wholly, feeling every inch of his length. Each time that he grazed you deep, you sunk deeper into him, becoming weaker and weaker in his arms.  

“I’m so close. Can I cum?” Minho’s brown glistening eyes pleaded to you.

You nodded eagerly, and it was if a switch had flipped inside him. All at once, he shoved your body harder into the wall, screwing you into it. His arms flexed where he held you, and his chest flushed red as he neared his release. When he did, his face was near euphoric as he milked himself completely into you, reaching one hand down to give your sex more attention, using his thumb to apply pressure.

When you reached your release, you could only helplessly convulse in his arms, thighs quivering against his hips.

Minho cradled you as you came down, smoothing the top of your head, then eventually helping you stand on your own. “You okay?” He took both sides of your face gently in his palms. “By the way, what is that you were gonna ask me earlier? Sorry…”He bashfully grinned at you. “I had other things on my mind.”

You took his face in your hands too, firstly brushing over the little mole on his nose, then delighting in the soft hairs of his cheeks.

“It’s okay. I got my answer.”

[buckyownsmylife]

Every Part of me - Tom Holland smut

The one where you and Tom are ex-lovers

Warnings: smut, kinda dubcon? but maybe not really (Tom just steps in and makes sexual decisions without discussing previously with the reader, but she accepts it wholeheartedly), slight degradation (Tom calls the reader cockslut and greedy little whore and dumb little baby, but I think that’s it), face fucking that causes slight asphyxiation, breeding kink, rough sex, dirty talk, spanking and the likes

A/N: Day 2 of Kinktober! Today’s prompts were face fucking and breeding kink with Tom Holland. Hope you guys like it! And thanks for everyone who has sent me messages about my accident, I’m actually feeling a lot better, although still in huge pain. 

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I knew he’d been watching ever since I stepped foot in the set. To be fair, I couldn’t say I wouldn’t do the same. It hadn’t been much over a month since we decided to call it quits, and despite knowing it was for the best, it didn’t change the fact that my body still felt perfectly tuned to him and his gaze, the way he’d lick his lips after his eyes caught mine. So I tried not to look, knowing it wouldn’t make much of a difference in the end.

At least my job was quick and easy and despite knowing he’d be around, we weren’t expected to be in a scene together. Still, two weeks felt fourteen days too long and the day before I was expected to leave, the exhaustion of being on the edge all the time had caught up with me. I was scared, constantly tense about the possibility that I’d find myself standing too close to him and one whiff of his cologne would make me lose all the control I was struggling to hold onto.

I couldn’t even predict what would happen, I just know it wouldn’t be good. Not for our intentions to stay away from each other. So that’s why when Anthony and Robert asked if I wanted to go out for drinks, to celebrate my last night on set, I politely refused, explaining how utterly drained of all energy I felt. Thankfully, they conceded, leaving me alone to sleep this last night before I could go back to the comfort of my own house. I guess the fact that they knew about our break up helped a bit. Robert had looked at me with kind eyes that let me know he was understanding of my situation.

Nonetheless, as soon as I got into my room, I grabbed a bottle of wine and unscrewed it, determined to finish it tonight. Perhaps the buzz would help me sleep, but what I needed the most, however, was a distraction, and since a night out with friends wasn’t possible, I decided to give myself a night of relaxation. 

As I poured myself my first glass, I stripped down to nothing, leaving my clothes on the floor as I opted to put on one of the silk robes the hotel offered. Nothing says solo party like semi-nudity. Besides, I was planning on jumping in the tub any minute now.

My idea, however, was cut short by a strong knock on my bedroom’s door.

Raising an eyebrow, I approached the door cautiously. I wasn’t expecting anyone and I hadn’t even called for a meal yet. Another knock resonated and I sighed, quickening my step to open the door to the stranger.

“Tom.” The word came out more as a whisper than anything else. He, on the other hand,  didn’t say a word. Instead, his eyes gazed hauntingly into mine with an intensity I hadn’t ever seen before. “What are you doing here?” I asked when I felt enough courage to break the silence, but my voice came out weak and hesitant. I hated myself for that. I wanted to sound strong, enthusiastic, even. Not like someone who missed the weight of his body over mine.

The same thought must have been in his head because at last, his eyes broke our connection to travel the extent of my body. Self-conscious, I tried to better adjust the robe around me, hoping to hide more of my skin from his view.

It didn’t take a genius to see that he didn’t like that. 

Tom’s P.O.V.

Seeing Y/N wearing only a robe, not even a foot away from me, after only dealing with memories of her scent, was too much and yet everything I needed at that moment. I could smell her now. That vanilla body wash she always took with her wherever she’d go, lilies and wine. I guess she’d been drinking.

Maybe that’s why her lips were so red.

I wanted to lick it off of her, kiss her until she lost all the air in her lungs, bite her luscious lips until they were red for a completely different reason.

I subconsciously licked mine, eyes still fixated on her mouth before looking down to admire the skin that was available for me to look at.

She fixed her robe, trying to hide more from me.

I didn’t like that.

Before I could even realize what I was doing, I was pushing her inside the room, slamming the door behind us. To every step I gave in her direction, she gave one to distance her body from mine, but I was having none of it. I quickened my movements until I was able to wrap an arm around her lower back and pull her to me, my lips immediately finding hers.

It was like heaven and hell all at once. God, I knew I’d missed her taste, but having it in my lips again, being able to explore the inside of her mouth with my tongue brought me such a powerful exhilaration that I felt like my knees would buckle at any second. 

Still, I couldn’t separate myself from her. Not even when she tried to push me away, to end our kiss - no doubt struggling with the memories of that terrible night when we decided to call it quits. But I was done going through the same reel again and again. I didn’t want to remember her anymore. I wanted her right here, with me.

So I chased her away, making sure our lips stayed connected until she had nowhere to run anymore. Pressed up against the wall, I had all the control I’d been wanting over her now. So I deepened our kiss, burying one of my hands on her hair so I could force her head back to accept my eager tongue, and when I was finally able to do so, my other hand pulled on the string of her robe until it fell open and I had all of her body exposed to me. 

“Tom…” She managed to gasp as she struggled against my hold on her, but I was having none of it. 

“Shut up,” I warned her, already prying her lower lips open with my index and ring finger as I inserted my middle one on her weeping hole. “Fuck.” The chuckle that I gave held no humor, only a mocking tone that I hardly recognized as mine. “For someone who’s so resistant to my touch you sure are wet, sweetheart.”

Perhaps I was still angry at her. Maybe that’s why I felt this overwhelming need to be mean, to make sure that she did just what I wanted. Perhaps then she’d know how I’d felt ever since that night. 

She stopped struggling then, accepting my invasion of her space as I took her mouth on mine again, pressing her against the wall as I fucked her with a single finger, before adding another and another. 

I could feel her struggling to accept me, the thickness of the three digits stretching her open and I had to laugh. “I can see you haven’t been properly fucked since I was last inside this little pussy, huh?” I teased, and she only whined in response, moving her hips to thrust back against my hand. “Gotta prepare you, love…” Kissing her, I made sure to leave a few bruises on her neck when I left her lips, my fingers never stopping their movements inside of her. “Gotta make sure you’ll be able to accept my cock in here again.”

Maybe it was what I said, maybe it was the fact that I finally relented and started to rub on her clit with my thumb, but I had her cumming around me in seconds, making me grin darkly as I continued to fuck her through her orgasm.

“Such a dumb little baby, thinking you could leave me. Saying all of those things and leaving me to pick up the pieces of my heart. Well, let’s see how you speak now, with my cock in your mouth.”

I pushed her on her knees and immediately she was reaching out for my jeans, but I slapped her hands away. “You get what I give you, nothing more. Now sit back and wait for my cock like a good girl.”

The sight of her with her bottom lip sticking out, those cute puppy eyes appearing from under her eyelashes made my heart grow twice its size. How did I think I could live without her? How did she so easily give up on me, leaving me behind after one single fight?

The ambers of anger rose high again, and I grabbed her hair in my fist, pulling her to meet my erect member. “Suck it up, little whore.” I allowed her to do as she pleased for a little while, albeit keeping my grip on her hair, relishing in the feeling of her talented tongue and warm mouth. But the feeling of despair was still threatening to cut me open, and before long I pulled her away by her hair. 

“Open your mouth,” I barked. “Leave it open. I’m gonna fuck your face.” She didn’t fight as I pulled her on my dick until her lips were touching my navel, my cock hitting the back of her throat.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

It took every bit of concentration I had to control my urge to gag around his cock, but I knew by the way he looked down at me that it was a battle I was destined to fail. He wanted me to hurt. He needed to see the tears in my eyes as he constricted my need for air, and I could allow him this release.

Despite our break-up, I still trusted him with my life.

So I relaxed against him, allowing him to do as he wished as he guided my movements through his grip in my hair, and I found some new appreciation by the way I was a sputtering, whiny mess, tears and spit running on my face just like he wished to see.

“Fuck yes,” he groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure. “Take it. Take this fucking cock like the greedy little whore you are for me.” I couldn’t even find it in myself to care about the degrading nature of his comments, not when they were making me so wet I could feel it dripping down my thighs.

We’d never fucked like this before, but god, were we missing out. I was so aroused by our activities that I couldn’t wait anymore, I needed another release soon. So one of my hands ended up between my legs, while the other rested on one of his thighs, just for support.

At first, he was so wrapped up in the pleasure I was giving him that he didn’t even notice, but when I moaned around his cock after a particular tug in my hair that made my finger slip inside of myself, he opened his eyes to look down at me, finding me halfway through an orgasm already.

“You’re such a cockslut, aren’t you? Already gave you an orgasm, but the second my cock is in your mouth, you need another one.” I obviously couldn’t answer, but he didn’t really want a response, from the way he pulled his dick from between my lips with a pop before pulling me up by my hair and dragging me to bed.

“You’re not gonna cum if it’s not me giving you the pleasure, sweetheart.” It was the first time in the night he called me by one of the pet names he used when we were still dating, and even if the tone was still slightly colder and bossier than I was used to, I felt myself melting at the memories that it brought me, leaving me putty in his hands.

He was then free to easily manipulate my body how he saw fit, which was on my hands and knees, my head pushed down against the hotel’s mattress. “Fuck, I missed this ass,” he commented just before slapping me hard, making me yelp. The sound must have entertained him because he did it again and again until I was shaking from the ardor and dripping down on the bed from arousal.

And then he pushed into me, releasing one of those breathless little moans that I loved to hear and that I’d missed so much, and it felt like I’d blacked out for a second. Having him inside of me was everything I had been dreaming of for the last couple of weeks, and now that I was struggling to accept his thickness, it felt like the only thing in my mind was Tom, how Tom’s hands felt as he rubbed them all over my back before wrapping my hair around them again, the feeling of his thighs hitting the back of mine, the sound of his balls slapping my clit with each powerful thrust he gave. 

It was enough to have screaming out his name with zero regards for the other people on this hotel floor. “Fuck yes, baby, let them know who’s fucking you this good.” There was no way anyone staying close to us didn’t know, and I could only pray none of our co-stars would be around to tease us about it.

Suddenly, just when I was about to reach that peak again, he pulled out, easily manhandling me onto my bed as he held my ankles spread out for me. I moaned out loud when I felt him spit on my pussy before he pushed into me again, immediately getting back into the same rhythm as before.

“I want to see your face when you cum again,” he whispered hotly in my ear, making me whimper as I pulled him closer to me, my sensitive nipples rubbing against his chest. It didn’t take me long to get back to the same state as before, and the second he sucked on my earlobe, I came all around him, hearing him curse against my ear.

When I opened my eyes after calming down again, I realized he’d been waiting for me, predatory gaze glued on mine as he found a way to pound me even harder against the mattress, so roughly bumping against my uterus that it almost hurt.

“I’m gonna cum,” he suddenly announced, still looking deep into my eyes, and all of a sudden, I was shaken awake from my reverie by the realization that we’d been fucking raw this entire time. But before I could even come up with something to say about it, he beat me to it, adding, “I’m gonna cum inside of you. I’ll fuck a baby into you. This way you won’t be able to walk out on me ever again.”

Just as he oh-so-casually mentioned his plans for our future, I felt him spill into me for the first time, the warm feeling eliciting another small orgasm that left me trembling in his hands as he continued to softly thrust into me, like he didn’t want to leave and let any of his cum escape my pussy.

“I mean it,” he randomly interrupted my attempt to gather my breath, still panting himself, still very much nested inside of me. When I raised an eyebrow in question, he simply shook his head before leaning down to drop his body weight over mine, just like I’d been dreaming about. “I want you forever. I’m not letting you go again. Baby or no baby.”

Snorting, I hugged him to me, relishing on the smell of his cologne as I hid my face in the crook of his neck. “We still have a lot to talk about, Tom… but it’s safe to say that I feel the same way.”

[ramblesofajester]

whispers of a witch (chap1/?

this is just a self indulgent fic for me to write when I feel like shit and yes it will have nsfw

info: they/them, curvy body, glasses, anxiety.

The cool wind sweep past your cheek as you squat down, fingers numbing and turning blue from the constant foraging across the forest floor to fine the herbs you require, its late winter and you have just run out of several herbs you use quite frequently for personal use and when healing the villagers. of course as always there is a catch when you need to get something done. one, you where delivering a baby a good portion of the day, then doing your normal round with the villagers, so soon night is to fall, two the Lycians have been testing there luck with the village borders as of resent, three the only place those herbs are left growing are near Heisenberg's land due to you harvesting all the more accessible ones previously. and just to top it all of duke wouldn't be able to gather a shipment until the next new moon, that being two weeks away so here you are right before dusk cut plants with frozen fingers outside of a missive chain-link fence in the middle of the woods. Gazing around, you are in a small clearing, the village is about a mile, mile and a half to the south west of here. the factory's smoke stacks just visible over the tree line. Sighing you focus on the task at hand, slowly griping the base of the plant you say thanks to the earth and pull it up root and all, listening to the birds as there song slowly drifted thru the trees. standing up you, make your way over to the next bushel of plants emerging from the thin coat of snow. suddenly all the brides stop singing setting off of several alarms in your brain knowing its wasn't you who disturbed them wiping around, franticly looking you hear and see movement all around you just out of sight in the brush you cant tell what it is. assuming it to be Lycians or and angry bear or even a stray ghoul from the castle grounds. garbing the dagger from your boot you crouch down to an defensive position slowly making your way toward the path you came from. as you take a step back slowly a few Lycian emerge from the tree line teeth bared eyes holding a burning hunger. a soft gasp leaves your lips if there are this many you know more are soon to follow

"well shit, I couldn't just go and have an easy day now could I?" you ask the Lycians sarcastically not really expecting a reply. a deep chuckle caught you off guard and in your shock you hear the swift shifting of metal. the feeling of cold steel on your ankle stealing your attention from the fast change of gravity as you are hoisted into the air, dangling like a prized fish. attempting to regain your bearings. you look around seeing the Lycian pack now completely surrounding you.

"well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in," standing clear in the path arm outstretched to hold the chain around you feet taking a step further with every word.

"a lost little bunny, who is hoping around where they should not be..." he says in a little tune with mirth in his step. finally stopping right in front of you raising you so your face is level with his shoulders you reach out attempting to swipe at him with you dagger, as soon as you weapon is revealed is ripped from your grasp and now spinning around you and the lord. a large gloved hand grips your face forcing you to look at lord Heisenberg.

"now I cant tell if that was stupidity, or bravery little bunny but I'm guessing you dont know who I am." he speaks with amusement as he examines your face and, forces you to look at him. you stop squirming long enough to stare at the round shades perched on his nose. this being the first time you have seen the lord this close ,its usually only in passing or from the shadows as to not be noticed, but now you have to admit the stubble and scars, the cocky smile, the smell of oil, pine, smoke, and Tabaco is actually not that bad.

"No I know who you are, just really dont care cause I'm a little busy" you immediately wiggle from his grasp and start reaching for the chain around your ankles. a boisterous laughter is released from behind you and suddenly your falling about a meter, back connecting with the ground a large "oof" emanating from you. Rushing to get the chain from around you ankles it fly from your hands. jumping to your feet you face Heisenberg head held high

"oh... you do know me, so it must be stupidity, that must explain why your on my land as well" Heisenberg ponders aloud." so you must either be lost or have a death wish" he says with a chuckle

"nope not lost, just need some of the herbs here and if you live in this village and haven't runaway or offed yourself you have a death wish" you reply flatly brushing the dirt of of yourself as you stand to gather your things. "now" you say turning back to him "my dragger if you'd please" extending you hand cautiously with and expectants look.

"wow, you've got some balls on you" puffing on his cigar "you better watch that attituded bunny" you are suddenly painfully aware of the small pack of hunger Lycian circling you both "and remember who the man in control is" hand still outstretched you snap back with

"listen hear 'lord Heisenbitch' I am sorry for trespassing on you land but I need 7 different herbs and at least 5oz of each, I need them before tomorrow evening, some of them for mother Miranda, as well as a women who just gave birth in the village. Now unless you wish to explain to Miranda why her healer is missing, and her people dead due to illnesses I would like my dagger back and you and your fine fuzzy companions to kindly fuck of." you knew your words where dangerous but at this point in the evening you really didn't give a fling fuck and the shock on Heisenberg's face when he recognizes you almost made it worth it.

"Wait your Miranda's prized witch, oh man this is great, how have you lasted so long, your so small bunny" this just pissed you off more you want your dagger back but he's just so infuriating. your dont have time for this

"Fine, just keep the dagger" you say shoving past him. Growling at the Lycians blocking the path they stay there ground and growl back, only to glance behind you whimper, and slowly back away clearing the path. A chain roughly wraps around you waist spinning you around and pulling you flush against Heisenberg before returning to his trench coat pocket. blowing his smoke in your face he drawls

"wow wow wow, slow you roll peter cotton tail I ain't being stingy, I just wanna talk a little" as he says this he wraps his arm around you waist slipping your dagger back into its sheath leaving his hand to rest on the dip of your hip, the other griping your chin forcing you to look up at him

"Let. Me. Go!" you hiss out never braking your gaze of his glasses

"now what would Miranda think of this, her pet of the leash, not respecting or listening to your lord" he teases not lessening his grip at all

"I dont give a scraggly rats ass, just let me go you bastard!" you spit at him, resaving a chuckle as a reply .

"ohhh I like you bunny, you've got fight not a lot of that left hear any more. but I need something from you darling, so we are gonna take a little walk back to your place, your gonna help me, then ill help you with your little situation how does that sound there bunny?" spinning you around arm still securely on your waist, he starts to walk still puffing on his cigar, quickly you realize you have no choice in the matter. the Lycians slow start to follow you keeping there distance at about 3 meters back this continues for a wile and it might have even been pleasant having company for once on the walk, you if you ignore the hungry Lycians and the fear Heisenberg will get angry or be done with his little game. slowly the forest edge and the village come in to the distances well as a small well worn foot path leading into a thick pine forest near the base of the Benevento valley

"so bunny, which way is it" Heisenberg ask moving his arm up to rest on your shoulders using the other to jester at the path ways.

"This way" you mumble out, gesturing to the pine foot path. now moving forward on you own accord tiered of being user around like a lost child. you dont make it very far seeing as soon as you start to move away he tightens his grip

"ohh come on bunny, no need to get cold feet. your getting something good out of this too, you just chill a little there thumper" he says smirk never leaving his face.

"well it sure as hell dont feel like it, this feels more like a kidnaping only we are headed to my own dwelling" you watch as the pine trees grow thicker with every passing second drawing closer to your burrow. soon a large moon gate covered in rosemary and lavender comes into a view just beyond it several greenhouses small and large soft light emanating from a few

"Now hold up thumper if you have all of these, what were you doing traipsing around by my factory? you weren't trying to get my attention were you?" he jabs at you obviously trying to get a rise out of you.

"What I was looking for I do not grow because it is local and I had a store of some, but it a since been exhausted, lots of sick ones this season." you replied tiredly seeing as dusk has passed a wile ago and you had been called out well before day brake. now you where just too tired to deal with his shenanigans. continuing forward you approach the door and tap the center of the door with the old iron key handing from your neck three times then you insert it into the keyhole and twist it three times to the right and it slowly creeks open. rushing forwards in an attempt to put some distance between the two of you you start to tend to the fire stroking the coals and adding a few logs. while your bussing your self Heisenberg makes himself at home pulling out a chair and throwing his feet on top of the table and popping a new cigar between his lips . Turning to grab your tea pot you see this unfold waltzing over to him and slapping his feet of the table

"That is mahogany" as you say this he goes to protest " no 'lord' Heisenberg you in my domain now no feet on the table" you snatch the cigar from between his lip and toss it into the fireplace "and no smoking in the main room."

"alright, alright," he says holding his arms in the air "one you could have just put it out and handed it back thumper, and second of all watch who your talking to darlin" to this you quickly respond with

"Still dont care" he gives you grunt as a response

"third of all I still have yet to disclose the nature of my visit I need you to look at something for me" and with that he stands up his chest now centimeters from your nose he reaches for his hat and sunglasses setting them on the table, tossing his trench coat on to the chair. your face quickly turning a shade of red dark enough to rival the radishes out in garden as you realize just what he is doing. pulling of his shirt with a wince. Holding his shirt in his hands, you try not to make your gaze obvious, he slowly turns to reveal a large, deep laceration very poorly bandages and clearly in the throes of a terrible infection. you immediately push all other thoughts aside concern taking its place, you recognized this wound, you where present when he resaved it .

flashback

"you stupid man child, you know nothing you should just leave the talking to the adults like a good little boy"

"shut your dame hole you bitch"

they have been going at it for 37 minutes and counting Alcina said something Karl disagrees and so the back and forth begins about 5 minutes ago Karl brought out his hammer and been waving it out in the open. tensions have been rising and your a little worried it is about to get violent. Anggie who had been watching the argument from you lap starts to vibrate with joy sensing the approaching violence.

"ooooooooohhh its aaboutttttt tooo get goooooodddddd!!!" she sings while hoping off your lap to sit closer on donnas lap seeing as you are perched by the back wall behind Miranda. and just as you both had predicted disaster struck.

"you insolent fool." Alcina suddenly cry's, swiping her hand forward as Karl turns his back to her slashing from shoulder to hip. you immediately rush forward, only to be stopped by mother Miranda holding her arm in your path.

"ENOUGH, stop the foolishness NOW!" Miranda's voice ringing out clear through the entire hall "Heisenberg my son, stand," she demands. he slowly makes his way to his feet now facing mother Miranda "your actions have been stupid and reckless as punishment, I shall leave you with this burden to care for. maybe it will teach you how much effort it takes heal rather than destroy. and what if feels like to live with ones mistakes." you hand covers your mouth as you bite your tongue. you may not like Karl that much but he still is not as bad as they say.

end scene

"BY THE GODS, how has this not healed yet!? have you been rubbing dirt in it? I knew this was a stupid lesson. I knew I should have gone against that two faced, false goddess, pretensive ass, bitch and marched my happy ass to that factor. THAT WAS TWO WEEKS AGO, this should have been gone ages ago!!!" you shout while carefully examining the laceration. quickly you pull out the char he was previously siting on out, so he could sit on it with his back to the fire and lean on the back of the chair. grabbing Heisenberg's shoulders you gently shove him into the chair. rushing around you grab several herbs hanging from the ceiling in bundles. then over to the counter you produce a mortar and pestle along with several oils and extracts

"woooow, thumper slow down, slow down," he chides calmly garbing your shoulders, your arms still packed full of items. slowly he starts to set the items on the table. "now I didn't rub dirt in it, but there might be some oil, its not healed because I have no idea how to treat a wound this large. and what's this about Miranda being a bitch and ignoring orders?" as he says this you realized just how bad you have fucked up.

"OH MY GODS, I didn't mean a word of it lord Heisenberg I meant no disrespect please I am so sorry dont tell mother Miran-" you franticly bow keeping your eyes to the floor hoping he would ether spare you make you death quick. while he clearly doesn't like Miranda or her family he was still a part of it.

"hay hay hay thumper calm down your alright. I'm not gonna go all psycho on you, and your secret is safe with me, your not the only one with unsavory views on that bitch Miranda." your slowly look up at him in shock it is widely know that he disagree with the other lords but this is a first. you gingerly make your way over to the table and start to mix together several herbs and flowers. "and thumper just call me Karl" he says with a flirtatious grin, you blush but grinding the herbs into a powder

"only if you stop calling me thumper." slowly adding some drops of oils to the mixture making a thick green salve.

"well I gotta have something to call you bunny" he say grin stretching across his face as you blush even more now

"well my name is (Y/N) ok, now stop" you say while puffing up you cheek in a pout. rushing behind him so he can no longer see your face and you can apply the salve" this is going to sting" not give him tome to proses any thing you said you rip off the bandages and start to carefully apply the salve. a shout bubbles up in his throat the second the salve touches his shoulder

"SON OF A Bitch..." he snarls" maybe a little more warning next time y/n" as soon as he growls out your name you short circuit you hand no simply resting next to his wound "y/n... y/n" he waits a couple of seconds before trying again. "y/n!" jumping a little you come back to reality " you all good back there" Karl questions

"almost done just need to finish this up, then I will apply bandages, and all you need to do is rest for a day or two" as you Finnish saying this you reach for he bandages and gently begin to properly wrap the wound "this is how you properly wrap a wound Karl" you make sure to say first his name. "go all the way around and over and around the shoulder" slowly and carefully placing the bandages showing him the movements and positions. you move around to the front of lightly wrapping his shoulder "dont go to tight when bandaging joints, it increases mobility but not lose enough to move" as you speak solely focused on you task at hand you dont see Karl staring at your face, a look of adoration on his face which he is quick to drop once you turn to him. gently patting his shoulder "now all you need is a lot of rest and a hot meal" smiling you slowly make your way over to the fire removing the teapot and hanging a medium sized cauldron over the fire. turning kettle in hand you see Karl putting on his hat and going to pull his coat on having already put his shirt on

"well thumper its been wonderful but I have to get back to my-" you cut him off taking his coat and hanging it by the door.

"oh no you don't, you need rest and real food, and not to make any assumptions but I doubt you'll get any of those in your factory" as you say this you put the chair back in its normal position swiftly going to a small spare room on the side. grabbing a thick blanket you walk to the table, and drape it over the back of the chair. patting it flat you open your arms and jester to the chair "now please have a seat food will be done shortly" you say with a smile as he just stand there slack jawed at you attempting to boss him around. slowly he take a seat and just watches as you prepare a cup of tea for you both "hear this should help with the pain" you say handing him a large mug that still looked too small in his hand. you turn and head back to the counter and start dicing us vegetables and some fish to put the cauldron.

"thank you" he mumbles quietly watching you dance about the kitchen a soft smile on his face. "so what's your story? you obviously dont like Miranda so why stay and be her little pet healer on her beck and call." Karl jests wanting to know more about you now that he has the chance with out his stupid family there

"well a long time ago I has someone I had to look out for, they needed help I could not provide it, Miranda could. So I made a deal, help her, and ill do as wish. So I comply to keep her safe and happy, if it went for her, I would have sent that false deity to her flaming grave decades ago." you finished cutting the veggies and meat depositing it in the pot, you make your way opposite of Karl at the table and take a seat. slowly sipping your tea. "now I just tend to the villagers for Miranda and visit my belladonna"

"wait who is belladonna" he askes a look of confusion overtaking his features

"my apologies, I mean donna, before Miranda adopted her and gave her her gift she was a sad and lonely child with parents too ill to save, so after her parents passing, I watched over her and loved her as my own" you say a soft smile on your face looking around the room I was the only one she let touch Anggie, she was such a kind child asking so many questions behind closed doors and always eager to learn new skills" you reminisce the old days setting your now empty cup on the table. "but now she's grown and well, and happy, so that is all that matters" you say curtly standing and heading over the the bubbling pot of stew and giving it a stir.

"so wait your telling me you the witch who raised Benevento," Karl spouts astonishment clear in his voice. "One how are you not dead yet? Two that's why you spend so much time in that spooky ass house, and three how come you aren't an old hag you dont look a day over 25?" even in shock this man some how still manages to throw in a flirt. you give a small chuckle.

"well when I struck my deal with Miranda," you make you way over to a tall cabinet and withdraw two wooden bowls and a large ladle ." donna was just become a young adult, so she new what excepting Miranda's gift would entitle, including the prolonged life." returning to the stew and scooping a hefty serving into Karl's bowl and only filling your half way. "after her parents suicided she couldn't handle the loss another parental figure, her words not mine, she refused the treatment unless Miranda changed me as well." hanging the ladle on the wall and carefully turning back to Karl and making your way to him. "I had already had my go at life and helped as many as I could so I agreed not expecting to come out alive," you say calmly sitting down in the seat acres from Karl. "unfortunately my will was to strong so hear I am now, a fail experiment serving out my end of the deal" you give a sarcastic smile and do a little jazz hands as your story comes to a close. Karl is still for moment then burst into a deep laughter, but still alarmed at your willingness to except death.

"I'm sorry bunny I dont mean to be insensitive," he attempts to suppress his chuckles. "you are really the one that raised donna?"

"yes I am I know its a little hard to believe, but yes." you say solemnly feeling a little weird everyone who knew you too be donnas nanny have long since passed.

"no no no, there ain't nothing wrong with that darlin! In fact you did fucking awesome, out of all of us monsters she has the best manners and turned out the best." he says in a panicked tone, afraid he has said something wrong.

"Karl none of you are monsters, and your ok you didn't say anything wrong" you say quickly adding " none of you are monsters! you and the other were forced into the experiments, unlike donna and I. your only a monster when you subject an enter village to a false religion just to slaughter them for her experiments under the name of a sick false family she has not love for!" you say venom and hate for that hag dripping from each word. a stern but caring look on your face as you look rights in his eyes as you say this "you aren't a monster. you where a kid with out a choice, and now you are a man surviving and your doing amazing in your situation." you cautiously grab his hand resting in the table " you are not a monster no mater who has told you that including your self" He pulls back lightly but does not remove your hand from his., allowing you to rub his knuckles.

"but I-" he starts but you dont let him continue

"nope you cant convince me other wise, I'm the village crazy witch I am all knowing and wise." you say in a cherry tone, garbing his hand with both of yours. using one to tap out a small tune on the back of his hand. that nice deep laughter made an appearance again you have to admit its nice to hear him laugh instead of ague with everyone.

"well dame bunny, can't argue with that logic now can I " A large toothy grin takes over his face little crinkles show at the corners of his eyes. shaking his head he gives a chuckle then picks up the bowl of stew and finishing what was left in the bowl in a few gulps. setting the bowl down he asks "shit that hit the spot, can I just take you home with me and have you cook for me every night that some dame good stew" he jokes. laughing a little you finish your bowl, garbing his you stand and bring them to a bucket at the end of the sink.

"no I cant come home with you every day" rinsing the plates before setting them in the bucket you continue. "but you can come over when ever the lantern on the porch is light, if its not I am either in the village with a patient, or visiting donna or Miranda, or foraging. I am a busy witch Karl, just a warning." he chuckles

"ill make a note of that expect me often that shits good." he says pointing at the pot hanging over the small flames.

"well in that case ill put some in jars so you can take it with you when you leave tomorrow" you say off handedly while making your way over to the pot fishing the leftovers out, and putting it in two large mason jars. out of the corner of your eye you see him deflate a little when you when you mention his departure tomorrow. moving over to a wall of cupboard you store the two jars "to night you can take my bed or the cot in the guest room, though I dont know if you'll fit" you say walking over to said door and opening it reveling a small room with a vanity in the back left corner to the left of the door was a small sink and counter with a basin next to it. opposite to that was a small cabinet and in the back right corner a small wooden cot about half the side of the man now standing directly behind you in the doorway. so close, when he took a deep breath you could feel his shirt brush your, and his warm breath fans across your neck. now with bright red face you make you hastily make you way to the cabinet to the right of the door and start to grab a large quilt and a pillow or two. Karl enters the room looking around taking in the new environment and casually making his way over to the cot and taking a seat. you head over to him staring at the blanket hoping that he would not see your face

"thank you, y/n you really could've just sent my packing I really appreciate it I do" he says with a soft smile resting on his scared face, 'it suites him,' you think to your self 'he should smile more.'

"well hear you go this should be think enough it gets pretty chilly in hear and I haven't fixed the heater yet so if you need more there are some in the cabinet you say gesturing to the cabinet with your head. holding the blanket and pillow out for him to take he reaches hands grazing against yours as he takes them from your hands pulling them closer"

"thanks bunny I re-" he is abruptly cut short by a sharp wine of wood under duress followed quickly by a loud snap of the cot braking a the loud thud of Karl's ass hitting the floor. "OH FUCK" Karl was now the one looking up at you. slapping a hand over your mouth to suppress the laughter about to burst from you.

"OH by the gods, are you ok" you say still trying to hold back the onslaught of giggles offering a hand for him to take

"so this is what the weather is like down here" he says jokingly as you hoist him off the ground carful of his shoulder and back. gently slapping his chest

"I'm only a little shorter than you, ya know" you say "but in light of me needing to purchase a new cot from duke, I guess you'll be sleeping in my bed tonight." he gives you a flirty look

"dame thumper if you wanted me in your bed that bad all you had to do was ask not buries my ass first" he says with a deep chuckle.

"I am not tying to get you in my bed" you say panicked face exploding with red. "I wont even be in it with you, and secondly it wasn't that far of a drop so the only thing damage was you ego and my cot obviously. now come follow me please." you say now attempting to lead him out of the room. Karl looks at you as if he was trying to figure something but soon trailing behind you like a lost puppy. you lead him through the main room down a hallway with three doors heading to the furthest down you push open the heavy wooden door. letting Karl enter first you make your way to the bed garbing your favorite pillow and a thick blanket off the bed spread "well she's all yours" you say jokingly waving your arm over the bed as a invitation dont lay on your back or shoulder" you say making your way back to the door arms now full "sleep well." and with at you turn to leave only to be stopped by a hand on your shoulder.

"wait if I'm sleeping here and I just demolished your spare bed where will you be sleeping" he ask concern lacing his voice a he turn you around to face him

"well ill go clean up the old cot and then ill just use some spare blankets as a mattress for the night." you say with out a second thought.

"no no no, I will not let you do that you have done enough for me. I'll just go back to my factory and be out of your hair." your face scrunches up.

"you say that as if I am annoyed by you, but I can assure you, you do not annoy me. next I wont let you leave this hut you need to rest and I need to change those bandages as soon as you wake." you say no room for argument evident in your voice. "and if you have such an issue using my bed but I apologies its the only one, and I wont let you sleep on the floor with that wound." you with finality.

"then I guess well just have too share it. cues I will just jump through a window to go back home" he say with a laugh. you have no idea if he was joking or not. still, gazing up at his face the smirk remained "so" he asks "which will it be will you join me or and I gonna have to practice my long distance sprint." you sigh growing tired with every passing second your long day finally catching up too you. no longer having any energy to argue.

"fine" you huff out walking over to the bed where Karl was I like the right side" climbing in you take a body pillow from the back of the bed putting it in the middle " you better stay on your half of the bed old man" you say climbing back down from the bed and heading a dresser under a large window. you produce a pair of sleep thin pants and a large think white long sleeved shirt. "I need to change so ether steep out or just dont look." to tired to care at this point you look over your shoulder and see him turned away from you sitting on the left side of the bed. replacing your dirty clothe with fresh sleep pants and a oversized top. garbing a spare pair of large sleep pants and shirt before making your way back to the bed, flopping onto it comically ,while tossing the change of clothing on his side of the bed "hear you go, this should fit" he looks down at the articles of clothing.

"well thank you bunny," undoing his belt and changing his pant, completely ignoring the new shirt. "but uhhh I dont think that shirt is gonna work though" he says smirk evident in his voice.

"and why would that be-" you ask confusion clear on you face as you roll over to face him without thinking. face exploding in color as you freeze up, now staring at his bare chest brain loosing any train of thought.

"my eyes are up hear now bunny," he says with a deep chuckle "but please dont let me interrupt your staring. as for why I never sleep with one its confining" smirk never leaving his face, as he lays down on his half of the mattress. quickly you roll over

"I wasn't staring, I zoned out. Just toss the shirt on to the top of the dresser" he gives another chuckle but says nothing. pulling the thick comforter up to you chin due to the chill, reaching over you turn the knob on the lantern smothering the flame. "good night Karl sleep well" you say without a second thought closing your eyes slowly, reality fading out as you hear Karl

"goodnight thumper sleep well" a gentleness to his tone that sends the rest of the way to sleep.

word count: 5884

ps: please forgive my horrid grammar

[thotly-thoughts-101]

Unwanted Pining

Summary: Mykaelis North, a young trans man in the city, except its not the city he knows. It's New York from Sam Rami's Spider-Man movies. One of his favorite film franchises. The issue is, Mykaelis is from 2022, not 2002, which happens to be the year he was born. So now he's an adult in a time full of technology that he has no idea how to use, all while being the unfortunate recipient of affection. Working in Oscorp for a boss who takes an uncomfortable interest in him, and a friend who has become an unfortunately accurate conspiracy theorist. Kae however, has his heart set on his idol and guilty pleasure, Otto Octavius, who finds this unfortunate protagonist endearing and intelligent, yet incredibly dense. As always, shit can and will go wrong in this turn around romance, full of wit, humor, and Kae being awkward as all fuck.

Pairings?: Otto x Kae, Norman x Kae

Warnings: Language, drugs, fire, food/eating, mentions of death, night terrors, Norman is kinda creepy, conspiracies, tumblr is real here, fax machines.

A/n: Hiya! I'm the author of Unwanted pining, this is an 18+ story, as it covers some mature themes as the story progresses. Kaelis is a self insert and this fic is pure therapy for me while I navigate my life. Likes, reposts comments and asks are always appreciated, keep 'em appropriate and constructive, bullying and harassment will just get you blocked.

CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCING THE MODERN PROTAG. ITS ME, IM THE PROTAG

Multi universe traveling sucks ass, I know this. How? Well I’m not from this universe, superheroes aren’t real in my world, unless you look in movies or comic books. But this, this was a spiderman universe. Tobey Miguire, if I am thinking correctly. Which meant only one thing… Doctor Octopus, and the Green Goblin, if this was following No way home, they might still be alive. That or this is all before those events and none of the original events have happened yet.

I hummed while I ate my three dollar hot dog. Who knew that New York street food was so expensive? I sure as hell didn’t, I’m just some trans boy with dyed hair and no way to have a life, unless I got into the hero industry, or the villain industry. However, both occupations required more smarts and physical capabilities than I was able to produce. Maybe I could be a street performer, read poetry or something? It wasn’t my worst idea. But it certainly wasn’t my best.

I was disrupted from my thoughts by a harsh shove as some guy ran past me, making me drop my food, “Hey!” I shouted, hands up in frustration, “What the fuck man?!”

He didn’t even respond, but people kept running past me. Scowling I turned around to see whatever was causing such a raucous. With a dim expression that could have only radiated boredom, I watched a glowing copper ball roll to my feet. Internally, I was thrilled, an opportunity to live out my protestor dreams. I picked up the pumpkin bomb and threw it into the air with all the aggression a wimpy looking person like me could. By that I meant, that bitch was gone, it was just in the air, and it exploded, to no effect, as no people, or goblins, for that matter, were within the blast range.

I, however, was left to face a hovering Goblin, and Spider-man, staring at me. “What?” I asked, still pretty pissed that I no longer had any more food, but I feigned innocence, “I’d always wanted to do that, who was I to ignore the impulse to yeet?”

“Yeet?” Spiderman responded, “That’s a new one.”

“What exactly does it mean to yeet?” Goblin asked, tilting his oversized helmet in a way that really only reminded me of a puppy.

“You know, to throw something really fast,” I smiled, it definitely looked forced, “There is Kobe, for accuracy and yeet for speed, and to take something really fast is yoink.” I was elaborating too much, wasn’t I? But at least I had halted the fighting for a time to explain a universal and time difference, I guess.

Spider-man seemed to perk up at the word yoink, “I know that last one!” He paused, “but that doesn’t explain why you threw a pumpkin bomb in the air.”

I blinked, a little bit faster than I intended, “I wasn’t just…you know, going to let it kill me.”

“So you threw it?” The Goblin’s voice sounded more like Norman Osborn by now, maybe I had defused the fight with my other universal slang and trauma response, “Are you insane?”

Oh my gods, was he aware how ironic that was?

I shook my head, “I just wanted to live out that one fantasy from seeing riots on TV.”

And at that I ran, using what little ability I had left over from cross country and my idiodic desire to climb stuff to join the swarm of people watching from a distance. I watched the two masked beings stare at each other before the Green Goblin flew off, presumably to go back to his big ass penthouse and let Norman rest off the confusion. Spider-Man however, webbed off in the other direction and the crowd disbursed, leaving me standing in the street.

Maybe I could try out that hero shit. But first, to find out if I had been swapped out, and if I even existed.

—

Though some weird fanfic trope bullshit, I had apparently been a missing person for like, three years. They did let me collect the reward, which was a bonus, but I did have to explain the whole transgender thing to my parents, who were still married, which I don’t recall them being married, but whatever, healthy marriage pog? I think they were only accepting because they were thrilled to have their kid back, I did choose to stay in New York though.

Why did I do that?

One, I kinda liked the danger, and who was I kidding, in my own universe I was probably going to seek out the son of a mob boss or some shit like that.

(haha… you know who you are)

But job opportunities were booming in the city, during normal hours I worked as a receptionist for Oscorp, to keep an eye on the action, of course. And off hours, I went about salvaging junk parts and roadkill. It was a good life for me and my ever growing cluster of plants that were taking up my single room apartment.

Norman Osborn never died, which means this was the NO WAY HOME ark, where everyone got cured of whatever made them into who they are.

I mainly found myself keeping alone, knowing that either way, Doc Ock was still bound to die. He was my favorite from the movies, and his redemption arc was so important to me.

Years passed, and the doctor did die, his fusion reactor going down with him in the ocean. As one does when they are in mourning, I dressed in my most work appropriate Victorian dandy clothes. I really had no shame in showing how I mourned. It had been roughly three years since I had been thrown into this universe, and I wasn’t about to just change my whole lifestyle.

Today was no different, save for the fact that I was now standing in the elevator to see the man in charge. I adjusted my vest, fully expecting to be reprimanded for my choice in dress for a work day. Rather, I was greeted by the much older man with a smile.

“Mr. North, thank you for coming in today,” he shook my hand with a strange sort of energy, “come in, have a seat, coffee?”

I found myself sitting in Norman Osborn’s office, shaking my head politely, “No thank you sir… you wanted to speak to me?”

He nodded, donning a serious expression as he sat down, “Yes, Mykaelis, I had noticed you taking a special interest in Dr. Octavius’s work and his…accident, no?”

I nodded, “Yes, well, I can explain sir, Dr. Octavius presented a fascinating case on the subject of clean energy and his work with the actuators could be used– if to a less extreme degree– to help amputees or those who need physical aid to overcome obstacles that exist in an ableist society… I was just curious, if anything.”

I could feel his gaze on me as he spoke, “I see,” he paused, “Well, I would like to offer you a new position, if you are interested.”

“That depends on the job, sir.”

“You would be archiving Dr. Octavius’s items, from his abandoned workshop in the harbor, his office, the police, and his home, you would be housing and cataloging them in what used to be his research office in Oscorps main building, here.”

I thought about it, I swear I did, but I only had one question, “What’s the pay?”

Norman laughed, well, it was more of a cackle, “of course, you would be paid by the hour until I know if I would like to keep you as an archivist, but how does $45 an hour sound?”

And here I was thinking he would be skimping on me, “That sounds like a deal to me Mr. Osborn.”

“You can just call me Norman,” He slid the official document to me, “sign here, and if anyone gives you trouble, send them to me.”

I grazed the documents before signing my life away to salvage the remains of the life of a man I only knew through film, “Of course sir.”

[i-need-air]

bruh i almost really only if you’re okay with it wanna part 2 of kiri’s but like it has a married life and kids because dog hybrid kiri with kids or normal puppies too just sound adorable

That sounds so cute so I decided to mix both things. Here you have Kiri with doggos and kiddies 🥺💕

In here reader can get pregnant and ig goes by "mommy", I wanted to make it like this bc imagine smol lil kirishimas running around with smol black tails and wiggly ears and;;;; I'm soft—

Word count: 1.4k

[ Main Hybrid!Kirishima HCs ] [ Masterlist ]

× since we've established he starts as a dog trainer, expect to have doggos around the house all the time

× but it takes some good months for him to ever consider adopting one with you

× he's really aware of both of your financial situation so he'd need his business to boom before considering it, and maybe renting a bigger apartment

× what was good was that his internet fame got him sponsors and extra-cash

× whenever the time comes to consider it and talk it with you, he'd sit you down and mutter a cute "I was thinking—" while he's cuddling into your chest

× guess who's ready to do at the next shelter to adopt? Kiri is so eager to help another life 🥺

× adopts a big pitbull that's the sweetest thing in reality and in a few days he takes the doggo with him at work

× seriously loves seeing you cuddling big soft furry baby but gets jealous playfully; dog's in your lap? lifts you both up and now you're all in his lap, don't question it

× calls it Dynamo or something, saying he wants to honor his friend that he still had to find 🥺🥺🥺

× they're inseparable and look so intimidating together ajdjkejs until he smiles brightly and dog starts jumping around happy to exist; they both wiggle their tails and i swear just the cutest ever omg

× now before he considers children [ daydreams about it around 2 hours a day but sure ] he wants to be able to give you more

× saves up for a promise ring a few months in the relationship

× "My heart will forever be yours and someday I want to officially be able to call you mine" manly speech but he's tearing up while he puts it on your ring finger

× marriage between species was still a dicey issue, although it was legal some people still protested about it daily

× still believed in your relationship and was willing to take whatever came your way

× wants to do it the right way because he's a firm believer you deserve the best and wants to give it to you

× you did have to have a very small wedding but it did not matter to him and hopefully to you either

× KIDDIES!!!! skfjsljdhs I'm melting bc

× you guys planned it, right? it had to be a good time for both of you and had to have space for a smol little pack

× yeah, he calls it a pack; it seems it comes from his old days where his closest friends called themselves that and he now wants his own

× when you're settled and surprise him with the news???? falls on his knees, puts his forehead on your belly and sighs, taking his shaky hands to place them there too

× it's happening, it really is

× both him and Dynamo get very protective of you

× they've always been but it's as if the dog actually feels his owner on the edge protecting his mate

× from the day you've told him you're expecting he's gonna carry you around

× i mean, he likes to do it, leave him have it

× but he's fucking embarrassing as hell; once your belly starts getting bigger and let's say you find each other on the street, he's gonna pick you up bridal style and walk you home

× all the neighborhood simps for you both

× [ unrelated but everyone has a crush on him and are jealous of u, i don't make the rules ]

× doesn't matter if you scold him all flustered bc he's just going to laugh wholeheartedly and say some cheesy stuff like "It's just that I'm too happy right now" and he makes you shut up and boil of embarrassment

× oh my god; he puts his head on your belly and listens to two heartbeats [ has very good hearing ] and gets soft as fuck

× when the bundle of happiness arrives he's crying

× like he cries cries

× holds the baby and cries

× baby cries and he cries

× you're washing the baby and he observes the scene, crying

× absolutely adores both of you

× hear me out; smoll bby has an even smoler tail

× that they wiggle whenever they see their momma or dadda...

× yeah, from the first few weeks baby does that and it kills you

× [ imagine: ] it's 3 A.M., baby woke you two up crying and he kisses your forehead, urging you to go back to sleep; he goes to the baby's room and picks em up softly, holding them close to his chest and singing a sweet lullaby in his deep raspy voice, just above a whisper; Dynamo is a self-proclaimed bodyguard so the dog is always by the baby's door... you get up to see what's taking him so long and he's just sitting on the armchair in the room, kissing your baby's forehead tenderly...

× i really love the idea of Kiri having a daughter just because he'd be such a great dad; pick cute clothes, do her hair, play with her, have tea-parties; 🥺 strong big man with cute daughter? 💘💖💘💖💘

× gets so soft for his pup; calls your kid a pup; pup responds with wiggly tail

× she starts learning the puppy eyes from his dad and now, for sure, it's the death of you

× you're gone now, one of those looks and you can't argue anything and give in

× i feel he'd post about his family online and that's when his following would just explode, basically turning him into an advocate for hybrid lives and showing the world they're not different from normal humans; still keeps his privacy cuz people are mean mfs sometimes

× can we just accept the fact that they're both a mess? loud, clumsy and sunshine-y?

× her first words are Mamma and he instantly jumps in her face to ask "Hey, what aBOUT DADDY?!?!?!?"

× will get out of his way to make his smol sunshine giggle and her adorable cute laughs are his life juice

× gets energy to eat the world afterwards

× has this exagerated way of talking just to entertain the baby; even mundane things like: gasps —and I— dramatic pause to look around —made a MILKSHAKE! throws his arms in the air, making bb giggle and clap

× ridiculous dad;

× places your daughter on Dynamo's back and makes it carry her around like a horse

× gives her a paper made sword and roars a battle cry

× adorable squeal-like roar in response from his daughter

× also will have her be on his shoulders if you guys walk anywhere, keeping her in place by holding her chubby legs secured

× dumb songs for everything while they walk; "We're going to the mall, WE'RE GONNA BUY IT ALL, WE WANT SOME CHICKEN NUGGETS AND MAYBE GET SOME MUFFINS"

× "No."

× insert puppy eyes

× "... fine..."

× "WE'RE GOING TO THE MALL—"

× will want more children; like i said, he wants his own pack

× is more than happy to adopt hybrids too; he knows specially the youngest ones are treated badly so if you can't have children, please consider it

× because he will love them with all his heart and he has so much love and care to give

× just think about how he'd be surrounded with two, three children, all trying to climb on him, one hanging on his beefy arm, another clawing his leg, one on his shoulders; such a sight~

× every time he sees his kids doing anything he watches them carefully then turns to you with love in his eyes

× "You make me the happiest man alive"

× you gave him a new life, such happiness he only dreamed about in his darkest days and is thankful every single day;

× sometimes forgets how incredibly amazing he is, yet your words help him

× if your children call him the best dad ever?

× beams

× brighter than the sun itself

× will give it all for your family

× now and forever

[legends-live-in-memories]

I Have Too Many Opinions. ep. 1

lmao. i got encouragement to post my opinions on fandom things and now i want to make a miniseries doing just that. so here i am. doing just that.

im putting it under the cut cuz this was 4 whole pages including the disclaimer. yes i put a disclaimer and i explain why.

Anyways, here is the first piece in what inevitably will become fandom info dump, this time on thomas astruc’s writing on miraculous ladybug. but only some of my opinions cuz we would be here all day otherwise.

So… a disclaimer before I begin… 

I do not hate Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir (yes i'm using their government name). I am quite a fan of the show actually despite its faults. I am also older than the intended audience but was obviously younger when the show first aired which is how my interest was piqued (the fact that its been 6 years and only 3 seasons says more about the show than me being a fan for that amount of time but also i never want to rush content creators cuz they're doing their best) and due to my age, there will be inherent bias in my approach of what i'm about to say as there is in EVERY opinion. The fact that it is an opinion should imply the presence of bias but most people tend to lack the critical thinking skills required to draw that conclusion ANYWAYS…

If I did hate the show I would not have this blog nor would I be even writing this because i tend to not give more than 2 seconds of thought to things i actively dislike (some of yall should give this a try) and i'm allowed to like things that are designed for an audience that i was originally a part of but grew out of. (I don't suddenly stop liking things because I'm older despite what many younger fans seem to believe about older audiences. I also don't need to be ‘allowed’ to do anything cuz i wasn't asking for permission anyways.)

This will not be character bashing, astruc bashing nor fandom bashing cuz, again, that would imply i hate any of those elements and if i did, i would not dedicate brainpower to them. Analyses and criticisms of media are fun and engaging and required if you wish to produce good enjoyable content. Now most of this should be already assumed and self-explanatory but people on the internet like to play morality roulette roll dice on purity culture and I rather have documentation that I am in fact not bullying fictional 14 year olds or a grown man. But alas, people get trigger happy whenever someone has less than 1000000% positive opinions on something they like and will throw out words they can't define (gaslight, baiting, toxic, problematic, gatekeep etc) in an attempt to defend their blind devotion, 

which is not needed, if you like something you never have to defend it, even if i don't like it. If you respond to anything I post saying you disagree with me, I will not argue with you. I won't debate back and forth and try to convince you that the things you like are wrong. Unless you are being absolutely tone deaf to what i'm saying, you wont get a negative reaction from me. So don't try to fish for a fight. Please. I got metaphorical hands for days and I'm mean, you don't want me hurting your feelings on the internet. Do yourself the favour. Difference of opinion is how we get diversification in media and is inherently a good thing. Now that that's out of the way, please don't ever let me have to say that again. I beg.

Now onto the fun stuff

I didn't know what I wanted as a first topic so my trusty internet friend @moonlitceleste suggested astruc’s writing… 

AND BOI do i got some opinions on ole tommy boi. Again I don't hate the dude. In fact, he has worked on a few shows that had defined my childhood, including but not limited to W.I.T.C.H. (all eps available on youtube for those interested, 2 seasons, general fun time all around).

So I don't think he’s scum of the earth but I do think his approach to writing mlb specifically has more misses than hits.

The first big miss is that he has no idea how to write 14 year old girls. At all. Almost every girl he has ever written feels like some terrible archetype built entirely for marketability and childish projection and pubescent self-insert (kind of). He has never been a 14 year old girl. I have. In fact when the show first aired, I WAS around the (assumed) age of the mlb characters. The behaviour he passes off as quirky or awkward or just the character’s genuine personality tend to perpetuate harmful stereotypes of teen girls found in the media and are never actually addressed as harmful. they just get swept under the rug. Marinette’s exuberant collage of teen heart throb model boi Adrien Agreste and her very painful almost fan worship she has of him (which flip flops like a paper sandal in the rain) being portrayed as a cute school girl crush uwu, Chloe being the y7 Regina George, Alya being the token best friend of colour with her ‘sassy’ personality (i want y'all to imagine me eyerolling so hard i bust a vessel in my eye), Kagami being the very damaging Perfect Asian Child stereotype. And before y'all get on your dusty soap box and defend going on about “BUT IT'S FOR CHILDREN”,,,, know this.

 i don’t give a solid fuck. 

Not one. 

Children arent stupid. Children are always going to remember the richy bitchy blonde who bullies the art kid, and the big kid, and the shy kid, and the non white kids, and was only nice to her equally rich white friend who she probably had a crush on or was only ever civil to her equally white lapdog. They're going to remember the half asian girl who was never allowed to actually be asian or the only black girl who existed solely as a soundboard for enabling bad habits or chastising the main character for the same habits she enables in the first place (boi aint THAT a topic for later). Like do i really need to explain that alya chastising marinette for taking max’s spot in gamer just to play with adrien rings absolutely hollow when she actively encourages her to sabotage the contest she’s in just so Kagami doesn't win?? Like I don't have to explain that right?? Again kids arent stupid and its quite something that Mari gets chastised for proving herself the best video game player regardless of her intentions just cuz it comes at the expense of max’s feelings/ego but is actively encouraged to sabotage not only kagami but herself by extension cuz kagami is ‘competition.’ Adrien is not a trophy to be won. And no I don't expect 14 yrs old to be perfect and to always make good decisions but these decisions are never addressed as being bad decisions. they get swept under the rug cuz those decisions were necessary for the ‘plot’ but astruc can barely keep characterization consistent and his characters suffer for it and it's the same children you preach are watching it that suffer as well. Cuz guess what? I KNOW 14 yr olds aren't like that cuz i've been there done that (this is the last time i'm saying that i promise) so I know astruc is just metaphorically throwing darts to figure out who says and does what without consideration for pre established personalities to drive the stalemate plot along. The same kids you say are watching this don't know that that's not how preteens work and will absorb and internalize those dynamics like baking soda and vinegar. Cata-fucking-strophically. 

And I haven't even gotten to the boys yet. Which honestly doesn't require much explanation anyways cuz they suffer the same fate as the girls. Tired archetypes with nothing to give them life. Nino falls into Adrien’s person of colour token best friend who dates the female lead’s person of colour token best friend so they can have cute double dates uwu. Except the plot goes nowhere and we have no inclination of romantic development beyond moments that only act to actively convince me to anti ship the lovesquare (i don't want to do that so i self indulge in fanon that actually cares about the characters and plot. may i interest you in True Sight on AO3?). Max is the residential nerd but it doesn't matter (cuz he and everyone are dumbed down for the sake of ‘plot’), kim is the sports jock (which interestingly subverts the asian comedic relief stereotype but only barely) and luka is cute older guy ™ that wears black nail polish and is in a band. The point of all this is to say there is no depth in the characters. It's especially blatantly obvious with the characters astruc doesn't like (chloe). Again, it being a show for kids is not an excuse to be absolved of putting effort into the characters you make.

This is one of the biggest misses astruc has. I haven't even gone into all the nuances of this particular miss. And i havent gone into how that works against him in the plot either. Mostly because the plot itself hasn't gone anywhere and partially because I wanted to go into the plot (or lack thereof) separately as its own miss. 

AND BOI is it a miss. 

SO home boy astruc wanted to reap the benefits of a serial show with ‘engaging’ plot without putting in any of the work to make a linear storyline and relying on the episodic format for, again, marketability. You can't have the best of both worlds, you are not Avatar: The Last Airbender. Which btw has a lot less episodes and a desired end goal that didn't involve top dollar. Legend of Korra did but that's not the point and it had its failings with that too. I challenge you, tell me how many episodes actually contribute towards a plot point or introduce new thematic elements to the show? Can you name them? I can and I'm going to include the plot points that moved the story in some direction if only temporarily. Yes only temporarily for some of these and i will explain later. (if you're in the server you already saw this list *wink*)

25/26. Origins- self explanatory, the beginning of the story, 

24. Volpina- introduction of the grimoire and Master Fu (kind of) and no, Lila is not a plot point,

28. The Collector- proper introduction of Master Fu,

37. Sapotis- introduction of Rena Rouge,

41. Syren- introduction of new aquatic power ups,

44. Anansi- introduction of Carapace,

47. Frozer- introduction of new ice power ups,

48/49. Style Queen- introduction of Queen Bee,

51/52. Heroes’ Day- introduction of Mayura and mass akumatization,

66. Startrain- introduction of Pegasus,

67. Kwami Buster- Marinette wears multiple miraculouses,

68. Feast- backstory as to how the miraculouses were lost,

69. Ikari Gozen- introduction of Ryuko,

70. Timetagger- introduction of Bunnyx,

71. Party Crasher- introduction of Roi Singe and Viperion,

73. Chat Blanc- alternate timeline that essentially means nothing but got a reaction out of fans anyways (myself included)

 77/78. Love Eater/Battle of Miraculous- Marinette becomes guardian and other heroes lose their miraculous,

New York Special- other heroes exist and there is an American miraculous box,

That's 21 episodes. 21 out of a heaping 78 plus 2 specials. Everything else was just your typical akuma of the day episode and everything that happened outside that had no lasting consequences on the plot thanks to the miraculous status quo. Was it entertaining to watch Lila stir the plot of the class dynamic? Hell yeah. Too bad it meant nothing by the end of the episode cuz we were struck with miraculous status quo. She literally doesn't appear again until Heroes Day. that is from episodes 25 all the way to 51, she means nothing and yet she is treated with the severity of a b-villain/rival thing. She means nothing by the end of Volpina if I'm being honest. She is only relevant for 20 mins of episode time she’s in then it's back to magic status quo that undoes any shift in dynamics and relationships. It's like Spongebob who can't get his driver’s license. The worst part is I actually like Lila and I wish the story treated her with the seriousness we as an audience are expected to treat her with. Despite being painfully inconsequential by the end of each of the 3?? 4?? episodes she’s in, it's entertaining to watch a character create drama just because. 

Too bad it means nothing.

Astruc is constantly building up suspense to something ‘important’ only for it to not deliver and fans are constantly having the rug pulled out from under us. Oblivio teased us with a reveal only that gets undone cuz memory akuma. Chat Blanc teased us with romantic development but that gets undone cuz time travel bullshit. Feast introduced more miraculous lore and the history of the guardians but that means nothing by the next episode or ever (i'm not including any reference to the season 4 trailer cuz i've been around the block a few times and im familiar with this lil dancy dance). Heroes Day teased us with a possible future team of heroes but that gets undone in Battle of Miraculous cuz ????? why?? (here's why; astruc was having a jolly ole time letting us know how irredeemable Chloe is at the expense of shooting his own stagnant plot in the foot. Again, discussion for later.)

Too bad anything that slightly swerves off course from the akuma of the day gets undone or ignored. Too bad nothing has any lasting consequence. I mean, if anything did, the episodes would have had a consistent order and release schedule so im not scrambling to watch the leaked ep in Portuguese or something while the french dub is two episodes behind while the english version hasnt even been dubbed. I really wonder how he plans to conclude the show when he’s so afraid to step out of the corner he painted himself in.

Again, not going into nuances. If you want you can ask for more specifics (i doubt anyone would) but this is really just a slightly detailed general overview of my opinions on astruc’s writing. 

I was going to include another miss in his approach to this show but imma save that for another time. 

How’s that for a ‘first’ post?

[urdearestmom]

brain damage

i’m back again y’all and just wrote this piece... a bit of a scene study from that scene in 3x06. basically what i wish mike had said 

also the middle part is mostly conjecture but some of it is bits that you can hear in the actual scene if you strain your ears and ignore nancy and jonathan talking over it

also DISCLAIMER i do not hate max!! i really like her actually but she was really pissing me off with this whole bit because she just does not have any basis for understanding mileven's relationship and so her advice doesn't always directly apply. she had good intentions but BRUH. anyways i could go on a whole rant about max vs mike in season 3 but i'm not gonna do that right now lmao

It’s pretty silent in here, El thinks. It always is, but tonight it’s… strange. Almost as though it’s empty. Why can’t she find them? She’s been sitting in her room for the last half hour trying to locate any of the flayed and although she can’t see it, she knows there’s a growing mountain of bloody tissues next to her on the floor. She’s starting to think that she might need to give herself a break for a little bit.

Her friends are in the living room waiting for her, and she knows they’re all anxious to find out what she might see. So far, absolutely nothing. The only thing that happens is that every so often she hears a bit of a voice. It’s just there, tickling the edges of her consciousness, and she could tune into it if she wanted to… but she’s already identified it by the cadence of the noise as Mike’s voice, and she’d said she wouldn’t spy on him. She’d done it once and he was clearly upset by it. Although they aren’t really back to how they were before, El misses him more than she lets on, and she doesn’t want to make things worse by spying again.

Outside, Mike is getting close to yelling. He sincerely hopes El can’t hear him because he is once again fighting with her new best friend.

“It can’t be good for her to be in there for this long,” he exclaims, pacing in front of her door.

“Mike, you need to relax,” says Max, looking disdainfully at him.

“What if she gets brain damage or something?!”

“Oh shit,” interrupts Lucas, looking between them. “Is that like, a real thing?”

Max scoffs. “No, it’s not. He made it up. Mike doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about,” she adds, raising her eyebrows defiantly as if daring him to refute her.

“Oh, and you do?! ” He retorts. Her facial expression alone is pissing him off. It’s so self-righteous, as if she knows anything at all about him or how he thinks and feels.

“No,” she says quickly. “But I think El does. See, that’s the difference between you and me. You think you know everything!”

“I don’t know everything,” he fires back. His hands are balled into fists and he’s starting to shake. “But I know her.”

Max snorts. “You’re just mad she wants to be her own person. You can’t deal with other people not doing what you tell them to.”

“What do you think this is, Russia? I’m not some dictator, okay? I’m just trying to protect El!” He says angrily. This is getting more and more ridiculous by the second. Max doesn’t know the first thing about what he can or can’t deal with and acting like she does is striking his last nerve. Mike can feel the familiar boil of rage deep within him coming to a rise.

“The only person who knows anything about El’s powers is El,” says Max, with an air of finality.

Mike crosses his arms in an attempt to get himself in control of his emotions. “So if that’s true, what makes you think you have any more of a say than I do?”

She splutters for a moment and it’s so satisfying that Mike almost smirks, but it drops quickly when Max rises from her seat and stalks over to him.

“I don’t,” she seethes, poking him forcefully in the chest. “But she does, and you need to back off .”

“I’m not even on! ” He yells, throwing his arms up and pushing her away. He realizes his statement doesn’t actually make any sense but… whatever. At this point, it’s not like it matters. “She won’t listen to me! Because you put ideas in her head! You know she absorbs every new thing people tell her and you pressured her into dumping me!”

There it is. It’s out. It’s what he’s been thinking since it happened. He knew he’d messed up big-time by lying to El, but he never would have expected her to dump him over it. And the look on Max’s face as she stood by and watched had said everything he needed to know.

Max’s face is turning an alarming shade of pink and Mike thinks that he probably matches her. “I didn’t pressure her into anything, she decided! What is your problem with letting El decide things for herself?!”

“I don’t have a problem! At least I didn’t before you inserted yourself where you didn’t need to be!”

“All I did was give her choices!”

Mike takes a deep breath to retaliate, but then lets it go and turns away. “You don’t understand. Just- fucking leave me alone.”

Lucas is still staring at them; Mike can feel his friend’s eyes on his back. Why isn’t he agreeing? He was there when El- he knows what she can push herself to.

Max makes an angry noise. “Fine! It’s not my fault you can’t be wrong!” She walks toward Nancy and Jonathan and Mike follows, preparing to convince everyone else that this is a stupid idea. “Okay, can you guys settle an argument for us?”

Nancy looks hard at them, her eyes searching Mike quickly before flicking back to the girl next to him.

“Who do you think should decide El’s limits… Mike, or Eleven?”

He sees red. “The way that you framed that is such bullshit. ” Why is he the villain here?!

Her braids whip around her face as she turns to him. “It’s not bullshit, Mike, this is your whole problem! And it’s also precisely the reason why she dumped your ass!”

“El dumped you?” Nancy asks incredulously.

Mike throws his arms up again. “Yeah, because she’s conspiring against me! She’s corrupting her!”

“N- enlightening her!” Max throws back. “The fact is, she’s not yours. She’s her own person, fully capable of making her own decisions.”

“She’s risking her life for no reason!” He shouts.

“No reason?” Says Nancy. “Mike, the flayed are out there doing god knows what-”

“Killing, flaying,” interjects Lucas.

“Transforming into monsters,” adds Will.

Mike glares at them. Not helping.

“And El’s not stupid,” Nancy continues, shaking her head. “She knows her abilities better than any of us.”

“Exactly, thank you,” Max says victoriously. Mike closes his eyes. He cannot believe this is how this is going.

“And she is her own person-”

“Exactly!”

“With her own free will-”

“Exactly! El has saved the world twice and Mike still doesn’t trust her-”

At that he has to interrupt. There’s no way he’s letting Max flip this around. “You wanna talk about trust, really? After you made Eleven spy on us?!”

Max looks down, giving herself away.

Lucas stands up behind him. “Wait, what?”

Mike whirls to face him. “Oh, she didn’t tell you this?” He says sarcastically.

“No!”

“Your girlfriend used El’s powers to spy on us ,” he spits.

“No, no, no,” Max interjects. “I did not make her, it was her idea. And why are we even talking about this, seriously?”

“Yeah,” says Will. “Who cares?”

And now Mike’s annoyed at Will too. Will has no idea what is going on in Mike’s head and he’s not ever going to understand why he feels the way he does. Just the same as the rest of the Party will never really relate to Will’s struggles because they weren’t there, Will wasn’t there for theirs either. He didn’t see what she did-

“I care!” Says Lucas, and finally Mike is glad someone seems to be on his side. Thank God for small blessings.

“Yeah, I guess girlfriends don’t lie, they spy,” he says, turning back to Max at the last moment so she can truly see his ire.

“We were just joking around,” she defends.

“Would it have been so funny if I was taking a massive shit or something?” He asks.

She wrinkles her nose. “You weren’t!”

“But what if I was?!”

“Then gross!”

“Seriously, Mike?” Interrupts Nancy, and all of a sudden this has become like one of those moments where he just wants to strangle her for talking before he’s done. She does it all the fucking time and like, he guesses it’s probably part of being siblings but it leaves him fuming more often than not.

“I’m just trying to demonstrate how careless Max is with Eleven’s powers,” he says carefully. This is where he needs to get his point across. He desperately needs someone to understand that he’s not trying to be controlling or police what El does or doesn’t do, he’s just trying to save her from herself. He couldn’t do it the first time, but by God if he isn’t going to try now.

“Have any of you noticed Lucas is the only one not disagreeing with me?” He asks.

Max huffs. “Lucas doesn’t have anything to do with this. This is your prob-”

“Lucas has everything to do with this!” He roars. Mike has absolutely had it up to here with her and turns on her a final time, shaking again. “You weren’t there, Max! None of you were. Except Lucas. You don’t know what she’ll do..” His voice trembles.

Lucas seems to understand what he’s getting at and lays a hand on his shoulder. Mike flashes him a grateful look. He still has a hard time thinking about that night, much less talking about it. “She vaporized herself in front of us. I tried to stop her and she did it anyway.”

The room is silent now, the only sound being the TV static from El’s bedroom where she’s still holed up. Mike takes a breath.

“It’s not that I think El doesn’t know her limits,” he says. “I just know that she doesn’t care about them. She’ll die overexerting herself before she lets something hurt one of us.”

He looks up at everyone, Jonathan and Will looking oddly similarly out of place and Nancy with her eyes trained on his face as she listens. Max isn’t looking at him. Good , he thinks. Maybe that made her feel guilty.

“How would you feel if you knew firsthand El didn’t care about dying to save her friends, huh? Wouldn’t you be worried about her?” He directs this at Max specifically, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “You guys are treating her like some kind of machine, and she’s not a machine. I still have nightmares about that day all the time.”

The room stays silent, almost as though everyone is holding a breath and waiting for him to start yelling again, but he’s not going to. He doesn’t have any energy left to expound on this topic. If Max wants to keep making him the bad guy, then whatever. He has more important things to worry about.

“I just-” He starts and stops, wondering if this is the right thing to say. “I don’t want her to die looking for the flayed when they’ve obviously vanished off the face of the Earth, so we can we please just come up with another plan because I love her and I can’t lose her again.”

Now it’s almost as though all the air has actually been sucked out of the room. Maybe this wasn’t the right time to reveal the depth of his feelings, but Mike really didn’t know what else he could say that could possibly make them understand his position. Lucas’ hand on his shoulder squeezes for a quick second and then lightly taps him as Lucas moves his arm back.

Nancy shakes her head. “I get that you don’t want her to hurt herself, Mike, but she’s already in there. There’s not much else we can do.”

“What’s going on?”

Everyone whips around to face El coming out of her bedroom doorway. Holy shit, did she hear what he said? Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit-

“Nothing. Nothing!” He says quickly.

“Just… family discussion,” adds Lucas from behind him. Mike can feel the smirk in his voice without even having to look at him.

“Oh,” says El, and suddenly Mike really wants to hug her. But this isn’t the time. He looks away.

“I found him,” she continues.

“Found… who?” Nancy asks.

“Billy.”

[alirhi]

I can't believe I'm doing this lol...

I might throw up. I almost never post the stuff I write just for me. I'll occasionally send a funny chunk to a friend or whatever, but not open myself up to public scrutiny. I'm aware I've said all this before lol but bear with me, okay?

It's lazy writing (as is... literally all of my fanfiction XD) but I feel like it's coming out fairly decent for what it is, so I thought I'd share a little bit. If you hate it or aren't interested, just ignore it, 'kay? if for some reason you don't hate it, lmk. there's more

Pairing: Sebastian Stan/author (hey, can't say you weren't warned. yes, it's self-insert) Warnings: 18+. I will always mark my writing 18+ even if it never gets explicit. Adult themes, smut is mentioned (but no, not explicit), Seb does something dumb and OOC for him but it served my purpose so whatever XD

After arriving in Manhattan - and eventually finding a place to park; fuck, she hated New York! - she'd ducked into a Starbucks to collect herself and psych herself up a bit. Instead, she was psyching herself out. This was the dumbest, craziest idea she'd ever had, in a thirty-plus-year string of dumb and crazy ideas. This was never going to work. She was never even going to find him! There were millions of people crammed into this putrid petri dish of humanity. There was absolutely no chance she would-

For fuck's sake, was that really him?! Ever vigilant as a lone woman in unfamiliar surroundings, she'd taken a seat in the far corner of the shop, facing the front door. She wasn't looking for anyone in particular, not in here; she was simply making damn sure no one could come up behind her. Still, her position gave her a perfect view of most of the room, and especially the door. Her eyes widened as she watched a very familiar figure in a blue baseball cap enter and head for the counter.

As he neared, she got a clear look at his handsome face, and her heart felt like it suddenly stopped. Yep. That was him. Sebastian fucking Stan had just walked into this random-ass Starbucks she'd only come into to get out of the overwhelming bustle and noise of the city so she could think. She knew he lived somewhere in Manhattan, but wasn't Manhattan rather...large? It was certainly daunting to drive through; all of NYC was.

"Hey."

She flinched, blinking rapidly as she realized that not only had she been staring, but her eyes had dried out. "Hi."

Sebastian smiled, glanced around the busy shop, and asked somewhat tentatively, "Mind if I join you? Just til my coffee's ready."

Like she would say 'no' to anything this man asked of her! With a soft smile she hoped looked less nervous than she felt, she moved her bag off the other chair and gestured. "Of course. And you don't have to leave right away, unless you have somewhere to be. I don't bite." Jesus, that was smoother than she'd ever thought herself capable of! Where the fuck had that come from?!

His smile widened as he sat down, sharp blue eyes never leaving her face. She hoped she wasn't blushing. "Thanks. I don't actually have anywhere to be; I just got home."

"How was LA?" At his look of surprise, she flashed him a wry smile. "I can't just sit here and pretend not to know who you are. It feels creepy and manipulative."

Laughing and making her feel like her heart would burst with joy, Sebastian shrugged and nodded. "I appreciate that. And I really appreciate you treating me like a normal person."

"If you were a normal person," she teased, "I'd have told you to fuck off. I don't trust attractive men; they're usually narcissistic douche bags."

"I can't tell if you're calling me ugly or a douche bag."

She laughed, grateful for the playful glint in his eyes that showed her he wasn't actually offended. "Neither! I'm just saying, if I hadn't seen clips of you on youtube being all awkward and sweet, I'd be afraid to let you near me. You're way too gorgeous." With a wink that made him laugh, she added, "You're in your own separate category."

"So that's how you categorize all the men of the world?" He grinned, nudging her foot with his own. "Ugly, jerks, or awkward?"

"It's actually even more general than that. In my experience all humans are either ugly inside or ugly outside." Smile softening from mocking to a sort of wistful fondness, she told him, "From what you've shown the world, you're neither. Makes me wonder if you're even human sometimes."

"You caught me." Sebastian laughed again, joking even as he stood to get his coffee, "I'm an alien."

"So that's why you're so in love with space! Homesick?"

"Yeah, I guess so!" She loved how freely he laughed, and when he invited her to leave the crowded café and go for a walk with him, she readily agreed. "So what's your deep, dark secret?"

She blinked, staring at him. "What do you mean?"

His mischievous grin made her heart race and heat pool somewhere she didn't want to be thinking about with him standing right next to her. "You torture puppies, or are you an alien?"

He was calling her beautiful. The second she got the joke, she could feel her face turning bright red and she giggled, hastily looking away. "I definitely don't torture puppies."

"So you're an alien."

She could feel him looming over her as they both stopped and moved over to let other pedestrians move around them. Though she was afraid to, she forced herself to look up and was immediately entranced by those captivating blue eyes. "Maybe I'm a fairy."

"You're certainly pretty enough to be."

"Fucking hell, Sebastian, if you get any closer to me I will not be held responsible for what I do to you." She smirked, trying to lighten the mood and take the charge out of the air between them before she made too much of an ass out of herself. "Even with the coffee breath."

He laughed, but the tension didn't dissipate. If anything, the charge and the heat between them only increased. "Maybe you should put something else in my mouth, then."

Damn, this man could flirt! She accidentally knocked the hat off his head as she got a grip on that luscious dark hair and tugged him closer; he didn't seem to notice. He set his coffee down on a nearby window ledge. One hand cupping her jaw and the other grabbing her ass, he yanked her tight against him and thoroughly plundered her mouth with that long tongue she'd spent months fantasizing about. He did taste like coffee, which was a little off-putting - she'd bought a bottle of water in Starbucks; she hated coffee - but she didn't even care. The most perfect man in the universe was holding her tight and kissing her breathless, and she wasn't about to let anything ruin this moment.

Someone else ruined the moment when they cleared their throat. When she saw she had their attention, the fidgeting girl held Sebastian's cap out to him in a slightly shaking hand. "Sorry... Is this your hat?"

Finally realizing they were out in public in broad daylight, the pair sprang apart with awkward chuckles. Sebastian thanked the girl and crammed the fallen hat back onto his head, took a selfie with her when he realized she knew who he was, and sent her on her way. "That moment's gonna be all over the internet."

A nervous giggle bubbled up from her chest, somehow making it past where her pounding heart was lodged in her throat. "Hopefully just the selfie." His cynical scoff caught her off guard and she flinched, glancing around. "I hate that paparazzi shit. No one has any right to be taking pictures of you that you don't consent to and pose for, just like no one should be spreading details about you or your life that you didn't make public, yourself."

The look he gave her then was strange; almost as if he was calculating, or trying to read her. Unsure what that was all about, she simply looked right back at him, being as open as she could. Apparently reaching a decision, he told her softly, "I live like two blocks away."

That seemed random to her. She shrugged, offering him a slightly perplexed smile. "Okay...? That explains why you go to that Starbucks, I guess."

Sebastian laughed and hooked his arm around her waist, tugging her down the sidewalk. "You're adorable. And I'm trusting your adorable ass not to tell anyone."

...Oh. Eyes so wide they hurt, she stared up at him as he guided her down the street. He was taking her back to his place?! The more logical part of her brain was flabbergasted by the idea of this man just casually bringing a total stranger home, while the rest of her was just eager to get him behind closed doors and tear his clothes off. Obviously, the primitive, horny part of her brain won by a landslide, and she didn't say a word.

She noticed that Sebastian was chugging his iced coffee as they walked, and had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. He was going to have to pee so bad when they got to his apartment. Plus, she'd seen him hyped up on caffeine; it was hilarious.

"Make yourself comfortable," he told her as he closed the door behind them, already making a hasty beeline through the place. "I'll be right back."

Yup. She snickered as she settled on the edge of the couch. Straight to the bathroom. She tried not to fidget as she glanced around, but his apartment was just so sterile. Aside from the books on his desk, it didn't even look like anyone lived here, really. The blank white walls hurt her eyes and were starting to set off her anxiety; she dropped her gaze to the sofa and felt the tension ooze out of her muscles as her overactive brain took in the soothing dark gray color of it and slowly relaxed. At least he had a thing for dark furniture.

"You look so rigid all of a sudden."

She shrugged, glancing up at him. "I don't know what I'm doing here. I mean, I think I know why you brought me here, but..."

Oh gods, and there was that soft, kind smile she'd only ever seen in pictures. It, like the rest of him, was so much more beautiful in person. "Having second thoughts?"

More like first thoughts. "Aren't you? You don't know me; literally the only thing you know about me is that I know you're famous."

"And that you're a cynical introvert," he told her with a grin, settling on the couch beside her. "And that you're respectful of boundaries. That all seemed like a pretty good start to me. Hey-" He nudged her, making her smile. "Alien to fairy, I didn't bring you here to push you into anything. Pretty sure that would push me right into the douche bag category."

Giggling a little, she shook her head. "Nope. I'm too big a fan to ever think that about you. You can do no wrong in my eyes, alien."

"Hey, even aliens can make mistakes or do some fucked up shit. I mean, have you seen Independence Day?"

She laughed outright at that, poking his side. "Fair enough. But I somehow doubt that you're planning a genocide, so..."

"Nope." He shook his head, still grinning impishly. "No genocide on my calendar. Just hanging out with this beautiful, really cool fairy I met at a Starbucks today. Maybe satisfying her every carnal desire before she leaves, if she's up for it... Maybe just talking for a while or watching a movie. We'll see."

She could feel her face heating up again, but when Sebastian leaned in for a kiss, she eagerly let him. That was when it finally dawned on her that his mad dash for the bathroom had actually been to brush his teeth. He'd taken her coffee breath joke to heart and sucked his drink down so he could kiss her with minty fresh breath. Gods, he was so sweet it hurt!

That settled it in her mind; anxiety be damned. If he wanted it, there was no way this man wasn't getting laid. How many men would go this far out of their way to make a total stranger more comfortable when he shoved his tongue down her throat?

"What do you want," he whispered against her lips, stroking her hair, "my pretty red fairy?"

"All of it." She pulled him back with her as she stretched out on the couch, biting her lip when he automatically settled between her long legs. "Whatever you're willing to give."

"Tap out any time," he assured her as he reached under her dress, fingers dancing feather-light up her thigh. "I promise I won't be a dick about it."

"Same for you, gorgeous." With a slightly evil smirk, she rolled them over and straddled him, yanking her dress up and off. "I've been told I can be a little intense."

She squeaked before she could stop herself when he yanked her down with one strong hand on her back and drew a nipple into his mouth. She felt his tongue swirling against her flesh and shuddered, growing wetter by the second.

"I can handle it, princess." And then he was surging upright, and then to his feet, never releasing her from his grip. With her still clinging to him like a barnacle in nothing but her panties, he kissed her again and started heading toward the stairs. "But we're not fucking on my couch when there's a perfectly good bed right up there in the loft."

"Probably wise," she agreed with a giggle, tangling her fingers in his hair. "I'm already soaked. Wouldn't wanna ruin the infamous couch."

Sebastian groaned, but he was grinning. "Oh, don't bring him up now, girl!"

"Your couch is a dude?" She could tell he knew she was joking, but the glint in his eyes promised retribution if she didn't drop it... And then he dropped her like a sack of potatoes onto his bed, and she shrieked, startled.

From there, the day passed by in a blur. They cuddled and talked for hours, they paused once or twice for food, and, of course, they fucked like rabbits. She quickly learned that there was nothing Sebastian wasn't fucking amazing at. Typically, she was the quiet type in bed, but there were moments this talented bastard had her nearly screaming. The things this man could do with that tongue alone...!

But the moments she cherished were the quiet ones. When one or both of them needed a break and they would just lie there in each other's arms, and she could hear his pounding heart and knew he could feel hers. Once their breathing became less labored, they would begin to speak; voices low, as if afraid to shatter the silence and bring the outside world crashing down on them. They talked about everything and nothing, sharing past hurts never forgotten, and secret desires, dreams they were afraid to chase or simply knew were forever out of their reach. By the time night fell, she'd lost count of how many times one or both of them had broken and dissolved into tears in the other's embrace.

"You're so easy to talk to," he murmured once, the teary smile she couldn't see in the dark audible in his soft voice. "I know it's dumb, but I feel like I can trust you."

"You can," she was quick to assure him, kissing his jaw and loving the way his stubble rasped against her skin. "Nothing leaves this space, Sebastian. Anything you tell me stays right here. I promise."

He flinched then, as if suddenly remembering something, and nearly dislodged her. She settled herself more comfortably on his chest and waited. "You still haven't told me your name." They both laughed at that, and she felt a hot blush creeping up her face. Thank the gods it was dark. "I've just been calling you random pet names all day."

"Princess and Kitten were my favorites," she told him with a grin, licking his nipple. "But if you must know... My name is Ali."

"Ali." The way he said her name made her shiver, and then he was on her again and her last semi-coherent thought was holy shit, does this man ever run out of energy? Not that she was complaining.

In the end, they both fell asleep before she could even think about the long drive home ahead of her, much less the astronomical parking fee she'd be facing... or the reason she had actually come to New York in the first place.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

What Do We Have?

Based on the word: Onsra: n., the bittersweet feeling that occurs in those who know their love won't last.

What happens when what you have with someone isn't quite what you wanted it to be?

***No one has my permission to repost this fic, including translation***

Reader Insert, No specific gender, race, or sexuality!

Is lovers to friends a trope? Because, I think I want it to be a trope.

Enjoy my masterlist

____________________________________________

Calum’s not sure when he first noticed it. It might’ve been somewhere between all the nights sitting out in his backyard as you both sip from sweating glasses and all the afternoons at your place where you’d show him some recipe you wanted to try and he agreed to be sous chef. Some of those dishes turned out better than others. But somewhere in between all that, Calum knows. Call it a self-fulfilling prophecy or call it intuition. After making his mistakes, having his wild youth, Calum was ready to set his life on cruise control and take the bumps and lumps but enjoy the ride. 

It was different for you. He saw that. You took every opportunity by the horns and if it blew up in your face, there was hell to pay for it. Every blue was more vibrant. Every spark shined ten times brighter. Calum would be a liar if he said he didn’t like that. If that didn’t tickle his fancy to see the passion in you. But it made him ponder. It made him wonder would you leave at the first hitch. Would you cut ties when he had to go? That’s the inevitable truth. He would have to leave eventually, with touring and promotion. 

“You’re thinking too much.”

Calum looks to his left, where you are curled up with Duke on your lap. The afternoon sun is just cresting its peak. It’s warm out, a breeze blowing through the privacy shrubbery every so often that helps the both of you forget that sweat is pooling down your backs and on your foreheads. “It’s not a crime to think.”

“But it might be a crime to think too much.”

“And what do you suggest that I do instead hm?” You had come over, just to hang out. Your latest binge together on Netflix had been fully consumed. The two of you sat on Calum’s couch scrolling endlessly through the suggestions but there wasn’t anything that caught either of your eyes. That’s when you suggested just taking a dip in the pool, or at least just stepping outside for some fresh air. 

Now, you grow restless. Wanting to do something, go somewhere, see something, taste something new. It doesn’t really matter the specifics. “The new arcade place just opened up near the mall. We can go there.”

Calum nods. There’s no shock that he feels at your suggestion. He sees the twinkle even behind the way you bite down on your lower lip. There it is, the insatiable urge to take on something. “The least I can do is kick your ass in skee ball since you took today off.”

Fixing Calum with a glare, you stand, Duke safely tucked in your arms. “You’re on, Hood.” 

He watches you, feet silent over the concrete as you saunter back into the house. His fingertips don’t ache like they used too. He should’ve run after you, tickled your sides, or pinched your ass and made you laugh. But instead, he sits, watches you go and wonders if he’s actually going to beat you or not. He wonders if his skills can handle his own trash talk. It wouldn’t hurt his pride if his skills were lackluster. 

In the car, he lets you control the radio. You fiddle for a moment before your phone connects and softly through his speaker he hears an old school funky bassline. You watch the cut of Calum’s jaw and the way he reclines into the driver seat. The sight makes your chest warm but you wonder if Calum really wants to go to the arcade. You worry he’s only going because you want to go, because you can’t sit still. Would he ever grow tired of you? Would he ever try to tie you down, make you into something that you weren’t? 

It would wear him thin eventually, you figured. He had a much slower pace that he liked to consume life at. You chalk it up to the fact that he’s life can be so jammed packed for months if not a year at a time with touring that when he can get a moment to relax, he savors it like children and ice cream before dinner. You didn’t truly think he would try to make you into something you’re not. Though the thought and worry never fully escapes you. It seems like no one would ever fully escape their fears, just enough to let the delusion settle in. Everyone would escape just enough to let their hair down and not look over their shoulder at every moment, just every once and awhile. 

In bright red and pink neon lights, Arcadeocity blinks in front of them. Calum pulls into a parking spot. It’s not terribly business given it’s the middle of the week and the summer hasn’t officially hit just yet. “Ready to get your ass kicked?” he teases, one hand guiding the seatbelt as it slides back against the inner frame. 

“The question is are you ready to pay for drinks after I kick your ass?”

“I was born ready.”

Inside, it’s dim and there are some kids running about. But it’s quiet. Calum heads to the counter, gathering the quarters. You look over, seeing the racing games, the ones where you sit and the ones with the bikes. A machine goes off, lots of buzzing and high zings. You look over to see one of the machines lighting up, the conditioned response for any winner. Two small boys are cheering, arms raising above their heads as the machine spits out the tickets in return. 

There are tables off to the sides, for parents to sit, sip at their drinks and pray their children can keep occupied enough to not worry them for a small blimp of time. Though their gazes never leave their children for too long. One mother raises her hand, calling out the child’s name. “You’re going too far.”

“Oh, it’s not going to hurt them,” the father counters. “You remember the code right?” he calls outs. 

You spot the small child, dressed in blue overalls and high top sneakers. “I remember Dad.” They’re no older than eight or so, you figure. 

He waves them on. “Go head. Just make sure to check in after every game, alright?” 

The child nods, a grin on their face. “Thanks, Dad!” 

“Should we work our way up to the main event?” Calum asks, rejoining you now. His pockets jiggle a little. 

You turn your attention to him, thinking for the slightest moment that Calum would be that kind of dad, if he ever wanted to be. That would let his kid go and be free. But the second they needed him he’d swoop in. That’s what he did. Calum kind of swooped in it seemed to be his MO especially since that’s how the two of you met. You’d be lying if you said otherwise. You hadn’t even seen him in the aisle, preoccupied with trying to avoid the kids that had just cut the corner. You stumbled, managing to avoid them and right when you thought you’d wind up smacking into the shelves holding up rice and pasta, strong arms wound around your arm to keep your balance. 

“Racing game first?”

He nods. The dimness cut by the lights and glitz of the games, his eyes look like blackholes. Or maybe more like tunnels with a light at the end of them with the shiny reflection right in the middle of his pupil. 

Calum wins the first race and nearly beats you for third in the second race. As you both slip off the motorcycles, you collect the tickets from your machines. “I’m better with four wheels,” you laugh.

With a thumb over his shoulder, he grins. “I’ve got a pocket full of change. Prove it, sweets.”

You do. Pulling ahead of Calum in both races. You come in third while he comes in fifth in the first. You manage a dirty fourth place, leaving Calum in seventh. It shouldn’t have been fourth but somehow you landed on a shortcut that saved you from eighth up to fifth. It was a fight for fourth but you managed it as you downshifted into fifth gear in the game and took the straightaway with ease.  

“What the actual hell?” Calum laughs, after seeing you actually using the clutch and stick shift. “I didn’t think any of that actually mattered?”

“Dad taught me how to drive stick shift and now it’s just a habit now, I guess.” 

It’s with a click of his tongue that Calum nods but admits his defeat. The both of you are observing, wondering where to go next. He asks you, if there’s anything that interests you. You could spend hours here, playing every game in sight. But you let him choose. You let him set the pace. Maybe it’s in the hopes that you can keep hold onto Calum for just a little bit longer. “You wanted to come here. I’m sure you’re dying to play something,” he concedes. 

“Let’s shoot some hoops,” you suggest. 

“You don’t--you sure?” It’s a silent nod and a gentle grasp of his wrist before you lead him to the basketball hoops. You two don’t even need to make it a competition. Just for fun. Just something to laugh while you do, attempting to throw him off his rhythm by flattering but never being successful. In the end, you don’t read the red numbers at the screen, just take the tickets it does give you. 

“Skee ball?” he asks, folding his tickets. It seems to go on forever, the end hitting the floor and somehow crawling over it too just a little. 

“Sure. If you’re ready to cry of course.”

Calum’s ears are full of the sounds of the game, taunting them, praising them, lighting up and shouting at every ball that sinks into a hole. But right below that is your laughter, your shriek, “You’re supposed to let me win!”

He has no rebuttal, just a feeling. Something like amusement and a tiny bit of guilt. Like maybe he should be more mindful, like maybe he should be toying more carefully. But at the same time, his chest flutters, when you shove at his shoulder and let out an indignant squawk that turns up into a laugh. He won by 100 points. “Round two?”

“Of fucking course,” you huff. Calum drops the quarters into your upturn palm and you guys feed them into their slots simultaneously. He wins again. 75 points as the lead, which stings less, but still. “It’s just an off day,” you say. There’s a smirk on your face and you can accept the defeat but not without a little bit of stink about it. 

Over the course of an hour, you two play more games, stopping for a quick snack break. At the end, you go up to the counter first, Calum excusing himself for a moment to the restroom. There’s a small stuffed dog hanging on the second most top shelf. His ticket cost is high but after some successful rounds on the racetrack, you manage to squeak just enough to get him.  When Calum returns, you’re standing with your arms behind your back. “You hiding something.” It’s more of a question but it comes out factual. 

“Me? No, never.”

He laughs. At the counter, Calum looks over the possibilities. Part of him knows he should go the extravagant route. He’s done it before, with the stuffed animals and big ticket items. But he spies some alien trinkets instead and grabs two for you. He still has a stack left, so he grabs the small bean bag toy in the shape of a soccer ball. “You’ve still got quite the haul left,” the attendant states. 

“Save ‘em for the next kid.”

“If you’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. They’ll need them more than me.” Before Calum can reach you, you hold the stuff toy in front of your chest. “Very cute.”

“For you.” 

His brow twitches, pulling down like he can’t quite believe it. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” You urge him to take it and swallow down the urge to tell him he can give it to Duke. You want him to know it’s for him. No matter what. You did it for him. 

“Thank you.” Almost sheepishly he exchanges the stuffed toy for alien trinkets. One’s a keychain and you smile. “Perfect for the collection?”

“Of course.” It is perfect. It’s thoughtful. And part of you wants to kick yourself for not getting the inflatable soccer ball, or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Because clearly those are more Calum, those are more thoughtful than just a stuffed animal. Calum makes a show though, buckling the dog into the backseat, after shifting the towel that Duke usually rests on and maybe, it’s not such a bad gift after all. 

It’s in the car as Calum ponders aloud choices for dinner that you asked to be taken back to your place. You do have an early morning and Calum doesn’t think too much of it. It’s not until that gets back home and settles the stuffed dog onto his bed that he remembers the recipe the both of you were going to try. He had gone to the grocery store and everything. It feels wrong to try it without you. He can’t let it go to waste though. 

I’m going to drop you off a plate. That’s the text from him not even ten minutes after he drops you off. You remember all at once the dinner plans. How could you have forgotten that? Truth be told, you had fun. Arcadeocity scratched that itch to get out. But you didn’t want to intrude too much on Calum’s free time. Which, when the hell did that start being a concern? Calum was pretty direct and honest if he needed time to himself. 

Maybe it was just a time thing. You were starting to understand Calum more and even though he would be vocal about needing space, you knew how much he valued it. And you valued your own space too. Truth be told, you were starting to want more of it. Or maybe it was more time to do whatever by yourself. Or maybe the reason really didn’t matter because now, sitting on your own couch, you feel a little less like you’ve been stuffed into a box. 

Calum arrives at your door with a reusable bag full. “I just made the whole recipe and split it in half. You can take it into work tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” 

It’s a quick brush, his lips pressing into the flesh of your forehead. “Of course.” 

___________________

Of course that feeling comes back. When Calum calls and hears the rattle of music in the background, he knows you’re out. It’s the second weekend in a row you’ve walked out on the town. The second weekend in the row you’ve made those plans without really consulting Calum, just going. Not that you thought you’d be out again. But when your coworker mentioned wanting to go out, you didn’t want the opportunity to pass you by. Letting Calum didn’t quite cross your mind either. 

Part of Calum feels like he should be fighting more against that, fighting to maybe get more time. But he doesn’t. “Have fun. Let me know if you need a ride,” he says, unsure if he needs to shout to be heard over the receiver. 

“Okay, will do!” The call ends and he drops into his sofa. Part of him is relieved, strangely. He doesn’t have to worry about having to do something. He doesn’t have to muster up the energy. He had it. If you weren’t out and about, he wouldn’t have minded doing something but he’d rather sit at home. 

Was he wrong for that? Was it wrong to thank the high heavens you had already preoccupied yourself without him?  Was it wrong to know something wasn’t going to make it all the way to the end but just wanting to take the ride while it was still offered? He enjoys his time with you. He enjoys the laughs and the crazy adventures. But god, did he like doing nothing too. There was nothing wrong with that. Right?

His phone shakes again, later in the night with a text from you. Made it home safely. Am buzzed and I should never wear clothes with buttons ever again when drinking. 

He calls in response. “What happened with said buttons?”

“Fly was open,” you sigh in return, sinking into your own mattress. “Embarrassing.” His giggles cut through the slight fog of alcohol. “Don’t laugh.”

“Sorry, that’s a laughable offense, sweets.”

“Humph!” 

“Need me to come over?”

“Nah, not that drunk. Have-have you got no faith in me?”

“No, I have all the faith in you. Drink some water, okay?” You hum in your agreement, mumbling a good night to him. 

______________

“How long’s the tour?”

“Just shy of seven months. There are breaks, of course.”

You nod. “Of course.” They needed them for their own sanity and health. “I’ll watch Duke. You know I don’t mind.” He hasn’t asked. And Calum doesn’t really need to ask. You’ve always taken the chance to watch over the old man when Calum’s gone. You think you should’ve noticed Calum’s stubble before now. It’s not quite stubble really any more, on the cusp of being the start to a true beard. He usually doesn’t let it get this long. 

How long has it been? You’ve texted and called. But somehow in the catalog of your mind you can’t place the last time you saw him in person for longer than a few minutes. It doesn’t feel wrong, in the sense that you’re worried that things are falling apart. But it is strange. It’s almost like air between you--something that you know is there but can’t quite put a finger on it. It’s somehow distance but not distant. The strange new normal the two of you have created. And you want to be sad. It’s a strange guilt to see now more than ever what’s been expanding between the two of you, but not being upset that it’s happening. 

“I scheduled his appointments already,” Calum says, sliding a couple sheets of paper over to you. “Well, the major ones. I know your summer schedule’s a little different so I tried to keep that in mind too. Thanks again.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” 

Calum’s sure this will be the start of the end. And you are too. But that doesn’t stop you from messaging him just shy of three weeks from the start of the tour. Rehearsals are getting longer and more tiresome. His answers to text and calls are coming later in the night.  I’m dropping off a plate for you.  You send it on your lunch break, hoping that by the time you get off, Calum’s replied. 

And he has: Only if it’s not too much of a bother. Thankyou. 

It’s not long after returning home that you’re back in your car, Calum’s food resting on the floor to keep it from tipping over. At the gate, you worry it’ll take you too long to reach Calum to get inside, but thankfully, Luke and Michael are just ahead of you and let you in. The three of you wander back into the studio space. Michael explains at length the mechanics of a game to Luke. You’re not sure if he’s convincing the taller man, but Luke takes in each detail with a thoughtful face. 

“Please tell me you’re teaching any of this,” Luke teases, glancing at you.

“Dude, I’m just dropping off food. I’ve got nothing.” 

He laughs but agrees ultimately to give a test to Michael’s latest video game obsession. As the door to the space opens, you can’t help but let the soft smile crest your face at Calum’s stretched out figure on the floor. You’re not sure if he’s sleeping, but you know from experience if he gets too relaxed in any position anywhere he can and will fall asleep. “It would be such a shame,” you start, voice bouncing off the walls. Calum cracks a smile even though his eyes are still closed. “If this bowl of pad see ew just happened to take a bad stumble. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” he calls out from the floor. He’s slow to look up at you. But when he does, it’s a long gander. You’re still in your work clothes, though the shoes tell him you definitely did go home first. 

“Home cooked,” you offer, lifting the glass container and setting it on the table where Luke, Ashton, and Michael have gathered. 

“Really, thanks. It means a lot.” 

“Of course.”

Calum thinks about that phrase for long after you’re gone and long after he’s consumed the sweet and yet savory noodles. Like, of course--like you wouldn’t be doing anything else but helping him out majorly. Of course, you’d go from a crazy day at work to fixing him dinner. Like of course he shouldn’t have to worry constantly. Like of course this is normal. And it is normal, in some ways. But it’s not normal in others. It’s not normal, he thinks, to go weeks without seeing you and not feeling a super deep ache. There was the missing he felt when he wanted to see his mum, or his sister. But they had always kind of been away from him, ever since he moved out. Calum did miss you, but it never fully consumed him. Never made him mope, or be too down. Or maybe it was normal? Maybe it showed how much the two of you were secure with each other. 

____________________

Did you want to spend a few days together? Rehearsals are pretty much done. I know you’re still working though. 

Calum can’t seem to hit send. 

That last sentence is his out. It’s a way for you to say no without having to feel like an asshole. He knows that. He knows you’ll know that the second you read the text. But he can’t bring himself to delete it. 

With a swift kick of boldness, Calum taps the up arrow. The text lifts and then settles and Delivered sits right underneath the blue text in gray. It’s only an extra ten minutes from your place to work. I don’t mind. 

Most mornings, of the four that you spend with Calum right before the shuttle bus comes to get him, he whines as your alarm goes off. “You can spare five more minutes,” he mumbles into his pillow, one arm raised, not fully like the limbs much too heavy for his body to carry. And at this time in the morning, half past 6, it probably is too heavy to carry. 

“Only five,” you laugh before sliding back into bed, but not under the covers. 

Calum always curls back up into your side, arm thrown across your torso. “Can’t believe you’d leave this nice, warm bed.” 

He almost never mentions leaving him. He doesn't mention leaving you. It’s always the nice, warm bed you’d be leaving, that he’d be leaving. This nestle of comfort and known territory being the only thing tying the two of you together. 

You have to stop yourself from saying it’s just a bed. That any old bed can be nice and warm. Because it always could be any old bed that can be nice and warm. But do you want any old bed or do you want Calum’s? Do you want somebody else? Do you want to fly across skies? Or do you want Calum? 

“It is a nice, warm bed,” you say instead. It’s an agreement that whatever it is between you is nice. Though, you’re not convinced it’ll last. 

The first week of Calum on tour turns into a second. That second one turns into a third. And by the third week rolls around, the most your phone buzzes or chimes with anything related to Calum is a quick picture attached with a few lines about what’s going on in his world. You’re not even sure besides keeping him updated on Duke when you’ve talked about your life if you told Calum about the impromptu trip to Vegas. Or if you told him about your promotion at work. 

Somehow all of that just seems so mundane and so not the thing he’d care to hear about until he calls. It’s an early morning for you. “I see your end of the globe hasn’t gone up in flames yet.”

You shake your head with a tuft of laughter. “No, it’s still thriving. Just adjusting to this new job.”

“You quit your old one? Do you need anything to tide you over?”

“No, no, just a new position.” You almost start to say that you had to have told him. But if he’s asking, if he’s concerned, then you must have forgotten.

“Tell me about it.” 

“My job is not exciting,” you call out, grabbing your clothes from inside the closet. 

“Doesn’t matter. Bore me with the details.” You do. Enough so that, when you’re finally dressed and sitting down to eat breakfast, you can see him with his eyes drooping. “Bored him literally to sleep,” you laugh. 

“I am not asleep,” he responds with a sleepy mumble. 

“Sure you’re not.”

A month into the tour, Calum works it to have you flown out. Calum’s greet you in the car from the airport, the two of you laughing, falling into each other’s side, but ultimately always shifting back into place, resting into the back of the seat instead of each other. Calum’s not phased, not when you run ahead up to the historic hotel. He’s not phased when you run ahead of him at the museums are long the streets during your visit. But he knows it’s killing you. When the bands backstage, and you stare out of the windows, he knows it’s killing you not to get out there. Not to see the country, the cities, the people. 

“Tomorrow we can go adventuring,” he tells you, leaning up against the wall as you’ve curled yourself up into the window sill. 

“You’ve got another show tomorrow.”

He just winks at you, leaning forward to kiss the top of your head. And then he’s gone, back to the sofa, laughing as someone shows him something on their phone. The guys fall instantly back into their chaos. You watch, knowing you could fall into it too. You know their antics and their sense of humor. But yet, you sit in the window sill. You watch the birds fly pass. You watch people wander. You hear the slight cry of fans waiting for them and you know this isn’t really meant for you. 

This isn’t something that would saitatee you in the long run. 

You find out later after the show and he’s had a chance for a quick shower, that in the wee hours of the morning, just eeking pass one, Calum and you wander through nightlife. Arm in arm, you meander down streets, up city blocks, stopping at storefronts just to oogle over their displays. The skies are a little clearer. You can stop, leaning up against some random fence to watch the stars for a little it.

“It’s weird to think that I’m watching some stars last breathe. Like we’re so close, but so far away from the heavens. And they really just go on forever,” you whisper. 

Calum hums, sliding his hands into the pocket of the hoodie draped over your body. His fingers wrap around yours in the pocket. “But it’s almost like they are giving us their last wish, maybe. Giving us one last guiding light.”

 It’s almost four am when you find yourselves back at the front doors of the hotel. You’re laughing at Calum’s slurred speech due to drowsiness. He’s going to regret this in the morning maybe and you can only hope that there’s a pot of coffee big enough to help. His slumber is heavy next to you. Your brain is wired. You can feel it buzzing in your fingertips. How do you tell Calum that you don’t want to lose him but maybe the romanticism between the two of you isn’t there anymore? Was it ever really there to begin with?

With three days left on this trip, you don’t say anything at first. How do you even verbalize that? What are the right words? You don’t sleep that night either. When Calum reaches out for you, his arm feels like hot steel. Like it’s burning you for feeling any different. On the second night, you slip further into the seats in the back of the bus--there’s no stopping at a hotel this time--, your blanket pulled up to your chin, nothing plays on the TV in front of you. You know you can’t avoid him. Not at a time like this. But you’re still not sure if you can mention is just yet, if you have the nerves to do it. 

The door slides open and Calum is there, leaning against the faux frame and his body moves with ease at the jostle of the bus. “Mind if I pop a seat next to you?”

“Of course not.” It’s an automatic reply. And really you don’t mind. But you can tell by the way he nods, biting his lips and settles next to you but not into you that he’s aware of something too. But you’re aware now you can’t duck out of this conversation. There’s no turning back now. 

“You say ‘of course’ a lot, you know?”

“Something tells me that now isn’t the right time to say ‘of course, I know’ so I’ll refrain from using it.” 

His laughter is a quick exhalation, facing the blank screen too. “Are you--” he starts and then stops. He fiddles with his thumb nail for a second and then turns, bringing one leg up under the other and his hoodie cladded arm rests on the back of the sofa. “If it’s not--I’m not sure if our relationship is what it was before.”

You exhale. Your shoulders straighten under the blanket and you shift, sitting to face Calum more. There’s no sadness. Not even the clench of his jaw which he does when he’s trying to hold something back, when he doesn’t want to say what’s fully on his mind. “I-I don’t think so either.”

He gives a thoughtful nod, resting a hand on your leg, over the fuzzy black fabric. “And it’s not that I don’t have love for you. Nothing has happened, like nothing you did or said, or anything bad but.”

“It’s just different between us.”  Different doesn’t feel quite whole, so you unfurl finally from the mass and out of habit, pick at the fuzz on the end of his sleeves. “Well, more like, I’ve realized maybe what we wanted wasn’t what we needed? If that makes sense?”

“It makes sense.” Calum watches your fingers, pinching and rolling at the small balls of cotton. “I-I won’t mind if you stay or go. I’d like you to stay. There’s the museum you always wanted to go to in our next city, but if it’s too weird or anything, I totally understand.”

You shake your head, gaze lifting to his. He’s still chewing over his lip but he looks mostly calm. The nerves are obvious but this conversation is going better than you could’ve anticipated. “I don’t feel pressured to leave at all. I just, do you need space? If you need me to go, I’ll take the next flight out. You’ve got a job to do and I don’t want you to be in a weird headspace with me around. And I would hate--,”

He cuts you off with a squeeze of your hand. “You’re rambling. And no, I don’t want you to leave. I haven’t properly seen you in a few weeks. I still really enjoy your company. But it’s just, not like before, you know. Besides, you still owe drinks from when I kicked your ass in skee ball.”

His grin is small at first but it grows when you flap, releasing your hand from his hold and fold your arms across your chest. “The way I remember it, you would owe drinks if I beat you. Not that I owed drinks for losing.” 

When Calum giggles, you have to laugh. In all the previous breakups, you know laughing immediately after shouldn’t be happening. But everything’s different with Calum. All along the two of you were shifting, settling into the version of the bond you needed with each other, not necessarily the prescribed one from society, or the one that you wanted. 

“Would you be, like, upset if I took a separate bunk?” you asks. 

“Of course not,” Calum returns with a grin. 

Honestly, you feel relieved waking up the next day, for the most part. It should be awkward, but there’s something between you and Calum. There’s something you both get about each other that even in the face of change this bond doesn’t feel broken. It feels mended, finally and completely free too. No guilts, no second thoughts and what you should be doing or what you think Calum expects of you. 

It definitely carries a small sting. There’s no lying, a small bit of your routine and your normal is now gone and that worries you for when you go back home. Like, is it still acceptable that you steal his Santa Cruz hoodie? And when Calum catches your gaze from the otherside of the dressing room, he wonders if he can still kiss your forehead, still hold your hand? Or is that crossing the line? He airs on the side of caution for now, just smiles at you and you smile in return. 

Just before leaving, you fold his hoodie up, placing it on his bunk next to the not fully folded blanket that reveals his iPad. 

When Calum goes to his bunk he sees the hoodie. His heart drops, he won’t lie. When he picks it up, it feels heavy. Not physically, but he kinda wanted you to keep it. Something crinkles. He unfurls it. Nothing falls out but he can hear something. So he continues until he finds the hoodie pocket. 

I know, I know. I wanted to give you this back. Just for the moment. We’re still good like we said before. But I know it’s your favorite right behind the Empathy one. Kick ass on stage. Rock out. 

Calum smiles, neatly folding the note and slips into his bag that he takes into the venues. When the months slip by, show after show mildly interrupted with Duke updates and occasionally things about yourself, Calum finally finds himself able to sit on his own couch. Kick his feet up on his own coffee table. He’s able to decompress. He decompresses enough to fall asleep. A knock at the door jolts him awake. Wiping at the corner of his eyes and his mouth, he jumps from his couch. 

“You were totally asleep,” you grin when the door swings open. 

“Was not,” he retorts. Duke bars from below, jumping at Calum’s leg. “Oh, bubba. How are you?” 

“Good, just missed his pops.” 

Collecting Duke into his arms, Calum stands. “How are you? How’s life?”

“I’m good. Life’s good.” You lift the bag on your arm. “I brought you a plate. Or maybe like four.”

“You--you didn’t have to,” Calum returns. “But of course you did anyway.”

“Of course I did,” you laugh. “Mind if I come in? You can just love on Duke. I’ll reheat the spaghetti.”

He nods, allowing you inside. It’s much more than a plate as you unload the dish and a few other sides. It’s enough for him to eat dinner for a week almost. You always fixed more than he could ever eat. “How’s the move going?” The last time the two of you talked you mentioned needing a new place. Something a little bit bigger to accommodate your needs and the potential of housing your own dog or cat. You’re not entirely sure right now.  

“It’s going slow. But it’s going. Trying to sort out what to toss.”

“I can help, if you want.” Calum watches as you set the plate down in front of him. “Be the voice of reason when you know you really should toss the thing, but can’t do it without a nudge.”

“Or be the nagging voice that tells me to keep it. You know how this goes.”

Calum nods, setting Duke in the seat. “I know.”

“What are you doing? Sit. Eat.”

Two scoops of spaghetti or heaped onto a second plate. You manage to keep Duke away from Calum’s food. The plate hits the table with a muted thud. “If it���s not too much too soon, eat with me? ”

“Of course.” 

“There it is again,” he laughs. 

“What? I’ll leave. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Whoa, slow down. Eat. Then you can huff and puff and blow my house down.”

With a click of your tongue, fork posed in hand, you watch Calum return to his seat. Duke in his lap, just like you knew would happen. “That sounds like a good idea.”

[enigma-im]

Nothin’ But a Good Time

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Dremora (Demon) X Male!Human (Nord) Warning: Anal, Demon sex, Deals with a demon, Skyrim, blowjobs, handjobs

Word count: 2676

Summoning an unbound Dremora means that it can turn on you. This Dremora has a better idea than just killing the summoner.

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

'Summon an unbound Dremora' it was a difficult spell and a dangerous one at that. To conjure a Dremora was on its own, dangerous. To conjure one that you know will attack you is just plain stupid. Yet, desperate times call for desperate measures.

The dungeon wasn’t a challenge for a mage as talented as myself. It was almost comical to be tasked with a quest like this. The Skeevers die on sight, the Draugers are similar to practice dummies, the puzzles are elementary at best. I will be paid in no time at this rate. If only every mission was like this.

As I near the final room I learn that extending some modesty once in a while might be beneficial to me and my ego.

The room ends with a dragon priest instead of my anticipated Deathlord. I really should have kept my mouth shut but the new reward of a mask keeps my spirits high. I face the spirit with a new wave of optimism and cockiness until the graves give way to Draugers. This is fine, I can deal with that. Down the way towards the floating priest two more coffins give way to Deathlords, alright this is less ok.

The battle is full of loud explosions of fireballs and lightning strikes. The Draugers become more of a hassle as anytime I try to deal with them I have to take my attention from the three major threats in the cavern. I take to summoning familiars and Atronachs, drinking bottles after bottles of Magicka. I pick off bits of health from the Deathlords as I try to avoid hits from the priest. His magic staff is becoming too much a problem that I fear I may lose my life this day.

Carding around the edges of the room for the hundredth time I take a direct hit from the Dragon Priest's staff. I hit the ground harder than reasonable, sliding along the uneven cobble on my shoulder. I quickly attempt to stand but the room turns, I fall back with a heavy sigh. I see the low life Draugers come in for the kill. In a last-ditch effort, I cast one more summoning spell, conjuring the one being I swore I wouldn't.

In a swirl of black and purple, a Dremora is officially summoned. Without preamble, the dangerous demon snaps forward and fast. It takes on the Draugers quickly with inhuman strength and speed. As everyone is distracted I look through my bag for potions or food, knowing the unavoidable battle that will come to me.

I watch from the corner of my eye at the Deadra armored beast fights. It takes care of the undead creatures very well, finishing off a Deathlord in the time it took me to swallow down minor healing. Once I catch my bearings I stand and begin to loot through the dead bodies, begging to gods for a potion or two. When that, thing, is done it will turn its ire onto me. I must be prepared for the fight.

I don’t notice the silence for a moment as I reach for the minor magic potion at the bottom of a broken urn. It doesn't occur to me till I feel the dark presence behind me. With a quick breath, I turn and throw a bolt of ice at the demon. With a lazy effort, it pushes the ice off like it was a bug in the way.

"Generally people give thanks but I can't say I'm too familiar with Nord customs," the Dremora chuckles. I straight at his laugh, utterly confused. The being cocks a dark brow at me with a grin," You seem a lost for words."

"Aye," I eye him," just a bit of miscommunication."

His arms cross while changing weight to one leg," How so?" His demeanor is startling, to say the least. I have never interacted with demons before, well in a friendly manner at least. I've killed a few to use their hearts for potions, I'm no saint. The college generally warned against conversing with them unless you can have the upper hand.

"I was informed that this conjuring spell was to summon an unbound Dremora," I clarify.

"That I am," he tilts his head with an amused smirk," Do you believe I have no free will? That I will attack anything that breathes? I found the deal is far greater than the taste of freshly spilled blood."

I sober at his words," the deal?"

"Yes, the deal," he chuckles," you summon me, I protect you, now I get something in return. Give and take sort of thing." I eye him cautious, not open to making deals with conniving creatures like him.

"What kind of deal?"

"Hmm, not sure. I haven't decided on what I want yet, but I do have ideas," he answers in thought.

"What could you want," I slide my hand towards my dagger, cautious but not completely open to fighting just yet. The Dremora casts a glance to my hand then back up at me. His brow raises again but he either doesn’t care or doesn’t mind me reaching for my weapon. Arms still folded he begins to circle me, walking lazily around with his eyes wondering my body.

"What do I want," he taps his finger against his elbow," many things. The better question is what do I want that you can give me. You could be my slave, do my bidding here in the living realm. To kill who I demand, to retrieve what I desire. But I don’t need another one, I already have all the slaves I want. You could give me something I haven't reveled in for a while." he stops his circling and walks towards me. Panicked, I back up till I thump against a wall. Quickly he grabs my face and regards me in an appraising way. "You are very handsome for a mage, most are old and cynical. You are young and full of mirth, perhaps I shall partake just this once," he hums as his thumb brushes my cheek.

"W-What do you want," my resolve slips for a second. I'm not ignorant or oblivious, he wants something I myself haven't partaken in since starting college. Before the time of my studies, I took to parading around as many women as I could, drinking and partying with the liveliest of maidens. I have never been with a man, let alone a demon.

"Here is the deal, you take my seed and we call us even," his hold switches to my throat," if you don’t, then I take your blood as payment."

"You're seed," I ask confused," do you believe you could impregnate me?"

He scoffs," No you stupid man, I wish to spoil myself inside you. Once I do, then we are square. This acceptable, Nord?"

"Blood or cum, such an impossible choice," I roll my eyes," as long as you don’t rip me a new one I will reluctantly lay with you, demon."

"Reluctantly," the Dremora laughs," you caved very fast for someone who is reluctant."

"I'm not above my ego to rather die than fuck a man, just be fast and I can forget about it," I sneer.

"Like I'd give you the curtesy to forget," he chuckles darkly," but if you insist."

I startle when head leans down and captures my lips with his, wasting no time shoving his tongue down my throat. The intrusion sends a jolt down my spine, spurring my interest just a peek. A chill runs through the room and the rock bites into my skin. I shiver when I feel the hard grip of his hands on my uncovered hips.

"You seem to be less reluctant now," he whispers in my ear as his hips brush against mine. I look down at our now nude bodies, seeing my hardening cock against his thigh.

"Is but nerves," I scoff. He hums in an answer as he lowers onto his knees. Its almost a powerful sight to see such an evil being kneeling. The sight is even more uplifting when he grabs my half-hard dick in his hands, stroking me in a lose hold. His mouth joins in for a moment, my spine snapping straight as the electric feeling runs upwards. "damn, Dremora. Ever heard of pacing one's self," I ask as my hips buck. He chuckles around my cock, the vibrations feeling divine.

"You were the one who wanted fast, and I'm the one who didn’t want you to forget," he kisses along my shaft, palming my balls with an uncoy look. His attentions are not what I expected, the sight more arousing than anticipated. I watch him lather my member with his tongue, bucking and sighing with the feeling. I rest my head back to the wall, mouth parted in an unending breath. As I feel myself nearing my end he backs off.

"Don’t want you to end so soon my handsome Nord, now it's your turn to be on your knees," He laughs. I give him an unabashed face before doing as he says. I get down on my knees ready to return the favor. He confuses me by not standing but crawling around behind me. It seems he is ready for the main course. He grabs my shoulder and pushes me forward. I catch myself on my hands as his hand rests on my back.

His clawed fingers trail down my spine, my skin tingling with anticipation. I can feel the warmth of his cock resting at the crease of my ass. The tip nudging just barely between my cheeks. His palm slides over my lower back before trailing over and cupping my hips. He swiftly pulls me flush to his thighs, his cock gliding up and settling close to his stomach. The weight is similar to the one in my stomach, the suspense making my own cock twitch. He pushes me away then pulls me back to him again, enjoying the tension in the air.

I fall onto my forearms and buck back into him with a groan," Just put it in already!"

His deep chuckle echoes in the room," so eager aren't we? I thought this was supposed to be my payment."

I look over my shoulder at his wicked grin," what? Cant, we both get something out of this?"

"I suppose we can," he tilts his head. The Dremora says nothing else as he continues tracing his cock on my ass. Soon he grabs ahold of one of my cheeks, clenching the muscle between his fingers. He spreads me open and regards his new toy. I wait with bated breath as his other hand lazily trails down to rest his thumb over my pucker. My stomach clenches as I choke on a gasp, I guess the eagerness is getting to me. He chuckles as he presses his thumb to me, massaging before inserting. I let out a long groan and rest my head to the filthy floor. He lets himself just rest there, humming as he listens to my panting breath.

"Please," I find myself crying out, not sure what I'm asking for. He somehow figures it out as he removes his thumb and grabs ahold of his cock. He presses himself to my entrance, slowly pressing his tip inside. There is resistance but he pushes on. With a sudden pop, his head is engulfed. The image and the reality of someone being in my ass make my cock leak and a whine let out from my chest. Before I could beg some more he pushes in farther. His head sliding further inside, the unfamiliar feeling of something this far inside me is intoxicating. My anus being stretched isn't pleasant, it aches and stings. Still, my cock remains hard and drips pre to the floor. His length rubbing along my prostate makes the pain feel like nothing.

I relish every inch till his hips are finally flat with my ass. Once he is to the hilt I hear him breathe. He sucks in a greedy breath and grips my cheeks with a painful hold. I can feel my hips try to move, the urge to buck back into him is strong. God, what my guild would think of this. Hell! What would my church think of this?

"By the divines, you are the tightest hole I have ever had the pleasure of fucking," the Dremora calls out in wonder," I believe this will be sufficient payment indeed." before I can comment he pulls back then thrust forward with a sharp snap of his hips.

"ack-, fuck," I cry out. I rub my forehead along the ground, the bits of rock digging into my skin. I hardly notice them as he pulls out again and bucks forward. He finds a pace quickly, using me like some common whore. Seeking his own fulfillment as I whimper and cry in the dirt. His inhuman cock does wonders to my insides, his length hitting places I never knew existed. My cock bobs with each thrust, a string of pre falling to the ground make me groan. I find myself reaching under myself and gripping it. The mixture of him and my hand makes my brain feel fuzzy.

"Are you going to touch yourself, my little Nord," he chuckles above me," Love the feeling of my cock rearranging your insides?" I whimper like a dog as I stroke myself, twisting my hand over my tips then clenching my base. If I knew being fucked in the ass was so grand I would have done this sooner. I'm almost curious if being fucked by a Nord is the same as this? Perhaps a Dremora has better prowess with these kinds of things. Either way, it's hard to think, at the moment a Dremora is a way better lay than any of my past lovers.

"Faster," I cry as I buck back into him. He laughs, curling his fingers over my waist. He slides them down over my stomach, feeling my muscles flex with each push of his hips. His fingers wrap around my base as my palms massages my tip. He gives short quick strokes that make me see stars. I continue pinching along my head as he rubs up against my shaft. My grunts and groans stutter as he fucks me from behind harder, knocking the breath out of me each time.

"Cum for me, my little Nord. I want to feel you squeeze my cock as you do," he rumbles beside my ears. I have no strength to deny him, falling victim to his assaults quickly. In a flash, my body seizes, my spine arching as I feel my balls tighten. I scream like I never have before as I shoot white ropes onto the dirt-covered floor. He doesn’t stop squeezing me, milking me for all I have as his own thrusts stutter. "Yes, just like that," he grunts. As I fall limp on my arms he thrust once more before stilling. I can feel his hot load coating my insides, the feeling is divine. He gasps hard, one of his hands making scratches along my sweaty body.

We both catch our breaths, resting for just a moment in such a dangerous surrounding. He soon pulls out of me, sitting up straight on his knees. I can feel his cum dribble out of me, trailing over my taint and onto my balls before dripping to the floor. I watch between myself as the drops darken the floor.

"You took my seed, the payment is fulfilled," he stands and walks around to my front. He kneels down in front of me as I fall limp to the floor. He grabs my chin and forces me back up on my hands," Till next time, my little Nord." he presses a kiss to my lips then with a smirk, he vanishes. I fall once again onto the floor, naked and defiled.

"till next time," I mumble to myself with a content grin.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I wanted to write a MLM story and this smut came out. Also my best friend wanted me to write one too. so technically this is dedicated to him, Love you bro.

I love skyrim so enjoy this mess.

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog

[binniesthighs]

1-800-Be-Mine | reader x minho | sfw

happy valentines day!! this lil fic of mine is something very new and different from what I’ve tried before and I’m so so excited to share it with you!!

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x lee minho

Genre: fluff, sci-fi, futuristic au, valentines day special! 

Tags: strangers to lovers, sci-fi au, futuristic au, blind date au, AI au with a twist, mentions of food and alcohol, featuring hyunjin, tiny heart-shaped confetti of comedy and rebelling against the man lol, fluffy growing feelings 

Warnings: Minho’s character in this is an adorable, charming, feeling, AI robot. haha idk if this is a warning but it might not be everyone’s cup o’ tea, if so, that’s why I’m mentioning it :) 

Tagging: @stayhavens​ thank you for allowing me to be a part of this event ❤️

Word count: 7.1k 

“If it’s the color of your shirt that you’re worried about, I don’t think that he’s gonna care.” 

“--I can’t believe that you’re putting me through this. I didn’t even ask for...whatever the hell this all is.” 

“You’re getting worked up over nothing, Y/n. This whole thing is literally the lowest commitment thing that you could ever do on Valentines Day.” 

For the twentieth time, you held up the shirt and hanger over your torso in front of you streak-stained mirror. It shouldn’t have mattered much, or even at all, but here you were, wondering what color a synthetic human would like on your body the most. 

With feet in the air, your best friend swung his feet with pointed toes and eyes glued to his phone. 

“Quit looking at me like that.” Hyunjin didn’t even need to rise his head up to feel your glare. “He’s programmed to forget about you the second that your time runs out, so, I really don’t know why you’re wasting your time over this.” 

One more time, you switched the creamy white satin for the wine-red velvet. 

“God, this is so depressing.” The shirt hangers clinked together where you threw them down on your bed. “It’s all your fault too.” 

“I can’t see why you aren’t excited for this!! I literally made it so he’s perfect for you. There’s like, a 0% chance that this is gonna go badly. You could spit escargot into his lap or get his tie stuck in the car door and he’d still think that you’re the best thing ever. You can do no wrong.” 

“That’s the point...” 

The floor started to look a lot more appealing in your despair. If you were making a dramatic show for yourself or for you friend, you had no idea, but somehow it felt a little better letting your body sliiide down the side of the wall into a little pool of half-done make-up and hair still damp.  

“Stop throwing a tantrum.” Hyunjin scolded. “You have to be there in 45 minutes.” 

“What if I...just don’t show up?” 

“Then, you’d be robbing me of $360 and the most expensive gift that I’ve ever gotten for you. And, you’d break my heart. I don’t wanna be heartbroken on Valentines Day. I’d hate you forever.” 

“Nooooo you wouldn’t.” You tossed your forehead into the palms of your hands. 

“I’d hate you for a month probably.” 

“Don’t you have somewhere that you need to be?” As expected, your hands were smudged a bit from the tiny dusting of eyeshadow that you had added to your lids. 

“I told you already, she doesn’t get off until 8 so I’ve still got time. Besides, I already set everything up back at the apartment. I’m in no rush.” At last, your friend cast aside his phone on the mattress with a bounce. “Get up. I’ll help you. You should still look nice anyway...even if he doesn’t care. This night is about you anyway.” 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Is satin supposed to feel scratchy...? What? Satin being itchy? ...You must be going crazy if you think-- 

“--Annnd we’re here!” 

The wheels of Hyunjin’s less than glamourous car skidded in front of the hotel with an obvious screech. He was never one for being a good driver anyway. With the pull of his hand through is blond hair he nodded his head for you to open your door. 

“Time’s ticking. It’s nearly 7.” 

“--Jin--” 

“I’m not explaining it again. Just go do the damn thing. You’re overthinking it. Like you do with everything...” 

Your best friend rolled his eyes which were blue today: a part of his own Valentines Day outfit: that of which he looked much better than you thought you had. He had slung his arm over his steering wheel looking on, and even more impatient with you by the second. 

“Is it a fucking crime to be nervous??” 

Hyunjin laughed out sharply. “You’re so cute. ~Especially when there isn’t anything to worry about.~” 

You flicked him hard on his perfect arm covered by his perfectly planned and billowy white top. 

“Would you like to go out there and meet him if it’s so easy?” 

After a subsequent eye roll, your friend reached his long arm to pop open the car door on your side. “You’re not going to make me drag you, are you?” 

“I can get it myself.” You growled, shoving his hand away. 

The February air was crisp, and just cold enough for your breath to appear lightly in front of your face. Immediately, you started to regret everything: the itchy satin shirt (which you guessed probably wasn’t satin) the stiffness of your styled hair, and the way that your feet felt in the pair of shoes that you had broken out just for the occasion. You had even put perfume on; something that a “strictly deodorant” person as yourself found to be suffocating and odd. 

Do Mirrors even have a sense of smell? 

On the busy street, cars whipped past with headlights of yellow and red, and the bustle of the holiday evening buzzed on the sidewalk with couples marching down the way arm and arm and hand in hand. The energy of the evening seemed vibrant almost as if the whole world seemed to be slightly more awake. The plastic heels of ladies in their best shoes clicked past. 

“Good luck!” 

Hyunjin mustered up the most genuine smile that you thought possible for him to craft considering it wasn’t genuine in the slightest. 

“Text me about it tonight--or--actually, not tonight, I’ll be...” He obviously winked, “...busy tonight.”  

“You’re disgusting!!” 

You slammed the car door in Hyunjin’s snide smirk while he laughed out a “Love you!” before speeding away without a care. 

The remnants of old snow caked up in the corners of the hotel where Hyunjin had arranged the date. The hotel itself was very old fashioned looking, almost like it had come right out of one of those old movies he would tease you for liking--it was probably why he had chosen it, you thought to yourself. There was a large golden marquee with a strand of lightbulbs tracing the edge all around it much like an old-timey theater, which gave the name for the hotel. At the doorway made of the same golden hue, there were attentive bellhops in matching blue velvet uniforms and leather gloves that they blew in to to keep their hands warm. 

When you thought more of it, the night was a bit colder than expected, so you pulled your coat closer to your body. Hyunjin had suggested that you wear your pea coat, however it’s warmth factor wasn’t something to write home about. He had something about how it had made your arms look good...as if he would care anything like what your arms looked like. 

You pulled out your phone with your cold fingers to find the information that Hyunjin had sent you. 

Name: Lee Minho 

Model: Generation Four 

Specifications: Personalized 

Service time: 7pm-12am 

Instructions: Meet at the front entrance of the the hotel The Grand at exactly 7pm where the Mirror will be waiting. Mirror will look like: [see image] 

You hovered your hand over the little see image tab. Before, you had decided that you didn’t want to see the picture, and rather leave it as a surprise. That was the thrill of a blind date, right? For a moment, you rationalized it as peeking so that you knew what he looked like so you could find him. You hovered, and hovered... 

“No, I shouldn’t...” You whispered out to the open air while you shoved your phone back into your pocket. 

“Excuse me?” One of those attentive bellhops had snuck behind you and rose a caring hand to your shoulder: an action which made you jump. “Is there anything that I can help you with? Are you waiting for someone?” 

“Oh.” You straightened yourself. “Yes, I am waiting for someone. They’ll be here really--” 

“--Is it me that you’re waiting for?” 

He had strolled right up to you, and you could barely form the words on your mouth to say “yes.” You had heard the stories about Mirrors before, but as far as you had known, this was your first time ever seeing one this close...and you wouldn’t have even known that he was any different from the flesh and bones that you knew you had. 

He was devastatingly handsome; the kind of handsome that models were. Every single one of his features seemed to be carefully planned and calculated down to the little freckle on his nostril and his nose bridge of a perfect angle. Even his physical proportions seemed to be perfect: his arm muscles curved in wonderful angles under his black suit jacket that had one button at the front. He was dressed simply: merely a black tux with a white button up underneath and a deep navy blue tie. His chocolate brown eyes were a bit unique, looking even slightly cat-like. 

Not like you had a type, but if you were to have one, he definitely would have been it. 

He smiled upon seeing you, and coolly adjusted his silver cufflinks which you noticed had an insignia on them that looked a familiar: it was that picture of the eye with the spokes around it, the symbol of 3rdEyeCorp. As expected, everything in life seemed to come with a branding: even synthetic humans. 

“Should we go inside?” 

His voice was gentle and soothing, the kind of voice that you knew could lull you to sleep or convince you to do things that you wouldn’t want to. It was a voice that could put you at ease, and you wondered if that was intentional. Perhaps Hyunjin had told them that at times you could be neurotic. 

You finally squeaked out a, “Yes.” then followed him towards the soft glow of the magnificent building. He had slipped over past you to open the door, letting you enter first. 

“Oh...thanks...” 

As you passed him, you could have sworn that he smelled like some kind of citrus scent. In fact, you didn’t know that he could even have a smell. This was but one of the many questions that had been plaguing you for the past couple weeks since learning of Hyunjin’s plan. 

It wasn’t that he smelled like a person: that kind of earthy scene mixed up with the lingering scent of shampoo on hair, or a bit of mint holding to the corners of your mouth after you had brushed your teeth right before you exited the door. Still, you didn’t mind the citrus, it was better than nothing at all, you assumed. 

He walked up to the maître d with perfect posture, and it was then when you noticed that you were slightly shorter that he was. His suit was pressed, and a line ran down the back directly over his spine. 

“2 for L/n?” He said properly, and it felt strange hearing your last name come from his mouth. 

“Right this way.” 

He looked back at you, almost as if to see if you were doing okay. He held a little glint in his eyes that looked careful, caring even. From the very few words that he had said to you, he still maintained a composure about him that was...human. He was comfortable. 

The three of you reached the table with the ironed white table cloth, small bouquet of red roses and two flickering tea candles. The lighting of the room was dim as all restaurants such as this were, and there was a light hum about the room coupled with the occasional clink of silverware on China. There was a fireplace to the corner of the room, and the dense smell of expensive wine hung in the air. 

The maître d placed down the menus. “Your server will be with you shortly.”

You thought the small action a bit comical. You were the only one who knew his secret. Still, he nodded with a polite smile. “Thank you.” 

The satin fabric on your shirt scraped at your bare chest, and you attempted your slyest attempt at making a tiny itch look nonchalant. He picked up the menu with a few of his brown strands dipping over his eyes. You studied him as he looked it over, not having a clue why. You thought that you had heard somewhere that his kind couldn’t eat. Perhaps he was a new model. 

“I’m sorry. I haven’t formally introduced myself yet.” He put the menu down with a little embarrassed smile. “I must’ve forgotten. I’m Lee Minho.” 

“I know.” Your cheeks felt hot. “Uh-and I’m Y/n. But--you probably knew that too.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Smile lines crinkled under his eyes. It was the first imperfection you could find about him. 

“Yo-you too.” 

Minho reached out a slender and pale hand for you to shake and you stared it in a moment of fear. You had never touched a Mirror before, much less wondered what they felt like. 

“I don’t bite.” He chuckled out a small laugh that was much too cute for his own good. His shoulders then appeared to relax and he allowed himself to slouch. “At least, my model doesn’t.” 

You choked out an ugly chortle at the joke. “Ah. I see.” 

“You don’t have to be scared of me. I promise that I feel like anyone else.”

You took it, jumping a little at the sensation. He was warm--not exactly like you expected him to be cold and metallic however. The skin of his hand was cracked and grooved as normal, and it was squishy as if you could feel the muscles that would be underneath. 

With a warm grin, he soothed you saying, “See?” 

‘Oh...mmhm.” You shook his hand firmly. “Holy shit that's really creepy.” You muttered the words as softly as you thought you could have. 

“Creepy?” He laughed out again. “Should I be offended? No one has ever called me creepy before.” 

“Oh! Um, s-sorry, I didn’t mean--” 

“--It’s okay! I was just kidding. I completely understand. Especially if this is your first time meeting someone like me. It is your first time?” 

You nodded drawing your hand back with the warmth from his hand still lingering on yours. 

“Let me know if there is anything that I can do to make you more comfortable. Seems like...we’re meant to be too.” 

“--Meant to be?” You nearly dropped your cloth napkin to the ground. 

“I mean, based off of your profile, they thought that I would be best suited for you. And you know...the programming and all that.” 

“Oh! I guess so...” 

Next, you thought it best to busy yourself with that glass of water that was looking very oddly refreshing. 

“I meant to tell you as well that you look very nice. I think that color suits you very well.” 

Drops of water got caught in your throat, “T-AHEM-this?” You pinched at the fabric. 

Minho’s eyes widened at your sputtering coughs, signaling to a waiter to come fill your glass once more. 

“Sorry, was I not supposed to say that?” 

“No! No no, it’s...you’re fine. I was just a little surprised.” 

“Surprised? Why?” 

“I just didn’t think that you would...nevermind.” 

Even though you had nearly choked yourself seconds ago, up went your water glass to your lips once more. 

Minho fidgeted with his bangs with his pinky finger: a surprisingly vain little task. Under the dull lighting of the whole room, he did look very handsome; almost much too handsome to be in such a place with you. All at once, you became suddenly aware of the irregular patterns of those eyes peeking at you from their own tables with haughty and whispering words on their lips. 

“You look...very nice as well.” 

“Mm thank you.” As charming as ever, he gave a smile back. “This is my first time wearing this. I actually picked it out myself. I thought that you would like the color.” His pale fingers ran down the silk indigo tie. 

“You thought about it too??” 

“Thought about what?” 

A snide smile crept over your mouth. Hyunjin could eat his words. 

“Well do you? Like it?” A curious little smearing of worry painted Minho’s brow that was once again must too cute for his own good. 

“I-I do like it.” 

In all honesty, Minho would have looked good in anything, you thought, no matter how ridiculous. Under the thin white cotton of his shirt, you could see his toned pectorals as well. One pinch to the side of your leg was just enough to scold yourself. 

He looked around himself in a bit of a silent wonder: from the rafters of the high ceilings painted in gold leaf, to the speakeasy on the far edge of the room with the posh looking bartender.  

“I always thought that places like this were kind of stuffy.” He wrinkled his nose. 

“You...what?” 

“There's always someone at one table wondering if they look better, rank higher, or are more successful than the person at the other. Don’t you think the same?” 

“I mean...I think they do keep looking us?” 

“Ah. I noticed that too.” 

Minho looked around himself carefully, then leaned in closer towards you. “Do you think that they know that I’m...you know?” 

You snorted out a laugh covered by your hand. “What? No? How could they?” 

“A hunch.” 

“Can you even get hunches?” 

“I may be a robot, but I can still read a room.” 

You hushed him, “Shhhh! Say that any louder and then they’ll really know.” 

A waiter in a black apron sauntered up to your table with a thin moustache and a big of a sagging face. He looked a bit less like a real waiter and more like a cartoon one. 

“Good evening. Have you finished looking over the menus? Perhaps a bottle of wine to start you off? We have a new house merlot that I would highly  recommend.” He reached a spiny finger to point at the name on your menu. “It would pair particularly well with our specials tonight. Seeing as it is Valentines day--” 

The droning of the waiter continued on, and you had noticed that Minho wasn’t paying any attention at all. Rather, he had settled his gaze on the flickering of the candles, and the yellow light sparked in his pupils. For mere seconds, you could see something a bit different about them: a extremely thin circle of blue-white light around his irises.  

The waiter pulled out his pad with an expectant gaze. 

“Uh-yeah, I-I’ll take that. That--whatever-you-just-mentioned.” 

He appeared puzzled. “You wish to start with the special orange Crème Brule first?” 

“Ah-no! Sorry, can you..” You cringed, “Repeat what you just said?” 

He rolled his eyes, but did respectfully as he was told while you sunk further into your chair with Minho’s teasing smirk. This time you listened to the specials, even though you decided you didn’t even want one, but rather picked one of the cheapest items on the menu. That was one of the drawbacks of paying for your date: he had no obligation to pay for your meal. 

The waiter looked even more puzzled when Minho said he wasn’t ordering anything, but shrugged, burying his pad back into his pocket saying, “I’ll be over with the wine shortly.” 

“Do you want to know something?” Minho leaned back in once the waiter was out of an earshot. 

You treated yourself to yet another sip of your emptying glass, and nodded. 

“There’s at least four others like me in here.” 

“Four? How can you know?” 

“I think I’d know my own kind when I saw them.” 

“I would never be able to tell.” 

The waiter returned, showing the label to the wine to both of you before popping it open and pouring it into glasses with the twist of his wrist. Two drops from the crimson top stained the little napkin he used. 

Minho’s hands toyed with the stem of the glass, but didn’t take a sip. 

“That’s why they call us Mirrors.” 

“How do you mean?” 

“Because you’re supposed to see yourselves in us.” 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Your body had started to warm with the energy of the room after long, and your appetizer of escargot had arrived. Oddly, since Hyunjin had mentioned it before, it embedded in you an odd craving that you couldn’t satisfy until you had some. By now, you had realized that Minho likely wouldn’t have been eating with you, but it was strange: even the other Mirrors in the room appeared to be. 

“I’m assuming that you can’t eat then?” You popped the buttery taste into your mouth.  

“Yes. It doesn’t make sense for my...biology. If you can call it that. I can’t digest food nor do I have the mechanisms to do so.” 

“Maybe we should have done something that didn’t include food then.” 

“I do have something though! I know that eating alone like this can be uncomfortable.” 

He grabbed inside his inside suit pocket and pulled out a wallet: thin and black leather. It had almost nothing in it save for what looked like a iridescent square. Over top of it was the same logo on his cufflinks. He flipped it around his fingers like a playing card. 

“What is it?” 

“My dinner.” He sated matter-of-factly. 

“You’re gonna...eat that? Maybe you shouldn’t--”

He placed it neatly in front of himself, pressing the surface and it morphed into some kind of three dimensional polygon shape of pixels, both large and small, until it settled into a perfect copy of your dish that you had sitting in front of you. 

“It’s holographic.” 

“Of course it is.” 

“Newest in tech at 3rdEye. This is my first time using one. They thought it would be a good idea to send the prototypes out with the Mirrors tonight for the beta test. What do you think?” 

“It’s very...realistic.” 

“It’s pocket sized, and it can really transform into anything that you could want, but of course...its still not really solid. Perfect for me though.” 

He took a bite of his escargot with an equally holographic fork. 

“I imagine that it tastes very good.” 

“You can’t taste things?” 

“Unfortunately, no. Since I don’t need to eat, don’t know why I would need to. I’ve got all the other senses though.” 

The house merlot was bitter on your tongue and full bodied. You couldn’t imagine what your life would have been like without taste. He chewed on, and somehow the action really did seem comforting. 

“You’re very um, open about yourself. You know...talking about yourself so bluntly. I feel like some people when they do these things, they just want to keep on that suspension of disbelief as long as they can; pretending that you're--” 

“--A real person?” 

You hadn’t intended on it coming off as insulting, and a “sorry” formed on your lips. 

“--I’m not offended. And, you’re right. Most people do. But, I could sense that you were different. I don’t have a problem telling you about me. Something told me that you would like to know.” 

“Something?” 

“Enough about me though, lets talk about you. You’re a doctor aren’t you?” 

“-For animals. Nothing too crazy. I’m working up my way to have my own practice some day. For now, I’m just doing nurse type stuff. Giving immunizations, checking teeth and stuff like that.” 

“I read your thesis. The one from your pre-vet. I thought that your research was very interesting. How come you didn’t continue on with animal behavior?” 

His string of questions made you crack out into laughter. Never had anyone you had ever dated said that they had read up on you. 

“I can’t believe that you just said that.” 

“What? I had assumed that you might want to talk about something that interests you like that.” 

“That was...so long ago, I don’t even think about that paper anymore.” 

Minho took some of his wine down with a polite dab of his napkin to his lips. 

“How about hiking then? Or those Frank Capra movies that you like? Which one is your favorite?” 

“Stop, stop. This is--” 

His eyes widened. “Did I misspeak again? Your friend said that it would be okay if we did the proper research--” 

“--Just...sorry, it’s strange that you know everything about me already and we’ve hardly just met.” 

“I’m not following.” 

“Can you just...forget like, everything you know about me for a minute? This is supposed to be a blind date isn’t it?” 

“I can do that.” Minho tightened his tie. 

“How about we talk about something else?” 

Minho nodded in agreement with a determined tiny grin. “I can tell you about what I do?” 

“You have a job?” 

Your prompt waiter appeared with a giant silver platter which glinted in the light of the numerous dancing candles around it. The ceramic plates clinked into the glasses assorted on the table, and he lastly offered out freshly grated parmesan for your pasta. You said “when” and he was just as quickly out of your way, but not after granting the both of you one more questioning glare. 

“Yes.” 

Your date flipped over his holographic square, and soon it transformed into another spitting image of your meal. 

“I’m supposed to tell you that I’m a college professor of ornithology but since we’re being blunt here, my job is working for 3rdEye, and doing basically whatever they ask of me. Including this. And actually...” He twisted a string of noodles around his fork. “...I think that it’s going pretty well.” 

A quick giggle erupted out from you. “I’m glad that we’re being honest because you do not look like someone who teaches twenty somethings about birds.” 

“But if I had said I did, would that have made you like me more?” 

“Maybe. I’m sure that they picked that because I did graduate research on migration and flight patterns.” 

“Likely.” 

“Maybe I should have stuck with animal behavior. Then we would have had more to talk about.” 

A silence filled the space between you as you tried your best to eat your pasta with as much grace as you could. Of course, you were still one to get it on your lap and the table cloth, but luckily you had a napkin to protect you. Your date on the other hand, ate as if he was eating with the queen herself. For several moments, you really did allow yourself those brief moments of ignorance: you really were just two people, sitting in a fancy restaurant on Valentines Day, eating a meal together, on a date, as an normal two people would do. Every few moments too, he would look at you with a type of gentle adoration in his eyes too. 

And it felt nice. 

It really was as effortless as Hyunjin had said. You would be eating your words on this one. 

At last, you had scraped out the last chunks of tomato and vegetable bites from your shallow dish, and you sat back which a sense of drowsiness clinging to your eyes. Over time, you had slumped deeper and deeper into your chair as you felt your body warm with the fireplace. You didn’t mean to look, but your watch had read just past 9 o’clock. 

“That all tasted good.” Minho sighed, and slumped along with you. 

“I thought you couldn’t taste?” 

“Ah. You’re right. Well, I enjoyed eating that with you. Did it taste good?” 

“It did.” 

“Should we get some of that orange Crème Brule from earlier?” 

You folded up your napkin on the table. “You mean should I get some of that Crème Brule? I’m the one paying here remember?” 

“Are you?” 

With the stretch of your arms, you answered, “Not today. I don’t have that doctor’s pay...yet.” 

“But shouldn’t you eat something sweet on Valentines Day? Isn’t that also what its about?” 

You laughed, “I don’t know where you heard that, but no, it doesn’t.” 

“Ah, I see. My understanding of the holiday is very jumbled. Holidays are like that for us. The sort of emotional attachment to them is hard for us to understand. I’ve watched millions of hours of films to understand them...but--” 

“--Millions?” 

“Yes?” 

“That’s…insane.” 

“Not for me.” He said with a happy little grin. “Should we be leaving?” 

In one motion, he swept up his shirt sleeve, just over his wrist where you had expected him to have a watch. Instead, a faint blue glow emerged on his skin making letters and numbers that you couldn’t read as well from upside down. 

“Hm. 3 more hours. What else would you like to do with our time together?” 

»»————-　♡　————-««

The winter cold bit at your ears while the two of you walked together down the busy urban stretch. Even later into the night the giddy excitement of friends ambling down the streets and couples linking to eachother with tipsy happiness could still be found everywhere. You barely knew him, but you still felt in some way compelled to reach out and interlock your arm with his as those other couples did. You had a half a mind to reach out to him, but another half a mind to keep your arms wrapped around yourself. 

But, as if he had read your mind, he reached out his hand behind him to quietly slip your arm into his. 

“Put your hands in your pockets.” He asked, and you did so. “I figured that you must be cold, so...my body heats itself too, makes me more...you know.” 

He was warm. Much warmer than your entire body felt had felt then, but still you noted that the tips of his ears and nose had turned pink. 

“Where to?” He questioned next. 

“I-I’m not sure. I didn’t think this far.” 

“I could pick?” 

“You know where to go?” 

He was silent for a moment, then nodded. “There’s a place that I wouldn’t mind going to. Do you know how to skate?” 

“Ice...skate?” 

He huffed out with a tiny smile, and you noticed that when he did, no visible molecules could be seen in front of his face. 

“Do you? I can pick something else? It’s not everyone’s skill.” 

“N-no. I can do it.” 

You don’t know why you had said it: perhaps you felt as if you had something to prove to this inhuman person, or you really did want to go there with him, no matter where it was. 

You had never learned how to skate in your life. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

The ice rink was lined with pink and white string lights: likely a Valentines Day decoration. Plastic hearts made of fuzzy tinsel also decorated the edges of the rink and sparkled under the lights. It had been built into the center of a public park, and bodies huddled in winter coats sat together on the benches to the side, waving at those they knew when they slipped past. Tinny music played over the outdoor speakers: it was some pop song that you had heard before, but didn’t know the name of. 

Minho laced up your skates for you, and even then you noticed that his knuckles had turned pink too. 

“Are you...cold?” 

“Oh! This?” He turned his hands around. “No, I’m not. it’s just another one of my humanisms.” 

“Humanisms?” 

“Something to make me look more like you. When it’s cold outside my body senses it and does this.” 

“I see.” 

Even if you knew that he couldn’t possibly feel things in the same why, he was damn convincing--and you couldn’t help but think it was unbearably cute as well. 

“Done! You ready? You can take my hand if you want?” 

You stood wobbly as a deer taking its first steps. Walking on the blades was much more difficult than you would have guessed. He didn’t need to ask twice for you to grab hold. 

“I’m assuming that you know how to do this?” 

“There’s a lot of things that I know how to do.” He winked. 

The second that your feet met the ice, you felt your heart start beating into overdrive with your anxiety of falling. Over the ice, it too felt colder, and that didn’t help much either. With one hand you clawed to the side of the rink, and the other dug into Minho’s arm. 

“I thought that you said that you knew how to skate?” 

“I lied. I’m gonna fall on my fricking face and its gonna be the most embarrassing thing ever. Worse than spitting escargot into your lap.” 

“Spitting escargot? What?” 

“Just--can you help me?” 

He tittered with an adorably warm laugh and grabbed back at you firmly. “I won’t let go.” 

Even the toddlers in their little training bumpers were more skilled than you. Minho was patient, and coached you through the skills of the left and right motions of your feet and getting into a rhythm. You still flapped your arms around wildly like a wobbly penguin, but he was eventually able to coax you away from the wall.

“See! You’re getting the hang of it!” 

“Really?” 

Minho nodded profusely, letting go of both of your hands to hold just one. “Stop looking at your feet and just look at me. You’ll trip yourself up focusing so hard.” 

Other couples whipped past you, and you thought it best not to look at how easy it was for them. 

“I-I think that I’m doing it!” 

Minho’s eyes lit seeing you start to swing your feet back and forth. In that pink lighting of the rink, you could see that thin ring of light around his eyes once more. Even though it was unnatural, you still thought that it looked beautiful. 

“WATCH OUT!!” Came a distant voice from behind you. 

Before you had a second to turn around, a fuzzy blur came barreling into you. Two small bodies: a couple middle school boys chasing each other, came colliding with your teetering body, forcing you to fall to the hard ice with a terrible thud. 

“Oh my God! Are you okay?” One of their pre-pubescent voices cracked. 

“I-I’m fine...I think.” 

Your air had been knocked right out of your lungs and your butt ached with a sharp pain that you hoped you wouldn’t be feeling for days. Both of your hands were wet with ice from the contact. Minho quickly offered you his hand up.

“-You okay?” He brushed ice off of your coat. 

Truthfully, you were horribly shaken, and your chest shook, but you lied once more. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.” 

“No you’re not.” His worried eyes studied you. “Lets get you something warm to drink okay?” 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“One hot chocolate please.” 

Minho fiddled with his wallet, picking out that same iridescent square from before. As soon as his fingers touched it, it glimmered into a credit card. 

“It can do that?” You had uttered, but he gave you back a cautious glare. 

The man at the little coffee stand took it without question, and somehow, it worked. 

“$3.15″ He monotoned, and gave the card back. 

The white Styrofoam cup warmed your hands instantly, and the chocolatey steam delighted your nostrils. 

“Thank you. You didn’t have to.” 

“It’s no problem. I wanted to.” 

You took a sip, but a strange silence befell over your date, and he furrowed his brows. 

Under his breath, he repeated the word “...wanted?” 

The further that you walked along the river together, the less that you wanted to take another look at your watch where it peaked out from your coat sleeve. You imagined that it must have been nearing almost 10:30--optimistically. Instead, you took long and purposeful sips of of your drink and indulged in the way that the heat would seep down from your throat and all the way down your body. 

Onward, one of the great and massive bridges of the city blinked with an array of multicolored lights: some from cars, others from the way that it was decorated to look a bit like shining stars. Under the lights, the navy-black of the river reflected the fractals of light. The walkway was nearly empty of people except for the odd couple sitting and cuddled up by the edge of the water. The water should have been frozen, but it didn’t appear to be giving up just yet. 

Your companion had drawn quiet with eyes cast down to his walking feet. You had half a mind to reach out to him... 

“Is there anything you would like to do?” Your question filled the quiet, but you didn’t expect him to stop in his steps upon hearing it. 

“Are you asking me if there is anything that I want do to?” 

“Yes...?” 

Minho was again quiet, then turned to look at the vast expanse of the cityscape in front of you both. 

Suddenly, he began, “Valentines Day is a holiday that has to do with loving, doesn’t it?” 

You stammered at the question in your confusion, but still answered. “Yes.” 

“You express love on the holiday? You show people that you love them, and that you care for them. Right?” 

“I think so...but why are--” 

“--What do you think that it means to love something?” 

Distantly, cars honked, and music boomed out from drawn down windows, and it floated in the evening air. 

For you, loving was something that was second nature. It was little bits of happiness, fuzzy feelings, but it also ached, and felt like being lost. How could you possibly begin to describe what it meant? 

Minho’s eyes were full of intrigue and even maybe a twinge of desperation. Could Mirrors even hold such a thing in their eyes? 

“I-I’m not sure how to cover it all, but, I guess that I could say that loving something, or someone, is to want them. You want to be around them, you want to see them laugh or smile, you want to make them feel that you care. I don’t think that it is much more complicated than that. 

The man appeared even more confused, almost like he had been computing his own mental calculations right before his very eyes. Then, all at once, his eyes softened. 

“If loving something is to want it; to have desire, desiring is the first step? Love must be simplier than I thought that it was, and maybe...I think that I can do it.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Minho swept up his hands in yours after casting aside the cup to the ground. 

“You asked me if I wanted to do something. But the thing is...I don’t think I’ve ever wanted do to anything ever before in my life. It was just, what others wanted of me and what I colud do for them. Not me.” 

Realization swept over Minho piece by piece, and soon it all unfolded for you too. 

He drew your arms and hands around the back of his neck to pull your body closer to his. 

You might’ve looked before, but his lips looked soft and unbelievably sweet: like melting snowflakes, whipped cream, or the fuzzy flesh of peaches. 

“I do want something.” He said at last. 

“Minho...what are you saying?” 

“I-I can’t tell if what it is that I’m feeling is some kind of algorithm, or I’m just...you’re so...different.” 

“I hope that you’re not just saying this all--” 

“--I’m not! I’m not. I promise...an-and Mirrors can’t lie.” He laughed out. “How can you make a machine that’ll lie to you?” 

His hands crept up your sides, and all the way up to cup your face in his hands.

He was impossible. In every way, but he was real. As real as the warmth from his hands and as real as the way that his mouth appeared to wet with saliva and how you could count the tiny moles on his face. 

“Well, what is it that you--”

He had drawn your face close up into his, then closed any space that divided the two of you. Your lips parted with his into a meeting of his plush lips that were even softer than you had imagined. Even though you knew he couldn’t taste it, you flooded the taste of chocolate into his mouth, and your body shivered in the way that he ran his tongue over your bottom lip. He wasn’t intrusive, but rather curious, and thrilled. Any semblance of him that was any less than the skin that you felt on yours faded, and you poured yourself all back to him. His fingers held fast to the sides of your face while he kissed back every with every bit of him that he could. Even in the one moment when your eyes had fluttered open, he held his eyes closed, to focus only on you. Your own wondering hands laced into his fuzzy locks. 

Each and every kiss that he painted across your lips was laced with indescribable want: something that he shouldn’t have even known, but you could feel it. He echoed the smile that you had pressed into his lips. 

“I just want to be with you tonight. Just a bit longer. No more timers.” Minho whispered onto your mouth, barely breaking. 

On the one hand, his request terrified you. A Mirror, one who you thought to be unfeeling, pre-programmed, an empty shell, wanted you. But still, you couldn’t control yourself from wanting him back, and everything about him that you knew and didn’t know. Wanting him, was the simplest thing you could have done. 

“I-I want that too.” 

His smile was thankful, and suddenly every little way that his eyes would crinkle or the corners of his mouth would upturn seemed more genuine. 

Minho traced your hands to the back of your his neck where he guided them to the tip of his spine. 

“Touch here.” He guided your fingertip over what felt like a bone. “Press down.” 

You did so, and the patch of skin sunk down a bit like a button. You held his eyes which flickered wholly with that blue-white light you had taken notice of before. 

“Say “Bypass LK2510.” “ 

He held your finger down still, and you repeated the phrase, watching as the light vanished all at once, even that thin ring around his irises. 

“What did that do?” 

Minho blinked a couple time like he was ridding sleep from his eyes, then beamed with a grin that only got wider and wider. “They shouldn’t know where I am for a while. You disabled my tracker.” 

“I did what??? Can’t I get in trouble for that??” 

“Not when I made you do it.” 

In his delight, he pressed his lips back up against yours with a kind of light air that was ecstatic and hurried--it was contagious, and the feeling swept over you until you were just as giddy. You were nearly as giddy as a school child reveling in the mischief of knowing what they were doing was against the classroom rules. 

Your chest swelled with nervous excitement, but it wasn’t nearly as addictive as any drug that you could imagine. 

“Where do you want to go now?” You asked him with hands clinging to the sides of his coat. 

“Anywhere.” 

~~

[nsfw version/ending coming soon on binniesthighs!] 

[theluckyshadow]

“Still think I’m a sub?”

Written by an absolutely lovely anon who asked me to publish this beautiful work thank-you for writing it it’s amazing.

Tagging: @sluttgyu (look it’s your wonderful confession 😉)

Chilling in your lonely and empty apartment wondering what you could do to cure your boredom. Glancing over to the clock you read 11:40. Letting a groan slip past your lips, you pick up the phone and call the first contact you see.

Dancing around the quiet kitchen as it rings.

“‘Ello.”

You’re greeted with the voice of your bestfriend Giwook. A small smile paints your lips when you hear his voice.

“I'm bored.” You say flatly, flopping on to the couch.

“Hmm, that's unfortunate, what do you want me to do about it?” Giwook laughs

'Come over?' You propose, hoping he'd agree.

'Why should I?' He teases, you can hear the little smile pained on his face and how hes enjoying being a little shit.

“We can get drunk and watch movies and order chicken, you in or no?” You laugh kicking your feet in the air for no reason.

“I'll be there in 5,” he says, before he hangs up without a good bye. Tossing the phone on to the cluttered coffee table, you tidy up as best as you can in 5 minutes.

Just as you were about to call and order take out, Giwook bursts in to your home with no invitation.

"Let’s fuck shit up tonight!" He said loudly, holding a bag above his head.

"Excited much?" You laugh finally dialing the number. He just gives a cute nod and makes his way to the couch. You jump over the top of the couch and land beside him, kicking your feet over his lap and take the bottle of soju from his hands. He looks at you in shock as you nonchalantly take a big sip and continue ordering chicken.

The night begins with a few drinking games before the food arrives. When it does the drinking doesn’t stop and you both decide to put on a movie, the alcohol in your systems making you giggle and laugh at everything and fall all over eachother. Not realizing the movie you put on had a sex scene, you burst out laughing at Giwooks reaction to the steamy moment in the screen.

"You should see your face" you drunkenly laugh all filters gone from your mind.

"Says the one the could be a twin to a rose" he snorts, laughing at your drinking blush only worsened by the current scene on the screen.

You guys calm down and actually watch it while commenting on how fake it looked, until a thought you had slipped past your lips.

"I bet you'd be a bottom.” You say not looking away from the screen.

"Pardon!?" Giwook nearly choked on his drink in shock.

"You just give off sub vibes, either that or you're a virgin, no shame in that either." You shrug looking at him.

"I most definitely am not a virgin.” He argues back whilst blushing madly.

"Okay good for you.” You laughed. His pouty expression too funny for any comments.

"And I‘m not a sub." he adds, finishing the sip he was going to take.

"Oh yeah? Prove it." You smirk, the alcohol in your system giving you the courage to say that. He quickly pulls you on to his lap and kisses you. It was sloppy and messy, but, what else would you expect from a drunken make out session? His hands gripping tight onto your hips, pulling you closer to where he needed you the most already.

You gasped against his lips when you feel his already hardened self on your core. Giwook takes this invitation to slip his tounge into your mouth, you could taste the heavy flavor of soju and beer on him and it was intoxicating. His hands make you move your hips against him drawing a moan from your lips. Giwook's kisses trail down your cheek to your neck, he paints your throat with purple and red before he returns to your face.

"Do you really want to continue this?" He asks looking at you're flushed face.

"Very." You pant pulling him in for another heated kiss.

He stands up and makes his way to your room and throws you on your bed, taking off his bucket hat and sweatshirt before taking his place on top of you, his hands make their way up your shirt and down your thigh making you wrap one of your legs around him, wasting no time, Giwook removes your shirt and sweats leaving you in your underwear- he also takes his sweats and underwear off too.

You cant help but stare in shock at what you once deemed as your innocent best friend.

Giwook pulls the top of you're bra down as he was either too drunk still or couldn't be bothered to unclasp it. He moves your underwear to the side and tests the waters by inserting a his fingers into you first. Your eyes flutter shut and a soft gasp leaves your lips. You could feel Giwook's eyes roam all of you as he watched you easily unfold in front of him.

"And here I was thinking you were a top, guess we were both mistaken baby," he says in your ear followed by a chuckle, his words leave you speechless as his voice dropped a bit leaving you shaken (in all the right ways), a chuckle leaves his slightly swollen lips at the reaction.

You could now start to feel your self start to come near to your high, means increasing in pitch and volume.

"G-Giwook!" You gasp grabbing at his wrist. He just chuckles and removes his fingers from you and uses the wetness that covered his hand, and fingers, to stroke himself.

"You look pretty submissive yourself right now babydoll, what a pretty sight.” He chuckles, leaning in to kiss you again. You whimper against his lips as you feel him push into you, a smirk paints his plump lips at your reaction, he stays still and awaits a reaction.

"Please Giwook, move please, just do something," you whine, moving to a whole new kind of sub space.

Giwook starts out soft but quickly moves to a faster and rougher pace. You throw your head back and let out a chorus of whines, moans and whimpers.

"Fuck look at you, begging and I didnt even have to ask you." Giwook groans in to your ear. You gasp and lace your fingers in his hair and pull him into another kiss as best as you can. He sits up and grabs your thighs, making you wrap your legs around him, gripping tightly and watching himself thrust in and out of you. You grab and hold on to anything and try to muffle your noises, Giwooks’ hand travels to your clit and harshly rubs it, sending a jolt through you, causing a loud moan to rip from your throat.

"Nah nah, dont hold back, let me know how good I'm making you feel.” He chuckles.

You didnt know how long it had been but you could feel yourself curling your toes and your stomach tighten. A broken moan of Giwooks’ name was your way to signal to him your close release. He chuckles and speeds up, the bed now creaking loudly with each thrust and the head board harshly hitting the walls. The new pace as well as Giwook’s constant assault on your clit helped bring you to your release, you let go nearly screaming as you cum hard around him, his own groans and moans now much more often and louder, he continues to thrust through your orgasm as he chases his own, slightly overstimulating you. You could only gasp and claw at his back, lost in a world of pure pleasure. Giwook’s thrusts become sloppy and inconsistent before he stills and buries himself into you as he let's go, painting your walls with his release. A whimper leaves your lips when he plants kisses along your collarbone as he pulls out, falling beside you.

You hear a crack and look at eachother and let out a tired laugh, still trying to catch your breaths.

"So," he pants looking to you, you look back at the brown eyed boy, "Still think I’m a sub?"

[getitinbusan]

Birthday Surprise (SMUT)

Happy birthday to our Kim Taehyung!

I busted this out in record time so I hope the smut makes up for the lack of editing.

You knocked on the door lightly to get Jimin's attention without waking up the birthday boy. Your stomach was a ball of nerves as you waited for him to let you into the dorm. He smiled sweetly at you through the window as he turned the lock and pushed it open to welcome you.

Laying a quick kiss on your cheek, you blushed as he explained,  "I made sure everyone had plans and they'll be out of the house for at least 4 hours. Taehyung is still sleeping, he's in the last room at the end of the hall."

You inhaled deeply trying to calm yourself, "Thanks for helping Chim, and for not making this awkward…"He laughed, I'm just happy you trusted me with your birthday secret. Now get in there and deflower my best friend."

Embarrassed you could only shake your head, "Yep, not awkward at all." Grabbing his bag he pulled the door closed behind him and turned the lock.

You'd been in the house before while you waited for Taehyung but it was never this quiet. The absence of his brothers made it unbearably still as your loud heartbeat echoed through your chest. Slowly making you way up the hall to the last room you reached out to turn the handle slowly. Laying in his boxers and a t shirt  he was snoring softly while clinging to his pillow. The room was a mess and there were no sheets on the bed, maybe you should have let Jimin tip him off to your plan.  

Undoing your coat and letting it drop to the floor you took a quick glance in the mirror to make sure you looked okay. What would he think? You'd spent a lot of money for the see through black babydoll set you were wearing.

"Tae," you whispered softly, he stirred slightly, "Happy Birthday Taehyung." He rubbed his eyes opening them slowly, "Jagi, what are you doing here? Am I dreaming." You giggled at his cuteness, he sat up, his eyes widened as he moved over the bed to get to you.

"You're not dreaming baby, I wanted to wake you up on your birthday and surprise you with your present."

He wrapped his arms around your waist and looked up at you, "I love you so much y/n" Running your hands through his hair you leaned down to place a kiss on his lips, "I love you too and I want us, right now, to have sex." 

He seemed shocked and a little flustered, "Hang on…" he left in a flurry and returned a few minutes later with a blanket tucked under his arm. He threw all the clothes and plushies off his bed and flung the blanket out to cover the bare mattress. Grabbing his phone he connected it to his speaker and smooth jazz began playing throughout the room.

"Are you done Tae? Because I'm really really ready for this to happen." He nodded yes and then he quickly frowned, "No, one more thing"

Leaning on his dresser impatiently, you couldn't believe he was making you wait. He came back in and moved towards you grinning, "now I'm ready." He leaned in cupping your face and kissed you slowly, you couldn't help but laugh into his mouth, "Tae, did you really just leave me standing here like this to go brush your teeth?"

Continuing to kiss down your neck he nodded, "Do you want the memory of losing your virginity to include morning breath?" He tickled your sides and pulled you down on the bed laying on top of you, "Are you sure you're ready for this? I don't want you doing this just because its my birthday"  Reaching into his boxer shorts you grabbed his length and stroked it gently, "I'm 100% positive if you are." 

His long fingers fumbled to undo the tie on the front of your lingerie, saving him, you pulled it and the lace opened sliding over your breasts. He paused to stare, taking in your body hungrily.

You'd been together for 6 months and while you'd made out you'd never seen each other naked. "You're so beautiful Jagi," he breathed out while laying soft kisses over your chest. Never having felt anything like this in your life you could only lay back and moan in pleasure as his lips suckled your nipples. His hand moved down your body and his fingers found their way between you legs, a little shock wave ran through you when the palm of his hand rubbed over your sensitive clit.

"Put them inside me, please," he complied, walking his fingers down further until your wet opening  was right beneath it. Slowly he pushed it into your soft pink hole deeper and deeper until he couldn't go further, stopping to watch your face he thought he could cum right there.

"You're okay?" He asked, "Do you want more?" He pulled it out painstakingly slow teasing you.

"Yes, please... Tae, I've masturbated before I'm not going to split in two, you can be a little less gentle"

Taken back by your words he pushed two fingers in abruptly and rocked his palm against your clit. "Like that is that better? I didn't know you were such a dirty girl." Becoming an instant mess under him he didn't let up, his fingers definitely felt better than your own, "I'm going to make you cum before I even get inside you, do you want that? Do you want to see if my tongue feels good too?"

You'd never heard him talk like this, his words were making you clench around his fingers and the lewd noises from your wetness had you right on the edge. "Lick me Tae, fuck I want your mouth on me so badly," giving your nipple one more harsh suck he moved down your body.  Leaving sloppy kisses on the insides of your thighs he wasted no time attaching his lips to your swollen clit.

"Oh my God! Fuck," you shouted in ecstasy, "Shhh, baby, everyone's going to know what we're doing in here." He licked slowly over your cunt.

"Nobodies here Tae I made them all leave, so we can fuck as loud as we want." Feeling less self conscious, he took it as a new challenge to make you cum not only hard but loud as well.

"This is the best birthday ever," he growled at your cunt before slamming his fingers back inside. His words got you worked up, never thinking he'd be one for dirty talk just seeing you writhing when he spoke made the expletives drip off his tongue like your juices all over his face.

"So close Tae, don't stop… fuck don't stop," you were grinding yourself onto his face and his fingers were merciless inside you as you came all over him. "Shit Jagi, that was amazing. You're so sexy, I think I just want to make you cum like that all the time" 

Pushing him off of you onto his back you pulled his shirt over his head, "I'm not going to stop you, but today is supposed to be about you. Tugging down his boxers his dick laid hard as a rock on his stomach. "Jesus Tae,  your cock is fucking huge," he laughed out loud "is it going to split you in two?"

He was flattered, you were scared. You'd felt him pressed against you leg when you'd made out and dry humped but you were not prepared for this giant girthy dick that lay before you. Starting with small kitten licks to his tip he twitched under you. Making the strokes bigger you moved from his head to his base to his balls as he leaked little beads of pre cum out of his eager tip.

"Ummm, you taste so sweet" sucking up the drops and licking your lips you let your cunt slide over his leg as you moved back down to fully wrap your lips around him.  He threw his head back, the noises leaving his body had you so turned on you wanted nothing more than to see him cum all over himself. Your jaw ached, he was so smooth and delicious you didn't want to stop. His hands moved to the back of your head and he grabbed your hair, "stop… I'm going to cum," you kept going against his force, "just a bit more… please Tae, I love how you feel in my mouth." 

He grabbed you and flipped you onto your back, "I want you too badly to blow it on a blow job," reaching over to his side drawer he grabbed a box of condoms, "I bought these two weeks after I met you and I'm so glad we're finally getting to use them." Pulling out a foil pack you grabbed it out of his hand, "The day after I met you I started taking the pill."  Before your eyes, his lust starved look turned into pure adoration, "I am so in love with you, you can't possibly even know" he rested his forehead against yours and kissed you, his lips never broke contact as he pushed himself inside you. When he was fully inserted he stopped, his hands caressed your face and ran through your hair as he looked into your eyes, "are you okay?" you nodded.

His hips moved slowly and deliberately, afraid to move too fast and wreck the moment by hurting you.  As you became more comfortable you sped up your movements to meet his thrusts in wet slaps of bare skin. Sweaty and blissed out you wanted to take over, to let him lay back and enjoy himself. "Tae, can I ride you baby?" he wrapped his arms around you tightly and rolled over carefully to keep himself inside you.

Taking control you plunged yourself down onto him, his cries of pleasure spilled out of his mouth faster as you began clenching around him. Grabbing your ass he helped drag you over his cock as your fatigue set in, this was it. 

"Shit, Fuck, Oh My God," not sure who's words were who's the air was filled with satisfaction as you both came at the same time. Collapsing on top of him, you both lay wrapped in each other catching your breath until you couldn't take the stickiness anymore, "I guess we should get cleaned up before everyone gets home."

Throwing on his t shirt, you walked down the hall towards the kitchen to grab some water. You were met in the living room with six synchronized voices, "SURPRISE!" Tae pulled you behind him, "Y/N was just here to give me my birthday present," you'd never seen anyone blush that hard before. "Yeah we heard," Yoongi winked. 

[schrijverr]

Ain’t this familiar

Jonny along with Ashes and Tim is send out to get screws for Brian on New Texas. First they run into little Jonny then Jack and then his father, it doesn’t bring back any good memories.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: implied/referenced abuse, mentioned alcoholism and slight self hatered. Tell me if I missed andything and be careful!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jonny was in a bad mood.

No, that wasn’t true, if Jonny was in a bad mood he would be shouting, shooting and drinking, but none of the Mechanisms had seen or heard Jonny in three days. There was something wrong with him and all could make a pretty educated guess what it was about.

You see, they were on their way to New Texas, Jonnys planet of origin. They had to go there in order to fix a screw for Brian. Doc Carmilla had picked some up on New Taxes when she took Jonny and used them to built Brian later, but as they’d recently discovered this type of screw was only produced there and they were out. So they had to go.

Jonny would’ve been fine, he told himself to be cool about it, they’d visited other peoples home planets and the others had been fine, so why wouldn’t he be? They’d even managed to avoid Marius in his own time line.

He could manage.

He could, until he couldn't.

It had taken a day for the reality to set in. They were within his mortal life years and since Brian didn’t trust anyone else to time jump and they weren’t sure if the screws would be produced in another time they had to go there and NOW.

Jonny wasn’t prepared to go back there, he wasn’t. He’d told them all the story, but it hadn’t been the complete truth and he would see everyone again and alive. His dad, Jack. That was just too much and he didn’t know how to function.

He’d been lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, not doing much except letting the thoughts swirl around in his head until they spiraled.

In the end he snapped himself out of it by telling himself: you’re not letting them fuck you over again, the others will get suspicious and the last thing you want is more questions or not being allowed to come. You need to see everything for yourself, Marius is always going on about closure and stuff, it’ll be therapeutic. Just act normal.

Which is why he showed up the next day, showered and dressed. The others were shocked to see him, so he scowled at them and snapped: “What?”

Brian cleared his throat and replied: “Oh, uh, just surprised to see you. How are you feeling?”

Jonnys scowl deepened as he said: “I’m fine, nothing is going on.”

“That sounds like bullshit, Jonny.” Ashes told him.

“Well, I don’t remember asking for your opinion, Ashes.” Jonny snapped back at them.

They gave him a look, before saying: “And I did not ask for the attitude, seems like both of us don’t get what we asked for. Just because you’re in a bad mood doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole about it.”

If Jonny were any other person he would have apologized, but he wasn’t so instead he looked a bit guilty and said: “I know, just tense.” he saw them open their mouth and quickly added: “I wanna go. I have to go.”

They closed their mouth, but Brain said: “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” he snapped, then a bit calmer, “Yes, I don’t want you all out there without me, if any of you go I go. Besides, I know the way.”

He grinned at the last part, his mask fully forming again after everything. Luckily Brian seemed to get it and the others there didn’t comment either.

They arrived on New Texas the day after that.

Jonny had tried to be around the other as much as he could, just acting like himself to convince them he was really fine and up to it. If it was unconvincing no one had called him out on it yet and no one had tried to stop him.

Brian couldn’t move much and they didn’t need that much people to get fucking screws, so it was decided that Jonny would go along with Ashes and Tim, who would otherwise destroy the Aurora out of boredom.

The three of them stepped out on the desert planet and Jonny just stopped for a moment to take everything in. The same shacks that claimed they were homes, the same drunks asleep on the streets, the same kids in rags and the same dust flying through the air, everything was just the fucking same.

Ashes and Tim waited on him and he quickly caught up. He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, so he hurried them over the fastest route to the blacksmith that made the screws. They wouldn't be spotted in the back way alleys, but Jonny didn’t give a fuck about that, so they went over the main road.

The small group got stares from everyone. They looked like they definitely didn’t belong here and folks around these parts didn’t take kindly to strangers, but they all had weapons in plain sight and they looked mad enough to use them, so they weren’t really stopped.

At least, not for a while.

Then a small boy came running up to them. He was around ten, had short light brown hair and shaggy clothes. Around his waist he had a broad belt with a flask and from his mouth hung a cigarette. In his hands he had a knife, but he didn’t hold it up as he blocked their way and demanded: “Who are y’all and what’re you doin’ here?”

A bit farther away a group kids was looking at him with a mix of awe and fear.

Jonny had forgotten how much of a little prick he’d been, how desperate for attention. He had no time to deal with himself, so he told the little fucker: “Go away, Jonathan, before I shoot ya and don’t you go thinkin’ I won’t.”

The kid frowned at that and hesitated, before saying: “I’ve never seen ya around, how’d ya know my name? Oh and it’s Jonny.”

Ashes and Tim were quiet as they looked between their First Mate and the kid. They’d never heard Jonny have anything but a British accent, but it seemed he’d slipped into his home accent without noticing.

It was also disconcerting how much the kid looked liked Jonny, but also didn’t.

The boy was Jonny but smaller, but he was too wary yet too naive to be their Jonny. He also didn’t care as much about his appearance or he just didn’t have the resources. Jonny took great pride in having nice clothes and stealing shiny jewelry, but it seemed his younger counterpart was content with the rags.

Meanwhile Jonny answered himself: “I think I’m gonna stick with Jonathan. Now scram.”

“No.” god little Jonny was even more pig headed than older Jonny.

They were gaining a crowd too, which wouldn’t be optimal, so Tim put a hand of Jonnys shoulder and said: “Jonny, I love a fight as much as the next person, but if we want to get out of here without fucking everything up, we need to move now.”

“Is your name Jonny too? Are you me? Is that why ya look like me?” kid Jonny inserted himself back into the conversation, “Also why’d ya have that weird accent?”

“God, you’re deceptive, why I ever believed my dad when he told me I was dumb, I’ll never know.” Jonny muttered to himself, before saying: “We ain’t from ‘round here and that’s enough for now, cause I’m done with ya.”

He had always been a small and scrawny, but Jonathan, little as he was, was even more so. Jonny could pick him up without problem and set him down out of their way, before walking away. He’d wanted to throw himself on the ground, but he didn’t want to give bystanders a reason to shoot them either.

Sadly, this did not deter the younger version him from trailing behind them, while asking questions. It had stopped being about impressing the other kids the moment this stranger knew his name.

Jonny ignored himself, but Tim and Ashes found it quite hilarious to see the mortal kid version of their crew mate. So when Jonathan asked: “Why’re y’all here?”

Ashes answered: “Buying some screws.”

“Why’re you doin’ that here though?” Jonathan asked, happy to get an answer.

“Because we need a specific type of screw that we can only get here.” Ashes said.

“Cool. Why’re y’all dressed so weird?” Jonathan pressed on.

Tim answered that one: “In my opinion it is you, who is weirdly dressed, but ignoring the phrasing. We’re dressed like this, because we’re not from around here. You don’t expect everyone to look like you, do you?”

The little kid though about it, before he said: “I dunno know. Ne’er seen anythin’ else.”

“You’ll get there.” Ashes told him.

“Stop giving him ideas, he’s already insufferable enough.” Jonny said, with his focus on Ashes and Tim the accent switched back. It was pretty weird.

Jonathan picked up on it too and asked: “Why’d ya accent get strange all o’ a sudden?”

They were almost at the smithy and he hoped the little shit wouldn’t be stupid enough to follow them in there, Jonny thought before he gave him a glare and replied: “That’s none of ya damn business.”

It seemed like he wasn’t, because the moment he noticed where they were going he stopped dead in his tracks. Jonny was happy to leave him there, but Ashes was suspicious of the sudden stop and asked: “What’s wrong, kid?”

Jonny rolled his eyes, but Jonathan just stammered: “Are y’all sure you gotta be there?”

Sharing a look with Tim Ashes nodded and asked Jonathan: “Yeah, why?”

“I ain’t wanna stop y’all or nothin’, but uncle Jack’s in there t’day and he don’t take kind to strangers interruptin’ him.” Jonathan told them.

Freezing with fear Jonny stayed quiet, but Tim curiously asked him: “Uncle Jack?”

Jonathan didn’t realize it wasn’t meant for him and answered: “Yeah, he takes care o’ me when dad looked too deep in the glass again, I can hide there when he starts hittin’, ya know. But he ain’t somebody ya wanna get on your bad side.”

That got Jonny looks from his companions, but he did not notice since internally his mind was scrambling for a plan of action. He couldn't send his friends in there alone, but he also didn’t want to be anywhere near the man.

Jack had been nice enough, until Jonny was old enough to pay back his fathers debt. It had all been manipulation to turn him into a willing murderer. He shuddered at the thought of those wondering hands he’d thought to be kind, but turned angry the moment he’d done something Jack hadn’t been pleased with.

He mentally checked in again, just in time to hear Ashes say: “We can handle a bit of a bastard, kid, we’re tougher than we look.”

Jonathan didn’t look convinced, but backed off and quickly ran away. Jonny couldn’t blame him, he wanted nothing more than to run after him. Jonathan was probably going to the dump where a small hole hid him when he didn’t want to be found.

But he couldn't, because he companions had already thrown open the door to the smithy and he had to rush after them into the lions den.

With the slam of the door the two men inside startled at the noise and Jonny was sure that if Jack was the type to get his hands dirty there would be a gun in his hands right now. The smith glared at them and said: “We’re closed.”

Jonny should probably speak right now, he had the accent so they were less likely to murder them if he spoke, but in order to speak he had to have functionally vocal cords. Instead Ashes answered: “Sign on the door begs to differ.”

“You ain’t from ‘round here.” the smith observed, “Go, y’all can come back later.”

Ashes was still staring them down, Jonny rooted to the floor next to them, but Tim was going past the racks until he’d found what they were looking for. He got up to the register and smiled: “We’re just taking these and then we’re gone and you can go back to your little secret special meeting, okay?”

Jack had stayed silent up until that point, but he wasn’t allowing such a thing, so when Tim was done he said: “You listen up, kid. We don’t take kindly to strangers ‘round here, so you can come back later like a good boy.”

He had obviously no idea, who he was talking to. Jonny had forgotten how proper Jack sounded compared to the rest of the town and hearing his voice again, made him instantly want to please Jack.

“We’ll go, no problem, sir. We’dn’t seen, ya know. My friends ain’t from ‘round ‘ere like ya guessed. I’ll set them straight. We don’t mean to bother y’all.” he said.

He was already clumsily backing away, happy with the pleased smile from Jack and ignoring the confused looks from Ashes and Tim. Before he could get out of there Jack stopped him: “You sound like you’re from ‘round here, but I haven’t seen you before.”

Jonny swallowed heavily and grimaced in an attempt to smile as he said: “It’s been ‘while.”

Jack hummed, it was his thinking hum. The hum he gave when he was deciding if you were worth anything or if whatever you had done deserved nothing but punishment. Jonny hated that hum.

He hated Tim even more when he said: “No, we’re not going. We just need this, it will be done in a second and everyone can go on their merry way. You’re all making this way more complicated than it has to.”

Mouth twisting into a thin white line, Jack gave the smithy a nod and the man pulled out his gun and shot Tim. Ashes sighed and went to pick up their idiot friend. They were mostly annoyed at Tim for making it violent, but overall didn’t seem to mind too much.

Jonny on the other hand did mind. His eyes had widened and he looked back to see in Jacks eyes that he had decided that they weren’t worth the air they were breathing. Panicking he helped Ashes get Tim out of the way, snatching the screw up as he told Jack: “‘M so sorry ‘bout ‘im, sir. He ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed, he sure didn’t mean it tha’ way.”

Jack ignored his apologies in favor of looking at Tim, he turned to Jonny deciding that he was the most likely to answer and asked: “Why’re you actin’ like that bastard is gonna stand up again?”

Looking between Jack and Tim, Jonny floundered for a second. He settled on shrugging and saying: “It’s just a flesh wound. This ain’t the worst this idiot went through.”

“He was shot through the head.” Jack told him, looking at him intently.

Jonny struggled about what to say next, but needn’t have bothered, since Tim was already coming to again. From where he was slung over Ashes shoulder he groaned and rubbed his head, before mumbling: “The asshole gave me a migraine.”

The smithy fainted and beside him Jacks eyes grew wide and he said: “That ain’t natural.”

“Ah, yeah, uhm, sorry ‘bout that. I’d’ve warned ya, but I don’t think you’d’ve believed me.” Jonny replied, “Anyway, it’s been an honor to see ya again, Jack, but we’re gonna have ta go.”

“How do you know my name?” Jack asked, but Jonny didn’t react, because he was already running away as fast as he could. Something that became even harder when Jack followed them out the smithy and yelled: “Stop them!”

There weren’t many people on the streets, but enough to be bothersome as they immediately did what Jack had asked of them.

They managed to dodge most of the fire and keep running with the hits they had taken, but before they could get out and to the Aurora Jonny got body slammed by a man and went down.

Ashes was about to shoot him in the head, but Jonny yelled: “Stop.”

He gave the man trying to choke him a better look. “This’ll give me a pretty pay.” his dad said.

Jonny could only look at the man, who had ruined his life in bafflement as he chocked him. He had forgotten the amount of gray hairs and the manic look in his eyes. Jonny did not like how familiar that sight was from the mirror.

“We don’t have time for this, Jonny.” Ashes said, kicking his dad of him and pulling Jonny up.

He went up willingly and was about to follow after Ashes when the sudden need to say something made him turn around. His dad was stumbling to his feet as Jonny said: “You’ve gotta listen to me, ‘kay. Look after ya boy, you gotta keep an eye on ‘em, promise me.”

“Why’d I promise you anythin’?” his dad asked him and he could smell the whiskey from here.

Deciding to just fuck it he said: “Because it’s me, dad. I ain’t from ‘round now and if you ain’t gonna look after me, you’re gonna loose me to Jack.”

“Why should I care if I loose that pest. That boy’s been nothin’ but trouble.” his dad told him, not even blinking at his harsh words.

Behind them Tim and Ashes shot at other pursuers. Jonny took a shaky breath as he remembered why he’d never felt bad about killing his father. He gave the man a steel cold gaze and said: “Good luck dyin’ then.”

And decked him in the face, letting him collapse onto the dirt with a smack, before running out of there as he tried to keep the tears in. He didn’t stop walking, not when they reached the Aurora, not when Marius asked if they’d succeeded, not when he felt the Aurora shuddered as she took off. He only stopped in his room where he crawled under the blankets and curled up into a ball.

Back at the entrance the others looked at Ashes and Tim. Both shook their heads sadly and Ashes said: “It’s probably best not to bring this up.”

“What happened then?” Brain asked.

“We had a bit of a run in with a few people.” Tim answered, “Jack, little Jonny, his dad.”

Some of the others cringed in sympathy, they could imagine how that went down, especially under the circumstances they’d returned.

“The only good thing was Jonny with a New Texas accent, but I don’t even get to make fun of him about that later.” Tim told them.

Everyone jumped on the chance of a new topic and Raphaella asked: “Oh, what then? What did he say? Can you do an impression?”

Tim thought about everything he’d heard Jonny said, before badly impersonating: “We’ll go, no problem, sir. We’dn’t seen, ya know. My friends ain’t from ‘round ‘ere like ya guessed. I’ll set them straight. We don’t mean to bother y’all.”

No one asked for the context and all just laughed when Ashes added: “‘m so sorry ‘bout ‘im, sir. He ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed, he sure didn’t mean it tha’ way.”

And after that it was never brought up again. Jonny joined them again a week later, giving them suspicious looks that fell away when he realized that no one was going to mention the red eyes and the smeared makeup as he got some new bottles from the kitchen.

They just sailed on to the next planet, wreaking havoc like always.

[smartguyreviewed]

2x4 - Dateline

Original air date: Oct 1, 1997

Anyone who was holding their breath for me to get back to this, thank you. Been going through a lot like most people right now but I had to remember this blog is a good distraction because I get to write about one of my favorite shows growing up. Anyways, enjoy. :) 

Let’s talk about cock-blocking or to be more gender inclusive...actually, I can’t think of a term similar that utilizes both a male and female part. Anyhoo, let’s talk about it.

I’ve done it (unintentionally). You’ve done it. We’ve all had it done to us as well. Like the night you finally got a chance to be alone with your dipshit crush and your annoying friend tried to insert herself until she finally realized what was going on and left you two alone so you could have your first kiss ever at age 19.

TJ is an extreme cock blocker. He will break your shit up and then pout because he’s still just a kid. Normally, TJ only wants to punish Marcus by enacting this cruel tactic but in this episode, he shifts gears to the person who is both a mother and father to him: Daddy Flody.

We begin this episode at a supermarket. Tj is checking out cereals and Floyd is checking out dat ass.

TJ catches Floyd staring and in his precocious little way, starts asking him questions about women. It kind of reminds me of Frank from Milk Money. which is a horrible movie that I adore and you should watch it because despite a little kid befriending a prostitute, it’s still a decent 90s coming-of-age tale. And Alex DeLarge is in it.

After TJ makes his dad sweat further by asking what body type gets his penis erect, TJ comes to the conclusion that Floyd is lonely and could probably benefit from some female companionship.

Cut to TJ on an unrealistically chatty PC barking at TJ to fill in the boxes for Floyd. I don’t know about you, but if my computer kept talking to me, I’d throw it out of the fucking window. I am so glad websites that talk at you are obsolete. Apparently, this computer is also sentient because TJ pauses for just a moment too long when Marcus comes in and this impatient computer bitch asks for the rest of the info in a more demanding tone.

But because TJ was distracted, he inputs his own height instead of his dad’s and the computer announces that she’s transferring him to their little people’s section. Hey, they gotta find love too!

Marcus is skeptical of why TJ is trying to set Floyd up. Just then, Yvette walks in and asks who is using her eyeliner to write down phone messages, which I totally expect a straight man to do. After fessing up, Marcus asks Yvette to dissuade TJ from setting up his dad. Yvette then uses her soon-to-be psychology degree on Marcus and reasons that he might be a little salty because he doesn’t want another woman to replace his mom. But no, Marcus is a teenage boy and completely lacking depth until certain episodes call for it. Instead, he says he just wants the car on weekend evenings so he can try to bang his latest girl of the week. Of course, he could just be deflecting to avoid a heavy conversation but I’m gonna go with the former because Marcus is the horniest boy on the show.

Yvette decides to help TJ since Floyd has few dating options. Her plan is to beef up his personal ad by making him younger and a fan of soul food and Maya Angelou. Marcus is still not with the shits and says that nobody wants to date an “old guy with three kids.” Completely forgetting about the fact that his dad is an attractive man, this happens instead:

TJ and the gang are now making final cuts on the 130 prospects Floyd had. I mean, that’s great and all but I’m sure at least half of those women were catfishes. Then again, in the 90s, maybe there was more legitimacy since there wasn’t enough technology to hide behind? I dunno. But Floyd definitely has some options.

While deliberating who will receive the clock from Floyd, Marcus makes what would be considered a transphobic comment questing if some of them really are women and how he doesn’t want Floyd to end up like Eddie Murphy. Mo, on the other hand is questing if this is even legal. Mo is a teenage boy and is probably likening it to what Tinder now is: a place to meet horny individuals.

Yvette thinks the ladies are good picks but then begins nitpicking their flaws, among one of them being that one of the ladies has breast implants. Because women who get surgeries to help boost their self esteem apparently don’t deserve love? Yvette is such a hypocrite as we’ll see in the future. Mo then begins taking the rejected pics because he loves older women, especially ones with perceived low self esteem. Just then, Floyd comes in the room and the gang has to cover up their dirty work. Floyd makes a bad joke and then dips out.

They eventually settle on a light-skinned natural woman named Jamie. They agree to meet at the grocery store, sot hat’s where we end up. Marcus is acting like he’s never seen pretty girls outside of school and leaves to spit game at women who just wanna be left alone so they can buy their frozen pizza and wine in peace.

Jamie sees who she thinks is her suitor and immediately is pissed because she, you know, thought she’d be meeting Floyd and not a little boy. Yvette comes over to smooth things over and convinces Jamie to meet Floyd. Well, TJ’s cute face convinced her after she was understandably freaked out. They go to meet Floyd. 

Jamie shows up and explains what happened and that she was pre-screened to make sure she wasn’t a guy. Floyd actually even gives her an up and down look before she says she passed! Pretty sure this also wouldn’t go over well today. Jamie and Floyd, however, hit it off and leave to go on a date. When they get back, Yvette and TJ are spying on the new couple to see how it went. Floyd was actually bigging up TJ and talking about how smart he is to Jamie when they got in. Aww. Floyd is proud of his son for hooking him up. Yvette is noticeably annoyed at how he gets all of the credit, but I mean, it was his idea. Yvette just helped him out. 

Upon completion of this totally selfless act to get his father some love, TJ is happy at first. Yay TJ! You’re on the right track to becoming a thoughtful human be--

Sike! TJ immediately regrets this decision once he realizes that his father having a personal life means that he won’t see him as much. TJ has a basketball game coming up that Floyd won’t be able to attend now. Yvette offers to take him but it’s not the same because Yvette is a girl and girls aren’t fun. And just like that, TJ the petty, cock-blocking asshole comes back.

The next day, TJ and Floyd are playing basketball when Jamie comes home. Floyd invites her to play but TJ is all like “bitch, wait your turn” and then Floyd puts her on TJ’s team. She then bribes TJ with the food she’s about to cook for them. He agrees but then Jamie and Floyd start flirting because duh. TJ leaves in a jealous fit, upset that this woman he hooked his father up with has the gall to want to spend time with him. He simulates what he wants to do to her body on a bag of Funions.

I have to say though, how long was the frame of this episode? Days? Weeks? Jamie has essentially become their stepmom. She’s even giving Marcus advice on how to treat a girl like a human being instead of a meat popsicle with titties. Yvette and Marcus then leave, allowing Jamie and Floyd their Blockbuster and Chill time with The Preacher’s Wife.

But TJ is a boner detector because as soon as Jamie and Floyd are about to mash faces, TJ whimpers for his pa because he doesn’t feel good. We think Floyd banished him to his room but then TJ comes over and pushes the two would-be lovers apart so he can ruin their night. Jamie eventually decides to leave, even though it’s clear she was holding out in case she could get a piece of Floyd but TJ completely squashed that possibility. Floyd actually whines when Jamie says she’s leaving. Aww. Floyd is lonely. Does TJ care? Of course not. 

TJ sounds perfectly fine when he says he’s sorry he ruined the night. Father and son decide to just watch the movie together instead.

The next day at school, Marcus is spitting his game at the girl he went on a date with. Turns out, treating women like actual people has been working well for him! He’s even going on a second date. Yvette comes by to let TJ know that she’s picking him up again. TJ is, of course, pissed because Jamie had come over to the house the night before, albeit dick-less. Yvette has to explain to TJ that when you date someone, the goal is to see them frequently and that he’s the reason their last date sucked. She then shatters Marcus’s dreams by letting him know that Floyd is taking his car on his date. Guess Marcus is gonna have to make out on the bus.

TJ’s lips are all puckered because he’s losing his father to another woman. He’s so distressed that he actually picks a fight with a senior. Mo steps in and literally drags TJ home. No, seriously. He carried TJ like a bag of groceries all the way to the Henderson house during school. Then he transformed into a therapist to get to the root of TJ’s outburst. This is during school hours. Mo skipped school to bring TJ home and give Floyd advice. Mo is amazing.

TJ is playing basketball with himself when Floyd comes in and then he spills that he’s sick of Jamie. Floyd reminds TJ that he’s the one who set them up and I guess TJ didn’t know things would actually change. Now would have been a good time to mention if he feels some way about another woman besides Yvette playing a maternal figure in the wake of his mother’s never explained death. But Floyd does a good job as usual and says this is temporary because when TJ is a teenager, he won’t want anything to do with Floyd. TJ finally stops being a prick and Floyd offers to be careful about how he schedules his time and then continues the basketball game he let Jamie interrupt previously. Aww Floyd. Too bad TJ is probably going to hold onto this for a while because he was giving his dad a lot of shit in the end credits. This isn’t even the last time he does this to Floyd and we never see Jamie again, so I guess it’s safe to assume that TJ killed Jamie. 

Things I noticed:

- Can we just take a moment to appreciate how hot Floyd is? How could Marcus ever think his dad wouldn’t be able to attract women?

- This brilliant cover for the gang if Floyd came in during the date deliberation:

- Marcus doesn’t want Floyd to go out on dates because he wants the car to himself on the weekends. He says if Floyd starts going out, he’s making out in the back of the bus. Yvette then says, “No, thanks to Rosa Parks, you can make out anywhere on the bus.” Brilliant retort. I really hand it to the writers of this show.