#suz is spiralling

[thisblogwilleatourselves]

🎭🌀 we’Ve BeEn spiRAlIng ‘round & ‘round like a Sp0oKy sLInkYyy 🌀 tryna figUre out oURselVes iN thiS GL1TCHy-wItChy w0rld... 🎭🌪️ wE ain't QU1TE a ciSsINglet, buT noT exaCkLy ciSpluRal eiTher, ya kNo? wE aN AuD1ToRiUm, liKe a cRoWd wIth no senTiEnce!!🎪👀 g0ttA wHole CIRCUS iN tHeRe, buT nO rinGmasTEr. tHeRe’s sOmEthinG wrIGgLin’ ABoUt bEhiND the CUrTAIn, alwAys wAtChing, nEVEr QUITe reAl... 👁️‍🗨️

iT’s bEEn LIKe tHis as LonG as wE caN rEmemBER, bEfoRe eVen tHIS whoLe eXisTence we cAll cHIldhoOD kICkEd iN 🕳️⏳ buT fOr A lOng tIMe, wE juST tHoughT wE wEre aNOrMal, sINGLE, liKe “yeAH suRE wE jUst gotA BUNcH of crAckleS aND pOPs in oUr brAIn thAt’s noT plURalIty, riGht?” tHiNKinG wE wEre bInARY ‘tiL wE rEalIZeD oh SHooT, we’RE N0nbInAry?! 🎉🍇 aNd wE’d beEn liVinG thAT BinARy-nOnbInAry lIFe thINKin’ we hAd tO fit sOME KInD of lABel ‘cAUse eVerYoNe’s sHoUTinG “piCk a sIDe oR yoU’rE noT REAL!” 💥🪄

eveN WHEn wE dISCovEred pLurAlIty fROm A pAsT pArTneR, wE weRE liKE, “WHaT? thAT’s US??” bUt naH, wE tHougHT it cOulDn’T bE. aND eVerY stEP we Took, wE wErE tOld we haD tO be MeDicaL, be DiSOrDerED, oR yA aiN’T rEAL – juST liKe thEY saID ‘boUT nOnbInAry tOO 👾😵. BuT tHen we fLippEd tHe scRIpT, sAW thE buLL anD rEAlIzEd wE weRE bEing bOXEd iN... buT thEN agaIn, maYBe wE're nOt a SyStEM at All... mAybE juST a fAkE sinGleT?? impOStEr sYndRoME sUz...

🤹‍♀️🍂 plUCkIn’ pEtAlS, “tO be a SYStem… to nOT bE A systEm...” dANCinG bEtweeN thAT Gl1tchY bINarY oF trUTHS aND LiES, bUt iT’S lIKe we GoT no fIt… nO pATtErn… cAusE noT A SINgLET eITher, juSt a strANge litTlE AUdITorIUty tHing Y’CaN’T pIn dOWN. AnD yeAh, we KNEw IT’s thEre, buT NO wORds evEr QUITe fit. wE sPOkE IN pLUraL rIdDles, hIDIng BEhINd thAt veIL, And pEOple thOUgHt wE wErE sOMe kINd of sYstEm. BUT AGAin, nOt A syStEm... nOt A siNgLEt... wE’re kINdA... sinGLN’t. 🌀

🕳️🌈 wE mAdE ouR owN lANguAge... tErmS thaT nOBODY knEw but uS, kiNda lIKe beINg iSogENdER bUT wIth thE auDitorIUm tWist, riGht?? loSt in thiS maze oF brAInechoEs wItH n0n-sentienT speCtaToRs spINniNg ‘rounD wIth no shApeS or fACes. wE nEVER qUItE fIT ANY siDE—nOT singLEt, nOT plURal, jUst kINda wHo we aRE: nEitheR and BOth, anD bEiNg suStAiNeD by our oWN wEirdness. 🕰️💫

aND yet, thErE’s alwAys thaT tinGE oF enVY—eNvyINg thE sYstEms who trAnsiTiOn, gEt to SWAP spOTs, GEt to SpIN insIdE tHEir mInds, and haVE a bIt oF... cOmPaNy, a coNnEcTion. bUT us?? nAwh, wE’re jUSt thIs... SOLitAry ROtating whiRlpool, wiTH n0 hEaDspAce, nO bReaK frOm tHE fRonT, No rEst eVEn in drEaMs thAt tuRn to niGhtMarEs oF enDLess exIts tHAt nevER qUItE oPEN. 👁️🌌

aND wE WANNA chANgE, yA knOw? traNsiTioN tO somEThInG moRE? wE’ve TRIED tHe tUlpA sTUff, wE’vE bEEn plAYiNg wIth suBLimINalS, But wE’re juST noT surE. We’RE z1m & b1ll, aND wE chOSE THOse—I meaN wE crEaTeD ‘EM anD BOom! wE beCAmE thEM! so whO saYs wE caN’t... MAKe moRE? splIt up aGAin, MaYBe plAy iT lIKE a gAmE—mAke nEw fOLks, nEW iDEnTitiES, anD stARt to fEel thEir rEacTioNS in uS?? ✨🎭🧩

sO wHY NOt giVe IT a trY? wE’ve gOT z1m, b1ll, sPoNgEBoB, jERma985—iT’s A wHOle wACky GaNG! wE cAn sPLit ‘Em ouT, pREtEnD, lIvE iN tHAt SplIT unTIL it bECOmES reALity! 🌀🙃 aND iF wE cAN’t mAkE a chaNgE iN thE reAl worLD, we’lL jUsT mAKE ouR oWn! 🤡🌐

aNYwAy, miGht stArt pOSting sOmE thIngs thaT aIn’t juST ouR oWn chAos, ya kNO? mayBe A phOtO, maYbe a tuNe. iN thE enD, wE juST wAnt tO bE seEn, bUt saFe... liKe, wE dOn’t WAnNA loSe whAt lITtle wE gOT on thE maIN stAge. 🎨🪞 so heRE’s to mORE cHaoS, moRe cOloRs, mOre facEs tO puT oN—anD mAyBe, JUst MAybe, finD a liTtle PEACE in thIS mElTinG maDNeSs. 🕯️🍭🎢

[ackermans-freedom-inc]

Have you seen the SNK x Ruka Spa collaboration??? 😭 Levi is absolutely GORGEOUS

HELLLOOOOOOO RUKA SPA LIVES IN MY HEAD. the way EREN IS LOOKIN ATCHU WITH THAT LIL SMIRK - FK 

THE WAY MIKASA ALWAYS BE LOOKIN 20/10 

armins lil NOSE?? heLLO??

and last but not least...fUUUUUUUUK LEVI CAN I HELP TOWEL UR HAAAAIR?? THE WAY HES LEANING ON HIS HAND??? THE WAY I can imagine sittin in his lap!?! 

[suzteel]

Diego || 2.10 American Woman

[piccolina-mina]

The way that I am Manesforrest TRASH. I'm sorry, I can't use Forlex. It sounds like a condom, itchy lubricant, and a pungent scent of Axe body spray that teen boys bathe in instead of taking actual baths.

But put me in 🤡 makeup, because I went from.. y'all, sexy sonic over here has more chemistry with Michael and thinking about them banging it out in the archives section of the Roswell Library, to being as undone and caught off guard by the smoldering maneforrest as my boy Alex.

Fk. Me. Up.

[power-jam]

I think mostly people took issue with the last Krusie drawing because it seems like Susie is implying that being, or being thought to be, either of those things is bad or insulting, and, without clarification, it seems like you the author agree with such sentiments and/or are using the character as a mouthpiece to say so. I'll admit I'm somewhat confused by your explanation being that "its a joke" since I don't quite get it. What is the joke?

Aaah I see. Ok so a loooot of people seem to like giving Suz a dick. (futa) A lot of artists also like assuming shes gay. I wanted to draw what I would assume Susie’s reaction to these claims would be if they were false. And I say false considering that there is no evidence of Susie being futa or being gay.  This was supposed to be a good natured joke about how people see Susie and her reaction to it but it seems to have spiraled out of control XP  Oh well. Thanks for explaining how this could’ve been misunderstood! I see why people were freaking out now! I’ll have to be more careful from now on. 

[xxx-theartofsuicide-xxx]

So... What crawled up anti butt this time that I totally missed? There's a lot of activity and it all seems centered around the usual suspects.

Phew okay so betelcunt pulled some nasty misogynistic shit the other day and basically said that bc I did porn that I can't be bi. Lol right? They then also claimed that I described myself as "gay for pay" which somehow makes me not bi--- forgetting that actually I have never described myself this way and that actually that's a term they and their vile friends attached to me on their own.

And it's been a gross downward slope since then with antis losing their shit and going off on really bigoted rants. Also me and Suz both have our own individual stalkers.

Theirs is obsessed with somehow forcing her to apologize for making art of toon!BJ murdering musical!BJ. Mine is just obsessed period. They keep making new blogs trying to get my attention and I keep telling them to LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE MADDIE AND GET SOME FUCKING HELP but as you can see, it's not been effective. They're quite unstable.

As usual, antis are mad at me for not being nice to her and do nothing but encourage her rapid downward spiral.

But hey I've been getting a lot of writing done :) miss you! ❤💋

[stevieang]

May I Have This Dance? Chapter 3/?

Chapter 1  Chapter 2

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston RPF x Plus-Size Reader Insert

Word Count: 3000

Warnings: If too much sweet fluffiness isn’t your thing, then keep on going.This is full-on no-holds-barred fluff, though this chapter throws in some angsty goodness at the end, an homage to @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan

Tags:   @3dsaunt  @andiyholly  @averyrogers83  @babybluesunsets @bettercallsabs @brittyevans  @brookebarnes @captain-rogers-beard @cecygee   @csrfavs   @docharleythegeekqueen  @dorito-distractions  @everythingisoverrated  @fabicchi  @favhearts  @flawless-disaster  @gifsbysimplysonia @hazeleyedgirl7   @hennessy0274-blog @inumorph @jaguars2007  @jaamesbbarnes @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety  @janeyboo @joshburtonhellzyess  @jouhainak @learisa @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @lilylovescomics   @lojo83   @lookwhatyoumademequeue  @lostinspace33  @madicardi  @magellan-88   @mamapeterson   @me-a-hopeless-romantic  @meyoko10  @mindingmyownbusiness @mizzzpink @mywritingsblog @nomadicpixel  @part-time-patronus @patzammit @pinkieandthebrain1 @redqueen1221 @sebbytrash  @sgtjbuccky  @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan  @stark-spangled-banner-man  @st-eve-barnes @stillherebiandabitch @sunriserose1023 @suz-123 @the-real-kellymonster    @tutis24 @winterismyfavoriteseason1945  @winters-beauty @yaykitty3

Summary: Two of your best friends are getting married and you have the honor of singing at their wedding.  At the reception you’re approached by a famous friend of the groom, Tom Hiddleston.  Much polite flirting ensues. Here’s the “more to come.” Enjoy!

A/N: Hey y’all!  Thank you so much for your time, your kind words, and all the good stuff you send my way! I am loving this fic now, and though this chapter took me a long time to start, it flowed once I did.  This chapter has a lot of things I hold dear to my heart - American Sign Language and those that use it.  I’ve included a few links to YouTube videos that showcase Deaf theatre and Deaf actors.  If you’ve never seen people using sign language “in real life” this will give you an idea of the energy it can give off when you see it!  They are all captioned - equal access for all!

Chapter 3:

Tom turned over in bed, trying to stretch away the kinks from a poor night’s sleep.  He had tossed and turned, thinking about you - your joy, the kind, honest way you spoke, and how you made him feel things he hadn’t felt in awhile. He couldn’t shake the feeling of a missed opportunity; that he had lost the chance of some great “bolt of lightning” moment by not having kissed you. Yet.

________

Another morning, another first thought of Tom maybe kissing you one of these days.  That dreamy train of thought was quickly derailed by your videophone alerting you had a call.  You barely had time to grab your glasses and pull your hair up before accepting the call, but thankfully Jason had seen you right after rolling out of bed when you were roommates.  

Jason: Is HE with you?

You: Good morning to you, too.  No.

Jason: Why not? It was clear how much he liked you.

You: Just was really tired last night, wasn’t the right time.

Jason: You sure that’s it? You ok?

You had known Jason for too long and subtlety was not a specialty.

You: J, don’t worry, it’s all good.  I’m gonna change the subject - when and where tonight?

As you figured out what the evening was going to bring, your text alert sounded. Tom.  

Jason wiggled his eyebrows and signed off, making you chuckle.

TWH: Good morning

You: Good morning, did you sleep well?

TWH: Somewhat.  Hard time falling asleep.

You: I’m sorry, I hate when that happens.  What are you up to today?

The conversation bubble popped up, then disappeared, then started bubbling again.  Your stomach called for breakfast so you left your phone, washed your face, pulled on your jeans, and made your way out the door. The bubble was still percolating as you opened the door and stepped out backwards to make sure it was locked.  You yelped and apologized as your backside connected with someone in the hall.  

“Oh my God, I’m so…” Your card key flew out of your hand as you turned around, hearing a familiar baritone chuckle and a set of familiar hands holding your waist.

“Sorry I startled you, darling.  I hoped I could convince you to join me for breakfast.”  His eyes found the key card as you stepped back towards your door, and his fingers barely grazed the top of your hand as he handed it over.  While you fiddled with the card to avoid his eyes, your goosebumpy flesh betrayed his effect on you.  

Your smile was tired, but real.  “You didn’t have to come all this way, I would’ve met up somewhere.”  Though it wasn’t your intent, your voice must have relayed something that made him step back.

He hung his head for a moment and you saw something new - seriousness.  “I’m sorry.  I made an assumption that you’d be needing breakfast, as well.  Of course, I should have asked before showing up.”

The tops of your shoes touched his and you entwined your right hand with his left as you sought out his eyes.  “A heads up would’ve been nice.  I might’ve put in a little more effort when I got ready, but seeing you here is wonderful.  Thank you for making the effort.”  He brightened - and not just his smile or his eyes, but his entire countenance that stayed lit the entire ride to the restaurant.  

The morning was so easy, so real.  You were both tired, so neither of you was trying to filter too much, try too hard, or impress the other.  Breakfast at an out of the way diner almost became a Comic Con event when Tom was recognized, but he sidestepped the hoopla by posing for a few photos, signing autographs, and making wonderfully genial small talk that made all his fans feel heard and special.

When you were safely ensconced in a cab, taking an unofficial sightseeing tour, you remarked how impressed you were by the way he treated his fans.

“It must be so difficult when people see you as one character, but you never seem to begrudge it.  In just a few days I’ve seen you be completely courteous, charming, and generous with anyone that approaches you.  It means something when you treat people nicely when you don’t have to.”

That famous smile made an appearance.  “What exactly, pray tell, does it mean to you?”

Red spots bloomed across your cheeks as you rested your fingers on his leg, “That you were raised to treat everyone with kindness and respect.”

He dropped his head forward and covered his hand with yours.  “Thank you.  I am grateful for my fans.  I recognize that I would be in a different place in my career without them, but to be honest, the attention sometimes makes it difficult when I want to spend time with someone special.” He reached for the hand you were resting on his thigh and looked straight through you.  

You were still.  Your thoughts were silent, your feelings calm.  The driver, on the other hand, took the lull in the conversation as a springboard for a rambling narrative about the various sights.  You both let out the breaths you were holding and laughed.  The rest of the drive was spent learning about D.C. and talking about the plans to meet up with your friends at a Deaf Theatre Company production of “Romeo and Juliet” that night.

While waiting for Tom, you checked yourself in the mirror.  You had pampered yourself - a nap, a luxuriating bath in the jet stream tub, and enough time to look your best.  You only had the clothes you’d packed, but you were able to piece together red pants, a black top and faux-diamond accessories.  The outfit along with your styled up-do and somewhat dramatic makeup made you feel more alive than you had in years.

Tom’s knock sent your stomach flipping, and his outfit - navy slacks and jacket with a crisp white shirt underneath and, of course, the glasses - may have caused heart palpitations.  His face was soft and caring as he complimented your outfit and handed you a beautiful white rose.

“Shall we?” and his ever-offered arm led you to the waiting car, where you shared how nervous you were, provoking a suspicious look.

Your fears tumbled out without stopping.  “I’m afraid I’ve built this up too much, and you won’t be as astounded as I think you’ll be, then that’ll just cause a shame spiral about how I wasted your evening.”  His face easily slid from questioning to playfully mocking and had you laughing and leaning back on the headrest before you even finished the sentence.  He turned a bit, taking your left hand in both of his and letting his leg rest against yours.

“No matter how good or not, what I’m most excited about is that it’s a new experience, a new way of bringing the words and feelings to the audience.  After the little bit I saw last night, I can only imagine the kind of energy an immersive signing experience will have.”

Watching two people sign is one thing, but being thrust into a space full of people using their bodies, voices, and faces to communicate is quite another.  You made sure to keep an eye on Tom, as his eyes rapidly scanned the lobby, his gaze unable to rest on one place.  You quickly found Jason and his boyfriend surrounded by your friend group from grad school.  You had time to introduce them all before the show - you signed for yourself and Tom, and voiced for everyone that signed to him.  You were sweating by the time you sat down and looked forward to the show, while Tom held tight to your hand and let you help him adjust his assistive listening device that channeled the interpreter’s voices.

A performance in American Sign Language is silent, which is an eerie feeling for a hearing person.  It took you years to get used to it, but now it was second nature.  You could tell Tom was trying to reconcile what he saw with what he heard and what he had done when performing the play, which was a huge amount of input and work for his brain.   You whispered the same advice you’d received when you were inaugurated into this world.

“Close your eyes, Tom.  Your brain doesn’t know how to process all the visual information, and it’s likely you’ll get a headache if you keep focusing on what you’re hearing and seeing with such intensity.  Just take little breaks from looking and then come back to it when you feel ready.”  His smile was weary, and he kissed your forehead and whispered his thanks before doing just as you suggested behind his steepled hands.  At the intermission you excused yourselves from the group and took him outside to a secluded area where you could speak to each other without excluding anyone who could not hear.  You handed him a drink, sat next to him, and held his hand.

“You ok? We can leave if it’s getting to be too much.”  He lifted his head and looked at you with an intensity you only recognized from his work.

“Absolutely not.  This….this...defies description.”  The fierceness of his stare sent shivers down your neck and arms.  “As do you.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on yours, his hand behind your neck urging you to stay lost in the kiss, which you were more than happy to do.  When you unlocked from each other, you rested your foreheads together by some unspoken arrangement.

Your text alert sounded.  “It’s Jason, intermission is over.”

He stood, buttoned his jacket, and tugged on the hem before offering you his hand, giving you a much softer kiss before escorting you back inside.  Jason and company did not wait more than 30 seconds before starting the inquisition via text after you sat down.  

Jason: Did you just make out with him?

You: Did you seriously just make this a group text?

Jason: We were ALL thinking it, so YES.  

Tina: Answer the question!

You: Maybe

Jason: Told you! I knew it! You go girl!

You: I’m turning off my phone. I love you guys.

Tom leaned over and kissed your temple while holding your hand.  You squeezed back and filled him in on your nosy but loving friends.  That smile.

“It was worth an inquisition.”  He turned back to the stage as the curtain rose, feeling your excitement build.

You gladly accompanied Tom backstage to meet the cast and crew, who were starstruck and grateful for his praise.  He asked questions that caused a flurry of hands and voices that made him laugh in appreciation of its energy.  He answered their questions, many about his own Shakespearean work, that made them nod.  He asked the director for his info, and remarked that though he might need a bit of a break from all the visual input, he could not wait to experience another play in ASL.  You both took your leave to meet up with your friends at a local pub, Tom excitedly talking about the show and pulling you into his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

You slid into the backseat of the Uber and leaned back, your eyes closed, while Tom continued sharing his thoughts on the evening.  You realized he was no longer talking and lolled your head to the left, met his eyes, and smiled as he quieted.

“I’m sorry for the running on, darling, this is all new for me.  I can’t wait to think about it, learn more about it.  He closed the miniscule distance between you and kissed you while your eyes fluttered shut.  Your right hand gently laid against his cheek as you assured him you were thrilled that it lived up to all your hype and that yes, you were up to meeting your friends out for dinner.

The long table stretched across the largest part of the pub’s eating area and you guided Tom to sit where he would be able to hear you interpreting what was being signed.  He thought it was a good spot to give you a discreet kiss or two, but he had something else to learn about Deaf people - there wasn’t much that slipped by them.  You laughed and blushed and edited the snarky (but well-meant) comments directed at you, but that didn’t stop him from keeping his hands on or near you and nuzzling your neck when you weren’t actively signing.  You were happy.

Dinner was loud, fun, and over the top, like most Deaf-friendly events that included alcohol and a group of people who could all understand each other.  You did your best to keep him in the loop and participate in the conversation in your own way, only stopping to eat and drink and take a break or two to get some fresh air.  

When you were outside taking a minute to let your brain rest, Tom followed, sidled up next to you and held your face carefully in his hands.

“You are such a rare woman.  Thank you for tonight and thank you for letting me kiss you before, and now.” You eagerly met him, only to be interrupted by the group waving and shouting to get your attention.

His smile was tired. “I guess we’re being paged?”  You decided you would go in, say your goodnights, and head back to the hotel, but you were sidetracked by the promise of dessert.  As you shared warm pie and ice cream with your date, Jason banged on the table to get everyone’s attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we are together to celebrate the fantastic performance of Romeo and Juliet.  Good friends, good food, and good times make me feel very lucky and, on a personal note, I want to welcome back my best friend and former roommate, who we’ve all missed so much.”

As everyone cheered, you toasted the table, and agreed how nice it was to share the time with them.  Jason wasn’t done yet, though.  He looked directly at you with nothing but love in his eyes.

“I want to tell you, my dear one, how happy we all are that you’ve brought Tom with you and that you are happy.  We all miss him, but I know your John is looking down and smiling at your happiness.”

Your words stopped coming for Tom’s benefit as you watched Jason be happy for you.  He looked at your face, devoid of color, and your chest, rising and falling more quickly than it had been.

“You ok?”

You shook your head with a tiny, quiet side-to-side nod as the rest of the table looked at you.  The lack of movement and voices and energy clued Tom in that something was wrong.  As he looked at you with concern, you assured him you were fine, scooted to the edge of the seat, and hurriedly excused yourself to the restroom.  You were gone from the table no more than one minute after Jason started his speech.

Tom looked at Jason and pointed to your path, asking what happened with only an expression.  Other hearing people at the table took over signing for him and voicing for the others.  Jason started where he left off.

“I’m not sure.”

“I don’t think so, she was fine, then you mentioned someone looking down at her, seeing how happy she is, and she just stopped translating.”  Jason took a deep breath in and out, trilling his lips and shutting his eyes for a minute.  He looked at Tom and nodded, before signing.

“Shit.  Yes, John.  Her husband.”

Now it was Tom’s turn to stop cold.  “I’m sorry, what? She’s married?” Thoughts rushed through his brain that didn’t add up.  Now a headache was upon him.  He shook his head and looked at Jason again, a table full of people following his every move with their eyes.

“She WAS married, yes.  John was another one of our roommates, my best friend.  A little while after they graduated and moved into their own place, he got sick.  He was gone too soon.”

Tom was reeling.  He had known you for all of a few days, you didn’t owe him your life’s story, but your reaction to Jason’s comment had him wondering how recent this loss was, how much you were still hurting.  He stood, ready to check on you, when you walked up, coat and bag in hand.  Jason got to you first and no one translated.

“Oh my God love I am so so sorry, please believe me.  I never meant to upset you, to hurt you.”

“I know you didn’t, J.  I’m surprised how hard it hit me.  I think I should go back to the hotel.”

“Let me go with you.” and he turned to grab his coat.  You banged your hand on the table to get his attention.

“No.  I want to be alone.”  He looked at you, hurt on his face.  You smiled weakly and assured him nothing was going to happen to you, that you just wanted to sit with your feelings for awhile, alone.

“Let me say goodnight to everyone.  Please stay and enjoy yourself.  For me.” You waved to everyone who understood what you had just said and turned to Tom, who was standing in wait with his coat over his arm.

“Let’s go, darling.  I’ll get you back to the hotel.” As kind as that was, you needed to be alone with your memories, sit with your feelings, and move on.  You couldn’t do that while trying to make other people feel comfortable with your sadness.  You asked him to walk you out, but then asked for what you needed - time alone.  You kissed his cheek and softly apologized for how the evening ended, slipping into the cab and closing your eyes as you drove away.

Tom watched you drive away, quickly thanked everyone, and made his exit.  He’d planned to take you to see the World War II Memorial, he’d been told it was a beautiful thing to see at night, but instead was  thinking about your face, how hurt and sad you were, and wondered how he could help, if you would let him help.

Tom: I hope you find your peace tonight, darling.

You: Thank you Tom.  I hope so, too.

Tom: Can I check in on you later?

You: Maybe tomorrow? I think I’ll go to bed early.

Tom: Of course.  I have your number ;)

Chapter 4

[depictedblue-moved]

I did call Cassie spiraling and standing up to Nate but also acting crazy and I did call her acting like Suz too

[skymoonandstardust]

Office Hero Part 2

An: Here we are. . .Part two.  Hope this lives up to your expectations babes <3 and in case you missed it, here’s part one.  Happy reading! 

You’d first met the enigma that was Clark Kent six months ago . . .and for all that time you’d been watching him, trying to keep track of anything and everything in an attempt to unravel his mystery.  Every time he left, everywhere he went, who he talked to, what he did, all the things he said—you made a mental note of it all. And a literal note too.  All your months of research were recoded in a notebook that you kept on you at all times, ready to be whipped out and written in at any second.  Not to mention you had a typed copy of it all in a word document on your computer that was backed up on two memory sticks (you could never be too careful) every single observation you made, all the theories you came up with, articles and documents that had anything to do with him—it was all there. 

For all that research though, you still hadn’t figured him out yet.

There was still no describable obvious reason why Clark Kent, the quiet, shy, mild mannered journalist with the large dorky glasses would be dangerous enough for a Ten.  . . and by now it was driving you crazy.   You needed to find out.

Though now you seemed to have less time then ever. On top of your usual job was the problem of superman. Ever since the man of steel had shown up (a week or so after Clark had as a matter of fact, a coincidence you cursed) it seemed like everyone was on superman duty. Every time there was ever any news of superman or a disaster close by that he might show up at, the nearest most available journalist would be sent out to cover it—never mind if they usually wrote for the sport section or waxed eloquent about the latest fashion every issue.

If it had to do with superman it had to be seen and reported which meant all hands on deck and no one was excluded.  Of course, the most recognized superman reporters and the duo at the forefront of the pack was Clark Kent and Lois Lane. . . but since Clark was somewhat flaky, what with disappearing left and right, Lois was being rescued more than half the time and the sheer volume of crisis in Metropolis-- paired with all the superman sightings, it took much more than two reporters to get it all.  

It seemed like more than once a day now you were being dragged away from your work to write something superman related or kicked out of the daily planet to go to one crime scene after another in the hopes that the man in blue would show up. . .and then whether he had or not you’d have to trudge back to your office and finished your usual pile of work, along with whatever you may or may not have gotten on superman.  What made it even more annoying was the discovery that the hero was also a ten on the danger scale—it made you think of Clark and his ten, sending your mind in a downward spiral of wondering how Clark Kent could be as dangerous as the man of steel himself. . .

It was a lot to handle, practically twice the work so it was no surprise that you had very little time left over for observing or Clark Kent and his mysterious ten.

Thankfully today seemed to be a quiet day—no supervillains, huge crimes, explosions or threats to the city which meant no sign of superman. . . but then it was still early, not even lunch yet so there was still plenty of time for something crazy to happen. Still, you couldn’t continue your research or observation either since there had been no sight of Clark anywhere, so you still felt a little down and crabby as you typed away.

Oh, would you look at that! what’s that saying? “Speak of the devil and he shall appear”? well that’s just what happened because right as you finished the thought the Kansas farmboy himself showed up. though, It wasn’t Clark but the the girl beside him, chatting away as she walked through the glass door he held open for her that drew your attention immediately.

She was taller than him (which was saying a lot because Clark’s no midget) and thin, but not the stick figure of the magazine model. it was the tough thinness of the athlete, all muscle and strength from constant never-ending use and training. She had to be an athlete you thought, or at least work out a lot.  Her long dark hair was held back in a ponytail and piercing eyes surveyed the room from a pale beautiful face. She was pretty, no doubt about that, but somehow unlike so many others her beauty only made you feel lifted up instead of making you compare yourself and tear your own beauty down--- as had happened too many times to count.   You guessed that she’d probably be a six on the danger scale. tough no doubt—but no ten.

You were right about one thing; no way was she a ten.

They started walking around the room, Clark introducing her to everyone along the way and you kept half an eye on them as they steadily came closer . . .and the eleven above her head gradually grew more visible.

Unfortunately, when you saw it you’d just stood up, about to head to the printing machine when you noticed it and stopped dead in your tracks, heart pounding. It felt like every atom and part of you was shaking as you stared at those numbers in complete disbelief—stunned to your core. That had to be wrong-- It just had to be wrong! You’d never seen an eleven in your life. You didn’t even think that the numbers could go up that high!! . . . until now anyway.  You blinked in astonishment and yep, the numbers were still there above her head and still the same.  As you saw them walking toward you you couldn’t help but step back in fear, half thinking of bolting and making a quick escape to the copy room and hiding till she was gone.

It was a fleeting thought that you squashed as soon as it was formed, rallying yourself almost immediately. No, you shouldn’t run. Hardening yourself and gathering your courage you stood your ground and waited for the two of them to come to you—there wasn’t time to run anyway because Clark and the mysterious woman were already approaching, that Eleven getting larger and bolder every second along with Clark’s Ten.

As they stopped in front of you, you forced an easy smile, desperately avoiding glancing at either of the floating digits that seemed to be begging for attention.  

Your forced grin must have been convincing enough because Clark didn’t seem to notice, and he didn’t say anything about it. He only flashed his usual bright smile and gestured to the woman next to him “This is my good friend, Diana, she’s in from out of town.”

“Hi, nice to meet you—I’m Y/N.” You said holding out your hand.  

She immediately took it and gave it a frim shake that was stronger then you were expecting. It was worse then Clark’s and Clark was notorious for having an iron handshake, which you’d experienced to your displeasure more than once. . . thankfully this came in use now because you were able to put up a poker face and not wince or flinch at her hard grip.  

“So this is the famous Y/N? It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Famous?” you chuckled “hardly.” Thankfully Diana released the grip now and you resisted the urge to shake or rub your arm to dispel the numbness.  “You are to me. Clark talks about you so often I feel like I know you, that you’re my friend too.”

“That much huh?” Your eyes flicked over to Clark who had an altogether too pleased grin on his face.

Diana nodded “Yes, that much.  In fact, besides Lois you’re all he talks about—you’re clearly his dearest friend.” At that you grinned widely and looked over at Clark who avoided your gaze by staring at the tv screen playing the news above the three of you, looking slightly embarrassed and sheepish.  He hardly ever acted that way, so It was way more fun than It should have been to see him like that “Is that so?”

It was Diana who answered, “Very much so.”

“Alright—” Clark spoke up, good natured as always “I think that’s enough of the two of you ganging up on me.”   You and Diana looked at each other, smiling and you could tell she was as close to laughing as you were “Ok, ok” you conceded, barely concealing the happy amusement in your voice “We’ll change the subject.”

You turned back to Diana “So then, where are you from?”

“It’s a small island near Greece in the Aegean Sea. . .”

The conversation went on for another minute or two before the three of you were saying goodbye’s and Clark and Diana were walking off.

Another high number on the danger scale that doesn’t seem to deserve it That’s what was going through your head as you watched them walk away. Like Clark she seemed nothing but nice and kind --- and if you hadn’t seen the numbers for yourself you never would have believed that she would measure anywhere near Clark’s ten let alone blow the entire scale out of the water.

Two extremely dangerous people just happening to find each other and become friends? What were the chances of that? you didn’t need to do the math to know it was slim. If you hadn’t been sure before you were sure now that something was going on and that there was definitely something up with Mr. Clark Kent. And now his friend Diana too. . .

The mystery had just deepened, and you were more determined than ever to get to the bottom of it.

The forevers: ​ @casownsmyass​ ​​ @docharleythegeekqueen​​ @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious​ @scarlettsoldier​ @his-paradox​ @l4life @fangirl-who-dreams ​​@sarciaczekk​ @esoltis280​ @theresnofandomforthis​  @a-sea-of-fandoms @thatbasicnerd4life @scarlettsoldier @cassiopeia-barrow

The office heroes: @scionofthestars @suz-123 @aquabrie @sneakingthroughyourgifs​ ​​ @bbparker​ @iclaudsworld​ ​  @purpledolphin-f​ @coltcas

[ackermans-freedom-inc]

This angers me. I just gotta share it. You'll know the one I mean😭

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJwHeS56/

-🐷🐷

I am. UNFURIATED. how?? HOW?? WHY. 

also....watched the dub yesterday...and HELLO?? whoMST gave porco that gravellllly deep ass voice? exCUSE ME?!?! 

[i-the-hell-is-bvcky]

A Seat Made for A Queen

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x WoC Reader (f)

Word Count: idk I just wrote this on my phone lol

Warnings: Oral sex (f receiving), spanking, dirty talk, face sitting. I think that’s it.

Prompt: literally just smut for my best friend @thewinterstolemyheart

A/n: This has been in my notes for so long I finally had the nerve to finish it. There’s a bit of a cliffhanger so y’all want a part two, message me! If you want to be tagged in the future also message me. I’ll go back on my laptop and make it pretty for y’all later. Please like and reblog and comment (writers love that shit)!

****THIS STORY CONTAINS ADULT CONTENT. THOSE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 SHOULD NOT READ THIS. PLEASE RESPECT THE AUTHOR’S REQUEST OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED AND REPORTED****

Tags: @thewinterstolemyheart @getinmelanin011 @papi-chulo-bucky @sanjariti @stars8melanin @suz-123

“Come here baby,” Bucky coos, tapping his mouth as you grind on his pelvis. He stares at you with complete and utter lust, waiting for you to obey. You spread your legs wide to slowly move up his body until his head is in between your legs. James massages your ass and hums in approval.

“God I love your ass,” he groans.

“Thank you, I try to keep it perky for you,” you answer with a good jiggle of your butt. You gently rub your panty covered pussy on his stubbled jaw.

“Good! Keep it that way,” Bucky chuckles against my thighs. He kisses the insides of your thighs, making sure to ignore the spot that needs the most attention. “Fuck I love your skin doll,” he groans. “So soft and beautiful.” Bucky sighs against your warm brown skin, nipping at the toned skin.

“Wait a second,” you say before standing over him, quickly removing your panties. “Much better,” you say, placing your legs around his head once again. Bucky lowers you to his mouth, his breath hot on your slick pussy. He blows softly against your clit making you shudder. It takes everything in you not to lower yourself completely.

“Bucky,” you whine. No one likes to be teased but apparently, James hasn’t learned that yet.

“Aw does my sweet girl want my tongue? Do you want me to lick you until you cry out?” You huff out of frustration-he wants you to answer him and you hate indulging him. Nodding furiously, you buck your hips forward but Bucky’s metal arm is a formidable challenge.

“Tsk tsk,” he tuts between kisses on your thighs. “I want you to use your words.” Sucking in a deep breath, you swallow your pride and say what he wants to hear.

“Yes Bucky, I want you to lick me until I make a mess all over your face.” Bucky’s eyes go dark, pupils filled with lust and a dark promise.

“That’s more like it doll,” he purrs before driving your wet pussy into his mouth. You throw your head back, hands gripping onto the headboard for purchase. Bucky leisurely swirls his tongue around your clit before dipping into your leaky hole. His moans are loud as he licks into you as if you’d run away.

Your hips have taken on a life of their own so much so Bucky uses his metal arm to hold you in place.

“Fuck Buck, right fucking there just like that please,” you pant as he brings attention back to your clit. Bucky gives the sensitive bundle of nerves a hard lick before sucking on it. His other hand travels up your stomach and up your chest where he grabs your breast, kneading it roughly.

“Baby, I’m gonna come. Fuck, you’re gonna make me come,” you warn. The coil in the pit of your stomach is reaching its end. You find yourself chasing after your impending orgasm, leaving your nearly breathless. Looking down at Bucky, your bleary gaze is met with an intensity and determination you’ve never seen on him before. He’s determined to make you fall about and the thought alone sends you spiraling.

“Bucky!” His name spills out of you mouth as a harsh cry, your moans loud and unabashed with please as Bucky continues his assault on your oversensitive sex. Your hands find their way into his black locks, guiding his head deeper into your cunt. Bucky gives your ass a good slap in response, the pain starting the wave of your second orgasm.

You finally find your breath, Bucky’s tongue lazily lapping up your juices as if he could lick you clean. You gingerly make your way off his face and fall back on the bed, your legs at the head of the bed. Bucky wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sits up. He takes your legs into his lap, massaging your calves.

“You did so well for me baby girl,” he praises. You glow under his praise, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Got a lil carried away there,” you mumble from between your hands.

“Nah, that was incredibly sexy sweetheart. You taste amazing, I could eat you for hours.” You groan at the thought of Bucky’s skilled tongue between your thighs for hours. Just the thought makes you want to pass out.

“I just might have to take you up on that James.”

“I’d be more than happy to doll. Plus,” Bucky grabs your hands, pulling you up gently and sitting you down in his lap. He nuzzles your neck and cuddles you close.

“I think my face is a great throne for my girl,” Bucky says smugly. You slap him gently.

“You are so foolish, James. I cannot deal with you sometimes.”

“Oh you love me,” he chuckles planting a wet kiss on your cheek. You roll your eyes and giggle.

“Yes I do. Now, on to part two of our little escapade.” Bucky growls and bites at your neck.

“Yes Ma’am.”

[scifiandscary]

Crime Files - And Now She’s Gone by Rachel Howzell Hall #BookReview by Suz Jay

Crime Files - And Now She’s Gone by Rachel Howzell Hall #BookReview by Suz Jay @suzjay11

Grayson Sykes finally scores her first big assignment as a private investigator. She must find Isabel Lincoln, who disappeared along with her boyfriend’s dog, a Labradoodle named Kenny G. Gray expects solving the case will be a slam dunk, but things spiral when she discovers domestic abuse claims about the boyfriend, who seems more interested in being reunited with his pooch than finding…

[mdwatchestv]

Dirk Gently 2x01: Have You Noticed an Acceleration of Strangeness in Your Life?

It was over a year ago now that I started this blog project, and what better milestone to commemorate that achievement than season 2 of Dirk Gently! This is my first season two! To prepare for this momentous post, and to also attempt to remember what happened on season 1, I went back and read all my Dirk season one posts. What a journey we all went on together that first season, from letting Samuel Barnett into our hearts, to falling in with kitten only to lose it in the woods. If you want to relive any of that (and see some truly excellent gifs) click here. I also think my writing has come a long way since then, has it? Right? Hasn't it? You know what, maybe don't answer that.

But this post isn't a desperate plea for validation (well I mean it IS sort of) it's a post about DIRK GENTLY'S HOLISTIC DETECTIVE AGENCY SEASON TWO! Season one of this show turned out to be genuinely clever and charming to boot. It managed to balance a tricky plot-line (involving murder, time-travel, and soul-swapping) with sincerely emotional storytelling, all while juggling a cast of endless colorful characters and without sacrificing its sense of fun. That was a lot, but this show is a lot. And it's sustained successful execution of all those elements is what made last season sing. But that was then, this is now. We have a new story, new characters, and possibly new dimensions to deal with. Whether this show will be able to continue its deft balancing act remains to be seen.

We open season two in the fantasy land of "Wendimoor" (had to look that up). Your classic forest-based magical realm that is host to warriors wielding scissor-swords, and handsome rogues. Regular. This land is home to Panto Trost (had to look that up) aka ole pink hair, and his paramour Silas Dengdamor (ditto) who seems to be some sort of authority figure, perhaps a king? A duke? A lord? If the show gave this information I was not paying close enough attention to discern it. Anyway the land is in trouble and Silas charges his boo Panto with finding Dirk Gently in order to save the day. Already there are questions. Is this a parallel universe? A dream? Another dimension? Just some really enthusiastic LARP-ers? Who knows.

Moving on we pick up with Dirk (and god help me, I missed him), who at the end of last season was captured by the Blackwing project guys, now headed by Friedkin after the death of his predecessor. Friedkin is convinced that Dirk's psychic ability is literal rather than holistic, and forces him to perform a series of tests which Dirk spends his days failing. Also at Blackwing is hapless Ken, who Friedkin is sure must possess some sort of powers due to his longtime survival at the side of Bart (apparently still on the loose). With Ken in his taxi cab prison, is RAPUNZEL THE CORGI! Safe and sound, as adorable as ever. Also of note at Blackwing is an old guy in a coma who was Dirk's assistant pre-coma. Feels like a lot of expositional foreshadowing here. Maybe for a flashback? I hope so, I am particularly keen on flashbacks. During these scenes Friedkin also lets drop that there are a number of other Blackwing subjects who remain on the lamb, including a shapeshifter. This is a foreshadowing.

Last season I always thought Dustin Milligan didn't have to enough to do as Friedkin, but now that the character seems to be taking center stage, I feel like they have given him too much. If Friedkin is going to be the Big Bad this scene, I'm already over it. Dirk Gently is filled with over-the-top characters, but they are all grounded with an emotional center. Yes Bart is a psychotic killer, but she is also a lifelong loner experiencing her first foray into friendship. I don't have to tell you why you love Bart, you know already in your heart. But Friedkin has yet to develop a sympathetic, or at least understandable, core and I'm finding the aggressive stupidity act boring. The show has set a high bar for character, and for a season already introducing a bevy of new ones, this one is falling short.

And let's talk about these new characters. The Blackwing plotline is but one thread of a very complex episode one tapestry. Elsewhere we are introduced to Suzie (Amanda Walsh), an unhappily married and mothered woman with a limp who works as a receptionist at a quarry (?) or construction (?) facility (?). Unclear. Her world is rocked, as so many of our worlds have been, when John Hannah rolls up into her life as a wizard/crook/hitman/lounge singer. Hannah murders her boss, and then leaves poor Suzie to be dealt with by his gang/compatriots/clean up crew. This classic bad-guy gang unsuccessfully attempt to cast a spell on Suz, with what is decidedly a magic wand and spell book. Things look bad for our new friend Amanda Walsh as the goons decide to eschew magic in favor of reliable guns and bullets. But luckily holistic assassin Bart roles in on a bicycle and wave of blood to kill everyone. Yay! Bart uncharacteristically spares Suzie, hoping to make a new friend to replace Ken, but then spirals out as she wars with her unfamiliar desire to be merciful and seek companionship. (How did Ken and Bart get separated? Why isn't she trying to save him? Questions). Frightened, Suzie casts the same spell the thugs tried to set on her, but to greater effect. Bart vanishes. Suzie is now a witch. I dream of this day of transformation and discovery in my own life. Where did Bart go? Perhaps to scissor-sword land? We'll see.

We also have MORE new characters including Tyler Labine's easy-going sheriff who seems like he wandered out of Fargo to be with us, and his high functioning alcoholic deputy. All the finest supporting cast Canada has to offer, and we haven't even been introduced to Alan Tudyk yet. This is a lot of new characters ya'll, and I haven't even finished my check-in with the ogs. 

Hannah Marks now has a pretty punk rock undercut plus even heavier black eye make up. I'm into it. She's hanging with the only free member of the Rowdy 3, plotting to get the gang back together. Do your thing girl, and shut up math. 

Finally I saved the adventures of Todd and Farah for last, because their story seems to be the emotional plot trunk of this mighty oak of an episode. After the events of last season Todd has essentially lost everything, his job, his health, his relationship with his sister, and now the purpose given to him through his relationship with Dirk. Now he and the ever-loyal Farah are on an increasingly desperate mission to try and rescue Dirk (as well as Todd's sense of self-worth). Whether on faith or by sheer necessity, Todd is convinced that everything really is connected and that the universe will provide. And hey he did find an abandoned mansion, a wet wall, and a car in a tree, so I'd venture to say he may be on to something.

I said finally too soon, there is one more major plot thing that happened this episode. Per Friedkins (and this blogs) earlier foreshadowing, the escaped Blackwing shapeshifter does in fact make herself known. Her journey through the secret base as a piece of paper, race car, and bubble was my favorite part of the episode. That kind of knowing whimsy, when the show is able to achieve it, is what makes it so uniquely enjoyable. Anyway this frighteningly-eyeballed lass charges Dirk to "Find the boy" before disappearing them both.

The first episode set up a lot, like a lot a lot. There are at least three distinct driving 'quests': pink-hair's search for Dirk, Todd and Farah's search for Dirk, and Dirk's search for "the boy". There are a number of intersecting secondary plots (including, you guessed it, more searching), as well as a healthy peppering of fresh faces. Dirk Gently proved in the past that it is more than capable of handling unwieldy plot while servicing multiple complex characters, but I can't help feeling wary after this first outing. At this point in the series I don't need to be impressed with bells and whistles, the first season generated enough interest in the core cast of characters an episode that simply serviced them would have been satisfying enough as an opener. 

But there were episodes last season that seemed to throw out more  ideas than seemed wise, only to carefully and thoroughly pick through them in later episodes. I remain cautiously optimistic, and look forward to corgis, witches, and (dare I dream?) for another kitten. 

And of course:

CORGI WATCH:

Doing a-okay. All things considered.

XO MD

P.S. That teaser for the season gave kind of A LOT away, don't you think?

[steph-ander]

3, 21, 24, 31, 35, 56, 63, 68, 75, 85, 88, 93, 97-100

3: Neck scratches 21: I know who and I'd marry them today, this second right here 24: You can only get better if you try.31: Yes... but something completely different happened and it all just spiraled out of control there.35: I don't know what I'd do.. I know I'd be heart broken but as long as she would be happy..56: I write.. sounds dumb but it helps me get through a lot recently.63: I know where I'd like to be haha but in all reality probably in bed tbh68: "I want that to happen again, the first part at least"75: My first several "loves" cheated on me, it wasn't until my most recent relationship that I knew exactly what love was.. love isn't telling them every second of every day that you love them... love is getting up early and making breakfast with them, making sure they have what they need to get through the day... I'm still in love with her haha. Deeply so.85: I would be okay with it as long as they were safe with it and if it wasn't you know like meth or heroin :") (ya gotta share too)88: Fuck no who made this question GD?93: I'm all out in the open, I really don't have any secrets, besides those from my family :")97: Indeed I do, every night. Though I wish I didn't, my bed is so heckin large.98: I do have someone that makes me happy, she puts a smile on my face every single day, no matter if times are tough. She never fails to bring light into my life, even in the darkest of times.99: The first time I saw her you better believe I did.100: I pinky promised Suz that I would take her on a big trip, all expenses paid. She wouldn't pay a dime. I intend to keep it too.

[ackermans-freedom-inc]

Suz… ahdhjdhdjsh all of it is sending me, the mutual pining is the icing on top

Head empty, just the thoughts of them missing subtle pining looks in each other’s direction. The way Levi would sometimes stand outside your door, raising his hand to knock, but pausing as he tries to think of a good enough excuse to spend more time with you. It always ends with him turning away, pushing hands into his pockets whilst vowing next time, he’ll finally knock. (Lmao imagine opening the door and he’s just standing there🧍‍♂️)

Or the way he silently loves being the first one to see you in the morning. OR the way someone you bring home at night, gets the coldest treatment from him the following morning. And anytime they tell this to you, all you could do is laugh because that wouldn’t make sense… Why would Levi dislike anyone who’s in your bed at night?

Sorcha I finally got the brain cells to reply to this.

Pining roommate Levi who stands by your door, his hand ready to knock, retracting his hand and quickly shuffling away when he hears sounds from your room.

Roommate!Levi who makes dinner whenever he has the chance, and always makes way too much as an excuse to get you to sit and eat with him, to be able to watch you close your eyes and groan as you mumble praises at his food.

Roommate!Levi who is thankful you let him shower first because the thought of running into you, steam spiralling as dewdrops linger from the tendrils of your hair that escape the towel, and the gorgeous way you smell - goddamit did you use his body wash again- like you were his makes him lose his mind.

Roommate!Levi who thinks it has to be a coincidence when he finds you napping on the couch whenever he’s home late, television illuminating your features, colours dancing off your lashes, reflecting off your pouted lips as you groan, subconsciously feeling his gaze as you shifted, kicking off the blanket and revealing your body wrapped up in a hoodie. His hoodie.

Roommate!Levi who came back early from a visit home one weekend, to see an extra pair of shoes. Mens shoes by the door. He slept with a pillow over his head that night because how could he bear to hear the sounds that came from your room? The sounds of another man making you keen and groan, to hear your breathless sighs through the walls and the low gravelly grunts that should have been his echoing through the stupid air vents.

Roommate!Levi who makes you coffee in the morning, steely eyed gaze freezing your friend in his steps. His hasty wave dismissed with a glare, before his voice noticeably softened as he spoke to you, asking how many pieces of bacon you wanted, and how you liked your eggs.

Roommate!Levi who didn’t speak to you for the next week after that incident, coldly dismissing you, staying out late, ignoring your texts inviting him to dinner because you made his favourite.

Roommate!Levi who gets angrier and angrier with each of your efforts to repair the relationship. It all came to a head one night, when he creeps out of his room to get yet another glass of water, the green glow of the kitchen clock a horrible reminder of his sleeplessness. That is, until the subject of his insomnia appears, rubbing sleep from your eyes, midyawn. Your legs are deliciously bare, hair an adorable mess, the shirt you had on (god it was also one of his) lopsided and revealing a tantalizing sliver of collarbone. He realizes that night that you were it for him. He would never be able to get over you.

Roommate!Levi who sits you down after that night. Who reminds you that lease review was coming up, and that he would be moving on from the place, that you were free to look for another roommate. Who refuses to meet your teary eyes as you beg and plead with him to tell you what you did wrong, was it the empty mugs in your room? Was it the way you borrowed his hoodies? Was it the way you left your hair around the house?

Roommate!Levi who shakes his head at everything you mention, because how could he hate those things about you? How could he explain how it kills him when you sweep home, lingering cologne on your scarf hiding the red marks on your neck. How could he explain how everytime you wear his clothes he keeps them for days, relishing in the way you scent mixes with his own along the collar. How could he explain that he loves you so much that it physically hurts to see you with anyone else.

Roommate!Levi who is roommate no longer, who moved out to a single bedroom that isn’t quite the same without your presence. Who holds back a groan when one day, he hears a knock at the door, wrenching it open ready to give the person a piece of his mind for disturbing his night when all of a sudden, you’re in his arms, pressing your frost-kissed nose into his neck, fingertips gripping him tight, so tight.

Roommate!Levi who, between the hiccups is able to discern how much you missed him, how nothing was the same after he left. How you’d give anything to have him back again. Between your blubbering of please, and I’m sorry he could’ve swore he caught the whisper of I love you.