#shouts out to that person they were obviously doing really well emotionally to have come at me in that way lmao

[sergle]

talking about the topic of animated movies not Hitting, I accidentally reminded myself of one time on twitter, I think around the time that Raya came out?? I was poopooing on how much the dragon looks like elsa, and then talked about how I wish 2d animated and hand animated films were still The Medium instead of nothing but the highest resolution skin texture fur textured 3d animated films bc I'm tired of seeing it, etc etc and then someone who I was not mutuals with, they must've been someone working under the disney IP in some form, and must've either done some work on raya or just worked on 3d animated projects in general, replied to me SEVERAL TIMES as if I was subtweeting them, with something to the tone of "just say you hate me and you think my art is trash" and I think about that ALL the time

[youshouldjustliveinmychurch]

Catra and Adora were taught to physically fight from the time they were young children, which I think is so interesting because we see the negative impact of that on their relationship. Obviously that's an unhealthy way to deal with things. They don't really know how to express their emotions or vulnerability very well. In Adora's words, she's used to punching her feelings out. In their horde days we see that one of the main ways they express affection for each other is roughhousing. Constantly. They mainly just tackle each other and playfight. It's a kind of physical touch that's more easily allowed within their framework than any kind of gentleness. While that's partially due to their dynamic in general, it quickly becomes sinister once they're actually on opposite sides of the war and are fighting with the intention to defeat. Another user posted about their fighting and the unspoken emotion behind it since they haven't been taught to express themselves in a heathy way (couldn't find the post so feel free to tag OP!). Because of their particular kinds of trauma, neither of them are able to be vulnerable and listen to the other while also explaining their feelings. For the first four seasons they're pretty much shouting at each other without any active listening going on. That lack of vulnerability and understanding is symbolized by their physical fights. What makes season 5 so good (at least in part) is The Shift™️ to gentleness.

Adora's been in an environment with people around her who have helped her start to recover from her trauma. Catra just starts to get that chance once she's rescued from horde prime. And it takes time. There's a lot to unpack there and it's not easy, but slowly Catra starts to heal as well away from the Horde. And their dynamic changes. We still see moments when they regress (their fight immediately after Save the Cat and the scene where Catra leaves again both moments when they aren't really listening to what the other person is saying - healing isn't linear), but there's something else there as well. They put their hands on each other's cheeks, Adora puts her hand on Catra's shoulder, they cradle each other, Catra holds Adora's shoulders as she helps her to the heart. And there's the moment in the spaceship where they've been fighting once again and Catra's exterior breaks and she's vulnerable. Catching Adora's wrist, her hand slides down to gently caress Adora's and she asks her to stay. This moment mirrors the moment in the first season where Adora catches Catra's wrist, asking her to come with her and Catra pulls away. Rather than the wrist (still a somewhat detached touch), Catra's hand slides down intentionally taking her hand. Ughhhhhh. My little heart. Before when they're holding hands, it's usually accidental or almost unavoidable during a fight. They're pulling each other off of cliffs or grabbing hands in a mind-bending reenactment of their memories. But this is something else: intentional gentleness which I think is such a crucial element of Catra's redemption, the development of their relationship, and the healing of their trauma.

Once Catra is out of the horde, she has the chance to start to feel safer and is able to be more emotionally vulnerable along with the fact that there are boundaries. Violence won't be tolerated and Catra has to change her behavior in order to be close to Adora, which I think is important. They start listening to each other and helping each other heal by validating the other's needs while putting themselves in each other's shoes. This peaks at the moment that Catra is finally able to express her love for Adora, which she's never had the ability to do before because of her insecurity, trauma, and fear of vulnerability. With that narrative resolution and progression, they finally kiss. Gentleness and vulnerability is what they were never allowed before and it's the thing that embodies their healing. Nothing that hasn't been said before by other posters but ughhhhhhhhhhhhh

[pinkrose787]

A Troll By Any Other Name Would Be As Sweet.

Summary: Branch realizes that she's trans. When she goes to tell Poppy, she finds that Poppy has something to tell her too.

Inspired by this post

AO3 Link

After everything with the Bergens, Branch has finally had some time do some introspection on who exactly Branch is.

And the answer is quite surprising.

Branch is a girl.

Looking back it does make a lot of sense. There had been so many signs that she ignored over the years. Like how she never really liked the way she looked in the mirror, how dressing up in suits always made her feel terrible about herself, or how she always felt like her name never really fit her.

For years, she attributed it to her very severe depression. Everything was bad for her emotionally. So, it made sense that she’d hate looking in the mirror and seeing the troll that she had become. Now that things are better, she is finally able to see it for what it really is. Severe gender dysphoria.

All she has to do now is tell everyone.

Which isn’t terrifying at all.

Troll society is generally very accepting of queer trolls. Branch remembers when Floyd came out as gay. Everyone was very supportive of him. There were a few female fans who were distraught. But other than that, no one really made a big deal of it.

Despite this acceptance, there is still this part of Branch that is terrified that she’ll be rejected. That others will look at her and say, “This is too much. She’s too weird.” And have her be outcasted from society again. Right after they had all accepted her back in.

But Branch refuses to let herself live her life in fear again. She’s coming out. 

Poppy is obviously going to be the first person Branch comes out to. For one, she’s the nicest troll ever and if anyone is going to be supportive, it’s her. Two, Poppy is her best friend and she should be the first one to know the truth about her.

Branch stands in front of her pod. She raises her hand to knock on the door. Her hand starts to shake. Every part of her brain is activated like there’s a level 10 threat and she’s miles from her bunker.

She can’t do this.

As she turns around, the door swings open. “Branch! Hey! What’s up!” Poppy says.

Branch stops in her tracks. She turns around. This is the time to do it. There is no turning back. “Hey Poppy.” Branch waves at her. “Can we go inside? There’s something important I need to tell you.”

“Sure! Come on in!” Poppy waves Branch inside.

Branch’s legs feel like jelly as she walks in to Poppy’s pod. The last time she was this nervous around Poppy was when she was all gray and angry. Before the two of them were as close friends as they are now.  

“What do you need to talk about?” Poppy asks.

“Well…” Branch wants to stall. But she won’t. “I want to tell you that I’m trans.”

“What?” Poppy says.

“I’m a girl, not a guy,” Branch says. She thought that Poppy would know what being trans meant given how socially conscious she is.

A wide smile forms on Poppy’s face. “That’s crazy!” She pulls Branch into a big hug. This is the type of reaction that Branch had expected from her. The hug feels so comforting, as Poppy’s hugs always are. “I’m so glad that you told me!”

Poppy releases Branch from the hug, to her slight disappointment. “I actually was going to tell you that I’m trans too!” Poppy says.

“What?” Out of all the responses she expected, that was not one of them.

“Yeah! I realized a couple of weeks ago that I’m a transguy!” he says.

“What?” Branch repeats.  “Really?”

“Yes!” Poppy shouts very enthusiastically. “Have you picked out a new name yet? I haven’t. Nothing that I’ve thought of has really felt right.”

Branch rubs her arms. “Well, I haven’t.” She sighs. “Honestly, I haven’t really given anything about my transition much thought.”

Poppy gasps. “I just had the greatest idea in the history of ideas!”

“What is it?” Branch is dreading whatever he’s about to say. Often times, his “great” ideas end in a massive mess.

“We should switch names!”

“Wouldn’t that be confusing?”

“I don’t see why it would be,” Branch says.

Poppy shrugs. “Alright.”

“Yeah! I’m King Branch now! And you’re Poppy, my best friend!” Branch pulls Poppy into another big hug.

Poppy hugs Branch back. She loves his hugs. She loves him.

“We’ve got to tell everyone!” Branch thinks for a second. He gasps. “I know! We could throw a gender reveal party for ourselves!”

“I’m not sure how comfortable I am with that.” Poppy rubs her arm. “It’s just that telling you took a lot of courage. And I’m not sure if I’m ready to tell anyone else.”

Branch smiles softly. “That’s okay. We can tell everyone when you’re comfortable.”

Poppy sighs. “Yeah. When I’m ready.”

“Until then we could get you a new wardrobe!” Branch takes Poppy’s hand. He takes her over to his closet. “I’ve got lots of dresses that I don’t need anymore and you would look great in.”

Branch goes on and on about helping her with her fashion. Taking out different dresses and talking about how he thinks it will match her style. It’s so sweet. The kindness that Branch is showing her is one of the reasons that she loves him.

This isn’t exactly how Poppy imagined coming out would go. It’s a lot better than she could have ever imagined. Transitioning is scary, but at least she won’t be alone. She’ll have Branch by her side. And she’ll be by Branch’s side for his transition.

[mycarhasasecret]

I had a thought last night, and I just HAD to see/read it-

Okay so, S/o is usually overly hyper and often talks up and expresses their opinion and thoughts honestly, and always asks questions when their confused (which is 60% of the time). Just them being innocent and friendly. But then they get yelled at by the bots/cons? They then become more invested in their phone, they would drown out everyone by listening to music and ignore the bots/cons. They only respond with hums/respond with short yes's or nos's, nodding and/shaking their heads during convos?

Bots: TFP and Bayverse Ratchet and Wheeljack/Que?

Cons: Bayverse The Last Knight Megatron?

I apologize if this is long... I might also ask for another variation but with different bots and cons-

Can do

Bayverse

Ratchet

-Ratchet, pragmatist he is, is not a particularly wordy fellow. He never really felt one way or the other about you filling the silence. It was simply a part of your personality. Neither seeing it as negative nor positive, he is of the opinion that the yelling was uncalled for.

-He notices your unusual reticence right away. He asks direct questions, not beating around the bush. Such is Ratchet’s nature. But he is sure to be kind about it. Also characteristic of Ratchet.

-He encourages you to open up again. One moment of social rejection and embarrassment is not worth the wallowing in self-pity you are doing now. Pick yourself up and make friends with someone more your speed. Bumblebee for instance.

Que

-He is the first to step in with a “hey now!” When he hears the shouting and berating. There’s just really no need for this kind of behavior. He’s disappointed in his comrades in arms. He excepted more acceptance among these ranks.

-he can see right away the light has drained from your eyes. His distress grows as he observes your behavior for the next day or so. You are obviously emotionally unwell.

-playful teases and careful encouragement coaxes your feelings out of you. He reminds you that it is okay to be chatty and loud and ask questions. Questions spur discussion, discovery, and invention!

Megatron

-Megatron does not suffer fools. They are silenced the first time. They are obliterated the second. He does not have the time nor the patience to be tolerant of pests who cannot remember their place in the pecking order.

-He is less than thrilled at this change in attitude. He liked when you were proud and unapologetic. He liked when you were outspoken and he always knew what you were thinking.

-Megatron is well known for his demand-making tendencies, and he demands to know why this change has come about. He cares not for having fewer combatants among his ranks. Consider them already disposed of.

TFP

Ratchet

-He admits he’s not the most patient of bots, but even he thinks the ridicule in this case was a bit much. Sometimes, you could stand to wait a few seconds for things to be full explained before asking questions, but overall you weren’t obnoxious. Really, there was no reason for it.

-Your new solitude was spark breaking. You were his little buddy, asking him all these questions and being excited. He was always ready to teach you, and was more than a little disappointed when you no longer wanted to learn.

-“You’re alright,” he tells you. “Walk it off.” He is excellent at dusting people off and setting them back on their feet. Really, a miracle worker in disguise with his motivational words. Anyone can buff out a scratch. It takes a real medic to deal with the emotional boo boos.

Wheeljack

-As someone who has been on the receiving end of ridicule bordering on mean-spiritedness from Team Prime, he knew they were bound to snap eventually. He steps in and reminds everyone that that’s not cool, and defends you like the gentleman cowboy he is.

-Things are quiet. Too quiet. The silence will not do. And if you don’t start making noise, he will. And we all no what happens when Wheeljack decides to make noise. This eerie quiet does not sit well with him.

-His approach to emotional healing is relatable stories from his time as a wrecker. He has embarrassing moments, moments of scorn, and every bad situation in between. No big deal. You’ll pull through.

[thebonggirll]

in your league (oikawa x reader) - part one

pairing: oikawa tooru x reader.

genre: angst with happy ending, jealousy, pining.

synopsis: he made it clear how their secret little arrangement in study sessions isn't going to involve any emotions. y/n however, uttered those words in the heat of the moment. but she wanted to see how he reacts to it. it was now or never, and she was willing to come clean about her feelings.

warnings: sexual themes, cursing.

word count: 1.1k

She was always wary of people. Y/N has seen her best friend suffer more than once and she didn't want to be the one to experience the same things. But life really has a way to make you face the things that you most would like to avoid. It was time that she starts facing these feelings she had been harboring. And obviously, her best friend was there to give her a reality check on that. 

"You know you can just tell him about your feelings?" Jooin said.

"Are you insane? No way I am doing that," Y/N said. Her eyes, once again, drifted towards the boy who, as usual, was surrounded by his fangirls. 

"Then stop staring at him like a creep," her friend sighed.

"Hey, have you noticed the girls we are surrounded with? You might wanna be careful about what you say about fangirls," Y/N chuckled.

"All I am saying is that you don't know if he's gonna reject you. Why are you already thinking about so far ahead? Besides, aren't the study sessions going well?" Jooin asked.

"....yes," Y/N looked as if she was in a daze, "just because he's helping me with studies doesn't mean I can do something that is going to crush me emotionally." She could see Oikawa taking pictures with the fangirls, their cheeks squished together.

"I'm just saying-"

"You're not helping Jooin," Y/N started getting annoyed, "You don't think I'm aware of how painfully average I fucking look? Do you think I don't see the difference between the girlfriends he has had and me? For fuck's sake, they even ace in their studies."

Jooin just stared at her, empathizing, and said, "Wanna have a sleepover today?" He couldn't say anything back. Sure, he could provide encouraging words but those will do more harm. She would probably kill him. The thing is, he knew as well how average they were. It's not like his best friend was the only one struggling on the romance ground. Both of them were on the same page.

"I'll let you know later," she said looking back at Jooin, "Thanks for being so cool, bro!"

"Ew, that was cringy," Jooin grumbled getting up from his seat. He waited as Y/N started packing her backpack, a grin on her face for successfully embarrassing him.

"Hey! Are you coming to study today?" A voice boomed from outside the classroom. Y/N's ears reddened as she shouted a 'yes' back to him. She did not want to have this reaction. She knew how painfully obvious she was being by hurrying to get out of the room.

Thinking back on it, Y/N could've never imagined that she would be having study sessions with the hottest person in Aoba Josai High. If she was honest though, the past Y/N didn't find Oikawa 'hottest'. He behaved more like an idol which seemed a lot fake. Maybe his intentions were actually pure and he genuinely appreciated the love from fangirls. What bothered her though was his actions. He played around with their emotions, and it didn't even take much of an effort for him. He would flirt mercilessly with some fangirls, leading to heartbreaks. 

Ofcourse, she knew all about how it felt since she was one of the victims now.

She could feel his eyes on her breasts for quite a while. 

"Can you finish it quickly so that we can fuck?" 

Oh, yeah. This was something that no one knew about them though. About them being in a sexual relationship. 

She never expected someone like him to be attracted to her sexually either. And it was always like this. He would waste no time opening up her shirt with expertise as soon as she was done. His hands were all over her body. It didn't take much time from there. Soon enough the air would be hot around them, sweat covering their bodies. And Oikawa holding her hips tightly, as he moved. Sounds of skin slapping and breathy moans.

Y/N felt her orgasm building up as Oikawa started picking up the pace. She wanted to stay with him after this. Not pretend like nothing happened. It looked way easy for him. 

Like it's just a random Friday for him.

Today was different. When they were done, a wave of shame came over Y/N. 

"You ruined it," Oikawa sighed, an annoyance laced in his voice, "Did you really think we can be in a relationship just because we fuck?"

She was surprised. This was a different Oikawa. This was a mean Oikawa. She started tearing up, but Y/N had her ego as well. She wasn't going to cry in front of a dick. "I didn't mean to...it was just in the heat of the moment," she said.

"You really expected me to believe that?" Oikawa said, "You know I already said not to involve your feelings in this arrangement."

She felt so stupid. When they climaxed, Y/N confessed her feelings. It was in the heat of the moment, yes, but it was also true. And she already knew his answer but still, Y/N wanted to know the reason. "But why can't we be in a relationship? I mean...you like me, right?"

"Oh...I'm sorry for the confusion," Oikawa smiled, "I like you, but not enough to be your boyfriend."

Oh, this was disgusting. Now he was lying. She knew that fucking expression. The look of pity is an answer he gives to let the other person feel better about themselves. 

She couldn't take in the unbearable atmosphere around them any longer. Y/N went to get freshen up in the bathroom and afterward started packing her bag. "You don't have to lie about it. I know I'm not as pretty as the other girls. It would be embarrassing for you," Y/N smiled at him and then started walking towards the door. She expected some kind of comment from him. A denial? Or at least an outburst? 

It was worse that he was completely silent after her statement. Oikawa had a way of doing things and making people feel like shit. And this was one of them. She always knew the kind of a twisted personality he had and yet she allowed herself to fall for him. Y/N was doing a pretty good job of keeping her tears in. You can say, practice makes it perfect. She didn't know how she was going to continue this anymore. This arrangement was clearly over the moment he expressed his annoyance.

"Uh, since we are not doing that anymore. Let's just focus on the study sessions and get this over with. If I find anyone else willing to tutor me, I'll let you know," Y/N said walking out of the door.

Oikawa's eyes stayed still, observing all of her little expressions. He smiled, ".....That would be for the best."

next >

anime — short length

MASTERLIST

[memetaped]

the amazing world of gumball taken from the tv show.

you were trying to emotionally blackmail me into buying you something?

in just three sentences, you proved that i don’t want to know everything.

you know, the man. the man who tells you what to do.

right, you’re lying. i’m coming home now.

it’s the gateway to rock n’ roll, which is the root of all evil.

because someone has to look after your safety, kid.

that’s not the pizza cutter! that’s the dvd!

you need your brain to touch your skull in order to pass out.

you see, sometimes in life, you really have to face the consequences of your actions. and sometimes you just RUN!

it’s only a wasp sting. just gonna suck the poison out.

and that’s why you should never mix pop rocks and soda.

cursing is unsafe. words can hurt.

thank goodness you didn’t stick around to hear that. it’s like my brain got emotional food poisoning and the nearest exit was my mouth.

welcome to punch town. population: you.

that was exactly hard enough to hurt as much as possible without knocking me out.

well, i don’t care what you say. i’m doing it anyway.

the symptoms are regular headaches, stress, facepalming, and an abnormal amount of shouting. it’s called family, and i’m afraid there’s no cure.

you can’t de-hug a person. once you hit the hug level you gotta stay there.

i don’t know. i went too far with the metaphor and lost the plot myself.

that’s it, i’ve had it with your alternative new age nonsense. it started boring and now it’s painful.

you can make anything with cardboard, and no one will notice the difference.

now if you’ll excuse me, i just need to pass out as well.

it’s in these completely normal moments that horror chooses to strike.

can we skip the nonsense part and get to the end, please?

there’s other ways to get stuff without spending money.

actually, that’s really smart. i don’t know why i’m belittling your advice.

no, this isn’t a trashy eighties cop show. this is quality subscription television mysteriously mumbly southern detective.

i think the right thing to do is flail our arms and scream in panic.

actually, that was a little too extreme, but i’ll give you eight out of ten.

but before i go, i just want to say one last thing. thank you for being a friend.

“no need to make a fuss” is a thing people say, but they obviously don’t mean it. it’s all in the subtext.

you’re talking out of your backside, dude.

If i saw that, i’d throw away my eyes, because nothing else in the world will be worth watching anymore.

well, like i’ve always said, when the potato chips are down, the hash come out to brown.

whoops, did i say that out loud? sorry, it was meant to be internal monologue.

that’s it, laugh at me but at least i’m not a mindless zombie going through life doing what they tell me to.

[cf56]

My thoughts on episode 5

SPOILERS for season 3, episode 5 of the Animaniacs reboot.

Yes, we're still doing this. This episode contains Teeniacs, the one I've been obsessing over for months, theorizing about, posting screenshots, answering asks. Did it live up to expectations?

...what do you think? While it turned out to mostly be a funky screenshot collection, and possibly trailer bait, I'm not going to let my extremely overinflated expectations and current ravaged emotional state trick me into saying this segment was bad. It was pretty good for what it was.

The one thing I'm legitimately disappointed about is that we didn't actually get Teen Dot. I wanted to see an aged-up Warner, even if for just a few seconds in a joke segment. Turns out they were the same age and the perspective of the animation was playing tricks on us. Well, maybe alternate Dot was a little taller. Not anything drastic, though.

We did still get to see an alternately aged Dot.

We've already seen baby Dot multiple times in the past, though, so it's not as exciting.

I liked the way Yakko said "bro" and acted as Wakko's wingman.

I enjoyed seeing this, especially how excited he sounded to say it:

Does this mean Yakko is 15 now? Maybe we really do have an aged-up Warner in this segment.

I thought the brief vampire transitions were cool to see.

Teeniacs.

The most disappointing part of this segment for me was how it was a minute and a half long, and then we got no Warners for the rest of the episode.

I don't have much to say about Starbox and Cindy. What could I say? Cindy is proven to be a malicious little monster who hurts Starbox on purpose. I can respect it.

The main thing to talk about in this episode is obviously Groundmouse Day. It is officially confirmed that Pinky is not, in fact, the genius. Right, guys?

I liked how this episode focused on the obvious fact that Brain's schemes are mostly thwarted by stupid little twists of fate, and if he could just have a few redos, pretty much every single one of them would work. It's always super satisfying to me when a cartoon character who has been failing to do something for an entire show finally breaks through and does it, such as Brain successfully taking over the world.

I enjoyed Brain getting one over on the surfer dude and being unapologetically pleased when the guy is emotionally affected by it. He deserved that one.

Edit: Oh, and I liked the furry joke.

So yeah, not going to lie, there wasn't much here for me in this episode. It felt like filler, especially because the main plot of the episode isn't even resolved in this episode. Almost wish they would just have done a full Pinky and the Brain episode focusing entirely on Groundmouse Day.

Also, shout out to this person for being entirely correct.

I really don't know how to rank this one. None of it was bad. None of it blew my socks off. There were some fun sights in Teeniacs, but that was about it for me. I can't really judge Groundmouse Day yet because the rest is in the next episode. It could really go above any of the episodes except episode 3 and below any of them as well. I'm just going to go off of which ones I would rather rewatch, which means this episode will be ranked last. If I was a huge Pinky and the Brain fan, it would be different for sure.

My current ranking of season 3 episodes:

Episode 3

Episode 4

Episode 2

Episode 1

Episode 5

I encourage you to add to the discussion of this episode if you want, but don't say anything about any of the episodes that come after. Thanks for sticking with me.

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[c-is-for-circinate]

Wait, isn't "anti" stuff more like "anti-pedophilia" and stuff? Like, you have a point about anti-porn attitudes, but from what I've heard just "anti" on its own means against stuff like kid porn and incest porn and legitimately f*cked up sh*t like that.

Okay!  So this, I think, is actually a great example of what I was talking about, and a really useful thing to understand.  (CW rape, child abuse, etc)

Smarter people than me have written much better essays about why policing thoughtcrimes is a bad road to go down, and I will probably reblog some of them next time they cross my dash for more context.  What I want to talk about is the trigger mechanism, the ‘oh, this looks like danger!!!’ immune response in how we look at different kinds of porn, and how that applies to anti culture.

Here’s the thing: I am anti-pedophilia.  I think that, for most people, that’s a stance that largely goes without saying!  Adults who prey on children are bad.  I’m also against incest; relatives who prey on their family members are bad.  Above all I oppose rape.  Sexual predation of any kind is bad.  In fact, I’d say that’s the most important item on the list.  There is plenty of room to argue about where the lines are between ‘adult’ and ‘child’ and how teenagers fit in the middle, and there’s plenty of room to get historical about the lines between ethically terrible incest, distasteful-but-bearable “aristocratic inbreeding” between distant cousins, and the kind of consanguinity that tends to develop in a small town where everyone’s vaguely related to everyone else by now anyway.  The core of the issue is consent, and it has always been consent.  Pedophilia and incest are horrific because they are rape scenarios where the abuser has far more power and their victim far fewer resources to cope, both practically and emotionally; because harm to children is, to us as a culture, worse than harm to adults, for a lot of very valid reasons; and because they constitute betrayal of trust the victim should have been able to put in their abuser as well as rape--but they are all rape scenarios, and that’s why they’re awful. 

These things are bad.  It is good for us to have a social immune response system that recognizes these things when they’re happening and insists we step in.  That is a good thing to develop!  It helps us, as a society.  It can help the people being victimized.  It’s the same reason educators and childcare workers in the US are all mandated reporters, why we do background checks on people working near kids.  These things happen, and they’re terrible, and it’s good that we try to be aware and prepared for them.  (Though obviously studies show we’re a lot less good at protecting the vulnerable than we’d like to pretend we are.)

The question is: why does that same social immune response trigger, and trigger so angrily, in response to fiction?

Anti culture is fundamentally an expression of that social immune response.  Specifically, it’s that social immune response when it is set off by a situation that, while it has some similarities to the very bad real-life crime of sexual predation including pedophilia and incest, is in and of itself harmless.

If you’re instinct is to flare up in anger or dismissiveness because I’m calling these things harmless, I want to ask you to just take a deep breath and bear with me for a bit longer.  What you’re feeling right now is an allergic reaction.

Humans tell and read and listen to stories about “legitimately fucked up shit” all the time.  It’s part of the human condition.  It’s part of how we process those things happening, not just to use, but to other people in the world around us.  It’s part of how we process completely unrelated fucked-up shit, playing with fears and furies and insecurities that we all have, through so may layers of fiction that we don’t even recognize them any more, playing with power dynamics in metaphor and making characters suffer for fun.  Aside from the fact that literally all stories do this to some extent or another; aside from the fact that drawing lines between ‘ok that’s good storytelling’ and ‘that’s too fucked-up to write about’ is arbitrary, subjective, and dangerous in its own right; aside from all of that, these stories are stories.  All of them. 

Even the ones about rape, about incest, about pedophilia.  They’re words on a page.  No real children were harmed, touched, or even glanced at in the making of this work of fiction.  This story, pornographic though it may be, is part of a conversation between consenting adults.  (And if a teenager lies about their age to consent, that is a different problem altogether.)

Stories in and of themselves, no matter what they’re about, are no more dangerous than a crate full of oranges.  Which is to say: utterly harmless, unless all you have to eat is oranges, all day every day, and you find yourself dying slowly of nutrient deficiency--which is why representation matters.  Or unless someone wields one deliberately, violently, as a tool to cause harm, and someone gets acid in their eye--which is the fault of the person holding the orange. And unless you happen to be allergic to citrus.

The key here is this twofold understanding:  First, the thing that hurts you can also have value to others.  Real, legitimate value.  Whether you’ve undergone trauma and certain story elements are straight-up PTSD triggers or you just don’t like orange juice, that story, those tropes, that crate of oranges may be somewhere between icky and fundamentally abhorrent--but we understand that that is still your reaction.  Even if you don’t understand how anybody could ever enjoy it; even if every single person you surround yourself with is as sensitive and disgusted and itchy about this thing that makes your eyes hurt and your throat stop working as you; that doesn’t make it true for everyone.  That doesn’t make oranges poisonous.  No real children were involved in the writing of this story.  It is words on a page.

But, secondly: the thing that has value to others can also hurt you.  Just because a story isn’t inherently poison doesn’t mean it can’t cause you, personally, pain.  That’s what a PTSD trigger is: an allergic reaction, psychological anaphylaxis, a brain that’s trying so hard to protect its own from a threat that isn’t actually present (but was once, and the brain is trained to respond) that it causes far more harm and misery than the trigger itself possibly could.  And no, it’s not just people with PTSD who sometimes get hurt by stories.  There are many, many ways a story can poke the part of your brain that says, this is Bad, I don’t like this, I don’t want to be here.  The story is still, always, every time, pixels on a screen and ink on paper.  The story causes no physical harm.  But it can poke your brain into misery, it can stir up your emotions, it can make you want to cringe and run away.  It can make you want to scream and fight and go after the author who brought this thing into existence.  It can make you hurt.

This is an allergic reaction.  This is your brain and body, your reflexes and instincts, trying to protect you from something that isn’t really happening.  And just like a literal allergic reaction, it can do actual harm to you if it gets set off.  This is real.  The fact that stories can upset you to the point of pain and mental/emotional injury is real, even though it’s coming from your own brain and not the story itself.  There are stories you shouldn’t read.  There are stories I shouldn’t read, regret reading, will never read, because they hurt me.  That doesn’t mean they’re the same stories that would hurt you.  That doesn’t mean they don’t have value.

And, finally:

If getting upset about stories is fundamentally an individual person’s allergic reaction, their brain freaking out and firing off painful survival instincts in the face of a thing that isn’t, in and of itself, a threat?  Then the anti movement is a cultural allergic reaction.

Fandom as a whole has a pretty active immune system, which doesn’t mean we have a good immune system.  We try very hard to be aware of all the viruses and -isms and abuse and manipulation and cruelty, both systematic and individual, that exists around and within our community.  We’re primed and ready to shout about things at all times.  The anti movement is that system, that culture, screaming and shouting and fighting at a harmless thing on a grand scale.  It wants to stop that thing, that scary awful thing that trips all of its well-primed danger sensors, at all costs.  It’ll swell up and block off our airways (our archives) if it has to.  It’ll turn on the body it came from.  It’s scared and protective and trying to fight, and it’s ready to fight and destroy itself.

Luckily, fans and fanfic and fandom and fan culture are a lot bigger and older than they often get credit for, and it’s not like these cultural allergies are anything new.  We could talk about shippers and slashers in the X-Files fandom in the 90s.  We could talk about the birth of fandom in the days of Star Trek.  We could talk about censorship and book burning going back centuries.  We survived that and we’ll survive this, too.

But god, does the anti movement my throat and eyes itch.  Man is it irritating, and sometimes a little suffocating, to realize how many stories just aren’t getting told out of fear of what the antis will say.  And that’s the real danger, I think.  What are we losing that would have so much value to someone?  What are we missing out?

[brian-in-finance]

Starz

A Conversation with Caitríona Balfe: ‘Outlander’ and Claire’s “Complex” Season

"Diana was always telling the story of a marriage. Falling in love was just the very beginning; it's staying in love and it's keeping the love ignited that is the real story."

Caitríona Balfe joins Awards Daily‘s Shadan Larki to discuss all things Outlander—Claire’s emotionally-charged season, a very devoted fanbase, and crafting a performance that transcends time.

The passion for Outlander continues to intensify. Having just concluded its sixth season on Starz, the series is still gaining steam. And those now-legendary love scenes between stars Caitríona Balfe and Sam Heughan continue to set hearts ablaze. But, alongside the epic love story is a show that explores family, trauma, and loss (among so many other threads)—all centered around a woman and her perseverance through it all. Outlander wouldn’t be the phenomenon it is today without Balfe and Heughan in these lead roles.

Balfe’s performance—her ability to layer love, pain, sensuality, and compassion— is a wonder to watch.

Read on as Balfe opens up about her approach to filming Outlander‘s most difficult moments.

Awards Daily: Hi Caitríona, how are you?

Caitríona Balfe: I’m doing well, thank you.

AD: This is so exciting for me. I’ve wanted to speak to you for so long. I so appreciate this.

CB: My pleasure.

AD: You know, Outlander fans are famously kind of intense, but I have to tell you, you know, I’m 27, and in my group of friends, Outlander is the show… I had a friend plan an entire trip to Scotland so that she could visit all of the big Outlander sites.

CB: Oh wow! Well, I love to hear that because, traditionally, people come up and say, “Our mom loves your show!” [laughs].

AD: No! [Laughs].

CB: So, it’s really nice to hear the younger crew [likes it too].

AD: We’re obsessed. But I mean, what is it like to be a part of a show that has permeated the culture so much? Because you know, that is a rare thing when you think of it.

CB: Yeah. I mean, God, you know, this doesn’t happen very often—to be on a show that gets to seven seasons and also has such a crossover in terms of the people who watch it. And I think it’s grown so much over the last couple of years, with people finding it on streaming services and things like that. But, it’s been amazing. I mean, it’s hard to really analyze exactly how it is when you’re so in it.

AD: Right.

CB: When we first started the show, we had no idea what it would be, but it’s been amazing.

I think it’s been incredible to see the friendships that have grown up through this fandom and how it has touched people’s lives. I mean, to be a part of something that has become part of the fabric of people’s lives is really quite amazing, you know?

AD: Those strong opinions of the show and Claire—does that ever influence what goes on in the show, or your performance, or your own opinion in any way?

CB: No. I mean, I think I’m pretty good at having my own stubborn opinion [laughs]. You have to have a very personal connection to your character, and that has to be quite private. I think probably the writers might listen to what is being said, and I think it’s always good to have one ear open and be aware because obviously your fans are the people who are buying the show at the end of the day. But, sometimes, it’s the smallest group that shouts the loudest. So, you have to also have a very centered version for yourself, what makes the best version of the show, and what is the truest adaptation of these books that retains the essence of what it is.

AD: I don’t want to infringe on your privacy, but I know that you were pregnant when you shot this season. Can you tell me about that? There were scenes that were quite brutal. I mean, Claire is assaulted at one point. Then, in another pivotal moment, she has to cut a baby from a womb in order to save it. What was it like to film these scenes while you were expecting?

CB: Yeah, it was intense. I’m not going to lie. I probably could have worked out the timing a little bit better, but these things happen when they happen. You know, I think we were shooting during the lockdown. I was pregnant; I was very early pregnant when we started shooting. So, in the beginning, it wasn’t too bad.

But, when we got to the scenes where Claire had to perform the emergency C-section, our medical advisor, who is also called Dr. Claire, who was also pregnant at the time—and she and I were talking through this procedure and talking about what we were going to do. And we were both like, ‘I can’t believe we have to do this. This is absolutely horrible.’ But, at the same time, when you’re shooting, you can remove yourself from the process; you get clicked into the character, and that’s sort of the mindset with which you go through these things. I think one of the hardest things for me personally was the scene in the church where they have that little baby coffin and just sitting there waiting to do that scene, and it was just…When you’re pregnant, that’s the last thing you want to be seeing or touching, and that was hard.

But, I did enjoy, weirdly, the kind of material I was given for Claire this season. It was a very complex storyline for her, and it was a good challenge aside from all of that stuff.

AD: And how do you approach those really difficult scenes? How do you allow yourself to go to a place where you’re able to access those emotions while also protecting your own mental well-being? That’s a fine balance. And I just wonder how much of an impact that has on you personally.

CB: You know, I think early on when we started this series, I was very green, and it wasn’t as easy to sort of separate myself from the character. And if you have a big emotional scene, you’re to pull on anything that’s available to you because you don’t really have the experience or the techniques.

But, nowadays, I’ve learned how to put myself in those zones, whether through music—it’s almost like you go into a little meditation, and it’s very separate from me, Caitríona. You know, I think it’s really unhealthy if you’re trying to use stuff from your own personal life. I mean, no matter what, you’re filtering anything through yourself, so you’re using yourself no matter what, but I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. I think at a certain point, you have to be able to sort of leave it on the set and walk away, and whether you go home and you have a nice bath and wash the day off, or something like that. But you have to learn to keep yourself safe in this business and how to separate those things.

AD: Are you allowed to tell me any of the songs on your Outlander calming playlist?

CB: Oh, I don’t know. I’m a little bit like, if I talk about them, then they might stop working. [Laughs].

AD: That’s absolutely fair [laughs].

CB: It could be anything! I have a few in rotation, but sometimes they stop working. It’s like you just get into a zone—it’s almost like a meditation. You go into a particular zone and it’s where you’re able to access your feelings in a very direct way.

AD: One of the big plot points that was much discussed this season is that Claire turns to ether, to drugs, to cope with the trauma that she’s been through. And I wondered what your take on that was as someone who is having to compartmentalize and embody that trauma.

CB: Yeah. Well, you know what, when they first proposed this to me, I was like, ‘Really? Okay.’ It wasn’t exactly a natural route that I would have expected for Claire, but actually it was really exciting and it was really challenging, I think. Because here is somebody – as you said, who is so used to compartmentalizing things, from being a doctor, from being a product of her time. I think women in that time were expected to be able to just swallow whatever happens to them— put it in a little box, and just continue on, you know?

And she’s got such a skill at that.

But then there is this huge rupture. There is this trauma that is so big and so overwhelming that it kind of deconstructs and blows the walls off all of these neat little boxes that she’s been building up for years, and everything comes out. And what I really liked, and we worked really hard with the writers to get this was the sort of apex of where that storyline went to. She’s suppressing, and she’s escaping, and she’s using ether as a means to kind of dampen these voices that are now coming up in her mind.

Claire is somebody that takes on the responsibility of everybody around her. What happens is these voices, and her deepest, darkest fears are then manifested as this voice of Lionel. He was the manifestation of her guilt, fears, and all the things that she could never really admit to herself. And of course, most of them are not true. And we all carry around things that we tell ourselves, in our worst moments, that aren’t true—but those are our biggest fears. And so, it was really interesting to explore what those might be for Claire and to get that voice right. I thought it was really interesting that we see her sort of unraveling in that way. We’ve never seen it before, and it also allows growth for her.

You know, through any events like this, what’s as interesting as the deconstruction, is the reconstruction. And I think it’s been really lovely to kind of watch Claire find these new skills. She can’t just keep suppressing things anymore.

She has to share, she has to speak, and you know, we’ve continued that this season. And it’s really lovely to see that —the fact that with her healing, there’s been a lot of growth as well.

AD: And how do you see her relationship with Jamie? Because you know, these aren’t the young kids we met in the first season. They’ve been through so much together, and so much has changed for them, even in the physicality of those intimate scenes for which the show is known. How have you adapted or changed your approach?

CB: Well, you know, I mean they’re old, Sam and I are old, we’ve all gotten old. [Laughs]. We’ve been on this show for so long! No, it’s beautiful. I think it’s really nice to be playing this couple that has so much history and has so much understanding of each other, and has weathered so many storms together. I think that’s a beautiful thing. And, you know, Diana [Gabaldon] was always telling the story of a marriage. Falling in love was just the very beginning; it’s staying in love and it’s keeping the love ignited that is the real story. It’s great. Sam and I have such a shorthand with each other. We’ve been through so much together. I think we have such an understanding of each other, and that’s helped so much with playing this couple that has life between them.

And it’s important— we talk a lot with the writers about: what is the difference between a couple that’s been together for so many years and yet they still have passion, but it can’t be the same as it was in young love. It has to evolve and it has to deepen and it has to change and morph into other things. And it’s been really lovely, being able to explore that. And intimacy that isn’t necessarily always just sex. It’s just so much deeper. It’s been really great having the longevity that we’ve had, to be able to explore things on a really deeper level.

AD: As you mentioned, when you started Outlander, you were new to acting, But now you’re a producer on the show and you’re coming off the incredible success of Belfast. What has all of this taught you about the industry, and has it informed what you want to do moving forward?

CB: Wow. That’s a big question. You know, I’ve been so lucky with the show. I’ve learned so much. I’ve learned so much just about the process. Having stepped into the role of a producer, I’ve learned so much about behind the scenes and what it takes to get a show made, and what it takes to continue a show. And it’s definitely something that I want to do again and again.

Sometimes just being an actor can be great because you can just focus on one thing and put all of your energy into that. But it’s also really lovely to have a greater holistic view of a production and the storytelling. I think one of the things that I’ve learned, but I think everybody’s learning—is that women’s stories, female stories, female-led stories—they sell.

There’s an appetite for them, and it’s not just other women—it’s everybody.

Our show, it’s not just a woman’s story. It’s a very balanced view of relationships. And I think, you know, we… well, when I was your age [laughs], we were fed a lot of male perspectives and male-centric stories, and I’m just super happy that I’m working in a time where that is changing and has changed quite a bit.

https://www.awardsdaily.com/2022/06/20/a-conversation-with-caitriona-balfe-outlander-and-claires-complex-season/

Remember… I think it’s been incredible to see the friendships that have grown up through this fandom and how it has touched people’s lives. — Caitríona Balfe

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

NSFW with Chuck Grant

~ ~ ~

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

 Charles Grant is a walking example of “acts like a badass, is actually a softie” bc BOY, IS HE HARD (lol) TO GET A READ ON. 

When you first start fucking, he doesn’t really have the instinct to stick around after and soak up the afterglow- mostly bc that’s not the dynamic that any of his previous relationships operated under, but also bc he’s like Lieb and doesn’t feel comfortable being vulnerable and potentially having you reject him. He only confidently leaves the first time, and then he judges whether to stay or not on how you look at him as he makes to get dressed after the second time you boink. If you want your space, he’ll go and be back the next day as long as you let him, but if you look even a little bit offended or hurt, he’s getting his ass back in that bed and doing whatever he can to get that sad look out of your eyes.

When he does stay, he’s down to give you whatever he can manage. 

He’s all for slowly kissing you while trailing his fingertips up and down your side, but if you just want to sleep beside him he is more than cool with it (he’ll probably still pet you a lil bit after you fall asleep bc he’s soft for you but shh shh shh don’t tell anyone). The only thing he isn’t very good at doing is pillow talk, especially right after sex. He’s too worried about saying the wrong thing and fucking up what he’s managed to establish with you. 

It isn’t until after he’s shot that he realizes how nice it feels to have someone else take care of him, and when you do so after sex it solidifies the fact that you don’t see him as a burden- you want him and you want to stay. Thank god, too. He doesn’t think he could recover without you (again, not that he’d ever tell you that)

 B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

 Your AhhhhhhHSSSSssssSSSSSs!!!!!!

Oh wow, look at you- owner of the cutest butt he’s ever seen. Can he put his hands on it? Can he squeeze it? Please please puh-lease can you let him watch it jiggle as he fucks you? If you’ve answered yes to any of these questions, then you’ve made each and every single one of his dreams come true. 

He doesn’t discriminate in his love for butts- he’s an equal-opportunity appreciator of the Majesty of the Female Ass™. If it changes size throughout your relationship, he’ll love it even more. Absolutely shameless.

On himself? He likes his legs- especially his thighs. 

He likes how strong they are, despite how much he hates Sobel for getting them to their current strength re: Currahee. But he gets over it quickly bc oh wow is he happy with their endurance while trying to keep up with you, both sexually and otherwise. The day he realized you could ride yourself to orgasm on them was the day he died and went to heaven and was sent back to sin again.

 C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

 He likes cumming on your pubic mound and then watching it slide down your pussy, thank you very much. If you guys are trying for kids or in a position where you don’t have to worry about not having kids, he’ll cum inside of you happily but oh wow he likes watching it slide down your lower lips. BONUS POINTS if he gets to catch it on his thumb and either stick it in your mouth OR circle your clit with it in order to get you off one more time.

Also, you asking him where he wants to cum on you gets him hot under the proverbial collar. 

 D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

 He’d do literally anything for you if you’d let him put his finger in your ass. He will genuinely kill an individual of your choice if you let him put his cock there instead. What a perv (jk it takes a lot of vulnerability for some people to convey their wants and desires to their partners plz remember that this has been a PSA).

The one thing he’ll never actually tell you about... EVER is that for a little while after meeting you for the first time in Georgia, he started hooking up with a girl who he didn’t realize (until much later) bore a striking resemblance to you. He’d had to end the relationship when he straight-up called out your name when he came (he was a lil drunk, just tipsy enough to slip up) and full-on booked it out of there bc not only had he pissed the girl off, but his shout had woken up her family- namely her very angry father- and barely escaped with his life.

 E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

 He’s had two lovers before you, but one of them was really experienced and patient and bless that woman. All he really has to do is learn what you like and he’ll commit it to memory. 

And you better be damn sure that he’ll use that knowledge against you/for his benefit. 

 F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

 Doggy style for all the reasons mentioned before. Or reverse cowgirl. Or normal cowgirl. His hands + your butt= dream combo.

 G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

 He can be goofy, but more than anything else he likes it when you’re goofy. Chuck can get a little too in his own head at times, which can lead to frustration/self-doubt- ESPECIALLY while recovering from his brain injury. You reminding him that sex is meant to be fun does him a huge favor, bc poor lamb will forget that every so often.

So please, nibble at his earlobe in that way that tickles him. Make a quip at the expense of one of your friends. Mock the silly sound of the moan you just let slip out.

 H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

 He’s not going to groom unless you tell him to, but he also doesn’t feel like you need to groom for him, either. Chuck’s not afraid to admit how much his personal hygiene has improved since meeting you. 

I can promise you that if you’re heavily invested in skin/hair care, he’ll probably be just as into building his own routine. 

 I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

 You always have Chuck’s full and undivided attention during sex, but he won’t necessarily show it unless he gets the guy feeling/you tell him that you want him to be. He’s going to whisper sexy things into your ear, call you a good girl (if not his good girl), and do everything in his power (at the time, at least (he can get a little distracted if you’re doing something particularly sexy)) to make sure you feel just how appreciated you are. He gets more and more confident in his PDA as your relationship progresses, but when it’s just you two? You’ll never meet a bigger sweetheart.

 J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

 Ok, so I’m deciding for you that mutual masturbation is a thing that you’re both into, m’kay? 

I'm also making the executive decision that you really enjoy watching him get himself off. You walked in on him one time, before you’d had sex, and were so stunned that you just watched in rapt attention until awkwardly backing out of the room and slamming the door shut. He’d nearly cum right then and there, and it got you extremely aroused. 

The next time you see each other, at some Georgia bar while on a pass, you offhandedly mention that you wish you hadn’t left and FROM THAT DAY ON he always lets you know when he’s feeling the urge and how you’re more than welcome to watch.

And when you do? It’s always a much shorter experience than he intends bc wow how hot are you?

 K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

 Frottage! Dry Humping! Grinding!

Allow me to explain:

In the months following D-Day, it was quickly understood that being on the frontlines meant having traditional forms of sex were no longer on the table (hehe) for you two. You’d experimented with rucking your trousers down your thighs, his thighs, both of your thighs, and each time it was a disaster (with one of the worst times ending up falling onto Tab after he’d inadvertently opened a door that Chuck had been fucking you against. Chuck had nearly thrown fists when Tab refused to look aware from your bare ass.)

So yall started grinding- quickly finding out that the bunches of fabric separating your bodies not only led to new forms of stimulation, but it also meant that you both started to utilize dirty talk. There’s something about your trembling lips at his ear, your warm whispers of ‘so good’ and ‘is this really all you need, Chuck? Me, writhing on you like this? What does that say about you, you desperate boy??’

Boy’s bought a one-way ticket to Boner City, USA.

PLUS! What a way to keep warm during Bastogne? Everyone is so jealous that they don’t have a super foxy megahot babe like you to grind upon.

 L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

 Hmm…..is saying anywhere a cop-out? Because he’s down for anywhere, he’ll follow your lead and rise to the occasion. Such a perv i s2g.

 M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

 ♫ YOOOUUUUUUUU!!!!!! ♫

You have this one eyebrow quirk you do when you’re in the mood, and it just so happens to be similar to the brow raise you give someone trying to outsmart you (which is another turn on for him- you putting some overly-confident sonofabitch back in their place after allowing them to mansplain at you for a little bit. First boner he ever got (since meeting you, obviously) came after witnessing you telling Joe Liebgott to stfu in cutting German after he’d made some off-color comment about your ass.) 

So, more often than not, he'll get a little turned on when you argue with people. Maybe even when you argue with him- who knows? not me. (i totally do, and he totally is)

 N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

 Any sort of pain play, on either of you. 

After being in genuine agony for so long while recovering from all of the surgeries, the idea of seeking any more pain out just doesn’t make sense. Chuck also doesn’t want to see you in pain- even if you’re asking him to make you feel it. You’d both suffered through the pain of hunger, frostbite, insect bites, sunburn, and just war in general (all of which had emotionally taken a toll on him bc he felt completely helpless and hated that he couldn’t do anything to take your hurt away). 

Sex and pain just doesn’t go together for him. Sorry not sorry 

 O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

 He loves having you go down on him, adores the way your eyes look up at him as if you’re challenging him to withstand your beautiful ministrations. 

He also is a big fan of going down on you, but PLEASE PLEASE PUH-LEASE ride his face. Good lord. 

He’s a sucker (teehee) for it- something about you using him like it’s all you keep him around for gets him hot. You also get this certain snarl on your lips when you are getting close that makes him lose his goddamn mind bc WOW YOU ARE SO ATTRACTIVE and HOLY SHIT YOU CHOSE HIM OF ALL PEOPLE? WOWOWOW.

 P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

 He’ll follow your lead/body language in terms of pace. Most sex sessions shift between both slow and deep as well as fast and hard anyway, so he is a fan of both. 

 Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

 A necessary evil, as far as Chuck is concerned. He’ll do them, and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy the spontaneity of them, but he would prefer not to be rushed when he’s with you.

 R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

 He was riskier until that one time Tab caught you guys, after which he chilled out. Which you are thankful for, bc you’ve spoken with Lieb’s wife and BOY have those two gotten into some embarrassing situations bc of how risky that kid is. 

 S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

 The longest he's gone is 4 rounds (it was celebratory sex on VE day, with both of you in the best shape you'd ever been in and too high on relief to listen to your bodies. Ya'll were sore and dehydrated afterward but LORD was it worth it.

 T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

 He’d be very open to the idea of toys! On you, he’s automatically cool with it, but it does take him a little bit to get his head around the idea of using toys himself. Again, 40s/50s= somewhat repressed discussion about deviations from the traditional male sexuality- but Chuck is more willing and ready to challenge the societal norms than most. Very sexy of him.

 U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

 He always intends to tease you, but more often than not he gets so turned on that he can’t follow that intention through. You are aware of this and ABSOLUTELY weaponize this knowledge. Get it, fam. 

During day-to-day conversation, however, you both tease each other constantly. It’s been like that since you’ve met each other- always making innuendos and one-upping the other and for some reason that never even went away.

When Chuck woke up and the doctors brought you in to see him, the first thing he told you was that you looked terrible. When you’d replied with a sniff, a smile and a “guess the doc’s were full of shit when they said there was no change in your vision, huh?”- Chuck had smiled so hard it hurt.

 V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

 He’s a choked moan kind of guy. His face gets all scrunched up and his body shakes and he curses quietly under his breath (it’s vv cute and hot, FYI). he doesn’t even try and be quiet on purpose, he just seems to lose the ability to be vocal, tbh. If he’s drinking or if it’s been a hot minute since yall have gotten to do the do, he’ll probably be a bit louder. Like, maybe one loud cry of your name (see: the letter D)

It doesn’t bother him if you make sounds at all, just so you know. If anything, he likes that he’s a quiet cummer bc then he can hear any and all of your sounds.

 W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

 biting your ass while eating you out from behind is *bang* *bang* *bang* *click* *cash register noise*.

Especially if you squeal and smack at him after he does it.

 X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

 Average in all respects but OH MAN does he know how to work it to his advantage. Get ready for a wild ride, my dude. 

 Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

 Higher post-war, tbh. Chuck had had to be on bed rest for so long that he thought he may never get the chance to have sex again, so he totally makes a point to indulge in you every chance that he can get (but he’s cool if you say no, too).

But, as I mentioned in ‘risk’, he’s not going to be humping your leg in public or anything (ok but imagine if you were a dom to his sub and you made him do that holy fuck)

 Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

 He does not sleep very well, poor bb. He will be asleep but his mind will be working through all kinds of things ranging from PTSD to what shoes he wanted to wear to dinner with your parents that weekend. Good thing there’s a remedy to this ailment- your pussy sex with you!

While he can’t konk out immediately, he is able to relax. He will allow himself to get lost in the rhythm of your breathing, the weight of your hand on his arm or your arm wrapped around his middle. He will sometimes nuzzle into you as you’re drifting off to sleep, and when you press a kiss to his forehead he finally feels safe.

~ ~ ~

taglist: @sunsetmando​ @televisionboy​ @now-im-a-belieber​ @tvserie-s-world​ @holdingforgeneralhugs​ @mrseasycompany​ @itswormtrain​ @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ 

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC is Half Demon and Blah Blah Blah-

Time for the Group Retreat!

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Lessons 5-6 Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

I’m quite hyped for this one, ladies, gents, and esteemed readers! For simplicity’s sake, since this is before M!MC and A!MC arrive, L!MC will go back to being referred to as just MC. Enjoy the Headcanons!

Since the previous Underground Tomb incident ended much less violently, Lucifer is now more worried than angry about MC’s rampant shennaniganery.

Like... his kid was poking holes in his totally foolproof “Your cow-uncle went to live on a farm in the human world” story. What if MC somehow got into the attic and got hurt?!

It didn’t help that they were still in this weird phase of their father/child relationship. On one hand, Lucifer obviously cares for his kid, and his kid likes him... but it’s also only been less than three months and we all know how emotionally constipated Lucifer is.

MC’s also getting REAL sus of all the secrets their dear old dad is keeping... doesn’t help that they STILL haven’t went up into the attic.

Anyhoo~ the announcement for the retreat was a barrel of laughs.

“I’m proposing, a group retreat!”

Everyone met Diavolo’s announcement with the exact same confused reaction. It’s like the entire assembly hall was doing the ‘Guy Blinking’ meme.

“A... group retreat?” Lucifer repeated slowly. “For what reason exactly, Lord Diavolo?”

The Crown Prince was giddy with excitement as he explained. “MC told me about their middle school overnight trip and it sounded like it would be quite fun!”

Simeon, Luke, MC, and Solomon were all seated next to each other in the ‘exchange student seats of less importance’. Luke leaned over and whispered a question to MC.

“Why are you so friendly with the crown prince?”

MC smirked and shrugged. “Lucifer had the Demon-Flu and couldn’t go meet with Lord Diavolo last week so I went for him. Lord Diavolo’s surprisingly bad at Connect Four but has really good luck in Snakes and Ladders.”

Luke’s jaw dropped in complete and utter shock and horror.

“We’re playing CandyLand and the Game of Life next time, want to come?” MC added.

“Play CandyLand... with him..?” Luke looked at Diavolo, who was still explaining his plan for the retreat, then looked back at MC. “I’ll only go to shield you from his corrupting influence.”

“Yeah... Corrupting...” MC had to hold back a laugh at the thought of Diavolo, who during MC’s visit lit up like a Christmas tree upon being called ‘Dia’ and believed that Mood Rings were the greatest human invention ever, being a corrupting influence.

“MC! Torture dungeon or no!?” MC was snapped out of their conversation by Mammon shouting at them from his seat.

“What?”

“Do ya think there’s a torture dungeon under the castle, or not?”

“I’m not sure,” MC turned to Diavolo. “Lord Diavolo, is there a torture dungeon under the Demon Lord’s Castle?”

There is in fact, no torture dungeon. Presumably...

Everyone packed up and headed out to the Demon Lord’s Castle!

The fabulous seven all broke several speed limits and traffic laws in order to be there early. Listen, they had to get there before Purgatory Hall, it was a matter of pride.

Besides, what’s the Royal guard going to do? Arrest six of the seven rulers of hell and a kid? Ha. No. Not when Diavolo controls their paychecks.

The rooming situation remained the same, Asmo, Simeon, and MC were roomed together, and MC got to watch Asmo get psychologically profiled by Simeon. It was truly a sight to behold.

MC was nice enough to assure Asmo that they really liked him and thought he was very sweet.

Asmo, not used to being complimented on his personality, almost started openly weeping.

So, the tour of the Demon Lord’s Castle began! Asmo got yelled at by his ex in the painting and the usual batch of idiots got sucked into the catacombs under the castle.

Lucifer wasn’t terribly sure how or if he should express his concern for MC being stuck in the labyrinth.

All these new fatherly feelings of worry are very very odd. He didn’t worry this much for Satan, mainly because Satan was usually the threat.

Even as a baby...

Lucifer found himself checking his DDD every few minutes to see if MC had texted or called from wherever the painting dragged them to, never mind that if they did text he’d hear the phone ding.

“Lucifer, don’t worry too much,” Diavolo patted Lucifer on the shoulder, a bright smile on his face. “Your brothers and MC will be perfectly fine! There’s nothing too dangerous in the catacombs that they wouldn’t be able to take care of.”

Resigning himself to the fact that MC was under the care of his last choices for babysitting, Lucifer put away his DDD. “I know they’ll be fine, but I’m not overly pleased with the situation.” He shot a glare at Helene in the portrait, who rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Lucifer worrying about someone, I’m truly, genuinely shocked.” Hearing Satan’s attempt at goading him, Lucifer, flawless demon that he is, resisted the urge to throw his DDD at his brother.

“Quiet, Satan.”

————

“WHY THE FUCK IS A SNAKE DOWN HERE?!”

“ITS HENRY 1.0!”

“YEAH THAT REALLY CLEARS STUFF UP, LEVI!”

MC and Levi continued their screaming match as the group ran for dear life from a giant snake.

Yeah... nothing the brothers couldn’t handle... sure, Lord Diavolo...

They made it out of the scary catacombs... don’t worry.

Lucifer did that parent-thing where he cleaned the catacomb dust off MC’s face with a napkin.

Yay! Parenting!

Failed pillow fight attempt #1 happened that evening. Because Mammon was obsessed with being the fun-uncle and saw his brothers encroaching on his place as favourite uncle.

MC doesn’t know how to break it to him that he’ll probably always be the favourite uncle and he doesn’t have to be such a dumbass to keep his spot.

Scavenger hunt went on as canon dictates.

Asmo had his diva tantrum and stormed off, but MC also wanted to win so they didn’t go after him.

Clearly expecting someone to go beg him to come back, Asmo was very annoyed when no one went after him.

“Um, helloooo? Anyone going to comfort me~?”

“Nope.”

“Well I don’t want your comfort anyway, SOLOMON.”

It was very close, L!MC insisted their loss came from sabotage. No evidence was found but just LOOK at Satan’s face.

Time for the Formal Dance~

If you’re wondering why Luke didn’t say anything when MC was suddenly poofed into their demon form, you’re assuming that Mammon wasn’t in on the “let’s prank the chihuahua” plan.

“Mammon..? Is MC behind you?”

“Nope! Why?”

MC was able to get to the other side of the ballroom with Luke none the wiser! Hell yeah, nothing like screwing with your friend!

So it’s canon that Lucifer is like, a solid 20/10, therefore MC is ADORABLE. What I’m saying is, some of the younger demons asked them to dance.

Asmo was also being MC’s hype man, which was very nice of him. Mammon also tried to give advice on how to be cool and suave. Beel was there for moral support.

“Alright kiddo, you need to be aloof and mysterious! People love aloof and mysterious, that’s why I’m so popular.”

“Don’t listen to him, MC. He flew into a wall as a kid and it killed all his brain cells. Just be proper but not snooty, sweet but not saccharine, friendly but not annoying,”

“Ask them if they want to share some of the hors d’oeuvres.” 

“Okay, first, aloof and mysterious are the last words I would ever use to describe you, Mammon. Second, Asmo I have no clue what you’re asking me to do. Third... Beel that’s the best advice I’ve received in recent memory.”

None of that mattered anyway because MC got swarmed with dance offers.

“Well,” MC smirked and held out their hand at the demon that was bold enough to ask them to dance first. “I admire the confidence.”

The demon’s smile brightened, then dropped completely when their gaze drifted behind MC. “I uh... on second thought... I’m gonna...”

MC’s potential dance partners all quickly scattered to the snack table. The half demon growled and turned around to see their father acting like he didn’t just scare away MC’s groupies.

“Father! What was that for?!” MC huffed, Lucifer rolled his eyes and grabbed MC’s wrist and began to pull them away from the dance floor.

“You’re too young to dance.”

“That’s crazy! They looked like they were my age.” MC protested, their wings fluttering in annoyance.

“Even if they looked to be your age, MC, they’re hundreds of years older.” Lucifer said calmly.

“What about that equivalent age stuff you told me about? Like how Luke is hundreds of years old but by angel/human standards he’s technically younger than me?”

“That doesn’t matter right now.” Lucifer lightly pushed MC towards the hallway that led back to their room.

“But I want to dance with someone!” MC felt their wings involuntarily fluff up.

Lucifer turned and smiled at his dear little brat, crouching slightly to get to their level. “Not on my watch.”

MC’s face was literally this: >:0

Lucifer is out here being the dad in every comedy that involves someone bringing home their partner to meet their parents.

MC was banished to their room, they spent their time angrily reading the manga they had packed.

When Levi escaped the party slightly later MC grilled him for details of what went on after they left.

“Nothing too interesting... except... um...”

“Spit it out, Levi!”

“...lrddiavlondlucferdnced”

“I can’t understand you, stop mumbling.”

“Lord Diavolo and Lucifer danced together...”

“...”

“...”

“I MISSED THAT?!”

So yes, MC’s desire to get a picture of Lucifer sleeping stems from VENGEANCE!

How DARE their father send MC up to their room and make them miss their OTP dancing together!?

So they call up their troupe of idiots and get ready to go be menaces to society.

MC also invites along Asmo because he seemed like he could use the adventure.

And because MC couldn’t plan the prank without Asmo noticing so it was better to just implicate him as well...

“Grrr...”

MC brightened and clapped their hands. “I know that growl!”

“It’s not my stomach, I packed snacks.” MC couldn’t see this, considering the room was pitch black (it must’ve been some kind of magic because demons have excellent night vision), but Beel waved a bag of chips in the air and got to eating.

“No, I’m not talking about your stomach, Beel.” MC skipped towards the source of the growling despite Mammon and Levi’s pleas for them to stop.

Ah! There he was!

“Cerberus!” MC cooed, the three headed dog stopped growling and barked happily. “Whose a good boy? Is it you?”

Cerberus let lose a bark that would probably make anyone crap their pants, but MC giggled and kept petting him. “Yeah! You’re the good boy! You like cuddles! Yes you do! Yes you do!”

A flash of light from a camera caused MC to drop their baby talk voice and stare angrily in the direction where the light came from.

“Whoever took that picture better delete it or I’m going to feed you to the dog.”

Cerberus growled in agreement. What a good boy.

“Well, as nice as this is...” Asmo huffed. “We’ve clearly been duped because this is not Lucifer and Diavolo’s room.”

“Oh well!” MC chirped and continued to pet the three headed dog. “Look at the doggy!”

“MC, you’re crazy. Dontcha ever forget that.” Mammon whimpered as Cerberus growled at him.

So yeah, they couldn’t get out of the room, so they ended up opening up the other door and falling into the catacombs like a bunch of lemmings.

Asmo charmed Henry, and they got out of the labyrinth no problem.

Yay! No consequences! Oh no- hi Lucifer.

Lucifer gave them all the mother of all lectures. Satan showed up with the rest of the gang and brought popcorn.

Belphie wasn’t there, okay? Satan needed to be a little shit for him.

Ah yes, the pillow fight... Mammon’s crusade to be the best uncle culminated in a massive pillow fight that ended with MC, Lucifer, and Diavolo standing over everyone’s unconscious bodies.

So they uh... won the pillow fight.

MC couldn’t sleep. They legitimately couldn’t. As exhausting as the pillow fight victory had been, everyone was snoring, and MC was bleary eyed and awake at one in the morning.

They eventually sat up and looked around, Asmo was passed out in a very unflattering position, Solomon was chanting god knows what in his sleep, Levi was half hanging off Simeon’s bed, Simeon and Luke were sleeping like angels (hehehehe-), Beel was in the middle of eating his pillow in his sleep, Mammon appeared to be dreaming about winning the lottery, and Satan was... suspiciously absent.

He was there a minute ago... weird.

Deciding that this wasn’t worth it and they should just go sleep somewhere else, MC got out of bed and avoided stepping on anyone as they vacated the room.

The Demon Lord’s Castle at night could rival the House of Lamentation in terms of overall creepiness. MC had gotten used to the spirits and curses that littered their home, but they had only been to the Demon Lord’s Castle once before, so they were extra careful not to accidentally touch anything. Their stomach rumbled and they frowned.

Damn, they had the midnight munchies... they needed a snack.

MC made their way to the kitchen and on there way, noticed a peculiar room through a half open door. Taking a few steps back to peek into it, they noticed... doors. A lot of doors. And ivy covered steps. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to any of the placements, and the room was... weirdly chilly.

“You can come in if you’d like, MC.”

Barbatos’ voice nearly caused MC to hit a high note that they hadn’t been able to hit since their voice began to change. They straightened out their wrinkled pyjamas and stepped inside.

The butler himself was walking down one of the flights of stairs.

“Um...” Quickly remembering their manners, MC straightened their posture and cleared their throat. “Good evening Barbatos.”

Barbatos smiled and inclined his head in turn. “Good evening to you as well, MC.”

“How did you know it was me outside? You were up there a second ago.” MC asked.

“It’s a part of my powers. I can see possible futures, and I foresaw you passing by my room and getting curious.” Barbatos explained.

“Oh,” MC said, half nodding and continuing to look around. A the sound of a door closing out of MC’s vision made them squeak and look around for the source of the noise. “What was that?!”

“It’s nothing to be worried about.” Barbatos raised his hands in a placating gesture. “These doors in my room are gateways to different timelines and some are gateways into the past of this particular timeline. That was another version of me passing by.”

“Does this... happen often?” MC knitted their eyebrows.

Barbatos hesitated before answering. “Not really. It’s quite rare. Lord Diavolo has expressly forbidden me from using my full powers freely.”

“Ah... makes sense...”

“Now, I believe you came down for snacks?”

MC blinked in surprise. “How did you- oh... the time magic...”

“Yes, the time magic. Now, would you prefer yogurt and fruit, or apples and peanut butter?”

“Yogurt and fruit please!”

I’m sure MC’s knowledge of how Barbie’s room works will totally not come into play later. I’m sure.

Solomon and MC graced the brunch table with their cooking. I think you can guess how it would have turned out if Barbatos hadn’t intervened.

Rest In Peace to Beel’s tastebuds.

Anyway, the rest of the retreat was all fun and good.

MC may or may not have slipped up and called Diavolo ‘Dia’ in front of Lucifer. It would’ve sparked a lecture if Dia’s puppy-like excitement wasn’t so damn adorable.

Lucifer’s got a heart... somewhere... it’s probably all shrivelled up and tiny, but I’m sure it’s there.

Everyone went back home, brought closer together through... pillow fights and surviving Solomon’s cooking I guess..?

Anyway, MC got home, unpacked their stuff, watched Kakegurui with Levi and Mammon, let Asmo paint their nails, made and ate dinner with Beel, continued their piano lessons with Lucifer, and received a 100% fake smile from Satan.

It was a nice day with their new family, MC curled up in their bed and prepared to go to sleep.

“Help me!”

MC lurched upwards in their bed, whipping their head from side to side, trying to find the source of the voice. Their room was completely empty, the perks of being half demon extended to being able to see in the dark. No new smells either, they were alone in the room.

Auditory hallucinations were common before falling asleep after being sleep deprived, creepy, but not too unusual.

“MC!”

Okay- that one couldn’t be ignored. It was common knowledge that the House of Lamentation was definitely haunted in some capacity, but the ghosts never really bothered the demons living inside, MC was partly convinced that some of the ghosts didn’t even notice that the demons were there. So it couldn’t have been a ghost calling their name.

“MC! I need help!”

The voice reverberated through their head, like it was trying to hit every part of their skull to make sure it was at least felt if MC couldn’t hear it. MC massaged their scalp and got out of bed.

The House of Lamentation at night truly lived up to its haunted reputation. Cold, clammy, dark, even by demon standards. No spooky old house was going to scare MC though, they walked down the hall with their head held high.

They walked closer to walls and furniture, knowing that the floor was less likely to creak in those areas. How did they know that? Mammon had told them it worked like a charm. Well, it’d work better for him if he stopped tripping over the furniture and alerting Lucifer.

MC was much more nimble and careful, stepping slowly and lightly around the hallways until they reached the door to the attic. They reached out to clasp their hand around the doorknob, then froze. It smelled like…

Oh no.

MC leapt away from the door like it was rigged to explode if they touched it and practically dove for cover into an alcove. The all too-recent smell of Lucifer’s fancy cologne and the increasing sound of someone coming down the stairs made them clamp their hand over their mouth and crouch down.

What was their father doing up there?

He had said the attic was full of old junk and there was no reason to go up there, so why exactly did he-

The door slammed open and Lucifer stomped down the hallway back towards his room, MC presumed. They were about to let out a sigh of relief when the footsteps paused. MC felt their heart drop right into their gut when they heard the footsteps coming back in their direction.

What were they going to say to him when he found them? ‘Sorry! This isn’t where the bathrooms are!’ The last thing MC wanted was to add to their father’s ever growing list of stresses. MC was totally responsible and grown-up, their father didn’t need to worry.

MC clamped their eyes shut and tried to slow their heart rate. Demons were beings of darkness and shadow, they could blend in quite easily. They took a deep breath, cleared their head, and felt the shadows of the hallway shift and cover them like a blanket.

Lucifer’s footsteps stopped, MC heard a tired sigh, then the footsteps started up again, this time in the direction of his room.

They allowed themselves a sigh of relief before relieving themselves of their hiding space and opening the door leading to the attic staircase.

If the rest of the House of Lamentation was considered clammy, cold, and foreboding, the attic staircase was that multiplied by a factor of twelve. MC felt themselves shudder involuntarily when they stepped closer to the staircase. Every primal part of their brain was telling them to turn around and walk away, but one tiny part was holding them back. They placed their foot on the first step, waiting for any kind of resistance, nothing other than the feeling of passing through invisible cobwebs.

“MC?”

Upon hearing their name, MC craned their neck to try and get a look at what could be waiting for them at the top of the stairs.

“Are you coming, or not?”

The cascade of warning sirens that began to blare in MC’s head went ignored as they continued to scale the staircase.

When they reached the final step, they were met with a long hallway, with a single door on the right side of the wall.

“H-hello?” MC tried to instill some force into their voice, but it still ended up quavering a little.

“Down here.” Someone knocked on the wall next to the door, almost causing MC to jump.

Oh. Oh no. MC stood straight in front of the door, and when they saw who was looking back at them they nearly passed out.

“Belphegor..?”

Belphegor’s eyes flashed as he gave MC a once over. His eyes narrowed when his gaze snapped to MC’s. The analytical expression melted into a lazy grin.

“That’s me,” he said softly. “Nice to finally meet you, MC.”

[zi-i-think]

Practicing

Pairing: Jade West x fem!reader

Rating: SFW

Word Count: 1800+

Warnings: mention of drugs

Request: no

AN: I know I’m still not done with requests, but I just really wanted to get in a Jade West oneshot. I don’t think Jade is out of character all that much, but I’d love feed back.

          Things sucked. Like. They royally sucked.

         When Beck and Jade broke up for the second time, it felt like a dark, ominous was looming over the group of talented teens. No one needed to be a genius to realize that both Jade and Beck with miserable. Not just because they were no longer together, but the breakup was emotionally draining.

         And despite it all, y/n couldn’t help but feel a little bit hopeful. She and Jade had been friends since middle school when Jade pushed a boy off his seat because he was bullying Y/n. They were pretty different. Actually very different personality-wise. Y/n was what Jade described as a hippie fairy. Which contrasted Jade’s vampire personality completely. 

         But there were just enough similarities to keep them together. Their hatred for the patriarchy. Interests in a feel-good green herb. They both started practicing Wicca together. And they were killer on the mic.

         It was a fine balance. 

         And over the years, Y/n couldn’t help but fall for the girl. Snarling personality and all. 

         She still recalls when Jade and Beck started dated. How at first she just thought she was annoyed at how Jade didn’t spend as much time with her but later realized that she was indeed feeling jealous.

         She knew it was terrible to be glad they’re no longer together, but she couldn’t help it.

         The first thing she saw when she approached her locker was the dark clothed girl waiting for her; standing cooly against the wall of lockers.

         “Morning.” Y/n greeted her with a smile. Jade hummed her greeting in response, waiting for her friend to get her things from the locker. “How you doing?” Jade sent her a glare, knowing that Y/n what trying to get her to talk about the breakup.Y/n mumbled a “nevermind” and closed the locker.

         “Do you have plans later?” Jade grumbled as the two started to walk to Sicowitz’s class.

         “Uh, yeah. I’m finishing up my script for my play.”

         “The one about the girl who turns into a dragon and then the prince who’s supposed to save her kills her on accident.”

         “That’s the one,” Y/n finger-gunner. “I’m trying to figure out how to make the finally really pull at the heartstrings.”

         “Make it gruesome,”

         “I’ll make a note of it.” 

         The class was already about to start by the time they entered and most people were engaged in their own conversations. Y/n saw Jade and Beck make eye contact. The same longing look on their faces. But stubbornness kept either of them from saying anything.

         “Hey, uh do you want to come over? Help me with the play?” Y/n asked, getting Jade’s attention again.

         “Sure. It’s not like I have any plans.” Jade shrugged before taking a seat upfront.

         Y/n smiled and took the seat next to her friend. A nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach grew as she already started to expect her friend’s arrival.

         “Good day, class!” The eccentric teacher barged into the room. “Your a pack or wolves engaged in a dance party!” He announced, prompting the teans to get up from their seats and act out the prompt.

         Knock Knock Knock

         The front door of Y/n’s house sounded. With a furrowed brow and her hair still wet, the girl opened the door revealing Jade with two coffees

         “You’re early,” Y/n stated the obvious.

         “Only cause I got bored. Now you want your coffee or not?” The dark haired girl outstretched her arm to hand her the tall cup.

         Y/n smiled appreciativly, taking the cup and stepping to the side.

         “Alright. So what does your play need?” Jade asked, already getting down to business. She walked straight to the living room and plopped herself on the blanketed couch.

         “Well, uh. It's mainly the last scene. Where the dragon turns back into a maiden and the prince realizes what he's done.” Y/n described, sitting next to Jade and grabbing the laptop from the coffee table.

         “Ah, so it’s angsty.” Jade smiles and leaned closer to Y/n to get a look at the document with the script.

         “Yeah.” Y/n’s voice cracked as she tried to compose herself over her friends close proximity. “So, I was thinking that once he realizes his mistake, he holds her close. I want him to have a monologue. Describing how he'd never get the chance to talk to her, see her, you know typical human relationship things.”

         “Alright so what's the problem?” Jade asked, not seeing why Y/n needed her there. Not that she was mad, she loved being around her. And truthfully, she missed hanging out and not having Beck in the back of her mind.

         “It just feels like it's missing something. You know.” Y/n said with a tinge of frustration in her voice. “Like. There's something that isn't making the plot complete enough for him to have that monologue. He loves her, but it doesn't feel like he does enough.”

         Without warning, Jade took the laptop from her lap.

         “I’ll read it.” she grumbled. “You go dry your hair or something.”

         “Good idea.” Y/n agreed, leaving the couch and beading back to her bathroom.

         “And order a pizza!” She heard Jade shout.

         It didn’t take long for Y/n to dry her hair and put the pizza order in. And by the time she got back into the living room, Jade was finished with reading over the script. Instead, she was now holding her new pair of scissors and examining the blades.

         “Figure anything out?” Y/n asked, getting the girl’s attention.

         “Yeah.” Jade put down the scissors and turned her body to face Y/n as she came in and sat down. “Your characters don’t kiss.”

         Y/n month dropped and she bit her bottom lip awkwardly.

         “Well, I was thinking about putting one in, but I thought it would be better if there weren’t one. Think about the symbolism behind it. Without the action, it’s expressing how the two never truly experienced being together.” She explained.

         Jade hummed and nodded as if she were understanding.

         “That’s stupid.” she said. Somehow both calmly and aggressively. Y/n furrowed her brow and tilted her head. Asking without words for Jade to go on. “Y/n the script is good, the storyline is paced well, blah blah blah. But the only thing that isn't good is the way you're presenting that they are in love. You want the audience to be heartbroken for the guy, show them that he loved her.”

         “Okay, so, where do you recommend it goes?” Y/n asked, grabbing the laptop and scrolling through.

         “Obvious. Scene 4, during the confession, I think after she falls from the tree.” Jade said. Y/n quickly went there and read it over, thinking about how to go about it.

         “You don't think it's a little fast?” Y/n asked, twisting her face as unsureness creeped into her mind.

         “Course not. You've already presented their infatuation for each other, and after that scene their relationship is already escalating more quickly. If anything it makes more sense.”

         She was right. Y/n knew it. But she couldn't shake the fact that having this discussion with Jade felt unreal. Perhaps because Y/n was crushing on her, but also because while Jade was very knowledgeable in entertainment, relationships were more of a ‘on the surface’ knowledge.

         Typing quickly the placement of the kiss, Y/n let out a heavy breath.

         “And it’s in.” She announced mainly for herself.

         “Good.” Jade nodded, now smirking at her friend. “You wanna see how it flows with the scene?”

         Y/n kept scrolling down the document to the ending, avoiding looking at the vampiresque girl.

         “Uh, ” She cleared her throat to avoid cracking her voice. “What do you mean?”

         “Well do the scene, me and you. As then you can make the final choice on whether you like it or not.” Jade explained casually.

         “Yeah, okay. We can do that.”

         Despite sounding calm and nonchalant on the outside, Y/n was screaming on the inside. Surely Jade wasn't actually intending on kissing her right? They’d work up to it and then stop, right? No kiss?

         “Cool, I'll be the guy and do you have it all memorized?” Jade started, grabbing the laptop and placing it on her lap.

         “Yep, it's all in my noggin.” Y/n knocked on her head awkwardly, receiving a disapproving look from Jade.

         “I’ll start at the beginning of the confession.” The dark haired girl announced, reading the lines. Then she looked up, right into Y/n’s eyes. “Tell me, Ayleth, do you feel what I feel.”

         “Why, I'm not quite sure what you mean, my prince.” Y/n continued, swallowing her nervousness.

         “When you look into my eyes, do you as well feel that fire? The one raging inside of your heart and coursing through you. Making you think illogically, wanting nothing more than to be consumed completely by you.”

         “One shouldn't think illogically. One must think about their duties, their-”

“That wasn't the question.” Jade acted, her usual roughness and anger dropped as she said her lines. “Do you love me?”

         “I suppose it would be unwise to try to divert the conversation.”

         “Most unwise. Especially to your prince.”

         “Well. Yes. I believe I do.”

         There was silence between the two. This was where the kiss was written. In the quiet, they both seemed to be questioning whether they would actually kiss or not. They both leaned in, slowly but surely. Y/n’s heart sped up and she wondered whether Jade was feeling the same. No, of course not. It's part of the scene. She's just acting, obviously.

         The inches between them soon turned to fractions of an inch. And their lips were so close to meeting.

         Knock knock knock.

         They were interrupted by the door. “Y/n pulled away immediately.

         “Pizza. I’ll get it.” She chuckled nervously and got up.

         “They can wait.” Jade said instead. She grabbed Y/n’s wrist and pulled her back down on the couch.

         Before Y/n knew it, Jade placed a firm kiss on Y/n’s lips. Though shocked, Y/n quickly reciprocated the kiss. Jade placed her hand on Y/n’s cheek, while the other girl’s hand went to Jade’s waist. By now, Y/n’s heartbeat was going a million miles per minute and both girls forgot about the person waiting at the door.

         Until they knocked again.

         “Give us a minute!” Jade shouted angrily before turning back to her, uh friend? Y/n was giggling at her rage over small things like that. Jade noticed not only that her dark blue lipstick had smudged onto Y/n’s face, but that she also had a deep red blush that covered her face almost completely.

         “Should we practice again?” Jade asked instead of bring it up. And when Y/n nodded, she didn’t waste another second to lean in again, kissing her with more depth than the one before.

[so-writing]

Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea - Matthew Tkachuk (5)

all parts in the master list

Note: ‘Someday We’ll Know’ by New Radicals is the song for this part so I recommend listening it while you read, and also regularly because it is a beautiful song - also editing is trash once again because I just write and post like a maniac would

++

The pounding headache you’d woken up with hours ago had now reduced itself to a dull ache behind your eyebrows. It was enough to distract you from the arm wrapped around your waist but not enough to ignore the hard member pressed against the small of your back. 

You knew who was laying behind you and while you knew it was a perfectly natural thing, you felt shock due to the fact the Matthew Tkachuk was sporting wood while cuddled up with your body. 

His breathing was irregular and his heart was beating fast. You could tell because his face was crushed into your neck and his chest was pressed against your back. 

He was awake. 

You had to unwrap yourself from his body without giving him any indication that you knew about his ‘situation.’

*

“Fuck, I really need to pee!” 

She hurried out of the bed and booked it to the bathroom at such a breakneck speed that Matthew was sure he’d gotten away with it. 

He rolled onto his stomach and willed his boner away. This was not the time or place for anything sexual.

Matthew heard the sound of the shower turn on, sighing in relief that she was beginning her day and was probably completely unaware of what had just taken place. 

He sighed heavily and, remembering that there was no game and an evening practice, went back to sleep.

*

“Nope,” you muttered to yourself as the hot water ran down your chest, “this is not a thing I should be feeling. Absolutely fucking not.”

You couldn’t get the feeling of Matthew’s body pressed against yours out of your head and it was annoying because you knew better. 

The civility between the two of you was just blossoming and the last thing you needed was to think about his naked body while the two of you tiptoed around each other masquerading as friends for everyone else’s sake. 

No, it wasn’t a thing. You wouldn’t let it be. You weren’t attracted to him, there was no way you could be. Up until a day or two ago, he wasn’t even nice to you. You weren’t into assholes, and there was no doubt in your mind that Matthew was an asshole. 

While you were on it, what the fuck was with the shit he’d said last night? He wanted to cuddle with you, when twenty-four hours prior he had you sleeping alone on the floor?

Sure, he’d been drunk but still, it didn’t make any fucking sense. As far as you knew, you were not Matthew’s type and didn’t think even drunk him would have any interest in touching you. 

You chalked it up to just another reason you could say he was an asshole decided to read anything into it. 

The once hot water was now barely room temperature by the time you’d worked through your thoughts and you almost finished your shower until another thing, not from the night before, came to mind.

‘You ought to get dressed though, you’ve got goosebumps like all over your body.’

‘All over your body.’

Why was he looking so closely in the first place? 

*

Matthew knocked on the bathroom door to make sure he was completely alone, though hours had gone by and there was no way she was still in the shower.

The lack of response from the other side of the door made had him smiling as he entered to brush his teeth and take his own shower. 

He noted the few products that weren’t his sitting on the shower shelf. Picking up one of the bottles and rolling it in his hand he wondered out loud, “Lord of Misrule? What the fuck is Lush?”

Matthew was a 3-in-1 type of guy. Fancy bath products didn’t do it for him, what was the point? That didn’t stop him from using it anyway. 

Thinking about the previous night, the earliest thing he could clearly recall was taking his first round of shots. Everything else was a mess of fragmented memories but he knew that he wouldn’t have initiated such closeness between the two of them. He barely liked her, hell, he barely even knew her (not like that had stopped him before) but he wouldn’t mess around with somebody on staff, even he had his limits.

He didn’t think she liked him either but he knew he didn’t pull her into him, so that meant she was the one that started it. 

“Maybe she’s been cold to me because she’s into me and she can’t do anything about it,” he mused and squirted more shower gel into his hand, “that’s got to be it.”

*

You went about your day as normally as you could, opting not to watch practice because you weren’t ready to see Matthew after this morning’s debacle. 

It wasn’t until about 10 in the evening that you decided it was time to leave the arena and head back to the hotel. You’d been working slow, forcing the time to pass but you were tired and knew you’d have to face him eventually. 

Only tonight and tomorrow were left until the Flames would be heading back home and you could resume sleeping alone in the comfort of your own home. 

You hoped Matthew would be sleeping when you got back, but much to your disappointment, he was sitting up in bed with his face in his phone and AirPods in his ears. 

“Where have you been? It’s really late.”

“Had work to do,” you mumbled as you grabbed your pajamas and headed into the bathroom to change. 

You changed, brushed your teeth and washed your face at a glacial pace. Twenty-five minutes had to have passed when you exited the bathroom and sat down on your side of the bed. 

“There’s something I want to talk to you about and I think it might be a kind of touchy subject, but we should address it.”

Oh god, what was he talking about?

“Uh, ok, what’s up?”

“Look, I know it’s probably hard for you to be around me, feeling the way you do and all, but it doesn’t have to be weird.”

Feeling the way you feel? What the fuck did that mean?

“What are you talking about?”

“I figured out why last night happened and why you’ve been so cold to me all this time. You like me.”

The fuck?!

The little smirk resting on his lips was begging to be slapped off. You had never given him any indication that you were interested in him at all. Until this morning, you thought nothing positive about Matthew Tkachuk and those few positive thoughts were strictly physical. Yeah, he was definitely an asshole.

“I, the opposite of like you, Matthew. When have I ever given you the green light that I might be interested? We don’t even fucking look at each other most of the time. This roadie is the most we’ve ever even talked to each other. What makes you think I would want someone like you?”

“You clearly cuddled with me all night, that’s what makes me think you would ‘want someone like me!’ I would never be the one to pull the trigger when it came to getting close to someone like you.” 

“You don’t remember last night, do you?”

“Most of it is a blur, yes, but that-“

“You came in hammered drunk and told me you wanted to hold me and then we went to sleep,” you cut him off. “Don’t think I didn’t feel your fucking dick shoved into my back this morning. You started this, Matthew. I don’t feel any ounce of attraction, physically or emotionally, to you at all.” 

It wasn’t entirely the truth but you were pissed. How fucking arrogant was he that he thought you had feelings for him when he was the one making the first move by coming back for a drunk cuddle?

His face was beat red, “that can’t be true, I wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, you did and I stupidly let you for whatever fucking reason. I should’ve forced you to go to sleep and spent another night on the floor.” 

He didn’t respond, instead focusing all his attention on the corner of the blanket he was kneading between his fingers.

“This is hopeless, Matthew. You and I are just two people who will never get along. Our personalities don’t mesh at all and that’s fine. We need to go to sleep though, two games two days in a row is going to be a bitch.” 

Flicking off the light, neither of you bothered to say goodnight as you both stayed on your respective edges of the bed, putting as much space between you as possible. 

---

Your respective alarms went off within fifteen minutes of each other, and like robots, you both got prepared for the day ahead without a word to one another. You both left for team breakfast at the same time, you heading in the direction of the staff and Matthew going off to join the players.

“So how’s it going with Tkachuk?”

“I mean, it could obviously be better. He’s making it pretty fucking hard for me to continue liking this job.” 

“I have tea,” one of the newer assistants spoke up, “if you’re interested.”

“About me?” 

“Yep, about you and concerning Tkachuk. Only if you’re interested though,” I smile played at her lips and you could tell she was dying to spill whatever secrets she was keeping.

“Hit me with it.”

“I was asked to go out with the group of guys the other night to make sure no one got in too much trouble, so I was there for everything that happened and while I know that he was very drunk when he shouted it across the bar,” she leaned in and the rest of you mimicked her action, “he doesn’t hate you at all. He’s actually pretty fucking interested in getting to know you in a much more intimate setting.”

“Bullshit.”

“He said it, I swear!”

“I believe he said it, but he was drunk and when he came back to the hotel room and insisted on cuddling until we fell asleep, he was drunk then too.”

“Wait, what?!” 

Several people started talking at once, asking you questions and making assumptions. 

“Nothing happened,” you raised your voice a little to silence them, “honestly. I’d never, especially not with him. I had also been drinking wine too so my guard was down but it was stupid and he acted even more idiotic about it the next morning.” 

You recounted what you could remember of the other night and yesterday morning when he claimed you were the one to make the first move because you ‘liked’ him. It was probably something that should’ve stayed private, but if Matthew was going to say what he did at the bar, drunk or not, and blame everything on you, you figured you’d share your side of the story.

*

“One more night with your best friend and then you’re home free, Chuky.”

“I absolutely cannot wait, and the next time there’s an issue with the rooms and she ends up as my bedmate, one of you will be fucking trading with me.”

“I don’t know, man,” Gio clapped him on the shoulder, “I love a good, slow burning love story and this one has been incredibly entertaining.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” 

“You’re kind of into her, I can tell.”

“I am not into her. Not even a tiny fucking bit, man. Don’t spread that shit around.”

“Why? You don’t want her to find out?”

“There’s nothing to find out. I’m not into her.”

“Ok, man, don’t get so defensive. You’re not into her.”

“Yeah, you definitely can’t stand her,” Noah Hanifin piped up, “that’s why you told the whole bar you’d fuck her into the shitty hotel mattress if she’d give you the chance!”

“Don’t fucking lie man, I didn’t say that.” 

“You did, but I’ll let you pretend like it was a drunken moment and not repressed pining.”

“Shut up, all of you, if you want me to get my shit together on the ice, you should stop bringing her up.”

It was petty and every one of them knew it but they didn’t want to frazzle Matt even more than he already was, so the subject was quickly dropped. 

*

The Flames won in a 4-0 shutout.

Game Two was a complete success and instead of the players going out on their own, a bar was rented out and everyone was in attendance. 

Ignoring Matthew was pretty easy at first. He scored one of the goals so plenty of the other guys were on him but as the night went on and the booze continued to flow, he found you. 

“Hey,” he slurred slightly, “sorry about this morning and last night. I was wrong to assume, you know what they say when you assume.”

You were pleasantly tipsy and not entirely bothered by his presence at the current moment, so you humored him.

“No, what do they say?” 

“When you assume, you make an ass out of you and me.”

“You mean when you assume, because I made no assumptions but you certainly did.” 

“Yeah, I did. I’m sorry.”

There was something about the way he was looking at you at that moment, coupled with the song playing over the speakers at the bar that had you feeling some sort of way. 

‘Someday we’ll know if love can move mountain. 

Someday we’ll know  why the sky is blue. 

Someday we’ll know  why I wasn’t meant for you.’

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t do this tomorrow,” you placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned up on your toes to press your lips against his. 

[pennyserenade]

tags: nameless oc x javier peña, nameless oc x javier pena, angst  rating: e ( explicit ) warnings: smut, language. word count: 3k+ summary: marriage requires sacrifice; theirs takes a little more than most notes: i definitely did steal the title of this chapter from the original scenes from a marriage and you know what? i’d do it again. anyways, thanks for reading and i hope you enjoy this installment! if you want to be tagged in this series, just shoot me a message or fill out my taglist form that’s available on my masterlist (pinned post). original gif by: @javierpcna​

the art of sweeping things under the rug

scene two, scenes from a marriage 

Wedding bands can vary in weight depending on the sort of week you’re having, she finds. Conveniently light, sometimes--nearly invisible, as if intertwined with oneself--and then, impossibly dense at others. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, she tells herself, but she’s on no throne, and there is no crown. It’s just her and Javi, and the elopement that tied them together. 

The ‘70s had faded silently into the ‘80, and it’s easy to feel in love when the future looks promising. Well--maybe promising is too generous of a word for what they had felt then; perhaps uncertain is better. It wasn’t the sort of uncertain that fills one with dread either, the kind that leaves them in the dark with no flashlight. No, it was the uncertainty that felt good; the sort that made them think whatever was offered in the decade they’d not yet painted with plans was going to be great. It was promises of catching Pablo, promises of a promotion, promises of a proper marriage in the country they’d come to love in their own separate and shared ways. It was realists sharing one optimistic view in a world that seemed so void of them, and now, as she sits at the dinner table in her apartment, looking at the thin band on her finger, she wonders if they’d rushed into it

Her mother told her a mal tiempo, buena cara. In bad times, keep a good face. Just grin and bare it, wait for the uneasiness of the life they were living now to trickle into the marriage she anticipated, but she isn’t sure what sort of marriage she was anticipating. She had understood that there were going to be hardships, but she had welcomed them then because she thought they were going to be hardships they would endure together. They weren’t doing a very good job at the together. 

It isn’t that she doesn’t love him. She has an unwavering love for him, but the absence of his being in her life has begun to create a festering wound in her heart. She’s torn between asking him to never leave again—to quit it all and stay wrapped in bed with her, pretending the horrors outside of their utopia didn’t exist—and saying nothing at all. Grinning and bearing. 

He’s a good man. A great man, actually. He’s gentle, funny. A little too stressed for his own good most of the time, and a bit grumpy until he settles somewhere, but he’s exactly what she needs, and everything that could break her if he so wanted it, too. And she knows he never would want that, but she isn’t sure he knows he can either, because if he did, then he was tiptoeing dangerously close to that line. 

Sighing, she shakes her head, dismissing it all. 

The afternoon has begun to fade into the evening, and the cool summer wind blows a gentle breeze into her home. Javier said he wouldn’t be working late at the Embassy tonight, and she had told him she’d cook dinner, but the eagerness that had overtaken her then had been worn by the sight of his wedding band on her dresser. It was the thing that made hers seem so heavy. The thing that made her want to cry, really, and it was so silly, but she could not help the angry ball of frustration and confusion that formed at the sigh of it, or the way it had turned into the lump in her throat. 

She yearns for the days when it was just fucking—the way they hadn’t exchanged anything personal so nothing could be personal. She misses the way he would call her, flustered, at all hours of the night and the way she’d always open her door for him, and they’d kiss passionately and fuck roughly and explore each other over and over. 

But really, she doesn’t want that, either. She doesn’t know what she wants. 

She hears the jangle of keys, hears the latch open, but she doesn’t turn to meet him. Instead, she’s lit a cigarette, and she’s staring out the window, looking at how the sun shadows the town. She puffs away at the cigarette and he says nothing when he enters. He just throws his keys on the counter and then moves quietly over to her, hands falling to her tense shoulders. She hates the way she leans into him too; how effortlessly the anger ebbs.

She looks up at him, and he smiles gently. He looks worn, as though he’s fighting something that she won’t learn until the early hours of the morning, when he’s spent from spent from sex and the general excitement that paints all of his days. Javi is interesting in that way—not emotionally stunted, but hesitant. 

“You didn’t make dinner?” he asks while pushing her hair away from her neck, pressing his lips there quickly. He nuzzles against her for a beat, taking in her scent, feeling the warmth of her against him in gratitude. He is spent, and he’s wanted nothing more than to come here. Doesn’t even really care that she’s not made him dinner, just said it to hear her. 

“I didn’t,” she responds, more softly than she likes. Her heart is tender for him, kind naturally because his being warrants it. She wants to yell, but she can’t because she loves him so goddamn much. 

“S’okay,” he mumbles. Javi moves away from her, slipping off his jacket and sitting it on the chair. “We can order something later if you want.”

She nods, putting out the cigarette. “When do you have to go back in?”

“Six tomorrow morning. What about you?”

“I took tomorrow off.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “¿Por qué?” 

“Because,” she shrugs. “Only so much depressing material you can write until it starts to wear you down.”

“You know I said—“

She cuts him off. “I don’t want to live off your paycheck. I know what you said but I’m happy doing what I do. Just—“ she pauses, struggling to think. “—not all of us can give our lives over to the cause all the time.”

She meant that, meant that entirely, and knows he feels it by the way his features settle into a look of pure nothingness. Stoned face, giving nothing. She’s sorry for it, but can’t say it. He doesn’t ask for her to. 

“Cruelty doesn’t look so good on you, baby,” he tries to tease, but it comes out flat and serious. She bites at her lip, and turns her head to the window, back to the city, trying not to cry. 

“Are you angry with me?” 

He’s a good detective, isn’t he?

“Javi, I don’t want to fight.” 

“You are angry with me.”

She sighs heavily. “No, I’m not.”

“You are, and I wish you’d just say why.”

“It doesn’t even matter, Javi,” she dismisses it with a simple shrug of her shoulders. “You’ve been at work all day and—“

“Is it because I work so much?” he interrupts. 

“Goddamnit, Javier, I’m not fucking angry with you!” she shouts. Shouts like she is angry with him. Silence ensues and she wants to crawl in a hole and disappear completely. 

“You left your wedding ring,” she admits quietly, half out of remorse, half because she can’t stand the way he’s looked down at the table and not looked back up. Or how he sits like he’s torn between fleeing and staying. “But it really doesn’t matter, and I don’t know why it bothers me so much because I know you...you don’t mean to hurt me.”

“No,” he shakes his head. He still does not look at her, focusing on a line in the table. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Javi, I said it didn’t matter.”

“But it does.” He finally looks up. “It matters if it makes you angry with me. I left it because I forgot, that’s all.”

“I said it doesn’t matter.”

“You never fucking fight me.”

“There’s no reason for it,” she replies. 

“There is reason for it.” 

“Javi, please. I don’t get you for very long and this is not how I want to spend it.”

“Stop doing that.” 

“What?” Confusion paints her features. 

“Running from it. Fight with me.”

“Why do you want to fight so fucking bad? When you’d turn into such a fucking masochist.”

She feels that lump in her throat again, feels the way it wants to give way and lets it all go the way he’s requesting. Fills the bitterness creep into her system the way she hates. 

“I’m not a masochist,” he replies, “You’ve obviously got shit to say, so say it.”

“Fuck you, Javi,” she chokes, blinking back tears now. She definitely did not want this. 

She gets up to move, but he grasps onto her wrist. 

“Don’t run away,” he repeats. He’s angry too. 

“Let me go,” she spits out spitefully. He has such a loose hold on her that she doesn’t even need his permission to escape from it, but it’s the concept more than anything. He does let go, but she doesn’t move. 

“I didn’t want to fight with you.” 

Her cheeks begin to heat with anger, and it’s the worst sort of anger, the kind that makes her sob because she can’t contain it. It’s an anger that feels unfair, and she can never beat it; the tears begin to fall rapidly. 

Sympathy tugs at his heart; his steely resolution falls as quickly as it has come up. “I know,” he acknowledges. “We’ve got to fight, sometimes, though.”

“I know, but I don’t want to. I only see you two days a week and I don’t want to spend one of them yelling at you,” she confesses. “All I want you, Javi. Is that so much to ask?”

It’s his turn for shame to fill him. He knows why that can’t be—knows it’s because there’s things she can’t know and having her in a building full of DEA agents comprises the both of them. She’s in danger just wearing that wedding band on her finger; God forbid any of those fucking narcs ever found out they were married. He shouldn’t have done it, married her, but he could not help it; a sort of selfishness that was not uncharacteristic had pushed the boundaries within him, and he decided the good outweighed the bad. But, maybe it didn’t. 

He stands and envelops her frame in a hug. She sighs into his chest and wraps her arms tightly around him. She only wants to make him happy and to be happy with him. Why did it seem so hard? When this all began, it felt so easy, so nice and now it felt hard. 

Javier kisses her softly, just a peck and she feels lighter because of it. As he goes to pull away, she pulls him closer again, pressing their lips together. He responds, a hand resting on her hip and the other on the small of her back, holding her against him. She initiates a deeper kiss, swiping her tongue against his lower lip. They stand like this for a few minutes, kissing and basking in the presence of each other the way they’d both desired. 

It is Javi who pulls back from their kiss, needing air and wanting to take it further—just not here. In the beginning of their relationship, when it was just fucking, sex felt something they had to do everywhere; on the couch, on the table, on the counter, in the shower, on the ground, even in front of the window. And they still did that, still let spontaneity sway them, but they’d settled into more comfortable routines too. He liked fucking her in their bed, the one thing they always agreed was undeniably both of theirs wherever it resided. It was their bed so as long as they both fell there to sleep. 

He doesn’t even have to speak, just nods his head in the general direction, before she’s tugging him along. 

She sits down on the bed and peers up at him, eyes still red from the tears. He feels awful about it, but doesn’t have it in him to say it. Can’t, for some reason. It’s lost between his brain and his tongue, but it finds its way out through the gentle way he presses her onto her back and lets his lips kiss her everywhere. He kisses her face, her lips, then her neck, and then he goes further, pushing her shirt up and pressing his plush lips against the newly exposed flesh. Then he then he’s undoing her pants, kissing the spot where her panties usually begin. He offers her a mischievous grin, and she smiles back at him. 

“You really didn’t want to fight, did you?” 

She shakes her head. “No, you fuck, I didn’t,” she laughs. 

He continues his trail down her body, and she lifts her hips so he can remove her pants. Javier presses his lips on her hips, on the flesh directly above the pubic bone. Then, he presses them on the inside of her thighs, teasingly slow when he gets closer to her core, and she whines out of protest when he spots. Her eyes flicker down to see why, and when her eyes met his, he presses his tongue against her clit. A moan escapes her and she grasps onto the bedspread. Javi is encouraged by this, swiping his tongue against her folds, dipping his tongue into her, tasting her—really, truly admiring every part of her—before pressing his tongue back onto her clit. He begins to suck gently, and she writhes without control beneath him. A trained expert at this now, he anchors her down by wrapping an arm around each thigh, holding them in place. 

“Javi—“ she manages to say, just as the tension begins to build in her stomach. “Oh Javi, baby, faster.” 

He obliges and she is quick to find her release in a matter of seconds. Javi remains in between her thighs, licking up her arousal. He’s gotten good at this, knows the way she likes it, knows how to do it even when she can’t tell him.

She carts a hand through his hair, tugging gently, and he removes his lips from her finally. Despite her worn state, she’s quick to rise and meet him, uncaring about her arousal on his face as she presses their lips together once more. He kisses her back with more need than he previously had, his jeans feel tighter and more constricting than usual. 

“I want to ride you,” she whispers against his lips, and he nods eagerly. Her fingers work at his belt, and then the button of his jeans, hardly making it past the zipper before she slides her hand into his pants and palms his already hard member. He winces against her lips and she can’t help but grin; this is her Javi. This is the marriage she wants. 

“Te amo,” she says, beginning to tug at his jeans. He assists her, pushing them down all the way. 

“Take off your shirt,” he demands, tugging at the fabric. She obeys him, throwing the shirt in the same place his pants fell, before he tugs her closer to him. A gasp falls from her lips as she mounts him, the warmth of his length agonizing so close to her heat. She reaches between them, lining his cock up to her entrance. Eyes connect as she fills herself with him, and his mouth falls open, desperate to moan but too choked by the feeling of her around him. She moves slowly, not wanting to release the warmth of him yet in favor of forming a steady pace to ride him. Javi, however, is growing increasingly aroused beneath her, and can’t help the way he guides her on his cock. “Please,” he begs, brown eyes dark with desire. She nods, and they move together, her hips following his hands instructions. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out, watching the way he slides in and out of her. “I’m not going to last much longer, baby.”

Distracted by her own desire, she merely nods his confession, grinding herself on him until she fills the beginnings of another  orgasm, the sweet release inches away. He doesn’t lift her from himself now, wanting to savor this feeling for a few moments longer. “Te amo,” he finally responds back, a deep groan releasing at the way she squeezes around him. She grinds against him, and he lets her, allowing his finger to undo the bra they’d both been too eager to take off as she does. It falls slowly down her chest, and as soon as it exposes her nipple, he’s quick to wrap his mouth around it. This earns a throaty moan from her, and she swears her orgasm isn’t ever going to end. 

He pulls the fabric down her arms completely before turning them over, never leaving her once. He is desperate now, denied his orgasm too long, and the heat is pooling viciously in his stomach. He thrusts roughly into her, a whine emitting from her lips when he does, but she lifts her hips to meet him the second time he does it. 

“Faster, baby,” she encourages, and he presses his fingers into her hips so hard that he’s certain the skin will bruise as he thrusts into her for the last time. 

He slides out of her, and with a few more rough tugs on his cock, he’s releasing on her stomach. He wants to lay beside her, flat and lifeless as his lugs play catch up (it’s the fucking cigarettes, but he can’t stop them), but he resists the urge. He leans towards the bed stand and grabs a handful of tissues, wiping himself and her clean of his cum. She lays still, watching him intently, a soft, appreciative smile embedding in her features. 

“I miss you a lot, you know,” she says. He throws the tissues away in the bin across the room, and she takes in his frame; admires the way his back looks, the broadness of his shoulders, even his ass. He’s a good looking man, on top of everything, and she’s happy to be his wife. She just wishes it was easier. 

“I do know. I miss you too.”

He slides back into bed, uncaring of his nakedness, and she uncaring of hers. He pulls her bare body against him, and she wraps a leg around her hip. She traces his lips with her finger and he takes her hand, kissing the palm of it. 

He loves her, loves her so goddamn much that the guilt of the wedding ring on her dresser eats away at him. It bites and bites because the way he’s so casually lied about why he left it, acted as if it wasn’t deliberate. Doesn’t want to tell he’s afraid they’ll find out if he doesn’t, doesn’t want to have to worry about if she’s okay anymore than he does already. He calls her every night, checks in at the same time so he knows nothing is wrong, and she knows he does this, but there’s a thousand things she doesn’t see. A thousand things he doesn’t want her to see, either, like the way he left the wedding band because he’s afraid or the way he drives past her house every night before he goes to his, just to ensure it’s still there, even though he knows it is. Doesn’t want her to see the anxiety that fills him every time he hears about a bombing or the way he can’t sleep when he goes away. He wants their marriage to be perfectly normal, wants it all to be perfectly normal. Colombia deserves to be a country where marriages don’t feel this hard, and that’s all he wants to give her, but he can’t. 

As she lays against him, she can feel the tension in his body, knowing by the way he holds her a little too firmly that he’s thinking about something. She wants to ask about what, but she doesn’t want to spoil the moment. 

They’ve both become experts at sweeping things under the rug—at sacrificing—and neither of them knows whether it’s good or not, but they’ll continue to do it. Lie causally in order to protect, not address the pain and disorder, just for moments like this, moments that feel entirely like their own. Moments that make them feel married and dedicated to one another. 

This is scene two from a marriage.

tagged: @filthybookworm​ 

[theonewiththefanfics]

Because Hearts Get Broken (Part 1/3)

Synopsis: When your whole life you’ve been taught to push your feelings away, it’s hard to open up, even to the people you trust most. And sometimes what you give isn’t enough.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: sad. just angsty and sad. swearing; emotionally closed reader

Word count: 2904

Y/N had never been the kind of person who talks about her feelings. It didn’t matter if it was friends or family; her mindset was – they’re my problems, so you don’t have to worry your head about it.

        In relationships, it wasn’t any better, in fact, it was kinda worse. It was extremely difficult for the girl to open up to her partner, which in turn she’d let so many possible relationships pass her by. Not to mention, when she was in one, they slowly deteriorated because of her inability to share with them. Which is why it didn’t come as much of a surprise when it happened between her and Harry. 

        Somehow unconsciously Y/N had been almost preparing herself, preparing her heart for it to break. When he walked inside his place, she’d been there to prepare them a meal in. They’d both had a stressful couple of weeks with Harry starting off on a new album endeavour, while Y/N’s boss was practically threatening to rip her head off, as she scrambled to finish everything, even though the deadlines were months away.

        It just all kind of came crashing down on her when her boss suddenly called her up, telling her to rush back to the office, and when Y/N asked if it could wait until the morning, the ultimatum came that if she wanted her job, she’d do it then and there. 

        “Hey.” She hadn’t heard Harry come in, only noticed it when his arm wrapped around her shaking shoulders. “Hey, shh, come ‘ere.”

        Slowly, he laid the two of them down, letting her head be tucked beneath his chin, as his palm rubbed soothing circles on her back. “ ‘S gonna be okay, dove. ‘S gonna be alright. Come on, now.”

        They laid like that for about five minutes, until Y/N pushed her face away from Harry’s chest and laid her cheek there, taking in a few short, shaky breaths, and steadying herself by placing her palm on his chest and feeling the steady thuds of his heart. 

        “Wanna talk about it?” he muttered in her Y/H/C locks, placing a soft kiss to the crown of her head, but she sighed, shaking her head no.

        “ ‘S fine. Overreacted.”

        “You were sitting on the couch, crying and hyperventilating, dove. Obviously, something’s wrong.”

        “Harry,” Y/N let out a long breath. “Can you please just let it go? It’s nothing major. If it was, I’d tell you.”

        “Would you though?” The whisper went almost unnoticed, but Y/N did hear it, and it made her eyebrows furrow and push herself up from where they’d been nestled together.

        “What’s that supposed to mean?”

        “I mean.” Harry bit the inside of the cheek. “When is the last time you ever told me what’s bothering you? Like really, truly made you upset?”

        “What are you implying?” Y/N’s voice had gone steely, almost emotionless, as her brain pretty much screamed ‘it’s happening’.

        “How can I help you when you don’t let me in?” His gaze was pleading, as his hands grasped onto her cheeks.

        “You’re not supposed to.”

        “Pardon?”

        Y/N sighed and stood up from the couch, letting his touch fall away. “You’re not supposed to. They’re my problems to deal with, not yours, so you’re not supposed to help me. And there’s nothing to help me with.”

        “Do you not trust me?”

        “Of course, I trust you,” she scoffed as if it was the most ridiculous question in the world. “What does that have to do with anything?”

        “How are we supposed to be in a relationship, if you don’t trust me?”

        “I dunno,” Y/N whispered hugging herself. Sometimes she hated how her brain worked, but it was inevitable, right? It always came to this, so why not be the bad guy in the situation. “Maybe we’re not supposed to then.”

Harry was more than stunned at her reply. Not once during their relationship, he'd thought that her immediate reaction to a problem would be to immediately dismiss their love. "You - you don't mean that."

"Well," Y/N sniffled wiping at her cheeks where new tears were trailing down, "maybe I do. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. I mean they do say the first year is spent with rose-coloured glasses on, right? 'S time to take 'em off."

        “So that’s it? You’re giving up just like that?”

        “What do you want me to do?” Y/N exasperated throwing her hands up. “It’s the way I am, and I can’t change that. And if you can’t accept it, then yeah, maybe I am giving up just like that.”

        Harry shook his head in disbelief. “I –,” he stammered, “I can’t believe this.”

        “What do you want from me, Harry?”

        “To fight!” He was practically yelling at this point, hoping to see some kind of emotion on Y/N’s face. “To let me in! To – to – fuck! To start trusting me!”

        “I do trust you!”

        “But not enough to trust me with your heart.”

        A deafening silence fell over both of them because without needing a confirmation, Harry knew he’d struck gold. God, how he wished he hadn’t, but the numb expression Y/N's face morphed into told him enough.

        “I’m giving you what I can.” Y/N’s voice was quiet, resolute. “And if that’s not something you can accept, then this is it.”

        Now Harry was the silent one. But sometimes you don’t need words to say everything you mean. 

        “Okay then.” She nodded, went to the mantlepiece and took her clutch. “I’ll see ya around, I guess.”

        And with that Y/N walked out of Harry’s apartment without a glance back. 

***

        Two and a half months later and he still couldn’t understand how everything had gone so wrong. He was at the New Year party, and Y/N was there too, courtesy of Sarah, who was their mutual friend and hosted it each year. This one was a lot more intimate, seeing as the pandemic, though contained, was still raging on, so only the closest and most important people in her life had been invited. Sarah'd been actually the one who introduced the two. Well, more so given them a shove in the right direction. A literal one at that.

        The night had been absolute chaos and became an even bigger one when Y/N entered his life, Harry recalled. Drinks were flowing, bodies were moving in an erratic rhythm, most of them completely unaware of how the music boomed while voices shouted the incorrect lyrics and glasses clinked as everyone celebrated the upcoming year, buzzing with excitement as they waited for the countdown. That’s when Sarah, pulling a woman by her arm stormed towards Harry and pushed her into his chest.

        “Do not let her leave your sight!” she’d hollered over the music, as Harry blinked at his drummer. “And you!” Sarah pointed at the woman, who giggled, hiding behind her champagne glass and slinking further down Harry’s frame, so much so, he had to grab onto her armpits otherwise she would fall. “Behave for at least five minutes! I need to check up on Mitch before he decides vodka would be a good addition and completely destroys the room.”

        With that Sarah was gone, brown hair swishing in a high ponytail, leaving Harry confused and concerned as this stranger snickered behind Sarah’s back, showing her tongue like a child would.

        “Umm,” he started not really knowing what to do. “You alright there?”

        “ ‘M Y/N.” She leaned up with as much grace as a drugged-up cat, spun around to face him and extended her hand to him, and he took it, giving it a firm shake. “And I might be a lil’ bit drunk.”

        A chuckle escaped his lips. “You don’t say?”

        “I do.” Y/N nodded confidently about her statement as she swayed on her feet. Harry had to grab her by the shoulder for the woman to remain somewhat upright. “And when I’m drunk, I thrive on chaos.”

        “Is that why Sarah shoved you to me so I can babysit you?”

        “See, she just doesn’t appreciate me and my talents. She thinks that I’m ‘unreliable’.” Y/N put the word in quotation marks, and in doing so, half her champagne spilt out of the flute. “And she thinks I need ‘supervision’.” There went the other half. “Honestly, it’s Sarah that needs to be looked after. It’s not me that set the curtains on fire.”

        But the look on her face told Harry something different, and a smile bloomed on his face. “You set the curtains on fire?”

        “I just told you, I didn’t.”

        “Yes, well, your face is telling me a different story.”

        Instantly Y/N facepalmed. “Stupid face. Can’t keep in check. Listen, the curtains were just…” She waved her hand around. “In the way of the flame. ‘S not my fault they’re made from such flammable material. Should’ve gotten more fire-resistant curtains, if you ask me.”

        “Note taken – don’t let you near anything that can be set on fire or is fire.”

        Y/N scoffed and gave Harry a side-eye. “As if you can tell me what to do. I shouldn’t even be talking to you.”

        “And why's that?”

        “Stranger danger.” Y/N wagged her free index finger in Harry’s face accentuating each syllable.

        “Well then, let’s not be strangers.” He extended his hand just as Y/N had and waited until she took it. “ ‘M name’s Harry.”

        “Good to meet you, Harry. Now, Sarah said nothing about not letting me dance, so come on! I love this song!” she exclaimed, making Harry throw his head back in laughter as she dragged him to the middle of the room, bodies grinding against them, but it didn’t really matter. Not when Y/N made Harry feel as if it was just the two of them in the world.

        “Do you now?”

        “Yes! Especially when he does the ‘da – dananana da – dananana’ part.” Her eyes went wide with excitement and pride. “Sarah’s in this song as well! She's the drummer!”

His eyebrow quirked up in amusement. Y/N clearly had no idea who she was talking to, and he was kind of loving her for it. Most of the time, as flattering as it was, it could become quite taxing when people recognised you with every step of the way. He wasn’t really allowed to have his smile leave his face, nor was he allowed to stay too lost in his thoughts, needing to be on constant alert if someone asked something.

But Y/N seemed to not care, and something in Harry told him – she wouldn’t care about it if she knew the truth.

        “Wanna hear a secret?”

        Y/N gasped, eyes twinkling in the disco ball light. “Of course! I love secrets.”

        “I’m Harry!”

        “I know you’re Harry. You said it already.”

        Her confused face made his smile widen even more. “No, I mean I’m Harry. Harry Styles. This is my song.”

        And then it dawned on her inebriated brain. “Ooh. You’re Harry Styles!”

        “Yeah.” 

        “Good for you then!” And she put up her hand in a high-five, and he couldn’t leave her just hanging like that, belly-shaking laughter erupting from him before he weaved their fingers together and spun her around.

        That night had been one of the best New Year’s he’d ever had. Throughout the hour before the clock struck 12, she’d sobered up enough that when Harry asked if he could kiss her, she was coherent and could say yes. It’d been the best kiss of their lives by that point.

        But now, seeing Y/N walk around Sarah’s apartment a smile on her face that he recognised to be fake, and laughter ringing in his ears that he knew wasn’t true, made him look back at that night and wonder if she’d been truly happy then.

        She definitely seemed to have been, fuck, Harry hoped she was happy for at least some of it; that when Y/N said she was alright, she’d truly meant it, otherwise, he had no idea what he’d do with himself, but in all honesty, despite the fallout between the two, what he wished was for her to come back. To give him the slightest glimpse into what worried her. That would be enough. 

        In the beginning, Harry supposed, it was his own fault. He’d thought Y/N was just strong, she was so level-headed that whenever something was wrong, it was tackled immediately and righted that exact second, but in truth, it was just hiding, putting on a performance and living through a smile that was a complete lie. 

        He saw Sarah lean into Y/N and whisper something in her ear before her head snapped in Harry’s direction, Y/E/C eyes meeting his. He then watched her let out a breath, give Sarah a small smile and look at him once more before approaching, Harry’s own back straightening out as she opened the balcony door and entered his space. 

        She was a vision, a black and gold glitter romper covering her body, cinched at the waist with a solid gold-colour metal band, while the sleeves fluttered off in a ‘Morticia Addams’ style, as Y/N liked to call it, with her hair out of the way of her face in a simple knot at the base of her neck. Easy to make and easy to take out.

        “Bobby pins are the creations of the Devil,” she’d muttered one night after they’d gone to some Hollywood event. Harry couldn't even remember what it'd been for, most of his focus on making sure his date was alright.

One by one she'd untwisted and twirled the metal pins out of her head. “Fucking, scraping my brain from the outside of my skull.”

        Harry had chuckled, untying the lace front of his blouse style shirt. “Wanna massage?”

        The affirmative groan made him grin like a child on Christmas.

        Y/N was the one to break the silence, after having her eyes rake over his own form. A fitted chequered suit paired with a simple dress shirt and chequered moccasins. One of the tamer looks for him, but he wasn’t feeling very festive this year. 

        “Hey.” 

        Harry sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. “Hi.”

        God, how had everything become so fucking awkward between them?

        “How,” she cleared her throat, “how are you?”

        “Honestly?” Harry wanted to spit out the ‘I’m fine’, the line that was so overused by her it’d lost its meaning, but he couldn’t. He’d always been an open book, especially with Y/N, so he told her the truth. “I’m hurting.”

        “Harry…” Her eyes met the floor unable to hold his green gaze.

        “Every day I wake up, and I’m in pain. And it’s not getting easier. And it won’t. Not for a long while.”

        “I’m sorry.”

        “I don’t want you to be sorry.” He laughed even though he didn’t mean it. “I just wanted you to talk to me. You know I’d never judge you.”

        “It’s not about that…”

        “Then what is it?” Harry snapped. “Because I’m at a fucking loss here. Have been for the past two and a half months.”

        “It’s not easy when…” Y/N actually bit down on her tongue to not let the words out. She took in a calm, collected breath; then she continued. “It’s not easy to open up like you want me to when my whole life I’ve been taught to just push it down. Push it away, forget about it. I don’t know a different life. That’s my normal, that’s what I know. I know you wouldn’t have judged me, you’re not that kind of a person. But it’s not even about that. It’s… it’s… why couldn’t you have just left everything at ‘I’m fine’?”

        “Because I don’t want to be fine,” he said, sad eyes looking right through her, right through to Y/N’s being. “I – I wanna be great, and ecstatic and fucking exhilarated or hurting or sad, even devastated. I want to feel things. And I want to share them with the person I trust most. I wanna share them with you. And I want you to share your emotions with me too. It’s not your job to carry the weight of the world on your own. That’s what a partner is there for.”

        Y/N broke away from Harry’s eyes given how her own were now lined with tears that threatened to slip down her cheeks. She sniffled, using the sleeve of her romper to press against her nose. 

        New Years. When the previous one had started off with so much love and hope and laughter and the new one seemed to only show it had tears and heartache ahead. God, this was the worst holiday in existence.

        “Ten, nine, eight,” the people inside counted down.

        “Y/N, please.” One last try. He had to.

        “Seven, six, five.”

        She just shrugged. “I don’t know how to be different."

        “Three, two, one! Hap–“

        “Happy New Year, Harry.” Y/N leaned up and pressed a lingering kiss against his cheek. “I hope you find someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

        With hands in her pockets, she retreated leaving him standing alone on the balcony, but right as she was about to close the sliding door, he spoke up.

        “I had.”

        That made Y/N spin around, cold air hitting her face just as harshly as the truth that spilt past his lips.

        “Only she didn’t trust that I loved her the same.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

A/N: Part 2? maybe??

P.S. my tags are always open :)

[thebadgerclan]

SFW Alphabet: Severus Snape

Requested by Anonymous

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Severus is quite possibly the most affectionate man to ever live.  I HC that his love language is physical touch, so he always has an arm around you, is holding your hand, has you in his lap, in his arms. Severus always wants to have you near him, always wants to be touching you in some way.  Kisses on your hand and cheek in public, on your forehead and lips in private.  He’ll also give you small gifts: a new quill when you need it, a book you’ve wanted to read, things like that.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) Severus is a loyal friend, regardless of your house or blood status.  He’s kind, funny, caring, always willing to help you with anything you need; homework, personal issues, he’s always willing to listen.  It starts after you’re partnered up for a potions project and Severus realizes that he has a bit of a rival in that class.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) Cuddles are one of Severus’ favorite things in the world.  Your arms are his favorite place, he loves holding you or being held by you.  When he holds you, he likes to lay on his back with you tucked into his side with your head resting on his chest, arms around your middle, or spooning you (he’s the big spoon)  When you hold him, Severus likes to be on his side, facing you, with his face buried in your chest, arms wound around your middle, keeping you close to him.  He also likes being the little spoon (even though he’s tall)

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) Severus does want to settle down with you, he dreams of a cozy little home somewhere with you, where you can just live your lives.  He wants to marry  you more than anything else in the world, he gets you a ring as soon as possible and pops the question.  The war keeps you two from having the wedding you want, but you make an Unbreakable Vow to each other, swearing to always love one another.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) The mere thought of breaking things off with you almost gives him a panic attack, but if he had to do it, he’d likely put up his Occlumency shields.  If he didn’t, he would break down and sob through it, unable to get through a single word.  He’d be brief and to the point: “Y/N, I’m sorry, but I can’t do this any more.  I’m so sorry, love.”  

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) Severus is a very committed lover: once he’s yours, he’s yours forever.  He never has eyes for anyone but you, you are the only person he will ever love.  After about 4 months into the relationship, Severus is thinking about marriage, but he knows it’s too soon.  He does start looking at rings at around 7ish months, and about a year or so into the relationship, he asks you to marry him.  The ring is simple but beautiful: a silver band with a princess cut diamond, flanked by a few small emeralds

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) Severus is so gentle with you, physically and emotionally.  You are one of the very few people that get to see this side of him: he could be raging about something Potter did, but he melts when he’s around you, sweetly taking you into his arms and holding you close.  He’s very emotionally available, he treats you with reverence and respect, never taking his anger out on you.  He does sometimes get angry, and sometimes, you make him angry, but he will NEVER raise a hand to you, NEVER hurt you.  He might shout a little when he’s angry, but he apologizes immediately after.  Severus tries to never shout at you, but he’s human, and it happens sometimes, but he never takes his anger out on you

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Oh yes, Severus Snape LOVES hugs, he hugs you at least 15 times a day.  He’ll legitimately get sad if he goes a day without hugging you.  Severus will pull you close to him, wrap his arms around your middle, and rest his chin atop your head.  If he’s feeling a bit more emotional (sad, angry, frustrated, anxious, etc.), he’ll stoop down and bury his face in your neck, still holding you tight.  HIs hugs last for at LEAST 40 seconds, and he’ll pout when you pull away.  His hugs are warm and welcoming, making you feel safe and secure

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) Severus wasn’t the one to say it first, mainly because he’s afraid you’ll leave him.  But when you say it, about 3 months into the relationship, Severus bursts into tears, burning his face in your chest.  “I love you,” he repeats over and over again.  “I love you, Y/N, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.”  After that, he tells you at least 20 times a day.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) Severus is a fiercely jealous man.  When he sees someone checking you out, chatting you up, or heaven forbid, touch you without your permission (and I mean arm, shoulder, hand touches).  He sees red, coming to your side immediately and wrapping an arm tight around you.  People know how jealous and possessive Severus tends to be, and he doesn’t even have to say anything, all he has to do is glare at the other person and they know they’ve overstepped

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) All encompassing, all consuming, world changing, that’s what Severus’ kisses are like.  He kisses with passion, with love, with devotion, yes, with lust too.  Obviously, he loves to kiss you on the lips, and when he does, he pulls you flush to him, kissing you with everything he is, pouring every ounce of his love and adoration into it.  You tend to wind your arms around his neck, sometimes threading your fingers through his hair.  Severus doesn’t do “pecks”, he either kisses you for 30 seconds straight or not at all.  The exception to his is when he kisses your hand around others.  He loves to kiss your forehead as well, as he can just bend a little to reach.  Severus will kiss your neck too, especially when things are getting steamy.  He likes to be kissed in the same places as he likes to kiss you, with the addition of his left forearm, directly over his Mark.  It just makes him feel extraordinarily loved

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) The way Severus acts around the students is completely different than how he’d act around his own children.  Severus would be a doting, adoring father, loving his children almost as much as he loves you.  He would cherish them with everything he is, crying the first few times they cry, sleeping on the floor next to their crib, showing pictures of them to anyone who will look.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Most mornings are early because Severus has classes, but every morning, Severus wakes you with a kiss on your forehead before the pair of you dress in comfortable silence.  Breakfast in the Great Hall is spent with Severus’ hand in yours, pressing kisses to the back of it every so often.  After that, he walks you to your classroom, kissing you sweetly before going down to the dungeons

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Evenings are spent in your shared rooms, in each other’s arms, reading, grading, talking, or just enjoying each other’s company.  It doesn’t matter how stressful or bad Severus’ day was, having you in his arms (or being in yours if it was a really bad day) makes everything better.  Often, you’ll share a shower or bath (which may or may not lead to sex) before getting into bed and cuddling until you fall asleep

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) It takes Severus a while to be comfortable to truly open up to you, but when he does, it’s an hour and a half of Severus telling you every single detail of his life.  You listen to every word, taking his hand when he cries, offering console when he needs it.  And when he’s done, when everything’s laid out at your feet, you take him into your arms and soothe him as he cries.  “I love you, Severus,” you say stroking his hair.  “I love you more than anything in the world.”

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Once again, how he acts around the students is different from how he acts around you.  Around the students, he’s snippy and short, but with you, his patience is endless.  He hardly ever snaps at you, and on the rare occasion he does, it’s usually because something else is bothering him.  And this is because you, simply put, don’t piss him off

  Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) Everything.  Literally everything.  Severus remembers every single thing you tell him, from your favorite shirt to your favorite books.  He does not forget, and he uses this to surprise you.  You mention you want something for a snack?  It’s on the coffee table the next day.  You said you liked this book you read 4 years ago?  He gets it for you.  Severus remembers every little thing you tell him

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) It’s not a super sentimental memory, it’s not connected to a major event, but it still makes his heart skip a beat.  Severus got out of bed at 2 AM to use the bathroom, and when he came back, you were tossing and turning, features twisted into those of discomfort and distress.  Severus was concerned, but when he got back into bed and pulled the covers over himself, you wormed into his arms, nuzzling into his chest.  At once, you relaxed, face going slack, sighing contentedly.  The fact that you not only noticed and missed Severus’ presence while asleep but made your way back into his arms and that soothed you while asleep makes him so happy.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) Severus is a very protective man, as Voldemort’s servant, he has to be.  He hates letting you out if his sight, hates it when he has to leave you when he’s Called, hates the thought of anything hurting you.  Severus teaches you defensive and offensive spells, some of them Dark, so you can protect yourself if Severus isn’t there.  At the height of the war, Severus also likes for you to send him a patronus every hour or so (even if you’re both in the castle), just so he knows you’re alright, and he’ll do the same for you

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) Severus putsa decent amount of effort into dates,especially at the beginning of the relationship.  Nice restaurants, candlelit dinners, champagne,the works.  He doesn’t put as much effort as the relationship goes on, but not because he’s slacking; quite the opposite, he just knows that he doesn’t have to “wow” you as much as he felt he had to in the beginning. That being said, Severus goes all out for anniversaries: fancy restaurants, champagne, candles, romantic music.  Gifts are much the same: jewelry, books, clothes, things that he knows you’ll love

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) He’s very hard on himself, thinking he’s not good enough, not handsome enough, that you can do better.  His self consciousness about his looks, the fact that he sometimes bottles up his feelings.  But he’s working on it.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) Not very, he keeps himself presentable and clean, he shaves a few times a week, keeps his hair at his signature shoulder length, but beyond that, he doesn’t do much.  Apparently (according to Severus) he looks good enough for you, and that’s enough.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) Absolutely, 1,000,000%.  You’re a part of his soul, when he’s apart from you, Severus is half a man, a shell of himself.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) Severus smells like sandalwood, leather, and fresh parchment

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) He doesn’t like it when people interrupt, him, you, or anyone else.  It makes him feel like they don’t care about what he or others have to say is important.  In terms of a partner, Severus can’t be with someone who’s not emotionally available.  He understands not opening up completely all at once and maybe keeping certain things to yourself, but he needs to feel like he knows you and what you’re feeling as well as being heard and understood himself.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) Severus is a light sleeper, has trouble falling asleep, and he suffers from nightmares, but when he’s with you, he’s able to sleep 8+ hours and have far less nightmares.  They don’t go away completely, but there are waaaaayyy less, maybe 1 or 2 every month.