#preppy girlfriend material

[staycatcher]

@deukaeloveclub 🌻

JOY 🌻 SUNFLOWER, FANCON 240803

[fertilize-my-eggs]

Unknown number ch.2

Rizzing up the creepy woman

Ch.1 ch.3 ch.4 A03

A/n: I know I'll say I take a break but I work on this a few days ago, I hope y'all enjoy this chapter ^.^ I'll take a break and come back don't worry everyone. I just don't want to be burned out in writing.

I don't know how she got my phone number, I sigh as I'm walking on the walkway. At least she's given me some material to jack off.

“ eww it's the other freak. "Two girls start to speed walk away from me as I sigh heavily.

Everyone has been like this since I joined this college. I thought everyone was going to change and be mature adults but they still act the same like they were in highschool.

As I'm walking to class, I immediately spotted you hiding in the shadows as I chuckle to myself, are you trying to stalk me? I'm a pro with that, I like how you're skittish like a black cat got shy towards people.

I smirk as I watch you ducked away behind the wall.

“ come out come out little bunny.~ ” I coo at you as I did a come here motions towards you.

You immediately move fast as you speed walk towards me, you start to blush as you look downward.

“ sorry… for bothering you mr.shigaraki I-” I made a tsk sound.

“ no need to be formal with a last name doll, call me tomura. ” you nodded your head as you began to blush.

“ okay tomura. ”

“ What a pretty little thing doing alone and following me? ” I smirk at you as you begin to wide your eyes.

“ huh? Uhh I wasn't following you. ”

“ uh-huh sure, I know you were following me, don't lie cutie.~ ” you stare at me with a shocked expression.

“ Okay fine… I was… I was gonna tell you about the project for this week since we're working on it together. ”

I sigh as I think about it, I hum quietly.

“ yeah that… let's not worry about it and we'll work on it later. How the hell did you get my phone number? ” I stare at you with a serious tone as you yelp.

“ Ok fine, it was Keigo who was the one who gave me your number, I couldn't help it… I just wanted you to notice me. ” ugh that preppy popular hawk that dabi always hangs around with… makes sense but why would he do that?

“ How did he give you the number? ” I raise my brow at you, you look away feeling embarrassed.

“ He told me that you need a girlfriend and get laid so he was telling me to send you some nudes and that you would look at me differently. "Of course that bastard told you that. I begin to sighed as I look at you.

“ well you got my attention alright… you're pretty hot in those videos. ” you quickly feel your cheek getting red as you nod your head.

“ yeah… may I see your nudes? ” I began to blush as I realized what if you don't like me in that kind of way after knowing that I'm trans and not a man.

“ uhh I'm not sure. ”

You nodded your head as you start to feel regret by the picture.

“ I'm sorry for calling your phone multiple times, I got too excited in class.. ” I nodded my head as I rubbed your soft hair.

“ it's fine sweetie.. it's caught me off guard hahaha. ” as I look down at you as you begin to have puppy dog eyes as you grab my arms closer to you as you deeply inhale my scent.

“ You smell really good, are we boyfriend and girlfriend? ” I tilt my head as I think well no one wants to come near her and everyone sees her as plague whenever she walks by.

I smirk.” yeah as long as you're mine and stay with me forever bunny.~ ”

“ mhmm yes~!! I'll be yours forever tomu~” I smile as we walk to class, I look at your eyes then slowly to your lips, I want to kiss you so bad.

You pulling my waist as you sigh dreamily, I realized you can be very touchy as I feel your hands moving on my body parts, your cute eyes and the way you pout whenever you talking about how you been having a crush on me since she's join this college, we're close to grades and age.

I smile as I say.” how about we skip class and head to my dorm for a bit, that class isn't important. ” you blink your eyes fast as you tilt your head.

“ Are you sure? ” I nodded my head as I put my fingers on your chin.

“ Yeah, your video makes me feel some kind of way. ” you begin to giggle as you cover your cheek.

As we were heading to the directions of my dorm, I quickly texted my professor that I had important business to tend to, she understands as I begin to smirk.

We getting closer as I begin to grabbed your titties area as I bite your neck, you gasp as you moan out, I put my hand down to your pants as I feel you, I watch people around were shocked and quickly look away but it's like car crash, they couldn't believe that two of the freaks are together and touching in public.

I moved away as I licked my lips as I was gonna to pull the door only for Touya to open it.

He began to smirk as I knew what he was thinking.” ohh so you did bag her? I'm an impressed freak. ” I rolled my eyes as I narrowed my eyes.

“ Whatever, go out and get whores since you belong in the streets dabi.” you giggle by that comment as he growls at me as he lean in.

“ asshole. ”

“ dickhead ”

“ tsk.. at least I have a father and you-. ”

“ go suck your daddy's dick since you're so obsessed with him and want him. ” dabi narrowed his eyes as he grumbled lowly and he stomped off.

“ fuck off, I'm going with hawks for blunts. ” I rolled my eyes as I laughed at him, he's so annoying, I swear.

As we head inside as I look into your eyes.

“ Look y/n there's something I want to tell you and I don't know how you're going to handle this.” you put your hands on top of mine as you smile softly.

“ I'll still love you no matter what tomura.”

“ promise? ” You nodded your head as you smiled.

“ I promise!! ” I smile as I look at your lips then to your eyes.

“ I'm trans…. I was born a female then translated into a male, I hope you don't find it disgust-...” my eyes widened in shock as I felt something soft pressed against my lips, you kiss me.

You pull away as you smile at me with full of love as you pull me closer.

“ I don't care, I still love you no matter what tomura.~ you're the one that I'm attracted to and don't care about the gender you are. ”

I begin to smile as I pull you close, I begin to kiss your lips, it's soft and passionate as I slide my tongue into your mouth.

“ Do you wanna continue this gameplay be my player two? ”

You moan out loud as you grip my hoodie.

” Yes please!! ”

[shares-a-vest]

Platonic Stobin Month, Day 9: Outfit Swap

Prompt List

Even before Robin became friends with Steve Harrington, she knew the dude was vain. Hell, one of his nicknames throughout high school was The Hair. She'd watch him from afar fix that hair all the time, only surfacing from sleeping at the back of Mrs Clicks' class to readjust his locks and carry out a wordless flirt session with Tammy Thompson.

After becoming friends with Steve, Robin quickly learned he is what she can only describe as a fashionista. The dude had coordinated shoes for that stupid sailor's outfit, remember? So of course he has a closet filled floor to ceiling with clothes and complementary accessories.

But that wardrobe is, is not-so-tidy. Like, at all. In fact, most of the time it is bursting at the seams because Steve enjoys buying clothes and dares not repeat whole ensembles.

Plus he's the worst, a complete menace when it comes to borrowing (and never returning) clothes. What's worse is he never remembers borrowing things in the first place, insisting all the random, sometimes ill-fitting and definitely not-Steve clothes are in fact his.

Case in point: Robin is standing at his unorganised built-in closet, having trekked from the bus stop just outside Loch Nora with her duffle bag on a mission to get all her stuff back he's borrowed since the Summer of 1985. And yeah sure, Robin borrowed her fair share of jackets, jeans and general dude-attire from Steve. But she always gave it back, hand-delivered on time and freshly cleaned.

Her breaking point was an oversized (fitted on Steve) black jacket with patches she'd sewn all over, customised to her liking. A jacket that was hers in every way. A jacket perfect to take to Indy on an upcoming trip with Nancy.

Steve had asked to borrow it months ago in some feeble attempt to impress a certain equally rabies-infected brain-dead idiot named Eddie Munson.

Speaking of the (not according to his acquittal via a secret government) devil, she pulls a Corroded Coffin cut-off right out of Steve's top drawer. She spins around to face her best friend with a quizzical eye, despite holding a solid piece of literal boyfriend material in her boney hands.

"That's mine," Steve says, startled and leaning forward to snatch it up with a swift swoop of his hand.

"Ah yes, because you're always wearing Corroded Coffin shirts," she shoots back, rolling her eyes. "Totally goes with your whole preppie-jock vibe."

"I sleep in it," Steve retorts, hugging it to his chest as he resumes sitting criss-cross applesauce and looking if it the excuse hasn't dug him in deeper.

Robin resumes her search and locates a baby pink sweater that could only belong to one pretty girl named Nancy. She tosses it at her duffle bag, smirking at the possibility of impressing her girlfriend with a long-lost item of clothing.

"Soooo?" she sings a few minutes later as she spots the thinnest pair of jeans she's ever seen.

"Yes, Rob?" Steve sings back, the sarcastic eye roll evident in his voice.

She spins again to find Steve laying back on his hideous bedspread. She dramatically unfurls the denim with a flick, gaining his attention.

"Those are mine," Steve splutters, reaching haphazardly for the jeans but misses, almost toppling over the edge of the bed.

"Really?" she barks, narrowing her eyes. "Now I have to sort through Munson's stinky clothes too?"

Steve makes a face, somewhere between a pout and his signature bitch look he gives when the Dork Squad is nagging.

"Okay so," he huffs, leaning back on his pillows. "Maybe Eds has some clothes here. So what? We hang out all the time!"

He gestures in the air as he talks, not doing himself any favours in order to sound convincing.

"Hmm, sounds like you're dating."

"But-"

"Nope," she cuts him off, popping the 'p'. "I'm not arguing with you about this again, Steve. I'm already on the verge of wanting to claw you into submission about this damn jacket."

"I don't have it!" he whines.

"Yes, you do!" she argues back, admittedly sounding equally whingey.

God, Robin doesn't even get like this with her own brother. She sighs, fluttering her eyes shut as she makes what she assumes is a calming zen pose before returning to the labyrinthine closet.

"I'm going to be so pissed if this jacket is crushed up in here or folded in half over a hanger. I swear to God, Steve!"

She spots a maroon sweater, eyes widening even though now is probably not a great time to request borrowing an article of clothing. Although it looks too small for Steve anyway... So maybe... Wait.

She whips around.

"Hey, I thought we cleared out all your old clothes when we were making up donation boxes after Vecna tore Hawkins a new one?"

"Please don't say his name," Steve begs, pinching his nose until he catches a glimpse of the clothing in her hand and his eyes widen. "Shit."

"What?" she frowns, holding the sweater up to her body.

Yep. It'll fit.

"Yeah, sure," Steve says, waving his hand, not at all sounding casual as he puffs out a nonchalant breath. "Have it."

"Whose is it?" she queries, stepping closer and jumping square on the bed to pin Steve down and loom over him.

The move knocks a breath out of him and Steve just lays there, all wide-eyed with worry as he gawks at the deep red knitted sweater. Robin tosses it to the side and stares him down, all the while Steve does nothing but nervously chew at his bottom lip. So she tickles him, sending Steve into a fit of whining giggles.

"Noooooo," he chokes.

"Tell me whose sweater this is, Steve?" she demands through laughs, nodding in the direction of the item in question.

"No! Please."

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes, dingus! Spill!"

"It's Tommy's, okay!" he admits, rolling on the spot and successfully flipping Robin off him, leaving her scrambling for the sweater.

He throws a hand over his face as he flops back on the mattress.

"Details!" she insists, making grabby hands like it's the only thing that could possibly satiate her at this moment.

Steve screws his eyes shut. He runs panicked hands through his hair as he focuses his breathing. After a moment he finally opens his mouth and what comes out is pure, unadulterated word vomit.

"One night after a party, Tommy stayed over and we were high and stuff and then we kissed," he pauses to suck in another breath. "Then we were totally making out and I took my shirt off then he took this stupid sweater off. But we were way too high turns out and stopped. We forgot about it and he left the sweater here, rushing off the following morning. Then I was with Nance and all the Upside Down shit happened and Tommy and I weren't friends anymore. And..."

He trails off into a huff and yanks the maroon sweater from Robin’s hands.

"Yeah," she starts through gritted teeth, creeping off the bed. "If it’s Hagan’s, I do not want it. Also, lesson learned. I don't want to hear about your various escapades in this bed. Seriously, I sleep here too, y'know?"

She makes her way back to the closet as Steve curls in on himself, groaning. And from an ever-so-slightly distant view, Robin spots her jacket, hanging thoughtfully amongst Steve’s Members Only jacket and... a costume that looks like it belongs at a Renaissance Fair.

"What the hell is that!" she screeches.

[mysterymirrors]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Nike Running Epic Run Tight Fit Bike Shorts - Black -XS.

[rusclover]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: 925 Sterling Silver Hug Hands Stacking Ring.

[a-supernatural-writer]

hcs for poly! tlb with a fem! s/o who’s style is dark academia and is really blunt/logical and smart. she basically gives off a ‘mysterious, quiet, dark, critical’ vibe (she also doesn’t really know how to handle people who are extremely emotional and she doesn’t know how to soothe someone. she’s just really oblivious/clueless when it comes to others feelings). i’m so sorry if what i requested doesn’t make sense or if it was too much. i am seriously incapable of writing anything without making it look like an essay lmao. love your work btw 💕✨

Dark Academia Fem! S/O 

Poly Lost Boys x Fem reader

I had so much fun writing this! I love the dark academia aesthetic! And it made perfect sense and it wasn’t too much! Having a lot actually helps me expand and write more so thank you. And I’m the same, once I have an idea, I write a lot, so you’re all good! And awww!!! Thank you!!! 💗💗✨✨ I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoy!

Okay, so you are very different compared to the large number of characters on the boardwalk. Your style consisted of button shirts, sweaters or turtle necks, dress pants or a plaid pleated skirts, cardigans or waistcoats, oxford shoes or even wire framed glasses if you wore them for seeing or just for the look. 

To say that you caught the boys attention would be an understatement. You seemed to stand out amongst the crowd and they became curious. You were a mystery to them and they love the challenge. 

Somehow, someway, after days or weeks later, you became good friends which soon lead to you dating four trouble making punks. It was tough on both parts, but it happened, and hey, you weren’t complaining. 

You were very blunt when you first met them, not really interested in them and more or less interested in the book in your hands. It took a lot of “accidental” run ins to even get you to hang out with them. 

You slowly opened up when they offered to take you out for dinner at a local diner. They’re constant joking soon had you letting out small, almost whisper-like giggles and tiny smiles that sent them into a frenzy. 

When you would start talking about yourself, your ideas of fun were different from theirs. You liked museums, opera houses, bookstores and going to theaters to see plays. The games you played were chess and cards, and the music you listened to was old. You were pretty sure they thought you were boring but you actually peaked their interest. 

After a while of being friends with them, they asked you out. You liked them and the only logical step was to see if you liked them the same way they liked you was to date them, so you said yes. 

In general, them having a girlfriend with a 1940s/1950s dark prep look was fun. David and Dwayne like it the most. Paul next, then Marko. 

David actually really likes picking out your clothing on most days. You have an extensive collection of clothing with material from cashmere to linen, all the colors consisting of browns, black, cream and even a little dark green. 

His favorite thing to put you in is trench coats. Doesn’t matter what color it is, he just likes seeing you in them. Also, there are a handful of times that he has MADE you wear his trench coat. Yeah it almost swimmed on you, but he thought it made you look cute and it fit in perfectly with your look. 

Dark academia isn’t only your style, but it’s your way of life. David is the one that plays chess with you. You had to reteach it to him and pretty soon, the two of you had your own little set up in the cave that was always ready for a game of chess. 

David is sort of like you… in a way when it comes to others feelings. But deep down he knows that he really likes you and tries to show it the best he can. He took you to a theater to see a play that you were constantly talking about and so he took you on a date. You being you, didn’t realize that’s what it was until he told it straight to your face. Let’s just say you were speechless for the next hour. 

Also, when it’s just the two of you, deep inside the cave where your nest is, classical music is playing from your record player. It could be Beethoven, Tchaikovsky or Mozart. Whoever it is, David is the one that will listen to it with you the most. I think he really enjoys classical music and he enjoys it even more if the two of you are cuddling in your bed. 

Occasionally Dwayne would join the two of you. You would be sitting in between David’s legs as Dwayne sat in between yours, his head leaning back against your chest. It was like a cuddle pile… cuddle train?? Whatever you wanted to call it, it was cuddling while the three of you relaxed listening to classical music. And it was darn cute. 

Dwayne loves listening to you go on and on about any books you were reading at the moment. Whether or not it was nonfiction or even about any type of history. He was down. He lived through a lot and he knew about half of the stuff you gushed on about, but for some odd reason, it never bored him when you talked about it. 

He would be the one to get you new books, leaving you sweet little notes tied to them. Of course you thought it was just him being nice and thanked him for it without thinking there was any romantic meaning behind it. Yeah he was one of your boyfriends but it never really crossed your mind that way. He would just shake his head at your obliviousness and give you a small peck on the lips. 

Don’t ask him why, but his favorite look on you is a light cream colored blouse with a plaid skirt and Mary Jane shoes. Dwayne is a leg man so… he’s very happy when decide to show off some skin if you decide not to wear knee-socks or stockings with it. Even if you did wear them, he would still be attached to your side the entire night. 

Like David, Dwayne would bring you out to a lot of places that were opened late at night. If there was an art exhibition in town or even a museum that was open late, just say the word and he will happily drive you on his bike. Heck, David might even tag along. 

Also, late night bookstore dates… oh my heart, it’s too sweet it hurts. There are times that he does have to throw you over his shoulder when the bookstore is closing and you're pretty much refusing to leave. When he does that, you just stay frozen over his shoulder, not knowing if you should be blushing or cursing at him for carrying you like a sack of potatoes. 

If anything, you and Dwayne connect very well. You’re naturally very quiet and so is he. Not much is said between you two but there's a mutual understanding that can’t be explained. While the others are out causing trouble, you and him are on the sidelines watching hand in hand or your reading and he's just staring at you as you do so. 

Paul and Marko kind of give you whiplash. They’re loud and rowdy and definitely 100% opposite from you. But they interested you. They had a very chaotic outlook on life which made you ask many questions. 

Paul found your look sexy. He’s horny and you give off preppy school vibes, he’s living for it 24/7. Constant teasing of you giving him ‘private lessons’ which results with you whacking a book against the back of his head. But it doesn’t stop the reddening of your ears which doesn’t make him stop.  

This man is also your designated jewelry expert. You only wear some accessories and they're very simple. So you are very surprised when Paul finds you jewelry that is your style and collects it for you. You like leather watches, guess what, he’s got it for you. You want some fancy victorian looking brooches, he’s got that too. Simple rings with a single jewel in the middle, expect constant ‘will you marry me’ jokes, but he gets you the best.

Also, he’s not overly big into your music selection. He does try to get you into his type of music, which you only like very few and far between. But when you do get him to listen to your type of music, it’s only if you agree to listen to his music the next night. You guys come up with a system and decide to switch every few nights. 

Each of the boys have their favorite look on you and Paul's is when you wear a button-up of any color with a simple black tie, a pencil skirt and a pair of Dr.Marten boots. He especially likes the tie… for reasons. God damn it, you know the reasons, get out of here. 

He’s a very affectionate boy and he finds your looks over confusion some of the cutest shit he’s ever seen. Probably the first one to tell you that he loves you and you honestly like glitched out. Did you feel the same way? Yes, but poor little thing you doesn’t say it right away, but Paul knows that you aren’t really used to saying things like that without warming up to it. Which is okay. He knows even if you don’t say it. 

He definitely steals one of your blazers to put pins on it. Marko helps, putting a few patches on it that they both know you would like. It’s the one item that stands out in all of your clothing and you will wear it if they ask you to. 

Marko definitely thinks the look is cute and it suits you very well, but why no color?! You wear dark colors but nothing bright like the colors that are on his jacket. He tries to slip in some colorful clothing into your everyday look, it never goes as planned but you give him an A for effort. 

He loves how dark you can be at times though. You want to go to a local graveyard just because? Sure! Let’s go! He’s your designated graveyard buddy. You have many date nights there, looking at all the different gravestones and finding it interesting when you jot down some names in one of your notebooks. 

Speaking of notebooks, you have many of them. They were filled with notes from books you’ve read, real life observations or even just some random poetry and short stories that you wrote. Marko would go through them a lot and even sometimes draw little doodles or rough sketches that were thought up from your writings. 

When you spend nights down at the Boardwalk, your go to drink isn’t a slushie or a milkshake or even a soda. It’s coffee or tea. Yeah, and only Marko knows your drink orders by heart. None of the others seem to remember them correctly which you thank them for trying but Marko has got them all beat. 

Marko likes seeing you in sweaters and in your trousers or linen shorts with chelsea boots. If anything, when the two of you are alone, just wearing a knit sweater and shorts were perfect for him. He likes how cozy and warm you look. He’s very happy when he cuddles you and you are warm. 

Now when they tell you that they’re vampires, you think that they’re joking. Vampires aren’t real, they’re a work of fiction. Yes there was a real man named Dracula, but there was no way that they were actual vampires. 

Then they showed you hard proof and then there was no denying it at that point. Instead of running away, you were fascinated. You wanted to understand your boyfriends vampire ways that lead to you conducting extensive research and a notebook dedicated to them. 

They showed you everything about them, how they feed, to which you didn’t bat an eyelash of watching them feed one night. You were one morbid chick but they saw that as a plus that you didn’t react. You had graveyard dates for crying out loud, nothing really surprised them at that point.

Flying came next and they had a lot of fun showing you just how high they could go with you in their arms. You never screamed at the height, you were too caught up in seeing the overhead view of the town. You could get used to seeing a view like that every night.  

Then came the other things; how they slept before you came along, what actually hurt them and what didn’t. There was one time that you stared at their vampire faces for hours because you were taking notes on how their facial features changed. 

Soon you had to stock up on more turtlenecks because of the many bite marks they would leave behind from feeding on you if the weather was bad one night. It wasn’t tough adapting to their occasional feeding. A lot of your clothing already covered up your skin so it was easy to hide from people on your nights out. 

Not too long after, they popped the question. Would you want to be a vampire? Live forever, never grow up? Be with them for all eternity? You didn’t really need to think about it for too long, you knew what your answer was and so did they even if you didn’t say it out loud. You loved your boys and not much would change.

When you did change, it was entertaining for them to watch. You soon started taking down notes about your progress, comparing and contrasting your experience to their own. 

To the eyes of many, you became even more dark and mysterious. You had an aura around you that drew people in, it’s what got you your four vampire boyfriends, only now, it brought in your meal for the night.

[commajade]

literally my first impression of irene&seulgi subunit was "is this. are they trying to be preppy ayabambi." because look at the material.

aya and bambi were a longtime couple that broke up recently that were famous for their couple routines and looking similar on purpose

irene and seulgi's entire concept is girlfriend twins....

[eliosdump]

“I’m not gay!” Steve Harrington x Male!Reader

Author’s Note: This is my first smut fanfic in awhile, and on tumblr. But I used to write on Wattpad before it went to shit. That being said I’m still pretty rusty, so take this with a grain of salt and Happy late Pride Month!

⏤͟͟͞͞ | Stranger Things

⏤͟͟͞͞ | Genre: NSFW Smut

⏤͟͟͞͞ | Word Count: 1,646

⏤͟͟͞͞ | Warnings: Mature Language, A slight bit of homophobia6, General Sexual Behavior, Bottom!MaleReader, Top!SteveHarrington, Unprotected Sex, Internalized Homophobia

⏤͟͟͞͞ | Summery: You end up on a night shift with Mr. Popular, Steve Harrington. After a couple of hours, you end up doing some small talk with the popular fruity fella.

---

Steve was the one most popular guys in school. Everyone adored him, he was almost like Jesus. You saw him in the hallways while he waved at everyone, even sometimes making eye contact with you. Of course you never spoke, either never having nothing to speak about, or simply just because of your “social status” at Hawkins High. You didn't really care much of it though, but constantly being called fag in the hallways was quite bothersome. The only reason a rumor of you being gay spread around though the school was because, people said that you were peeking at guys in the locker room. Which was obviously false, and disgusting. You just tripped in the shower room at the wrong time and everyone assumed you were a perv.

You never really even put on a label on it, or even corrected people when they called you gay. It got to point whether either you stopped caring or maybe it was true. Of course gay was wrong, but sometimes you'd find yourself staring at Steve and other guys wondering, how it'd feel to have their soft lips on yours instead of their preppy girlfriends. Or catching yourself staring at the male underwear models on magazines that your mother had.

But, that was over now. You finally graduated Hawkins High, with a big smile on your face. Now looking for a quick job for your gap year, you find yourself applying for a job at the Star Court Mall, called Scoops Ahooy. Finally getting accepted you go in, for your day of basic training. And to your surprise, Steve Harrington was working there too, and he was going to be your trainer.

---

“Alright, y/n.. *y/n* is that how you pronounce it?” Steve says cheerly, looking up at you as he grabs the scooper.

“Yes..” You manage to whisper out, looking at the floor, you fiddle with your fingers as all the silly thoughts of kissing him in high school flooded back into your mind.

“So First!” Steve paused putting the scooper down, and looking at you. He came closer and tilted your head so you made eye contact with him. “We're gonna have to work on that eye contact… if it was me I wouldn't care, but the supervisor is kinda a pain in the ass, and he said he pay me a couple more bucks if I’d train you.” Steve rambled, as you slowly felt your face turning a bit red, as no one has ever gotten that close to you before.

“Next, I'm gonna need you to speak a bit louder. They also require us to say this stupid greeting but we'll learn about that later..”

Before you knew it, it was closing time and the mall was completely empty. It was just you and Steve.

“Alright, so cleaning is quite easy. I'm just gonna have you wash the dishes, and I'll mop as it does get quite sticky around here. All the gross kids. Uck.” He complained as he grabbed the materials from the back. You headed to the back as well, beginning your task.

After finishing, you find yourself walking to the front part of the tiny ice cream parlor, looking for Steve.

“Steve?” You say, looking around. Unbeknownst to you, Steve had just mopped that area. And he was planning to scare you, as soon as you turned the corner to the next door. As you got closer and closer, Steve jumped out yelling boo.

You immediately slipped and falling on top of Steve. Your face bright red, but to afraid to move or make any action as you were on top of the Steve Harrington.

Steve began to laugh as he slowly pushed you off of him. “You should've seen your face man, that was hilarious!” He laughed as you rolled your eyes, both still on the ground. You cover your flustered face, embarrassed to even look back up at Steve.

He gets back up, offering his hand to you. “Why so red, y/n? You know I'm not gay.” He chuckled as you stand up looking at the ground, flustered as you wish that maybe something more had happened there.

“But…” Steve Harrington whispered, as he pushed you to the counter were he put his arm to your side and harshly grabbed your chin. “You are pretty cute, I'll give you that.” He smirked and walked to the back, taking some of the remaining supplies with him to put to storage. You felt like you were melting, never experiencing this much contact with a dude, or with a girl for that matter. You didn’t know what to think, as you felt you’re stomach starting to tingle and your heart skipping a beat.

As he was walking, you followed behind him not quite sure what to help him with next. Forgetting how wet the floor was, you slip and manage to scrape your arm on the corner of the counter. You wince as you land on the floor with a big thud.

“y/n?” You hear Steve yell out. “What the hell was that?” He rushes over to where you are only to find you on the floor with your arm cut.

“Jesus Christ, you are so clumsy.”

You let out a chuckle as you stand back up, Steve motions you to follow him to the back.

You two sit on some chairs that were in the back and he begins to fix you up with a dingy first aid kit that was found in the storage.

“This looks almost as old as the supervisor..” He jokes, cleaning your wound up.

You look up at him, as he looks so concentrated on your arm. You feel your stomach begin to catch butterflies and your cheeks heat up again. You stare in awe as you begin to realize that how Steve’s been so kind to you this whole day. Even with all the rumors about you in high school, he still treated you like a human being and showed you respect and kindness. If we ignore the gay jokes.

He finally notices you ogling at him, and he clears his throat making you instantly look down.

“You know, y/n? If you have a crush on me you can just say that..” Steve teases. You instantly shake your head no, and he laughs at your quick response.

“I’m not gay, personally...” Steve states again, with a smirk on his face. You sense him getting closer, accidentally bumping knees with you. He puts his hand on your thigh, softly teasing you. You almost touch noses, as he says, “… But for you, I’d make an exception..”

Whether it was the adrenaline in your veins, or the uncomfortable tightening in your pants, you pushed yourself forward meeting lips with the one and only Steve Harrington.

Not really knowing how to kiss you press your lips against his. Expecting him to push you away, he caresses your face deepening the kiss. The butterflies in your stomach beginning to flutter even more. You feel yourself getting hotter and hotter, just stepping back from the kiss for a couple second as you begin to finally breathe.

“So you *do* have a crush on me.” Steve joked, his breath getting heavy as well. You notice the bulge in his blue shorts. You push the chair back and get on your knees, not quite sure were you were gonna go with this. You got closer to his crotch and unzipped his pants where his cock poked a bit out of his boxers. Your heart was racing, you looked back up at Steve as He was looking at you with desperate eyes, biting his lip as he did so.

“Suck, y/n.” He pulled his shorts further down, along with his boxers, revealing his erect member. He pushed himself a bit forward so the tip would be at your lips. Not quite sure what to do, you put your mouth and begin to suck on the the tip of his throbbing cock.

“God dammit…” You hear Steve groan out, “Just like that.”

You licked the sides of his cock, loving the feeling of seeing Steve in such pleasure. You took your other hand and began thrusting his tip onto his mouth. The tightness in your shorts becoming unbearable, zip down your pants and letting your tip slip out a bit.

“Up. On my lap.”

You went up on Steves lap, your cocks slightly touching. You began slipping off your shorts and boxers finally having your cocks touch. Steve licked his hand and began jerking your sensitive cock up and down, you rolled your eyes back in pleasure, your knees feeling weak as he continued to get jerk faster.

“Steve,” You moaned out, “I think I’m gonna cum, Steve.” You breathed out, collapsing in his chest as he continued to go up and down and even stopped just to rub your pre-cum around your tip. He stopped abruptly, as he saw your breath getting heavier.

“Not yet.” He smiled, as he took in his hand both of the members and starting to frot the two sticky cocks together. You gripped his shirt, as you let out whimpers and moans. You manage to find the courage to whisper out, “This is pretty gay, Harrington.”

He instantly begins to jerk faster, finally feeling your climax coming.

“Cum.” You hear in between his moans. You instantly release, white strands touching your chin and shirt. Steve looks at your flushed face, slightly chuckling, as he begins his trotting comes to stop, only for him to come to an end. His white strands of cum, meeting your chin and lips as well.

“Let's clean up, and I'll be seeing you tomorrow.” Harrington says, with a flushed face as well. He winks and one last time, he makes sure you understand; “But just to be clear sweetheart, I’m not gay.”

[staycatcher]

@deukaeloveclub ❣️

tzuyu for l’officiel

[pergaias]

excerpts from books i’ll never write ; ii

the varying lengths of these excerpts mess with me  and my perfectionism istf - some are long, like this one, others are short, but hey - all of them lead to the same place. nowhere. 

this is the entire first chapter of a story that i will never finish so um - enjoy ?

title: checkmate word count: 3030

CHAPTER ONE

1.1 ‘YOU THINK YOU’RE FUNNY, RIGHT?’

“VENETIA VERNE, INTERN FOR The White Knight Herald.”

Venetia Verne was done. Done with her job-- being a reporter only sounded fun in theory-- done with her outfit-- what in the world was she thinking-- and of course, done with Octavia Tyrell.

Tavi. Her buttercup. 

Venetia was pretty sure her eyes were so swollen that her cry-fest would be painfully obvious, and was also pretty much positive that she looked like a wreck. 

Not even the fancy perfume she stole from Octavia last night would mask the smell of abject heartbreak.

Seventeen years old but acting twenty-three, Venetia always prided herself for being mature, collected, and a total bitch. 

Of course, the bitch part was usually used affectionately-- Tavi had always called her you bitch! as an endearment, just like the way Venetia used to squeeze her hand and whisper buttercup.

Seventeen years old, but acting twelve when it came to breakups.

“Right this way, Miss Verne,” a female assistant led her across the hall, and Venetia surreptitiously straightened her skirt out. She had chosen a dove-colored skirt and a very vintage white blouse-- vintage chic had always been her style, even though Tavi always pushed for her to look more preppy-glam.

As if. Octavia managed to look like Elle Woods but black-and-white. Venetia was stuck as a Forties poster ad.

“Thank you,” Venetia tried for a smile, but it came out vaguely grimace-like. Had she spent all night crying? Possibly. Was she tired of life, the universe, and everything? Also possibly.

For the record, the answer was not forty-two. Screw the flying dolphins and their musical number about fish.

The assistant nodded, her hair in a bun so tight that Venetia’s scalp sympathized. “Our director is quite excited to meet you, Miss Verne-- he says you’re the best in your generation, and our boss at the Herald has never been more excited about a high school prospect-- you must be doing something right.”

Venetia tried for another smile, but this one looked like a leer. The assistant smiled sympathetically, her heels clicking rhythmically against the tiled floor of the building. She was probably tired of everything, too-- the office had the feel of a morgue. 

As Venetia trailed behind her, her mind kept wandering to Tavi’s coily dark hair, her rich laugh, the way her brown eyes caught the light and turned to gold. Tavi’s lips on the other boy’s, her hands reaching up his shirt--

Venetia broke off. Octavia didn’t know she saw-- to Octavia, everything was still all well and good. Of course, Tavi was used to having everything she wanted. Spoiled, rich, princess bastard--

“We’re here, sweetie,” the assistant motioned to an imposing-looking door, a slightly condescending note to her voice. 

“I appreciate the concern, but it’s Venetia, love.” Venetia allowed herself a smirk at the now-shellshocked assistant before opening the door herself.

Venetia Verne had no interest in being polite or heterosexual. 

“Hi, Dad,” Venetia deadpanned, plopping down in front of the central feature of the office-- a heavy, fancy desk-- and all but putting her feet up. Today was just punch after punch after punch-- of course, Venetia could have rescheduled, but all that bitch energy had to go somewhere, right?

“Venetia.” Cyprian Jung looked no different from the day he divorced her mother, choosing a career and a fancy business conglomerate instead of a wife and tenacious daughter.

Let’s face it. Venetia was still just a little bit bitter. Just a little. 

“Hi. Venetia Verne, intern for the White Knight Herald.” Venetia kept her coy smile, putting emphasis on her mother’s surname. “My final high school project involves me reporting on the crimes of--”

“You’re reporting on the crimes of the White Queen?” her father’s face snapped up, dark hair and hawkish nose and slanted eyes the color of pond scum. 

“Yes,” Venetia said primly, her eyes narrowing. 

“Venetia, sweetheart,” 

“Don’t sweetheart me.” 

“Venetia.”

“Venetia what, Father?”

“Venetia, do you know why I let you interview me?” Cyprian sighed, stroking his nonexistent beard with two fingers. Like, if he actually had one, Venetia was so going to pull an Aang-and-Firelord-Ozai and yank him down by the stupid goatee.

Think calm thoughts, Ven. Less violent, more… Passive-aggressive? Put salt in his coffee instead of sugar?

“Because, like you said. I’m the best of my generation.” Venetia’s gray-green eyes glittered. “And as we both know, the pen is greater than the sword.”

“What do you need to know?” 

ON CYPRIAN JUNG

AS HARD AS IT may be to believe, Cyprian Jung wasn’t always a douche CEO and The Worst Father of the Year. 

Once upon a time, Cyprian might have been Venetia’s favorite person in the world-- but Venetia always skips over that information, and more often than not, likes to pretend that her father didn’t exist. 

Because being raised by a single badass mother sounded a lot cooler than “yeah, my dad decided that his business was a better child than I was, lolol”

But when an new upstart reporter’s article landed on his desk one drizzly Monday morning, Cyprian was shocked to realize that his very gay, very disappointing daughter was the one who wrote it.

Now, we can go two directions here. We can say that Cyprian was so proud and so moved by his daughter’s shrewd reporting skills and her article, or we can say that Cyprian saw something in his daughter that he realized he could exploit, like any good, cunning businessman.

Venetia Verne, who looked-- and acted-- nothing like her father (who seemingly embodied every single fucking Asian stereotype-- how did he even do that?) was proud that she was her mother's daughter.

She hated every resemblance she had with Cyprian, of which she unfortunately had a multitude.

And here comes the plot twist: Cyprian Jung, even though he seemed like he didn’t care for his daughter at all, did. 

That was why he called her into his office on an unnaturally-bright Saturday, the day after Venetia and her girlfriend went to a Friday night house party and Venetia stumbled in on her girlfriend in the middle of a hot make-out sesh with a boy.

And before Venetia turned to her mother for advice on her problem, and before she decided to become who she wanted to be for herself, her father would do one good thing for her.

And it would be the only good thing that Venetia would ever, grudgingly, accept that he did.

1.2 ‘CALLING ME DRUNK WHEN IT’S TOO LATE AT NIGHT’

VENETIA CAME BACK FROM her interview with her father a little satisfied and a little angry. 

Satisfied because she had the outline for her next article all set out and ready to go-- complete with quotes from her father about the White Queen-- and angry for two reasons. 

One, because her father really thought that way? Screw him. 

And two, because Venetia had always gone to lunch on Saturdays with Octavia at their favorite boba shop, munching on Taiwanese food and complaining about how difficult ‘life-ing’ was. Octavia had always managed to make Cyprian (and her own father’s) bigoted ideals about feminism (and gay culture, honestly) seem funny.

Venetia pressed her lips into a tighter line as she finally got out of her father’s ice-cold office building and onto the street, where the motion and movement of the city slowed, if not stilled, her thoughts.

Her flat shoes dragged against the gritty pavement as Venetia trudged towards, actually, Venetia didn’t know where she was going. She just kept walking, her bag over her shoulder and one hand brushing against the folds of her skirt.

Venetia hated not having purpose. Saturdays were hard because those were the days that lacked the most schedule-- school days had school, with designated wake-up and go-the-fuck-to-sleep times. Saturdays were full of freedom, and Venetia Verne didn’t know what to do with it.

So she continued walking, wishing that she had something to do. There was always lunch with Tavi to look forward to, or thrift shopping if she wanted. She could walk around the city aimlessly, or she could go home and mope around--

In her bag, her phone buzzed insistently. Only one person ever texted and didn’t call-- Tavi.

Tears burned the backs of Venetia’s eyes, and a lump formed in her throat. Octavia was probably calling wondering why she wasn’t at the shop yet, knowing about her girlfriend’s affinity for punctuality and structure. 

Octavia was just going to ignore it.

She didn’t confess to a fuming-but-hiding-it Venetia last night that she had cheated, nor had she acted any differently. With her cheerful I love you, bitch and her insistent flirting with anyone who spared her an appreciative glance but her fake assurances that she was Venetia’s and Venetia’s alone.

Venetia’s fingers tightened around the material of her skirt, twisting the fabric until she was positive the texture would be printed onto her fingers. Her calculating eyes swept over the people around her, dresses in shades of black and white and navy. All business suits or pencil skirts.

Her phone buzzed again, and Venetia ignored it further. 

If Octavia was going to ignore the elephant in the room, Venetia sure as hell wasn’t going to point it out. She remembered the way her stomach had dropped when she pushed the door open looking for her jacket, the way that outrage pulsed through her veins, tempered by shattering disappointment. 

If Venetia had marched in and screamed at Octavia, what would it have changed? Tavi was used to getting everything she wanted. 

So Venetia had gently shut the door and crashed into a different-- thankfully unoccupied room-- and splashed her face with the coldest tap water she could get, staring directly at the bathroom light so she wouldn’t cry. 

Venetia hated crying, hated showing any form of vulnerability. Because Venetia Verne was a sphynx, carved out of stone. Her father had always called her Sphynx, because when she was upset she tended to not show it. 

Well, Venetia’s resting bitch face was downright legendary.

If Venetia had said something, what would it have changed? Octavia, skillful with words, would have laughed and said that her girlfriend was drunk, or sleep-deprived, or both. 

And Venetia knew that she herself would have believed it. 

Octavia could paint pictures with words in a way that Venetia had never seen before-- and her mother was a supervillain. 

And that was the other reason why she was angry.

Because her mother was the White Queen, and her father’s opinion made her blood boil.

It really puts opinions into perspective when people are ignorant: if you uploaded a picture of yourself to an internet forum-- not saying that it was yourself-- and asked people to describe it, what would they say?

Venetia’s phone kept buzzing.

Her fist kept clenching.

And the spiral-- no, noose-- of her thoughts tightened. 

1.3 ‘TELLING ME TRUTHS THAT YOU KNOW ARE LIES’

“OKAY, AM I ALLOWED to be done with this?” Venetia fumed to her secondary best friend Gray, who Venetia was positive was sick of her. She only came running over to the mild Australian boy when she lost another of her friends, and ditching him once she made a new one. If Venetia wasn’t such a heartless bitch, she would have felt bad for the way she treated him.

“Yes, you are,” Gray said patiently, trailing meekly behind her.

 “Well, good,” Venetia snapped, storming through the halls of the local high school.

The rest of her dreary Saturday had come and gone in a whirl of anger-grief-bitching-stress eating, and Sunday the same. 

“Hey, Ashie!” Venetia was in a seriously pissy mood, and decided then and there that she was going to call everyone by obnoxious nicknames only that day. Asheton Shore, who adamantly went by Shore, was her first victim.

“It’s Shore!” the boy bellowed.

Behind her, Venetia heard Gray scurry behind a wall of imposing-looking seniors. “Ashie,” Venetia drawled, walking closer to him. Her skirt swished with each step she took-- while Asheton Shore’s close companion Maeren Sepia liked vintage too, Venetia always secretly knew that her style was better.

“Fruck,” Shore muttered-- no, it was Ashie, Venetia told herself firmly. 

“Come on, Venetia.” Gray was back, his eyes shifting around nervously as he carefully took her by the arm and steered her away.

“Damn it,” Venetia hissed, digging her fingers into the material of her skirt. 

“Okay, I know you’re--” Gray cringed, “bitching about the whole Octavia thing, but--”

“You can say the word bitch, Gray.”

“I don’t want to call you a bitch, Ven.”

“Oh my fucking god, Gray. When you think of the word bitch you should think of my face.”

“I don’t like cursing.”

“Fuck that.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Right back at you, Gray.”

“You’re such a bitch.”

“Thanks.”

Venetia huffed; Gray bit his lip, sighing. Yes, he was very much done with Venetia and her bullshit. Venetia herself was done with Venetia and her bullshit. 

Like Ashie, Gray went exclusively by his last name. Then again, when you had a name like Devlin-Tibereus, you wanted to purge that name from your memory. And ‘Asheton’ didn’t even seem so bad if you had the misfortune of being named Devlin-Tiberius Gray-- the Second.

And no, Venetia was not allowed to call him Take Two.

“Come on, we’re going to be late to class.” Gray was tugging at her sleeve insistently. Sometimes Venetia thought of him as an insistent-yet-adorable puppy, the kind that was a total sweetheart until they gave up and peed on your carpet.

“I wanna ditch,” muttered Venetia, who was very acutely aware that Octavia would be attending the same class. 

And even though Venetia spent a weekend moping around mooching off of Octavia’s Netflix and eating half-melted ice cream, ghosting Octavia when she tried to call, and doing everything except think about Octavia-- which was a form of thinking about it-- she wasn’t ready to face her. 

At all. 

Gray blew out a breath-- yes, he was very, very sick of her already.

“Let’s ditch.” Gray said suddenly, planting his feet and nearly throwing Venetia off-balance. 

Venetia gaped. “Where the fuck is Gray and what did you do with him, Take Two?”

“I am not take two! Ven, how many times do I have to tell you? Come on, let’s ditch.”

“You’re finally speaking sense, Gray.” Venetia patted his back appreciatively as they blew past the classroom they were supposed to be in and towards the exit. “About time.”

Gray smiled, flashing his elusive dimples. “No shit.”

1.4 ‘YEAH, YOU THINK YOU’RE FUNNY, RIGHT?’

“SO,” VENETIA SAID LAMELY, her feet dragging against the dusty pavement as she and Gray trudged away from the school, casting furtive looks over their shoulders to make sure that they weren’t being followed. “How’s Teddy? Do people still get to call her Taffy?”

“Taffy’s fine,” Gray said, and didn’t elaborate. Venetia didn’t press-- she knew she was already pressing her luck with her friend-- if Gray could even call her that-- by dragging him with her.

Teddy-- or Theodosia-Amélie Frances Gray-- was Gray’s little sister, who was affectionately called ‘Taffy’ by her close friends and family. Venetia wasn’t sure if she fell in that category, but like most only children, she had a fascination with siblings.

Like how both Gray and Teddy had the same smile and mousy hair and dimples, but they shared different things with their parents, like how Gray and his mother had the same nose but Teddy had the same pattern of freckles across her cheeks.

“That’s nice. Where do you want to go, coffee?” Venetia asked, and suddenly laughed. Out here there was no Octavia, no pressure, no teachers breathing down her neck as she struggled through trigonometry. 

Gray’s elusive dimples flashed. “Coffee sounds nice-- as does the idea of ditching, honestly-- and you can rant to me about Octavia. You know, you shouldn’t call her Octavia or Tavi. What about Tyrell?”

“Why shouldn’t I call her Octavia?” Venetia asked, bemused. 

“I don’t know!” Gray grinned. “Maybe… I don’t know, Octavia sounds too nice. I’d say ‘call her a bitch’--”

“But I’m the bitch.” Venetia finished, mirroring Gray’s grin. She and Gray always clicked-- no matter how Venetia abandoned him or pushed him aside for her other friends-- not that she had any, which was the irony of it-- Gray was always waiting with his remarks and banter and coffee-fueled highs.

“Exactly.”

“I really am a bitch, you know. Makes you wonder how Buttercup-- I mean Tavi-- I mean Tyrell-- fell for me in the first place.”

“Eh, probably the bitchiness itself.”

“True, true.”

Gray grinned again. “I missed you-- which probably is the wrong thing to say, but hey-- Taffy tattles on me for swearing all the time, while you swear just as much--”

“More. I swear more than you, Tibe.” Venetia smirked and quirked an eyebrow, and Gray sighed. 

“I’m never going to win that argument, am I?” he asked, half smiling. 

Venetia winked-- or tried to, since she couldn’t wink to save her life-- and nudged Gray’s shoulder with her own. “Never, Take Two.”

“You know, I can call you Veni Vidi Vici.”

Venetia scowled. “My mother really had something against me naming me Venetia Lavinia, didn’t she? Veni Vinny Verne, I mean, seriously?”

Gray smiled, flashing his dimples again. “Someone’s in good spirits.”

“Just drink your damn coffee, Gray.”

“Just let us get to the damn coffee shop, Verne,” Gray mimicked her tone, his wavy hair bouncing as he walked. 

“You’re almost as annoying as,” Venetia paused to snap her fingers, “whatshisname Lock. Lochlan Ryals-- don’t some people call him Cinnamon?”

“Lock?” Gray asked, his eyes lighting up. “That’s a compliment.”

“Well, I sure didn’t mean it that way,” Venetia said dryly, her eyes trained on the coffee shop that was coming into clearer view.

“Well, time to order coffee black as my soul,” Venetia said brightly, swinging the door open and following Gray inside.

“Yeah, right,” he muttered, but he was smiling.

“I’m hilarious,” Venetia deadpanned, tossing her pin-straight hair. 

“You really do think you’re funny.”

Venetia smirked. “Yep, I think I’m funny, right?”

[bisluthq]

It’s your kaylor historian here who still can’t remember my log in details to my KH account 🤦‍♀️ (so please make sure this anon just in case it isn’t... I fear them 👀)

Karlie’s tea post before masters heist:

Ok so I can’t remember who posted first and don’t feel like looking, but taylor posted a selfie and captioned it “Friday calmness” and we (kaylor fandom) had been speculating taylor was going to come out as bi on the last day of June / 🌈pride month🌈 since she’d been doing so much stuff that could be seen (and was) as queer coded. We celebrated the “Friday calmness” thinking it was like a ‘calm before the storm’ with the storm being her coming out.

I think Karlie posted after taylor, but am not 100% sure. Karlie posted a selfie with a cup with a caption like “what’s the tea” and the fandom, thinking they were still together, collectively lost our shit. It looked to us like Karlie was playing off Taylor’s post. (I’ll admit, I didn’t think kaylor were still together, but that weekend I was thinking ‘I can’t believe I doubted them!’ Lol)

*there were also rumours that the YNTCD video and single were delayed a couple of times and meant to be released sooner and serve as a soft coming out, but that taylor kept changing her mind about it and is also why she kept the tracklist length under wraps, because she wasn’t sure if she’d go through with it. She was way more vague than ever before. There were also rumours she had a rolling stone cover planned that she was going to come out in but it was scrapped —— I can’t even remember where these “she’s actually coming out” rumours originated anymore and I can’t remember if people had legit sources and gossip or if it was fan fiction planning, but it was mentioned outside the kaylordom too, so take that as you wish.

Then came the masters heist.

Now, to understand the thought process of Kaylors at the time, you have to remember that we thought Karlie & Taylor had a secret romance, Joe was a beard, Josh was a beard - but since he comes from a crime family who have done a lot of bad things (to put it lightly) and are stupidly rich, Josh had Karlie trapped in such a tight contract and has so much blackmail material that Karlie was forced to fake marry him against her will - remember, it was only meant to be a photo shoot for a Vogue wedding spread showing what wedding fashion was available, it wasn’t meant to be a wedding! But josh had his team leak the photos and instead of saying it was all for a photo shoot, Karlie had to say she was now married. <- that was the narrative and thought process within the fandom.

So the fandom thought 🛴 and Josh conspired to announce the purchase of big machine/ taylor’s masters which would derail her coming out plans. The fandom thought Karlie had no idea it was happening. Scooter and Josh were worried Taylor was going to come out, which would ultimately out Karlie since there were so many rumours about Kaylor already, and it would then out Josh and ruin Josh’s image, making it look obvious to everyone that Josh and Karlie were just beards, but kaylor was real. To avoid tarnishing Josh’s hetero card, scooter waited until the end of June to announce he bought taylor’s music for maximum impact.

(Never mind that someone spent $300M to keep a client in the closet) that was how we interpreted the situation (kept writing the fan fiction) and that it was a blow to taylor and a huge betrayal from scooter to Karlie because now they had extra leverage / ways to hurt Karlie.

So yeah. It was a very sad time. This also is why some kaylors think hoax lyrics point to their everlasting love “my best laid plans” = tay ready to come out end of June “your sleight of hand” = scooter tricking Karlie when he bought the masters and any information about taylor that Karlie mentioned innocently was used against them, “my barren land” = taken on a new meaning since Karlie announced her pregnancy, but initially it was seen as the land that was meant to be blooming with love was left barren and empty because of the masters incident delaying her coming out.

It sounds absolutely ludicrous, but the only way to understand how it was easy to rationalise is to understand how adamant the fandom was/ is that Josh and joe are just beards, Karlie is locked in a contract, and taylor is trying to free the both of them. If there were any truth to this at all, it is nothing short of ghastly situation for Karlie and paints taylor as a Nobel warrior trying to save her princess from the tower 🦸🏼‍♀️👸🏼 ....

Karlie had what I think was a scheduled post cause it was ad content , but otherwise was unusually silent on social media for a week + after the announcement. We thought they were grieving together.

——-

Now for Emily Poe. Ok so I really didn’t do my research - I thought Emily was only one or two years older than Taylor, so it never even occurred to me that the idea of that relationship would’ve been extremely predatory and badbadbadbad. I regret not doing my due dillihence when I was part of a fandom that consumed this theory. So Emily theories have been around since Taylor first had gay speculation. Part of this was because of some funny photos like that one where taylor is standing next to a truck that says “...gay Texan” and emily and a guy in the band I can’t think of his name were pointing to taylor and smirking. It’s a funny photo. I can see my dumb teenage self making similar jokes long before I knew my sexuality because LOOOOL GAY was a thing back then. There’s the video taylor made for Emily where she held up the “we love you emily” sign and she went to everyone she toured with including brad paisley to hold up the sign and make heart hands and just be extremely cute - platonic or romantic - both seem plausible - and cute as hell! The video was set to the dashboard confessional song ‘stolen’ which is basically just the lyric “you have stolen my heart” over and over again. This video got renewed interest when people went back and looked back at the you belong with me video. The idea of taylor and her make love interest holding these a4 sheets of paper with “I love you” written on them seemed familiar. The story of how YBWM came about was that Taylor heard her guitarist on the phone with his girlfriend and his gf was yelling at him for something seemingly insignificant/ the gf was painted out as high drama and her guitarist seemed miserable every time he spoke to her for a while. So Taylor had the idea of a song about a girl thinking her friends girlfriend is horrible, but turn it into a love story where the two friends get together - classic romantic comedy trope - she took the idea to Liz Rose and it was one of the last songs written for Fearless and specifically made to be upbeat and preppy because taylor thought the album was lacking that vibe. If you take the story Taylor said inspired the song and swap it from her male guitarist (who she also said she had no feelings for), and change it to her female fiddle player, the story behind the song can be the same, just tweaked to be hetwashed. Emily was a cheerleader and had a boyfriend when she toured with taylor, so it’s easy enough to take those things at surface value and think there was some truth to Emily. Also the two biggest gaylor rumours pre swiftgron came from comments on a gossip site/ forum. One was that ‘Emily was fired after she was caught relieving taylor of stress’ and how ‘emily was interested in law, but this incident cemented she had to leave the band but the swift team gave her money so emily wouldn’t sue for being fired on a sexual harassment issue’ (of course, knowing the age difference, we know this would NOT be the case at all) and it is speculated it inspired taylor to write breathe because she was so sorry for how things ended. They were inseparable and then after her birthday, never seen together or mentioned each other on MySpace again.

The other comment was that taylor ‘was a pillow princess in high school’ and that she was happy to receive but not give because she wanted to maintain her virgin status and thought if she reciprocated it would make her gay — the comment was something like that.

Of course it would’ve been incredibly easy for idk, some random on the internet who has never even met taylor to say those things.... but it was taken as gospel by the gaylor truthers.

People who looked further found a girl they believed was Taylor’s high school gf, her name started with L... but I never really believed it so I don’t have the greatest knowledge of that one. It seemed ridiculous to me she had a 3 year gf as a teenager and not a single person from her high school - or anyone who knew her alleged gf - ever spoke about it publicly??? That would be a lot of NDAs and payouts to keep silent, but a lot of other people believed NDAs and hush money was spent, so yeah... 🤷‍♀️

She also had some fruity MySpace posts which seemed to help the case for gaylor, but imo, it also falls under the ‘teenagers on the internet are dumb especially when social media was brand new and thank god myspace doesn’t exist cause I don’t want to see my old one ever again’ category.

Sorry for the essay, I felt I had been summoned and wanted to give background on the fandom. When I log back in I think I need to change my bio, I’m not really here to talk kaylor , but the fandom. Cause it’s really sad what that narrative within the fandom has become and heartbreaking what that narrative has done to fans, especially queer kids trying to figure themselves out. I couldn’t see how toxic it was for a long time, I’m happy I’m out of there now. but I think it helps to understand how the fandom thought and saw things as to how easy it was for things to spiral to the state it’s in now.

As old T used to sign off, - lovelovelove 💜

Brilliant post thanks KH!

[mysterymirrors]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: NWOT Nike Women's Essential Scoop Sports Bra - Black - M.

[staycatcher]

[191013] Yeongdeungpo Fansign © 유현이랑 | Do not edit

[soft-hard-peaches]

Reaction: Ateez Going to a Fashion Show with You

ͥ ͪ ͦ ᷮ ͤ ꙷ ͦ ͧ ᷝ ͥ ᷜ ͤ ͥ ͭ

~fluff~

Kim Hongjoong

You're both excited for tonight. Even the opportunity to simply attend fashion week separately is amazing let alone being able to go together. You spent the morning getting ready together, doing your final touches together. You show him the clothes you're pondering on and put them on for him. Taking off your top and replacing it for another, swapping your plaid skirt for plain leather pants, asking him if you should wear stockings or not. You trust him wholeheartedly with these kinds of things and he never wants to disappoint or put you down but he knows you want his honest help so he gives it to you. But he doesn’t need to try hard helping you anyway.

 In reality, Hongjoong absolutely adores your personal style, how you are able to mix street fashion and chic one day, preppy and cute the next day, and then go back to dressing completely casual. He’s simply having fun with his own personal fashion show. He thinks you're gorgeous in whatever you wear and when you decide to wear nothing at all.  

“Joong, should I wear this chain belt with the pants or will that look like I’m trying too hard?”

Hongjoong walks to your selection and picks out a thin silver chain belt. “This one. It’s not too much but a nice addition.”

You smile at him as he walks up to you and slowly hooks the belt into your pants, pulling you closer, leaving nothing but tension between you both. Once he’s done, he lets you fasten the once cold chain ends. When you look up, he’s smirking playfully at you. 

“What was that?”, you asked, amused by his random seducing. Hongjoong walks to his closet and begins looking for his already set outfit.

“Nothing. But you can help me if you want.” 

Seonghwa

You sat on the couch of the boy’s dorm waiting for your boyfriend to finish getting ready for tonight’s upcoming event. This is practically routine for you to wait for Seonghwa while he got ready. Not like you mind all that much. You understood how much he cared about his appearance and his interest in fashion. So you waited patiently in the kitchen, scrolling through your phone and occasionally talking to the other members.

“Are you excited for tonight?”, Yunho asked you. You glanced up at him to respond but then went back to your phone, scrolling through twitter to see who was all attending, “I heard that Jennie and Lisa were supposed to show up and I can’t wait to see their glamorous outfits. I feel like they are gonna be the best dressed of the whole event.” As you finish that remark, you see your boyfriend descending from the stairway. 

Your phone slipped from your grasp slightly when you saw Seonghwa make his way towards you.

“Y/n? Do you think this outfit is alright?”, he asked as he fiddles with the cuff of his overcoat. 

“Woah hyung, you should be the one walking the runway!,” Yunho interjected but he practically took the words from your mouth. Placing your phone down, you walked over to your rather dapper boyfriend. Removing his clumsy hand from his cuff to properly fix it. “You look runway ready, Hwa.”

Jeong Yunho

Walking into the event was a bit overwhelming for you. All of the photographers and fansites with their flashing lights that were almost blinding, the loud commands of where and how to pose, the group’s managers leading you all to get inside. All the boys looked well-dressed and well groom and you followed suit in your best black-tie attire. 

You sat between your boyfriend Yunho and a well known up-in-coming designer, popular for their nature/fantasy inspired designs, and behind you were other celebrities in the industry that were way more relevant than you because you were only known for being girlfriends with a famous idol. For that reason you felt like you had no merits being there. You felt like a fish out of water. Even after the show you stood there behind the group’s manager watching the boys pose for a photo op, the feeling sat inside you that no one would care if you were even there and that feeling engulfed you until you sat in the car on your way home.

Once in the car, Yunho grabbed your hand and softly placed it on his cheek. He let out a long yawn as he began to rub the back of your palm on his cheek, “Yaaahh, Y/n I’m so glad you came… these things can be so tiring. When you're around I feel at peace.” You watched your sleepy boyfriend silently. Trying your very best not to break down from happiness from the unintentional consolation.

Kang Yeosang

You rested on his bed, half dressed, thinking about the day’s big event. Initially you were ecstatic that your boyfriend was going to such a big event like a fashion show but now that you are going, it has you a bit wary. Nonetheless, you are excited to share this experience with your beloved Yeosang. Yeosang on the other hand was more noticeably nervous. Pacing around his room, changing his outfit for the third time, mixing up the arrangement of his accessories, and muttering to himself. You sat up, deciding it was also time to atleast put a shirt on so you can help your tottering boyfriend,

“Yah, Jagi, what color should I wear?”, he asked, scouring through his closet.

“You look great in red and black”, you state simply, heading to his nightstand to borrow a pair of dangly earrings.

“Button up or turtleneck?” You look back to see him holding the options in his hands.

“Definitely turtleneck.”, you affirm while also picking out something from his closet. Yeosang looked at you in confusion, “Didn’t you bring an outfit with you?” You chuckled as you draped one his jackets over on your body, “Yeah I did, but your clothes are better.”, you respond coyly, giving him a cheeky smile. You practically traded half your outfits for his at this point but since he takes a bit of pride of you wearing his clothes, he doesn’t complain.

Almost finished with his ensemble, he checks for your opinion once more asking, “Contacts or no contacts?”

Also finished dressing, you walked over to him and caressed his face, pulling him down to plant a kiss on the lips, “No contacts, your visuals are striking enough.”

Choi San

The energy of the show is exhilarating! The talent of these designers give you a surge of fascination. The assorted patterns and colors, all the different materials and textures, and the skill to make fabrics look good on a person’s body brings you to a complete awe. Holding your hand on your lap was your boyfriend San. He knew how much you loved fashion so he was more than eager to invite his sweetie love to go with him. 

Every now and again you’d turn to each other to comment on the models and what they are modeling. “Look San!”, you’d have to speak over the music, “Amazing!” Small phrases were easier to communicate. San agreed that the models and designs were nice but the way you looked at all the models with such amaze and adoration was how he looks at you everyday and seeing your eyes light up with wonder was the whole show for him.

Song Mingi

You were a bit apprehensive but excited to be seen in such an important event with your boyfriend Mingi because this is your first time being seen together as a couple.

It was a pretty big deal for you both to come out as a couple; you both being idols from different companies. Together, you had to meet with your respective companies on this decision and on when and how to release the news. You both were worried about the very possible backlash from fans and antis. But this was very important to you both so with the support of your companies, you two became successful separately and together and today is the day that you’ll be seen hand-in-hand for the very first time.

“Mingi! Y/n!”, you hear your names shouted from all angles. You felt a bit awkward. Although you’ve had your picture taken many times before, this is the first time at an official event with your boyfriend.

“Mingi!”, a fansite shouts. You expected him to move away from you to give them a better shot of him but he places his hand around your waist, scooting you closer to him. You try to hide any changes in expression as much as possible but the moment he grabs your hand, signifying his love for you, cracks your generic idol grin to a genuine goofy smile that your fans and him know well, which slightly embarrasses you and causing everyone including Mingi to… lack of better words… bust a UwU.

Jung wooyoung

“Doll...”, Wooyoung knocks on the bathroom door, “... the car will be here soon.” 

Though he said it in a playful manner, you know he was trying to put a bit of fire under your butt, but as long as the car hasn’t pulled up you saw no reason to leave the bathroom especially for this upcoming event. Outside the walls you hear the muffle chatter of the guys that for time to time you can make out and chuckle to yourself but your main focus is to vamp up your look. This a BIG event with big names and gorgeous people and you wanted to look the part. You tried on three different shades of lipstick to compliment your eyeshadow, reapplied your eyelashes to make them perfect, and gave yourself an efficient enough pep talk just in case you lose your cool at any point. Though you were only in attendance, you were ready to be the best at the show.

*knock**knock* “Baby?”

“Yeah. I’m ready Woo, you can come in.”, you said in a sweet sing-song tone while you sprints your finishing spray on your face. Making sure your makeup stays strong for what today will unfold.

Wooyoung walks in just in time to catch some of your mist in his mouth. Trying to speak between coughs, “Ya done *couch* yet?” You look up at him through the mirror, not yet turning back to him. You stop there staring at your coughing boyfriend in total awe. Yes, Wooyoung is always fashionable but today he is something different. From his perfectly styled wavy black hair down to his slick designer toes. And he notices your stare.

With his last attempt in clearing his throat, he questions your stare. You admire your confused boyfriend further. The quizzical expression fixed on his face breaks your trance with a laugh, “Woo! You take best dressed of all I see.” Your blunt compliment takes him off guard but that makes him even cuter. 

“Ya… you’re making me blush… Let’s go! The car is here!” 

Choi Jongho

About an hour into the car ride home was gradually becoming quieter with the tired members slowly falling asleep and the manager turning down the volume of the radio to accommodate for the members. Jongho sat in the back between a sleeping Yeosang and you. This event took a lot out of all of you. For him and the rest, they are more or less used to strenuous scheduling but he was afraid that you were over exerting yourself on his behalf. When the company accepted his request to invite you, he was overjoyed to have you experience something as prestigious as fashion week with him. You’re his darling Y/n afterall. He wants to experience as much with you as possible but he worried that his idol life may tire you out one day.

The rumble of the moving car and low volume radio played in the background. Once Jongho stopped thinking so much he mistook Yeosang’s gentle snore for your’s and leaned over to check if you were asleep. Once he leaned far enough to see your face, you opened your eyes, spooking him. “Woah you’re awake Y/n?”, he tried to play off his surprise, “Did I wake you?”, he whispered. You shook your head no making him relax back into his seat. You were both silent for a few minutes when he noticed your hand resting close to his. As he noticed, you brushed your fingertips on the back of his hand affectionately, catching his attention further. 

You rested your head on his shoulder to whisper to him, so only he can hear your message, “You know Jongho? I’m really glad you invited me. You didn’t have to invite me to this but i am really grateful that we can do things together. Albeit, I would be just as happy if we stay in and watch a bad movie.” You end a very sentimental statement with a slight joke to keep from getting emotional but Jongho takes that much needed validation and places your hand in his for the rest of the ride home.

[quijotine]

come get ya miraculous juice

If your thirst for lukanette and slow burn adrinette cannot possibly wait for season 4, Chapter 10 of The Wall Between Us is up on AO3! 

Or read in Tumblr below the cut

Chapter 10

“Aw, come on Luka, don’t be like this,” Albin said, swinging an arm around his neck.

“I’m not being like anything,” Luka protested as he and his group of friends made their way out of the metro station and towards Place de la Concorde. “I’m just saying I don’t feel like coming to a demonstration.”

“So, what would you rather be doing today instead, hm? Stay locked up in your room like an emo kid? Besides, the weather is great today and you know Margot will hang us by our heads if we don’t show up.”

Luka sighed and remitted to walk along, which pleased Albin.

Luka’s friends had been very adamant on helping him out of the house as often as possible since his breakup with Marinette. They knew that, left to his own devices, Luka would close up and keep to himself. He wasn’t the kind of guy that readily shared when something bothered him, he was more the type that had to be squeezed like an orange for him to share his mind when he was feeling low. However, this was not the reason why Luka had put up more of a fight than it was usually his style. It had been almost a week since the breakup and he had managed to keep out of trouble with Hawkmoth, but he attributed his success to a lot of calm evenings and just processing everything his own way.

As much as he supported the cause and his friend Margot, he could see how participating in a demonstration could get him riled up, especially if some asshole showed up. And he’d attended enough demonstrations during his lifetime to know that there was always some asshole showing up.

The trio of boys made their way to the organizers’ tent, where Margo kept busy readying cardboard signs. Without as much as a quick glance upwards and a smile, she said, “Oh good, you’re here. Help me with these, please. Paint is on the table over there.” She handed a couple of cardboard pieces to each of the boys and left them to their own devices.

Luka wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with these. His creativity didn’t exactly lie in the visual department. That was always more a thing for...

He shook his head and proceeded to grab some random paint and brushes for Albin, Noe, and himself. As he turned around, he accidentally knocked a container of black paint on the person behind him waiting their turn.

“What the heck! Watch it!” the girl exclaimed.

“Shit,” he hissed. “Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Let me help you clean-- Kagami?”

It took him a couple seconds to recognize who she was. It had been almost a year since he had last seen her. There was an air to her that made it evident she had changed a lot during that time, but it was also obvious in her appearance. She had cut her hair shorter than before and she had now several piercings on her ears. She seemed to have also shed her preppy outfits in favor of high-waisted mom jeans and a black crop top. Besides her appearance, Luka could  just tell this was the type of girl who wouldn’t take crap from anyone, even more than before. It was a bit… daunting. He did always wonder how someone as intimidatingly sure of herself ended up with someone like Adrien.

“Luka,” she said deadpan.

“You... look very different.”

She gave him a dirty look. “Really? You come to a feminist demonstration and the first thing you do is comment on my appearance?”

Luka blushed with embarrassment. “No, no, no! Sorry! I didn’t mean it like that! You just-- in general. You look different in general.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Thanks for ruining my pants, by the way. They weren't my favorite or anything,” she said sarcastically, then stopped, looked around the room and asked, “Where’s Marinette, anyway? Maybe she knows some way to take the stain off.”

Luka clutched his painting utensils and gulped. He had tried to steer away from the subject as much as possible to reduce his risk of getting akumatized, but he supposed there wasn’t much of a way to evade it right now.

“We, uh... we broke up a few days ago.”

“Oh.” Kagami perked up, suddenly aware how her question might have been a little insensitive. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah.”

“Not that it’s my business, but how are you doing? After your akumatization and so on?”

“I didn’t get akumatized,” he said, suddenly defensive, as an urge to get back to his friends built up.

“Really?” Kagami said, a bit surprised.

“Yes, really.”

“I always had the impression you were super into her,” she commented, but mostly to herself.

“I am--I was,” he said, getting angry.

“I got akumatized into this nightmarish monster when Adrien and I broke up and it turned out it didn’t take me so much to get over him.”

“That has absolutely nothing to do with it,” he retorted, evidently irked.

“No, no. Of course not,” she hurried to say, realizing she had unintentionally pushed his buttons. “I just meant to say props to you. Lesser people get akumatized for the weather or something like that. Sorry for the stupid comparison.

“Sure. Whatever…”

“... Anyway,” Kagami said, sighing. “I guess we’ve made this sufficiently awkward, right? So, I’ll get going.”

Luka marched back to his friends and unceremoniously dumped the materials at the center of their little circle as tried to calm himself down.

He tried to focus on getting something into his sign but the fact he was stuck doing something Marinette usually loved to do was not helping in the slightest.

He breathed heavily, his eyes prickling him as hot, angry tears pooled and then fell onto the cardboard.

“I need some fresh air,” he announced to his friends, who had noticed his mood but had not said anything yet and watched as he stormed outside.

He paced around, taking deep breaths. The anxiety of not being able to calm down mixed with the fear of getting akumatized, was like kindling soaked in gasoline being thrown into a starting fire. And, as wildfires do, it burst out of control.

Luka gasped for air and then, with horror saw as the black butterfly approached him. He sprinted back to the tent where his friends were but by the time he got there, the butterfly had already lodged in the paintbrush he was holding.

The voice of his friends urging him not to give into the spell was faint and distant in his ears, but enough to keep him steady.

The first thing he noticed is that this akumatization felt different. He's was still aware of everything. He hadn’t been completely akumatized yet. Hawkmoth held him in his petrifying grasp but stalled, as if deciding what to turn him into.

Suddenly, his grave voice echoed inside his head.

“What is it that you want, Luka Couffaine?”

“Get out of my head,” Luka hissed, focusing as hard as he could on not thinking of anything that would reveal the secrets he knew.

Hawkmoth laughed. “But you called me here. Your emotions... I can tell you’re a soul in pain. You lost something. I can relate to that pain.” Luka felt how Hawkmoth snaked through his thoughts, looking for something to convince him. A flash of a thought, and Hawkmoth knew he was hiding something.

“GET OUT!” he screamed in his head.

He laughed again. “Oh? And what secrets might you be keeping? Hm?”

Luka winced, straining to keep thinking of random things: music, the weather, that weird bench at school that wobbles when he sits and how he hates it. Anything.

“I can help you recover what you lost...” he whispered softly. “Your girlfriend… Don’t you want her back? What is her name? I can help you. I promise I won’t hurt her.”

He felt himself slipping, turning.

“No!” he said, reverting back into his human form. “Let me go!”

“Maybe what you want is revenge on him? The reason she abandoned you? You’re not worthy like him, are you? That’s why she left you… But I can make you worthy… Wouldn't you want to be in his place, hm? Wouldn’t everything be better with that pesky boy of the way?”

Again, Luka felt himself morph and forced himself to think of other things. He tried reciting stupid facts he knew about ship maintenance.

“Get out of my head!” he exclaimed, sounding much weaker.

“Your power of will is very commendable,” Hawkmoth said. “But if I’m overstaying my welcome all you need to do is tell me what you want.”

“N-no!” Luka said, straining and screaming. “GET OUT!”

“If you--”

Suddenly the contact broke, and he collapsed onto the ground. The world went dark.

When Luka regained consciousness, he did so with a jolt. He was surrounded by his friends, Ladybug and Chat Noir, and surprisingly enough, Kagami.

He had an ungodly headache and realized blood had dried on his upper lip. His nose must have bled.

“Give him some space,” Ladybug ordered the crowd, seeing as Luka was struggling to gather his bearings. He didn’t know what particular panic to tackle first.

“What happened?” he asked, noticing they were not under the tent anymore and the gathering crowd that was preparing for the demonstration had dissipated.

“You got akumatized,” Ladybug explained, a bit surprised she had to fill him in on that particular point.

“Or rather, were about to akumatized,” Chat Noir said, trying to help his confused expression.

“You kept changing into different things. Like, you were getting akumatized on and off again,” Albin explained. “It was pretty scary.”

He turned to Ladybug with horror realizing what that meant. “You need to take me out of here,” he urged.

“Please!”

“Just take it easy for a second, okay?” Ladybug said, trying her best not to share Luka’s worry. “We’ll take you home in a minute.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir had not been present for most of the incident, so they stayed to talk to the people that had seen the attack, mainly Luka’s friends and Kagami.

Chat Noir was the one to interview them while Ladybug found some water for Luka to drink. Once everyone had calmed down and gave Chat Noir their testimony, they took Luka away to a secluded place to talk. It was the abandoned industrial section where Chat usually led Akumas.

“He knows,” he said, with absolute terror in his voice, Luka said pacing around, trying his best to contain his tears. “He knows that I know something! He saw that I was hiding something. I’m so sorry, Ladybug. I tried but he--he was in my mind and saw--.” His voice broke down.

For a reason unknown to Chat, Ladybug suddenly assumed the same urgency as Luka.

“Did he see?” she asked as Luka cried. “Luka, did he see?”

“See what?” Chat Noir asked, with escalating worry. “What is going on?”

“He didn’t. That’s why I kept changing, he tried to convince me several times,” said Luka. “But he knows that I’m keeping a secret.”

Ladybug covered her mouth with her hands.

“Would somebody please just care to explain what is going on?” Chat demanded.

“You didn’t tell him?” Luka said with disbelief.

“Luka, I need you to tell me exactly everything you remember. What happened?” Ladybug said, ignoring the question.

“Nothing. He just… he figured that I… lost someone. And he was trying to get me to tell him who it was, and to convince me to try to get them back, or to get revenge. I managed to focus my thoughts, but what if he tries again,” Luka said fearfully. “You were right,” he sobbed. “I shouldn’t have—I should’ve just looked away that day! I wish I never knew about this.”

Despite Chat’s presence, Ladybug could only comfort Luka with a hug, not knowing what else to do. Chat, on the other hand, seemed to have put two and two together. Luka knew Marinette’s identity.

“Oh my god…” Chat muttered with disbelief as he leaned against the metal sliding door of one of the warehouse buildings and fell to the floor. He grabbed chunks of his hair just to process what all of this meant, what to feel first. His father was only an akumatization away from figuring out Marinette.

“Luka, I promise you I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? We will come up with a plan, Chat Noir and me. But for now, I need to you to lay as low as possible. We cannot be seen together anymore. At all. If Hawkmoth is the person Chat and I suspect he is, he could be very close to finding out who I am if he makes the connection that we were together. Erase everything. Everything we ever posted on our social media, messages, calls, anything that might be public evidence. Try to have Juleka do the same.”

Luka contemplated the prospect for a moment. Ladybug knew she was thinking exactly the same thing as him: how devastating it will be to have to pretend that nothing ever happened. To actively destroy their memories together.

“Okay,” he said after a while. “And what if I get akumatized again? I don’t think I’ll be able to hold him off for any longer than I did today.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Ladybug said. “That’s for us to figure out. Your only task is to pretend like you don’t know us, for your own sake.”

They sent Luka back home on a cab that Marinette called through her burner phone, leaving a heavy sense of danger looming between Chat and Ladybug. He was still on his spot on the ground, with his head on his hands as he supported his arms on his knees.

Ladybug sighed and slid down to sit next to him.

“You told him?”

“I’ve only ever told Alya. He found out by accident,” she said, already defensive and prepared for the argument that was bubbling up between them. “He also knows who you are.”

Chat’s stomach dropped. “Come again?”

“He was hiding in the same alley you transformed in one day.”

Chat let out a heavy sigh and swore loudly.

“You knew about this and you didn’t think to tell me?” he asked Ladybug.

Ladybug was in complete silence. She didn’t know what to say. “I—“

“You what?” Chat demanded.

“I— I meant to tell you next time we met,” she said. “I didn’t think—“

“You didn’t think to tell me that the boyfriend you just broke up with and was very much at risk of being akumatized knows who we are?” he exclaimed with frustration.

“I just—“ Ladybug tried to come up with an explanation, but the words kept getting stuck on her throat. Chat was right to be mad. She should have told him as soon as she found out. But everything had been so much, with him disappearing and Luka suddenly breaking up with her that, in a moment of weakness, him knowing her identity had been the least of her worries.

“What were you thinking?” Chat demanded. “Ladybug, I told you I’m close to the Agreste family!”

“I’m sorry!” she yelled. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think—I was… I was so distracted by everything going on that I never thought… I meant to tell you! But then all this stupid teenage drama got in the way! He broke up with me literally the day after you and I talked. That’s when he told me. I meant to tell you Chat Noir, I swear. I just...” she sighed. “I’m so stupid!”

She knocked the back of her head on the metal wall that they were leaning against. “This was the kind of mistake I wanted to evade by telling someone! And it still happened… No matter what I do, nothing ever seems to be enough.”

She was angry at herself, at the situation, at the fact that no matter how hard she tried, she was still not a good enough Guardian.

“We still have time to fix this,” he said, a lot calmer and even with hints of reassurance in his voice. “We need to use our upper hand before Hawkmoth gets a chance to get his,” said Chat. “I can get a hold of his personal calendar. We can attack when he least expects it.”

“How are you going to do that, Chat? Let me go with you,” Ladybug said, worried.

Chat shook his head. “I’ll do it as a civilian.”

“The more reason!”

“No, Ladybug. If anything goes wrong and he sees you there, he’ll be able to figure everything out. Trust me. I promise I will be careful.”

“But--”

“Marinette, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you,” Chat Noir said, his voice cracking and evidencing the whirlwind of emotions he had been trying to hide from her. “Please, just let me do this. Please, my lady.”

“Okay,” she said quietly. “But promise me you’ll be careful. And you’ll tell me when you do it. Please, promise me you’ll tell me.”

“I will.”

The clicking of Natalie’s heels as she entered the office disturbed the soft classical music playing in the background.

“Here’s the schedule for tomorrow, sir,” she said, placing a thin stack of papers on Gabriel’s desk. “Your flight to Helsinki is expected to arrive at nine a.m. and your first meeting is at ten, as you requested.”

“Excellent. Thank you, Natalie,” Gabriel said, without taking his sight off his screen.

Natalie nodded, heading to her desk.

“One more thing while I am absent, Natalie.”

“Yes, sir?”

Gabriel zoomed into the picture of the article he had been reading. The photographer had managed to capture the teenager he had akumatized looking urgently at Ladybug, who seemed to reciprocate his concern.

“Make sure to find out everything you can about this... Luka Couffaine.”

[toongrrl-blog]

My Own Style Analysis: The Exorcism of Will Byers

Images may be disturbing

Here we have the Byers family (plus Nancy Wheeler) stripped down to their undershirts/bodysuits/long johns with Will in the hospital gown with the dreary print so often found in hospital gowns that make him stand out as the frail young child that everyone is trying to save and as the ill child whose life is on the line. Right now he is possessed by the Mind Flayer who has taken over his body and made it difficult for him to take hot baths (it’s also November in Indiana at that). 

In contrast, but also tying in with the white gown he is wearing, are his older brother and mother in their white undershirts where they are helpless as they fight against their instincts to spare him the discomfort that they have to inflict on him for his own good. In Hindu religion, white is a color of grief and Western culture often associates white with purity and the supernatural. 

Nancy stands out as a connection to the Byers fam (she is the sister of Will’s friend Mike, Jonathan’s new girlfriend, and the equal of Joyce in fighting the Upside Down and experiencing the trauma of losing a loved one to the Upside Down) in her pale pink, a color that isn’t a stranger to her wardrobe especially in the pastel shade. This color becomes important for a good reason, as unlike Will’s mother and brother, Nancy works up the nerve to put Will’s body under extreme discomfort to fight the monster inside him. It is a pastel version of the war-like Red. 

Check her watch: unlike the Byers family, Nancy comes from a upper-middle class household that can afford the preppy, high-quality materials and items preferred by her family and the accessories that grace herself and her mother’s physical selves. With them she is stripped down to her jeans (scrubs in Joyce’s case) and undershirt while performing a physically and emotionally exhaustive task. 

TL;DR, “perfect”, privileged Nancy Wheeler gets down and dirty at the Byers’ level and shed her non-sales rack layers to better connect with them. 

This action helps the Byers rejoice and give a group hug, which Nancy later joins in when this happens.

Suddenly all is well and there is a glow of hope. Just a happy (and disheveled) family.