#the fact that it’s pom season is the only thing keeping me going in this winter

[blackbirdsinatrenchcoat]

cutting pomegranates is so kinda wild. me hands dripping. my teeth are stained red with the blood of the thing i killed to eat. there is no me there is no you there is only a pile of torn flesh and the insatiable hinger for more. my clothes and face are spattered with pink. i look like a danganronpa character.

[venusiangguk]

may we see the fight tae oc scene pls pls please!!! u can delete later🤔🤔🤔🤔😳😳😳😳 i’m really curious. i mean ofc u don’t have to. still 😧🙃

idealizations concerning real life relations: deleted scene

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / icrlr!couple

>>genre: fwb, angst, rated PG

>>word count: 2.5k

>>warnings: alcohol, implied smut

>>notes: this is a deleted scene from icrlr, that i omitted simply because of the length of the final fic!! feel free to skip or ignore, it doesn't change anything, but since u guys are curious about it, i'll post it as a lil ty for helping me hit that milestone <3 it takes place after the tattoo party scene, and before the lecture scene.

this does NOT provide an alternative ending.

>>summary: taehyung tries to make you see things for what they really are, but it's hard to see through the rose colored glasses.

Winter break has been long awaited and it is finally, finally here. The snow has coated the ground thick, making the town look like a winter wonderland. The air is sharp and cold but not to a miserable extent. Just chilly enough to bundle up, to hold a hand a little tighter and soak up their warmth.

Your favorite season is fall, but the later months are a close second. You love seeing the way everyone’s faces get red when snow flurries come down to kiss their nose and cheeks. Love the way pom poms bounce atop little hats as children play and have snowball fights. Winter is surprisingly one of the warmest, sweetest times of the year. Like the hot coco Jeongguk has been swapping your regular macchiato with lately.

There’s a greatly anticipated party tonight- a mashup of Taehyung’s birthday and New Year’s Eve. Anticipated for the simple fact that said birthday boy has steadily been ignoring you for weeks, and tonight was a night where he couldn’t evade your attempts of reconciliation. He hasn’t returned a single call or even sent a text back. You can’t even be mad at him really, you know it’s justified. You know you fucked up. The coffee date you had with Yoongi last week let you know what you did.

Over an iced coffee, you learned that you had unintentionally skipped out on your best friend's Winter Showcase. The important one that he mentioned multiple times. The one you promised to attend no matter what.

It wasn’t on purpose; you wanted to go, to support him. But you just got caught up. In life, in school, in Jeongguk. It happens.

When Yoongi asked you why you had missed it, when he told you how hurt Taehyung was by your absence, your heart dropped, sank deep within your chest as your mouth fell open before closing, a small pursed frown on your lips. You didn’t have a good excuse. You went to get tattoos with Jeongguk and then to a party where you fucked him, and then home after that? You were too tired to make it? You just simply forgot? Those excuses weren’t good enough for you and you knew they wouldn’t be good enough for Taehyung.

Whereas Yoongi was okay with distance, long periods in between hanging out and talking, Taehyung wasn’t. He was the kind of friend that needed support, reassurance that you cared. He liked quality time and hangs outs that were planned ahead so he could look forward to them. He was looking forward to you being at his showcase.

The party is packed, even more so than usual. Students, drop-outs, alumni, and randoms alike, all congregate to bring in the new year, to celebrate the end of finals, and a certain art majors birthday. Bodies are on bodies, music is loud and deafening. Cups, bottles, and small baggies litter the floor and the smell of weed is nauseating.

Jeongguk’s hand in yours is sweet, though. Enough to ebb the distaste in your mouth as you watch the stereotypical disaster that is a college party.

“I’m going to go find the drinks, okay?” you lie, squeezing Jeongguk’s hand lightly.

He squeezes back, kisses the side of your head as he says, “Bring me one back too?”

You nod, and slip out of his view. Scanning the crowd until you see a familiar face.

Jimin is laughing, red cup in his hand, eyes curled and happy. He’s sitting on the arm of a couch, legs swinging as he laughs with a group of people. He takes a drink from his cup and let’s his eyes roam the room like he’s looking for someone.

The way his face changes when he sees you approaching is like a punch in the gut. It goes from happy, and carefree to stony- only a small, irritated, close-lipped smile on his face. Eyes harsh and cold, no longer holding the mirth they were just seconds ago. He says nothing when you step in front of him, he just looks you over like he’s bored and waiting for you to get on with it so he can be done with it.

You shift on your feet under his scrutiny. “Where’s Tae?” you ask.

Jimin narrows his eyes at you and tilts his head. “Now you want to know where he is? Haven’t been concerned with his whereabouts for months. Definitely weren’t worried about it last week.”

You wince but carry on swiftly. “Listen, I know I fucked up. I’m here to apologize.” You look at him expectantly, but he holds his ground. When he doesn’t falter, you resort to begging, “Please, Jimin. He’s my best friend… I miss him.”

You must look pitiful, because Jimin’s indifferent facade fades, and he clicks his tongue like he’s annoyed at himself for giving into you. “He’s getting us drinks in the kitchen.”

A smile takes over your face as you rush out a ‘thank you’, quickly turning on your heel to head in the opposite direction, before Jimin calls after you.

“Yeah?” you ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

“If he’s your best friend, maybe treat him like it, yeah?”

You continue to the kitchen without replying, and you can’t help the little simmer of annoyance that bubbles in your chest. Taehyung has been your best friend for years. And even though Jimin had a point, who was he to tell you anything about yours and Taehyung’s friendship?

Before the thought can fester, however, you see the boy you came looking for, two bottles of vodka in his hand like he’s trying to decide which to use. You see the little party hat atop his shaggy hair before anything else and your heart aches a little. You really did miss him. He lets out a small annoyed sound, and knowing him, he’s probably trying to figure out which has the highest alcohol percentage. You come up next to him, and say his name gently. He jumps, but when he realizes it’s you, the ghost of a smile curls on his lips like he’s happy to see you.

Until it’s replaced with resentment just as quickly. His sharp eyes squint at you before turning back to the bottles in his hands, scowl still in place.

“So you decided you could pencil me in between getting your heart toyed with and your back blown out?” He gives you a side glance and sees how your jaw drops in surprise. He carries on, unbothered. “Or did this just work out because it coincides with New Year’s and because he was invited? Only because he’s Jimin’s friend might I add.”

“Tae-” you try, doing your best to keep the hurt whine out of your tone.

“Save it, __. I don’t want to hear the excuses you have. Just-” he looks at you again, and you think that maybe he softens when he sees your crestfallen features. He sighs like he’s tired. “Just leave me alone. Just for a bit, okay? I’ll get over it eventually,” he finishes, finally deciding on the vodka he wants.

You know his request isn't unreasonable. But it’s already been so long that the distance in your friendship has been eating away at it, that you’re scared ‘eventually’ might take too long and by the time he comes around, there won’t be much of a friendship left. That the damage done, will be irreparable.

“Tae… It’s already been months, can’t we-”

Like night and day, the softness that you were able to pull out of him is immediately replaced with that resentment and anger you were met with when you first stepped into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” he seethes, strong brows furrowed. “And whose fault is that?”

His words are sharp and the sting from them makes you take a step back. That is, until you feel anger of your own creep up your throat like venom. “You’re one to talk, Taehyung. You could have reached out to me, too. You’re no better than me when you’re in a relationship.”

He groans, gives an exasperated laugh before shrugging. “You know what? Maybe I am just as bad as you, but at least I’m actually in a relationship,” he spits, “You’re just fucking someone that doesn’t give a fuck about you.”

You know he’s hurt because of the distance. That he doesn’t intend to be so mean. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less, and it doesn’t stop the angry tears from pooling in your eyes.

And although you’re angry, almost shaking with rage at the feeling of being cornered and blamed, your heart aches at hearing his words.

Jimin, who started seeing Taehyung after you started seeing Jeongguk, had already made your friend official. Had given him the title, the commitment, the relationship that you had been patiently and understandingly waiting for with Jeongguk. The bitterness that bleeds into your heart makes you feel gross and ugly.

You know what they say; that labels are superficial and don’t mean that much. But when you don’t have them? It makes you wonder. If a label really isn’t that important, like everyone says, why is Jeongguk so reluctant to give one to you?

“Jimin’s your boyfriend?” you whisper.

Taehyung gives you a short nod. “Month and half ago. You would’ve known if you got your head out of Jeongguk’s ass.”

Almost like he was summoned, the topic of debate waltz into the room, coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He nuzzles into your neck.

It’s instinctual now, the way your body responds to him. The way you melt into his chest like second-nature, how your hands settle over his like they are keeping them in place. How immediately in his presence you feel calmer; the panicky, hurt feeling you were experiencing moments ago vanishing as if it were just a fleeting thought and not something that’s always in the back of your head.

Not in a possessive, ‘I need him to be mine’ kind of way, though.

More like, ‘Why won’t he be mine?’

“Hi,” he murmurs into your neck.

“Hi, baby,” you respond softly, out of habit. The room shirks around you whenever he’s near. Makes you feel like you’re in your own bubble with him.

Jeongguk’s about to reply, ask where the drinks are, but then he hears an annoyed scoff sound in front of you both. Jeongguk bristles as he looks up and sees Taehyung taking a big swig from his cup.

“Uh- am I interrupting? Should I go?” he asks hesitantly, looking between you and your friend.

“No-” you say at the same time that Taehyung says, “Yes.”

You cringe, and turn in Jeongguk’s arms, hands resting on his chest. “Just give me a couple more minutes okay? I’ll bring the drinks.”

Jeongguk searches your eyes, before looking at Taehyung one last time before giving you a stern nod and a quick kiss.

You turn back to Taehyung, ready to apologize for Jeongguk’s interruption, when he talks over you.

“You’re pathetic,” he starts, and you roll your eyes with an irritated sigh before he continues, “but I know you love him. And that you can’t help it,” he shrugs. “But as your friend, I have to tell you that it’s not going to end well. You probably don’t even need me to tell you that. You probably already know and are choosing to ignore it for the sake of the delusions you’ve made up in your ‘pretty little head’.”

You pout at him quoting you, and your brows furrow. “He cares about me. And he’s Jimin’s best friend. He’s a good person, you don’t even know him,” you argue defensively. Though you know your arguments make little sense and are flimsy at best.

Taehyung frowns. Pauses like he’s thinking.

“I didn’t say he was a bad person, and maybe he does care about you in his own messed up way. But he doesn’t care about you in the way that you want him to.” His lips are still down turned when he speaks again.

“And the difference between him with you and him with Jimin is astronomical; it shouldn’t even be a comparison, but I will humor you,” he rubs a hand up and down his face like he’s tired. “The dynamic is completely different, for obvious reasons. For one, Jimin is a safe relationship. You are not. Jimin isn’t in love with him, Jimin isn’t sucking his dick, and Jimin doesn’t want things from Jeongguk that Jeongguk cannot give, or does not want to give,” he says with a raised brow as he takes a sip of his drink.

It seems that the anger has died down some between you both, a semi-civil conversation finally being had. You wrinkle your brows in confusion at him. “What are you talking about?”

He rolls his eyes. “Cmon __. Why do you think he hasn’t made you his girlfriend? Why do you think he literally has not been in a serious relationship since high school? Why do you think he never agrees to anything more than 2 months out?” He waits for you to answer but you just purse your lips stubbornly. “He’s scared. Dare I say terrified of commitment, and that’s exactly what you want from him right?”

You stay headstrong and quiet for a moment longer, ignoring his question in favor of asking one of your own when you finally do speak up. “If I’m so scary, why hasn’t he left?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Fuck if I know? Maybe he does care about you like you say he does. I don’t think so, but hey,” He raises his hands in mock surrender, like he is throwing in the figurative towel. “Maybe you’re right and maybe I‘m wrong. Or maybe there’s some fucked up codependency fermenting between you both when you copulate. I genuinely have no clue, and frankly, I don’t care to find out. Don’t text me until you come to your senses. And don’t get mad when I tell you ‘I told you so’.”

And with that, he turns and leaves you to make your own drinks. You hope the smile you give Jeongguk when you find him is believable.

That night when you go back to his place, you voice your concerns to him in between sweet, heated kisses that taste like hot cider. You tell him hesitantly how Taehyung voiced his concerns about Jeongguk not caring about you and Jeongguk got a little irritated, a little miffed as he unlatched his lips from your neck. He asked what Taehyung knew, how he even came to that conclusion when he’s not around you both.

He assured you with gentle touches and tender words that of course he cares about you. He reminded you that he always makes time for you, he always answers your calls and your texts, he takes you out every now and then, too. He asks you what you think and when you contemplate your answer, going over what he said, you can’t really argue with him. Even if an uneasy, dismal feeling settles in the pit of your tummy.

~~~

hellooo!! again, this is just a scene and part of the plot that i chose not to use because i felt like the fic was already so long. i wish that i had ended up including it tho, so i hope you enjoyed even though its nothing special <3 feel free to do the things if you liked it: like, comment, reblog, send an ask~~ love u, ty again for helping me reach that milestone <3

[chiwhorei]

team spirit

pairing: k. sakusa x fem!reader x a. miya

genre: college!au, smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: 2.6k

warnings: threesome, semi-public sex, daddy kink, spitting, a spank, a tiny bit of choking, tit-fucking, degradation, a little coercion, curruption, gaslighting, voyeurism, a subtle age gap (freshman vs. senior in college), cum play, cum eating. nothing too crazy and everything is consensual- it’s just pretty dirty lmao

a/n: in a radical act of self care i have given up on kinktober as it was killing all love that i had for writing. i present to you a piece written solely because it made me h-word. thank you to the love of my life @hqbbg for beta reading, you have my soul and share my desire to be mask-man’s little bitch.

hymn: smells like teen spirit by: nirvana

“Didn’t I tell ya’, princess?” Atsumu’s voice is low and sharp against the shell of your ear as he brushes away a rogue strand of hair from where it fell from your high-pony. The action gentle, the tone unmistakingly galled. “I told ya to behave, but ya’ never want to listen to me.”

The grip he has on you is bruising, fingers nestled on your hips, large hands scrunching your pleated cheer skirt and exposing you to the almost empty locker room. Your boyfriend’s hard-on is distinct against his shorts, pressing against your bare cunt. Your hips buck desperately in his hold, but any fight is useless. There’s no way Atsumu will give you more than just minimal friction; only enough to make you dizzy and malleable in his capture.

Atsumu isn’t oblivious. He’s fully aware of how sweet you look every week, cheering on the sidelines of his games, donning his jersey number in a heart on the apple of your cheek. Having the prettiest little member of your college’s cheer squad in his bed every night never fails to fill him with an almost evil pride. Ever since the beginning of the season, your first year in college, Atsumu has been on you. The moment he first saw you, skin sheened with a layer of sweat and workout shorts riding up high enough to see the angelic curve of your ass cheeks, you were his. He totes a fine line, dancing between cockiness at his prize girlfriend when you’re hit on or ogled, and egregious rage.

Game-night started the same as any other: Astumu sneaking away before warm-ups to kabedon you against the wall when you walked out of the girls locker room. You always flush red-hot, no matter how many times he traps you, fiddling with the pom-poms in your hold. He grabs them from you, tossing them without care onto the ground to pull you tightly against his hard chest, your wrist pinned against the front of your uniform top in one of his hands. The rest of your squad walks by the two of you without much thought; the scene unfolding is rehearsed at this point. It seems like the whole student-body ignores the two of you.

“You act more like a horny teenager than a senior in college, Atsumu.” You puff your cheeks out and glare at him from the fringe of your perfectly curled eyelashes. The fake-blond towering above you snorts at your defiance.

“Well, you act more like an old prude than a freshman in college, princess.” His lips dip lower to fan over yours, “And my name ain’t Atsumu.”

Your knees feel weak trapped in his grip, his presence a strange mix of comfort and distress. You’re welcomed home into the den of a lion. You gulp down a painful air bubble trapped in your throat and mumble an apology.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

It seems to please the arrogant setter, earning you a chirpy laugh as he twirls a piece of your hair in his finger. You hate when Atsumu seems upset with you, so relief washes over you at the light gesture. He releases his hold on your wrists and pulls you into a sloppy kiss. You melt into the feeling of his lips, his hands rubbing up and down your arms lazily, causing your body to slack against him. Atsumu’s attention always renders you compliant (often against better judgement).

“I’ve gotta go, but make sure I hear ya’ cheering out there for me, sweetheart,” he says after letting go of your lips with one last nip. So begins the quick restoration of your uniform from where it was misplaced by setter fingers. After you’ve collected yourself under the watchful eye of your senior, you bend at the waist to pick up the stray poms and feel the swift union of Atsumu’s hand against your ass. You scoff at his childishness, even though you had expected it. Game nights are always the same.

The same round of cat and mouse, the same suffocating sexual tension and embarrassing public display.

The only anomaly tonight is the lecherous stare of your boyfriend's teammate on your folded body. A stare that shouldn’t belong to the curly haired man fixes onto you and the view of your tight pair of spandex has turned him into stone.

Pride is a cardinal sin, and so is lust.

“Do ya’ like what ya’ see, Omi? She’s a pretty little thing ain’t she?” Your eyes snap up to meet the gaze of the man in front of your disheveled form. Sakusa’s eyes are dark and cold; his expression reads indifference, but the hard cock in his shorts is clearly seen. He’s frozen in place a few feet in front of the bench you’re displayed on. Your crisp white sneakers are on either side of Atsumu’s built thighs, knees bent and held in place by the man under you. Your uniform top and bra have been pushed up unceremoniously, freeing your tits to bounce slightly with every squirm. Sakusa watches every jiggle of soft, supple skin in front of him. The tent in his boxers is becoming painful with every heave. Both hands are pressed stiffly to his sides, left hand clutching your white, cotton panties. The fabric is damp, sticking slightly against his fingers and making him cringe. Disgusting.

Atsumu’s hand wanders down to spread the puffy lips of your pussy, long middle finger proading against your tight hole. Atsumu growls at the feeling of your arousal, not wasting any time sticking a digit into you with practiced movements. You whimper at the intrusion, legs feeling weak and shaky from their strained position as Atsumu adds a second finger with ease. He always knows exactly how to work you over, rendering you at a loss for words with his prodding against the spongy anterior of your pussy.

“Y/n is always such a little mess on her daddy’s fingers.” His middle and pointer finger are pulled out with a resounding pop and his palm lands a harsh pat against your clit. “Do you like putting on a show for Sakusa-san? He seems to fancy ya’, doesn't he?” You’re asked a question but can only yelp in response as Atsumu’s fingers are shoved back into you, pumping with fervor.

The tall man in front of you is only partially familiar; aside from volleyball games and visiting your boyfriend at practice, you’ve only seen Sakusa at the occasional party or team dinner. He’s never seemed too keen on getting to know you before, but now he’s palming himself at the sight of your most intimate angles completely open for his viewing pleasure. Sakusa’s slightly flushed cheeks and boring stare causes your cunt to clench around Atsumu’s fingers. Ever the painfully observant man, neither the tightening muscles nor the reason behind it is lost on the blond.

“Ya’ like being watched, that’s why yer sloppy pussy’s extra wet tonight, huh?” You shake your head frantically, not wanting to admit that the heat rising in your stomach is due to your voyeur’s deep brown eyes. Atsumu is a prideful man, some would say too much so, a fact he’ll have to atone for later. One thing he isn’t? Greedy.

“Omi-omi~” The singing of the stupid nickname seems to snap Sakusa out of his stupor as he flicks his eyes to meet Atsumu’s. “Don’t be shy, c’mere.” Sakusa is still working long strokes over his confined cock, stepping forward to further invade your personal space. Atsumu’s chin rests against your shoulder, face amused and casual, disconnected from what his hands are holding.

All you can do is look up at the looming figure, black hair falling in front of his face and mouth set in a harsh line. You’re eye level with the bulge in his shorts now, so close you can almost feel the fabric against your lips. Every sense is overwhelmed, crowded in the abandoned locker room with your boyfriend working you open in front of his teammate. Sakusa reaches out and runs his finger over the uniform top that sits wrinkled up above your breasts. His calloused pad runs over the article in a moment of contemplation, before pinching your hardened nipple. A surprised yelp falls from your lips along with the already tumbling whines.

Distracted by your new company, Atsumu’s cock releasing from his shorts goes unnoticed. With the dark, inky stare keeping you hostage, you only realize his fingers are being replaced when the hardened tip is pressing into you. A pathetic squeal rips through your throat at the breach. No matter how many times Atsumu stretches you out on his fat cock, it burns every time.

“I think ya’ should help Sakusa-san out, princess.” Another few inches disappear, your shaky balance is corrected with one of Atsumu’s hands wrapping around your neck, “Since it’s yer dirty little body that’s got ‘em all hard.”

The intonation wracks you with guilt, looking up at Sakusa with bleary, begging eyes. You’re not sure what exactly you’re begging for.

There’s no restraint left in Sakusa, having used most of it up when your panties were ripped off and tossed to him with a cheeky wink from his setter. He shoves said garment into his pocket before pushing his shorts and boxers down enough for his cock to spring free. Your eyes roll slightly at the sight in front of you, impressive in length and pleasantly veiny. Right under his head, you see two freckles, noting they almost mimic the ones right above his eyebrow.

Atsumu’s cock is snugly inside you, buried to the hilt, and you're pulled back into his broad chest by the grip on your throat. Sakusa holds himself at the base, stroking upwards and swirling his thumb against the precum collecting at his tip. He leans over you, slapping his head against your tits experimentally. The reaction Sakusa gets seems to be the one he was seeking, as your whispered cries thump to the same beat of his length against your skin.

“Such a nasty girl. You always look so sweet and innocent cheering for us. Does he fuck you like this after every game?” Sakusa has found his voice, regarding you coolly. Tears prick at your eyes, any retort caught behind your teeth as you stare back dumbly.

“Answer ‘em princess,” Atsumu lifts you up slightly to slam you back down onto his heavy cock; the sound is squelching in the stale air around you, “tell ‘em how you cream on Daddy’s cock after everyone leaves.”

“I- please, I-” You’re cut off by your own mewl when a string of saliva breaches Sakusa’s lips and falls towards your chest, watching as it ascends onto the valley between your tits. As it rolls down your sweat-sheened skin, the black-haired man rubs his weeping cock down the map his spit makes. Your brain is fuzzy at the attention of both men, warming your boyfriend's cock as his teammate grinds himself on your naked chest.

Sakusa grabs your wrists, causing your thighs to wobble weakly from their squatted position, and presses your palms to hold your breasts against his shaft. The pressure has Sakusa’s head falling back as soft, warm skin welcoming his shallow thrusts.

“Such a complaint little pet you have, Miya.” His hand brushes against your cheek and trails downwards to find purchase on your chin. “Dirty little girl,” his voice coos you, “Open wide.”

Your mouth falls at his order, fussing weakly at the nickname. Another sharp putt meets your ears and his warm spit hits the fattest plane of your tongue. Tears escape at the sides of your eyes with the overwhelming presence. Atsumu begins a slow assault on your aching pussy, removing the hand on your throat to pull your hips against his lap. The rhythm is a salacious duet with the cock nestled between your tits and has you clenching even tighter.

“Ya’ better not swallow Omi’s spit until I say so, princess. Keep that wicked tongue out for him to paint.” You do as you're told, as always, tongue lolled out with a pant. At your passivity, Atsumu rewards you with tight circles to your throbbing clit. His cheek presses against your own, peering over to watch his friend’s cock against your chest with wonder. Such a distinct beauty is found in the ruined body on top of him. As much as Atsumu appreciates the sweet, loving moments that he shares with you, the sight of your precious body bent to his will makes his dick twitch acutely. It’s sick how much he enjoys seeing how far he can push you-

“I’m going to cum on your girlfriend's sweet face, Miya. Christ, it’s disgusting how much she seems to want it.”

However, your enjoyment in your own depravity and humiliation is much more sickening.

Atsumu’s pace picks up, skin slapping against your sore pussy with new resolve. He wants to see you break into pieces right on the locker room bench. Your vision is spotting at the pressure on your clit, mixing with the dulled sting of being split open on the blond setter's thick cock. All you can do is produce a garbled squeal from around your dangling tongue. Sakusa pulls his cock from your chest, pumping his hand feverishly against the soft skin. The sight is almost unbelievable: a man who barely allows his teammates a high-five has your hair wrapped around his other fist. Your head is yanked back, eyes entrapped by Sakusa’s. Atsumu’s fingers are unrelenting against the bundle of nerves that now feels more like a ticking time-bomb.

“C’mon princess, don’t hold back on us. I wanna see ya’ cum right in front of Omi. Show’em how much team spirit ya’ got.” Atsumu’s teeth bite down onto your neck, angling his tip to press against that deepest spot inside of you. The fraying cord in your stomach is pulled taught, snapping at the feeling of Sakusa’s hot cum against your face, thick spurts landing on your cheer uniform and splattering against your already marred tongue.

Your own orgasm tears through you, burning deeply through every vein in your body. It’s sinful how your body reacts to the messy splotching of a stranger's cum against you, thrown head-first into release at the ministrations of the men on either side of you. Your tight rings of muscles pulsate around Atsumu’s cock, coaxing his own orgasm out to meet your silky insides. There’s nothing better in the world, Atsumu thinks to himself, than fucking his hot cum into your sweet, submissive body.

As the pair of volleyball players steady their own breathing, another menacing laugh escapes your boyfriend’s mouth. He peers over the mess in front of him, strings of cum drawing random patterns against your chest and cheeks. He turns your face towards him and smiles, finding that you did exactly as he asked. Your mouth wide, tongue still stuck out and awaiting further instruction. Such a perfect girl you are, letting Atsumu’s most debased fantasies play out on your innocent little body. Your job is to motivate his team after all, and there’s no better way to boost comradery after a win than to celebrate the best way he knows how.

“Team spirit, huh?” Sakusa tucks himself back into his shorts, leaning in to swipe his cum against your lips as a parting gift. You watch him with glassy eyes and suck on the digit when pressed against your tongue.

“That’s for sure.”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[reidgraygubler]

sunflowers, daisies, lilacs, dahlias (spencer reid/reader)

Title: sunflowers, daisies, lilacs, dahlias

Requested: yes, was a request someone sent to @imagining-in-the-margins​, but I took it of her hands :) (So i get this is sorta hard to do but i was wondering if you could write a spencer x nonbinary (gender-neutral pronouns) reader where reader isn’t out to the team yet but spencer finds out somehow and the reader is afraid he’ll reject them but instead he confesses his feelings and just starts info dumping about third genders in other cultures and the roots of binary america, etc. just like fluffy and accepting. once again, i get it if you don’t want to/can’t but that would be awesome)

Couple: spencer reid/non-binary!reader (they/them pronouns)

Category: fluff

Content Warning: swearing (if any), misgendering, usual criminal minds case work stuff, bi!spencer, lgbt+ history lesson, platonic cuddling (or is it?), kissing (not platonic), Doctor Who season 12 spoilers (weird, I know), afab!reader

Word Count: 4,110

Summary: reader comes out as non-binary to their best friend, Spencer, after they notice he changes the pronouns he uses to talk about them and after the team misgenders them.

A/N: pom (aka @imagining-in-the-margins​) posted this in her discord and said if someone had any ideas for this, we could have it. and i loved the request so i took it off her hands. im also non-binary and only out to a few friends, so this piece is dear to my heart. also, i wrote reader as afab, since that’s also me, but also the request says that reader isn’t out to the team yet, and i had to give reader a gender. so im sorry about that. that’s where the mis-gendering comes in. spencer’s nickname for reader is bumblebee when they’re friends, but once they start dating it’s honeybee… bc reader is…  enbee… thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

It was a new day at work. A new day, a new me… Kinda, not really. It’s still old me. I’m just trying to figure out the new me. I think that makes sense. It makes sense to me, so that’s all that matters, I think.

Maybe today was the day I came out to the team as Non-Binary. That’d probably help my feeling of garbage. Not even my own family knew about my little secret. So that’s been something I’ve seriously been thinking about, telling everyone that I was Non-binary and preferred they/them pronouns. 

I kept my head low as I stepped off the elevator and onto the floor of the BAU. The good news is, people weren’t rushing around like I was partly expecting them to be. The bad news is, when I got to my desk, there was a stack of files, waiting to be looked over. And the unfortunate part was, I wouldn’t get to get through half of them, because something told me there was a current case we had to go on. 

That something being Emily Prentiss standing outside her office, looking for everyone on the team. I looked up at her with a pout as she nodded towards the conference room. I looked back at the stack of files before grabbing my go bag and going up to the conference room.

Everyone was already there, waiting for me. Although, I was usually late, in a sensible fashion. So I quickly took my seat beside Spencer and remained quiet as Penelope and Emily told us about the case.

{***}{***}{***}

“We can go to the most recent victim’s house, interview the siblings,” Spencer spoke up as we both walked up to Emily. I looked up at him and nodded, silently agreeing that I could go with. It’s not like I had anything better to do anyways. Tara and Luke were at the newest crime scene. David and Matt were with the ME. And Emily was about to go interrogate the suspect. So, going with Spencer would give me something to do. 

“She’ll have to conduct the interview,” Emily looked up from the file she was reading and right at me. I looked down, away from anyone who was possibly looking at me. Getting mis-gendered was something I was used to, by now anyways. But, for some reason, this time it really bothered me. Emily doesn’t know, it’s fine. It’s mostly my fault anyways. And, I guess it bothered Spencer too, because the expression on his face shifted from normal to… annoyed.

“Of course, they can do the interview. They’re the most like the victim,” Spencer looked at Emily before looking back at me. I looked at him and smiled softly. It was more of a nervous smile than anything else. A change, and correction, in pronoun… I hadn’t exactly told anyone that I preferred different pronouns, I had honestly gotten used to the unfortunate misgendering.

“I can do it, I’m perfectly capable of it,” I smiled at Spencer then over at Emily. So much for a change.

“Then that’s settled, she’ll do it,” Emily looked up at Spencer and smiled before allowing us to leave. I dropped my shoulders as I glanced at Spencer, who was glaring daggers at Emily. He wasn’t usually one to glare at his superiors, especially Emily. 

“We should get going, don’t you think,” I whispered as I looked up at Spencer. He finally looked down at me and nodded. “And, you can do the interview, if you want. I get that I’m a lot like the victim’s sister. But, you do interviews better than me,” I laughed and shook my head. 

“We can do it together. That’s the only way you can get better at interviewing,” he returned the laughter before following beside me. 

“That’s true,” I smiled at him. 

{***}{***}{***}

“I know we always do this, but thanks for letting me stay the night after hard cases,” I looked over at Spencer as he got in his car. I readjusted the grip on my bag as I looked away from Spencer.

“Of course, sleeping over at someone’s house after a case makes it easier to relax, especially after hard cases,” he looked over at me with a smile, “We can order Chinese food if you want,”  he added as he looked back at the road.  

“Yeah, I think I’d like that,” I nodded with a smile. Sometime between solving the last case, and the jet landing I gained the courage to bring up what happened before the interview. You know, the whole they/them thing… With Spencer. I still don’t know how he knew to change my pronouns. 

He was talking about something, it sounded like an episode of Doctor Who.  I sort of felt bad about that too, because I was hardly listening. I was one of the only few people who actually watched Doctor Who with him, and thoroughly enjoyed his commentary. 

“And then the Doctor, who, have I mentioned is a woman now, is in fact the Timeless Child. Did you know that?” He glanced at me as he went on. Again, I felt bad because I wasn’t totally paying attention. “Of course you knew that, we watched the episode together,” he continued to ramble about the episode.

“Spencer,” I spoke, my voice just loud enough for him to hear.

“Mhm, what?” he glanced over at me for a quick second. I looked at him, my mouth opening and closing a few times before actually saying what I was thinking. Which was...

“How did you know?” I asked, my voice a bit of a whisper. I was a little bit scared. How did he know? Sure, Spencer knows everything. But I’m not exactly… Out to the team, let alone Spencer. I don’t think I told him. 

“How did I know what, Bumblebee?” Spencer glanced over at me for a brief second. I sighed deeply as I looked over at him. 

“You used 'they'… When you and Emily were talking about me and the interrogation… You used 'they' and 'them' when you talked about me… How’d you know? I haven’t told anyone…” I whispered as I looked over at him. He stayed silent for a long time. I wasn’t too sure what he was thinking, but it made me very nervous. 

“I saw you at the library with a book about gender/sexuality history and science… And I saw you looking at a non-binary/gender non-conforming forum the other day. So, I connected the dots,” Spencer looked over at me as he pulled to a stop at the red light. I swallowed roughly as I looked at him. “I didn’t mean to off-”

“You didn’t offend me, Spence,” I whispered and shook my head before dropping my gaze from him. My fingers fiddled with the seatbelt across my lap. I could feel my heart going a million miles an hour, and no matter how hard I tried to calm it… nothing worked. “I just… I haven’t used the words out loud before… I’ve haven't told anyone… I mean, I’ve just figured it out myself,” I shrugged again. I glanced at him as he started going again. “I’ve always known I didn’t really identify as… Ya know… And I guess just recently I finally put a name to it,” I sighed as I pressed my head into the headrest. Spencer glanced at me, again. He was obviously trying to keep his eyes on the road, but he was very concerned about our conversation.

“You’ve never said it out loud? Or told anyone?” He asked, clarifying what I had just said. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Yeah, I just…” I stopped, letting my words trail off. My thoughts ran wild. If I just said that I was non-binary, it’d make my life easier, I’d be so much happier. So, why haven’t I just come out and said it? “So, say it now. It’s just me,” Spencer whispered as he looked over at me for the briefest second. My heart stopped with his words, and suddenly my mind was quiet. “No one else to hear."

“What?” I spoke, my voice a breathless whisper. I looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. 

“Only if you want to. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.” Spencer’s voice was soft as he spoke. I looked over at him, feeling my stomach do an anxious flip.

“What if it changes the way you think about me?” I asked, feeling my throat tighten up around the words. Out of all of the friends that I had, Spencer was the only one I didn’t want to lose. In a weird way, I felt like he understood me. Like we were both the outcasts of the team, for our different reasons. 

“Why would that change the way I think of you?” Spencer looked up at me and I shrugged. I stared at him, feeling my face twist up in confusion. Even his face had some confusion on it. 

“I don’t know. People usually…” My words trailed off again, not knowing what I was exactly wanting to say to him. “You’re not mad at me? Or hate me or anything…? Right…?” I asked, my voice wavering slightly in fear. Fear of what? I was scared he would resent me. It wouldn’t have been the first, or last, time someone resented me. So, why would I expect him to not resent me? 

“Why would I hate you? Because you’re finally more comfortable with yourself? Or want to be more comfortable with yourself?” Spencer looked at me as he furrowed his brows. I looked down at my lap and shrugged. “You still haven’t said it, but we’re talking about it like you did,” he pointed out. I dropped my shoulders as I looked over at him. 

“You really want me to say it,” I laughed dryly. Spencer smiled at me and shrugged.

“Only if you want to. Just think about how much better you’ll feel,” he offered. I looked down at my lap and sighed.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” I looked back up at him and smiled, “I’m non-binary.” I could feel a certain weight get lifted off my shoulders as I looked at him. Spencer also had a genuine smile on his lips as he looked at me. Like, he also seemed happy with my words.

 “There’s nothing wrong with that, you know,” Spencer smiled at me as he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building. I glanced at him before laughing. “I’m being serious,” he chuckled lightly.

“I sure hope there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re the one who encouraged me to say it!” I laughed as I unbuckled. Spencer returned the laughter before looking over at me.

“Then, why do you care what the team thinks?” Spencer asked as he searched for his apartment keys. “Their opinion shouldn’t matter. It’s your life,” he shrugged and looked up at me once he finally found his keys.  

“Everyone on the team is all my friends and all my family…” I whispered as I looked over at him, “I don’t know what everyone will think,” I knew he wanted me to say it out loud to the team, but I was avoiding it. It’s not that I’m not ready. I just don’t want him to think differently of me.

“When has anyone on the team thought bad of you, Bumblebee?” Spencer asked again before parking the car. I swallowed roughly and looked back down at my lap. Of course, when I actually cut my hair short the first time… I had gotten a horrible haircut and everyone commented on it. “No one’s going to think anything bad about you if you come out,” he reassured. I sighed deeply as I looked towards the ground.

“Yeah, but I don’t care about them Spencer,” I rolled my eyes. I rolled my eyes because even though I do care what the team thinks, I think I care more about what Spencer thinks about me. But, I didn’t want to tell him that.

“Then, why were you so worried about it,” Spencer looked over at me before getting out of the car. I stayed in the car for a moment, silent with my thoughts. He’s got a point though. Why was I so worried about it? Of course, the team was my family. I don’t think I could risk losing the team for being… well, me. Maybe Spencer was right. Who am I kidding? Spencer’s always right. About everything. Maybe I should just tell the team… I’d feel a lot better.

I stayed quiet as we walked into the apartment building. In fact, we were both silent. Which was a rarity in our friendship; one of us was always talking, and it was always Spencer. He always had something to say. I wondered what he was thinking about in that head of his. Until I didn’t have to wonder...

“Native American people have a third gender, generally called two-spirit, where the person takes on roles more or less attributed to the opposite sex or both sexes,” Spencer suddenly started an info dump. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I read this exact thing in a book not too long ago. But, it meant so much to me that he wanted to tell me this.

“When europeans came along, they came with the strict gender binary rooted in Puritism, which put heavy emphasis on community and the importance of procreational (heterosexual) marriage within,” he paused to glance at me, probably to make sure I was still listening. And I was. There would be nothing to stop me from listening to him. 

 “Once the colonizers became a country after the american revolution, they wanted to get as far away from britain as possible. Part of this came with separating themselves from the effeminate man of Britain, whom they saw as feminine and dainty. As a result, they made the American Man, who is basically Teddy Roosevelt in that he is rugged, bold, strong, brutish, daring, and able to survive on the frontier and provide for his family,” he continued as he unlocked the door to his apartment. It was nice to be in a familiar place that felt like home, and felt safe.

“In comparison, the woman was supposed to be the American Housewife who stayed at home, cooked the meals, and raised the children. Thus, the American binary,” Spencer continued his info dump, clearly not knowing he was talking outloud. 

I just stared at Spencer with the utmost adoration in my eyes and face. A small smile grew on my lips as he continued to ramble and info dump about stuff I was newly introduced to. I don’t know why I didn’t tell him sooner, I’m sure he would have been a big help. “That’s very interesting, Spencer,” I smiled at him and cocked my head to my shoulder. Spencer looked at me, a slight panicked look in his eye. 

“I’m… I’m sorry, was I rambling?” He stopped talking and looked at me after a moment of him talking. I shook my head, silently telling him he wasn’t rambling, even though he totally was. At this point we had parted ways, but still held the conversation between rooms, and across his apartment, him being in the kitchen while I stayed in the living room.

“Anyways… I could continue going on about it all. How WW2 influenced the LGBT community and how Nuclear Families messed it all up too,” he spoke before stepping out of the kitchen and leading me to his bedroom. 

“I’m sorry, what?” I looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows. I was honestly surprised with that tiny tidbit of information. “Go on,” I raised a brow as I looked at him. I got comfortable on the bed while I waited for him.

“Yeah! The advent of urban areas provided the perfect place for sexuality and gender identity expression,” he continued talking as he stepped into the bathroom to change, and even continued while in the bathroom, “Many single people suddenly began moving from rural farms with family and religion to urban apartments on their own or with someone of the same identity/gender/sex,” he finally concluded before stepping out of the bathroom. I looked at him and cocked my head to my shoulder. I didn’t have anything to say after he rambled on, so we both stayed silent as we got comfortable in bed. 

“How do you know so much about gender identity and the LGBT community?” I asked, turning to face him more. Spencer looked at me with a nervous smile before looking out to the blanket spread out over us. 

“Oh, I, uh… I did a lot of research when I saw you in the library… And, after I saw you on the forum,” Spencer looked at me and nodded. I could sense that he was lying, and he knew that I could sense it. So, I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sure this is the exact reason,” I smiled before shifting down the bed to get comfortable, “No other reason?” I looked up at him. 

“Nope, no other reason,” he looked down at his book before shaking his head. I could tell there was definitely something, and I could tell he wanted to tell me. But, I won’t force it out of him, just like how he didn’t force it out of me.

“Well, if you have something to tell me… I won’t force it outta you,” I looked over at him with a smile. Spencer glanced at me before grabbing for a book on his nightstand. I shifted down the bed and looked at my phone. “No one’s going to think anything bad about you,” I glanced at him again, repeating the exact things he said to me early in the evening. Spencer glared at me before looking back in his book.

“You’re the worst,” 

“You’re worse than me, Spence,” I laughed as I looked at my phone. I grinned as I browsed random social media. “It’s okay, I get it,” I shrugged before falling silent. 

“I suppose it’s only fair,” he spoke out loud after a moment of silence. I looked up at him, watching as he shifted in his seat. He closed his book before looking down at me, “I guess I’ve been in the same boat as you for a while… Not knowing what anyone would think if I came out, fearing that they’d hate me or judge me,”

“Spencer, you’re the most loved person on the team. No one would ever hate you or judge you,” I sat up before turning to look at him. Spencer looked up at me and nodded. I’m glad we could both agree on that. If anyone hated Spencer Reid, I can guarantee that they’d have a whole fleet of FBI agents on their ass. “You can trust me with anything, Spencer,” I whispered before reaching out for his hands. He looked down at where our hands sat before cocking his head to the side.

“I already trust you more than anyone on the team,” he smiled and chuckled with a nod, “I’ve never told anyone except for one person,” he whispered as he looked up at me.

“That’s okay,” I shrugged as I looked at him. 

“I’m bisexual,” he whispered, his eyes dropping away from my. I stared at him, taking a deep breath. A small smile tugged on the corner of my lips as a worried look grew on Spencer’s. 

“Was that so bad?” I whispered as I fell forward to give him a hug. Spencer laughed as he embraced me. “It felt good, didn’t it?” I backed away from him slightly. Spencer smiled and nodded.

“Like a weight off my shoulders,” he laughed as he looked back at me, “Thanks for that,”

“No, thank you, Spencer, I really needed you and your wonderful words of wisdom… I’ve been struggling with my sexuality a lot, ever since I was a teen really, and you just being there helped,” I smiled at him as I got comfortable in the bed. With that, we fell into a comfortable silence. Sleep wouldn’t find its way to us anytime soon. I think we were both still reeling on the adrenaline of the day. 

But then, I started thinking about our conversation in the car. When I had mentioned I was worried about him (or anyone else) thinking differently of me. I mean, that’s been a fear of mine for years. Someone can go from loving you to the ends of the earth to wanting to be on the furthest end of the earth just to be away from you. So, my fear was totally valid. I didn’t want to lose my friendship with Spencer, or anyone on the team.  

I quickly glanced at Spencer, noting that he was still quietly reading his book. He seemed at total peace with, well, everything. How did he do it? How did he get out of his head after a rough case, and after such a serious conversation? There were too many things I wanted to know, and too many questions I wanted to ask… Why not just ask them?

So, I did...

“Earlier, when you said me being non-binary wouldn’t change the way you think of me… How do…” I paused for a minute, trying to figure my next set of words. Because I could say something wrong, and it’d be the end of everything. “What do you think of me?” I looked up at him as I spoke. He smiled softly and nodded. It was probably a mistake, asking him what his thoughts were on me. I could only think of the worst. Well, I shouldn’t say the worst possible. Worst case scenario was that he was faking it all and he actually hated me. Well, don’t be too hard on yourself.  

“Well, you know,” Spencer shrugged as he shifted closer to me. I looked up at him before leaning away from him. 

“No, I don’t think I do know,” I stared at him, furrowing my eyebrows. He looked at me, dropping his book to his lap and slumping his shoulders slightly. 

“I love you… Okay? I love you whether you’re they/them, she/her, he/him, I don’t care, as long as you’re happy. If you’re happy, then I’m happy, because that’s all that matters to me. Your happiness,” he rambled for a minute. I just stared at him, feeling my shoulders relax as he spoke. My heart rate raised as he continued to talk about how he really felt about me, and I wished he said something sooner… “Hearing Emily misgendering you, and knowing what was going through your head… Sucked… It sucked watching! You deserve the best things…” He continued on, not caring that he was still rambling.

“Spencer,” I whispered, resting a hand on his shoulder to gain his attention. 

“And it’s ridiculous how long I’ve been in love with you too! I should have said something sooner but I didn’t! I don-”

“Spencer!” I shouted this time. It wasn’t an angry shout, though. No, the giggles in my voice and joyful smile on my lips told a different story. And that seemed to get his attention, considering he stopped talking and looked at me. His eyes scanned my face, landing on the joyous smile on my lips. 

“Yes?” He asked softly. I nearly fell into his body, and face, as I let my excitement get the better of me as I tried to kiss him. Spencer laughed as he lifted his hands to my shoulders to make sure I didn’t crash into him.

“I love you too,” I smiled as I looked up at his face. His eyes landed back on my face, his smile becoming soft as he looked at me. The expression his face held showed me that I was now his everything. And, it was a new feeling. I would never get used to a feeling so… grand. But, it was a feeling that I loved, and knew it’d be around for a long time. “What do you think the team will say?” I asked, looking at Spencer as he cupped my face in his hands. 

“About what, Honeybee?” he retorted, his voice a soft whisper. 

“About us, you and me being, well, you and me,” I tried to bite back my smile but failed when Spencer smiled back.

“Who cares what they think… I just care about you,” he smiled before pulling me back in for another kiss. 

“I think I like that answer." 

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ , @thebluetint​

[seokmingiggles]

red velvet.

Anon requested on 201222: "Hello 🥺 I've read ur temptation shua au huhu i luv it. I was wondering if I can request one too 👉🏻👈🏻 just joshua being nice 😇 and naughty 😏 hubby this Christmas hahaha. Thank you in advance and merry Christmas 🎄"

Pairing: Joshua Hong x gender neutral reader

Genre: fluff, very mildly suggestive (not really, it’s mostly humour), established relationship, husband!Joshua, holiday season(?).

1.10k words

Warnings: one swear word, a tiny talk about a sexual activity near the end (yeah, it's mostly humour).

It can often be tricky planning things properly around the holidays with everything and everyone being so busy. Your husband is no exception. He somehow screwed up the form for renting a Santa costume, so he only gets possession of it after Christmas. Alternatively, Joshua tries to seduce you while wearing a poofy Santa suit even though Christmas was a few days ago.

A/N: Hi, anon! Thank you for enjoying my other Shua piece! I know you sent in this holiday-themed request before Christmas, but I complete my requested pieces in the order I receive them; therefore, it had to wait. But this idea came to me, so I tried to make it work! Merry belated holidays!

(The first two lines are my absolute favourite. I laughed a lot while writing this one; I’m sorry in advance for this mess.)

•• "Well, ho, ho, hello there."

"Joshua, what the fuck."

Alright, you've got to admit, this was an unexpected turn of your day.

You had just arrived back home after your shift at the office, but only to be greeted by your husband wearing a Santa suit. He was decked out from head to toe in the soft velvet material; the costume was complete with a wide belt around his waist, a pom-pom embellished hat, and a matching long, white fake beard.

It was the 28th of December last you checked.

"Okay... How did this happen, Josh?"

"I guess my five looked like an eight when I filled out the rental form," your husband shrugged his shoulders. "I wanted to surprise you on Christmas with the costume, but I suppose it didn't go to plan."

"I think you suppose correctly." You were having a hard time removing your gaze from the unusual sight sat at your dining table. "May I ask why you're wearing it? You know that Christmas has passed, right?"

"I just want to get my money's worth, love." From what you could tell beneath the beard, Joshua was adorning a gentle smile. But it was only fleeting as he deepened his voice to fit his character, "Now, come here. Why don't you sit on Santa's lap and tell me what you want for Christmas, little one."

You were astounded, almost too shocked to laugh, "Are you really going to stay dressed like this for the rest of the night? Can you at least take the beard off so I can see your face, Shua?"

"Oh, ho, ho, you must be a naughty one telling Santa to take off his beard."

"Joshua, good grief," you muttered.

You knew you married a dork, but he was certainly pushing his luck tonight. You decided to humour him and padded your way over to his seated position and plopped down onto his lap.

Joshua instinctively moved one arm to your lower back and the other resting on your thigh to support you on him. "Now, tell me, what would you like for Christmas?"

"I'd like for my husband to take off his goofy costume so I can relax with him properly."

"(Y/N)-ah," Joshua whined, effectively breaking character, with his forehead ending up on your shoulder. You had to move your head out of the way so you wouldn't get smacked in the face by his fluffy hat.

"Okay, okay! Santa," you finally complied (it was suddenly worth it when Joshua perked upright, content once again), "I'd like to wish for the health and happiness of all my loved ones this year, please. Especially my beautiful and funny, yet somewhat strange, husband."

"That sounds like a wonderful wish, little one." Joshua tried stroking his beard, "Do you have any other wishes? Perhaps, if your husband would be a little less strange, as you put it?"

You gazed into his eyes, surprised by the warmth you felt despite how he was amusingly clad in the jolly red suit.

"No," you whispered and brought your hand to cup the side of his face, "he may be strange, but I love him without a doubt."

You could tell Joshua was looking at you with the same amount of fondness from the parts of his face not covered by the costume. Really, it was mostly just his eyes, slightly crinkled from his smile hidden beneath the wig.

"Now, love, will you please take the beard off so I can kiss you? Unless you'd rather I not so you can keep it on," you mumbled. "But I will guarantee you that there's no way you'll get any kisses wearing this thing," you held up the end of the tangled mess of white hair.

"No, no, I think that's a good enough reason for me to take it off."

You chuckled lightly as Joshua scrambled to remove the beard, needing to take his hat off too. His face was flushed from experiencing the warmth trapped from beneath the facial wig, with his hair slightly ruffled by the cap.

"Better?" he asked with hopeful eyes.

"It's a start," you quipped before leaning in to kiss him.

Joshua's eyes fluttered shut as he hummed into the kiss, his grip on your thigh tightened ever-so-slightly.

You felt yourself becoming gradually needier at his touch, only until he dared to speak, "I can't believe you're kissing me while I'm dressed like this."

You halted peppering kisses to Joshua's jawline and groaned at his words. You didn't need that reminder.

You lowered your head to his shoulder and mumbled into the coat, "Why are you like this?" It was a rhetorical question.

"Oh hush, you're the one who married me."

You sat up, "And does it look like I'm regretting it now?"

Joshua pondered, then spoke, "Not a few moments ago when I heard you quietly moan into that kiss."

You sighed in defeat and proceeded to stand from your spot on your husband's lap.

"No, no! Don't go, (Y/N)-ie! I was only kidding," your husband pleaded desperately, standing and reaching out to grab your hand before you could walk away.

With him stood up, you finally got a good glimpse at how the costume looked on him. Joshua was quite tall, yet the red ensemble still looked baggy on his slim figure.

"I think you need to eat more cookies, Santa, so you can fill out your suit properly," you patted his tummy lovingly.

"Are you saying we can go make cookies now?"

You lifted your gaze to meet his, finding Joshua bearing a cheerful smile.

"It would be fitting, wouldn't it?" your hands found his sides as you pulled him in for a hug. The red velvet costume was admittedly soft beneath your fingers. "You're such a goof."

"But I'm your goof."

"You got me there, Shua."

Joshua leant in to kiss you once again, tucking some hair behind your ear in the process.

"Wait," you said after a couple of kisses, "why did you rent the suit in the first place?"

You were then met with silence and a sheepish look on your husband's face.

"I..." he began, stuttering slightly, "W-would you be upset if I told you I wanted to try some Santa-themed roleplay?"

Now you were the speechless one.

You tried to comprehend the situation. "I'm not upset for you wanting to roleplay, Josh, but more-so slightly disturbed at the fact you wanted to do it in a rental costume."

Joshua hummed, "Oh, you're right. That's kind of gross, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'll take it off now."

"Thank you." ••

[searchingwardrobes]

Not the Type - 6/8

Finally! A new update :) Sorry for the delay, but the muse has been fickle as of late. In this chapter, Emma has her first competition of the season, and it's psyching her out. Will Killian be her encouragement, or will she push him away in the midst of it all? This chapter includes another iconic scene from the movie, when Torrance dances around her room to Cliff's song. I wanted to use the actual lyrics to the song, but in looking at it, there were a few lines that bothered me. One literally says "I'd bring you flowers every day just to roll you in the hay." And then there's a constant refrain that says "I'll make you mine." Those lines just don't seem to jive for me with Killian's character when in canon he specifically tells David that he doesn't see Emma as loot and tells Emma that he will win her heart, but not through any trickery. We know he isn't the kind of guy to give a woman flowers in order to manipulate her into sleeping with him. We also know how much agency means to him, so I didn't think telling Emma in song "I'll make you mine" fit either. Anyways, that's a long way of explaining that the lyrics are 99% like the ones in the movie, minus those two parts.

Massive thanks to my beta, @hookedonapirate who takes my confusing sentences and makes them sound purty ;) You’re the best! And thanks also to the @captainswanmoviemarathon​ for putting together this event and being massively supportive and patient. 

Summary: Emma Swan first notices him in the stands at the Friday night football game. She can tell right away Killian Jones is not the football type. Then again, she’s not the cheerleader type either, but here she is with pom poms. Life hasn’t ever gone the way Emma planned. Lately, that’s actually been a good thing. Maybe Killian Jones is a good thing, too.

My loose Captain Swan AU of the movie Bring it On

Rated: T

Also on Ao3

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The room was thick with hair spray, and Emma and the rest of the Storybrooke Knights Cheerleaders were sucking on orange slices. Except for Ruby who was touching up her blood red lipstick in front of one of the mirrors propped up on the classroom’s smart board. 

“I think they’re red enough already, Ruby,” Coach Ava remarked as she sprayed more Aquanet all over her daughter’s hair. MM was having to wear a hair extension so she didn’t look out of place with their “hair” theme, and Coach was paranoid it was going to go flying across the gym floor during their routine. Emma wasn’t sure hairspray worked that way, but she wasn’t about to say so. 

Ruby smacked her lips together with a loud pop. “The redder the better, I say. I want them to see my smile.”

She turned to the rest of the group and flashed a toothy grin. They all laughed, and Belle grimaced. 

“More like a predator about to devour her prey.”

Ruby winked at Belle and growled, resulting in more laughter. Coach Ava rolled her eyes as she capped the hairspray. “Just don’t get it all over your teeth, okay Lucas?”

“No worries, Coach, it’s that long-lasting stuff that isn’t supposed to come off.”

“So why did you need fifty coats?” Tiana quipped.

They were all still laughing when a woman wearing a t-shirt that read, East Maybrook Invitational and holding an ipad poked her head into the classroom. “Storybrooke High in the hole!”

The girls all stood, gathering up their things, tossing orange peels into the trash bins and giving their hair and make up one last glance in the mirror. They followed the woman in the official t-shirt down two hallways to East Maybrook High’s cafeteria where cheer mats had been set up in the same configuration as on the performance floor. The girls took their places as if they were really performing, and marked out the routine while Coach Ava counted out the beats. If something went wrong with the music, they would have to keep going. They only pantomimed doing the stunts, however, not wanting to risk a last minute injury. 

After running through the routine, a nervous silence fell among them. Some girls stretched, others did a few jumps, or even a back handspring. Anything to handle their nervous energy. Emma bounced on the balls of her feet, heart pounding in her chest more than usual. A phone call had followed the letter: someone from the UK cheer staff would be in the stands today. 

And she still hadn’t told her friends about it.

“Storybrooke High on deck!” 

The girls gave each other nervous glances and clasped hands in little groups as they followed the woman out of the cafeteria doors. Emma had Ruby on her left and Mary Margaret on her right, their arms threaded together. For once, Ruby was quiet. 

As they neared the gym, the girls could hear the familiar sounds of competition: loud music, an announcer's voice, shouts as the audience cheered for the cheerleaders for once. It made the adrenaline pump even harder. It usually was at this moment that Emma went into her competitive “zone” where everything around her went fuzzy and her mind became laser focused on the routine and what she had to do. Today, however, she felt like she was on sensory overload, unable to turn off all the sights, sounds, and smells around her. 

Before she could even process everything, Storybrooke was being announced to the crowd. Emma ran out onto the floor with a huge smile, cheers, and fist pumps for the crowd, but it felt like she was outside of herself, watching. She took her place on the floor, standing in prep, her arms straight at her sides and her head down. Her fists were clenched, and she tried to control the nervous tremors coursing through her as she waited for their music to start. 

A synth-pop remix of “Hair” from the Broadway musical started to play, and the Storybrooke Knights whipped their ponytails as they started their back handspring/back tuck peel-offs. Coach Ava always said that the music needed to appeal to every generation represented in the judge’s panel as well as the crowd, and as Emma flawlessly landed her tumbling pass to roaring applause, she saw the two boomer judges smiling and bopping to the music. 

She reprimanded herself for looking at the judges as she jogged across the floor for her next tumbling pass. Nevertheless, she scanned the crowd just before she started her pass, wondering where that UK recruiter was. It was the most difficult pass in the entire routine: a back handspring into an arabian, then a double whip into a full twisting double back. She hesitated, stumbling, before getting started because of her distraction, and by the time she did her second whip, she had a sinking feeling. Sure enough, when she landed her double back, she was way out of bounds. She didn’t need the loud buzzer from the line judge to alert her to the fact. She gritted her teeth in frustration, but then remembered to fake a smile as she got into the dance formation. Her face ached from her forced smile as she swung her hips to the rhythm of “Whip My Hair.”

Emma’s next mistake came in the squad’s first pyramid. It felt like she had a weight attached to her ankle, and she couldn’t lift her leg as high as she normally did to connect to Mary Margaret’s stunt group to her left. She almost lost her balance completely, but Ruby compensated and saved it. Mary Margaret didn’t falter either, thank God. Emma was practically shaking as she went into the twist up stunt - her nemesis in this routine. Kelly Rowland singing “Crown” as Emma popped up, her hand grasping her ponytail, helped her power through, as cheesy as it sounded. 

Despite the mistakes Emma was berating herself for, the crowd was going crazy for the combination of the theme, the music, and the cool tricks. By the end, the entire gymnasium was on its feet with thunderous applause. Emma ended the routine seated on the mat, back to the audience with her head flung back. Since she saw them all upside down, she couldn’t pick out her family or anyone in Kentucky blue. 

Ruby yanked Emma to her feet, screaming loud enough to shatter her eardrums. Mary Margaret and Ariel sandwiched her in a hug, and then they were swept away by the rest of their ecstatic teammates. 

“Amazing job, girls!” Coach Ava praised, gathering them in a big, squirming, awkward group hug. “Mary Margaret didn’t even lose her hair!’’

They all laughed giddily, except for Emma. Her mind was reeling. “I went out of bounds,” she confessed.

Coach Ava waved off her words. “It’s our first competition. It’s normal for there to be kinks to work out. Let’s not worry about that until the next practice, though. For now, let’s just celebrate a solid opening for the season.”

Her teammates seemed to all be in agreement, and so did the judges, awarding The Storybrooke Knights with a third place finish. It wasn’t their best opening - that had been last year’s first place trophy to kick off the season - but making the top three was the goal of every top squad right out of the gate. Even the UK recruiter had congratulated her on a solid routine.

“I could see the nerves a bit,” she told Emma, her smile kind and reassuring, “but the level of tumbling skill you possess is rare. Top five I’ve seen so far, no doubt about it. We’ll definitely be in touch.”

Emma, however, couldn’t shake the feeling of failure that clung to her. 

“I’m blown away, Swan, that was amazing!”

Emma was in Killian’s arms before she could even register that he’d rushed out of the bleachers and onto the floor to greet her. He brushed a kiss to her cheek and deposited a bouquet of white daisies into her arms. 

“It wasn’t amazing,” Emma whispered, staring down at the white flowers. 

“Come now, don’t be modest.” Killian’s grin conveyed giddy pride in her which she found inexplicably annoying. 

“I stepped out of bounds on my big tumbling pass, I almost took down our first pyramid, and I was shaky on every single stunt!”

Killian’s eyes narrowed. “Your team doesn’t seem put out with you.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “They’re being nice. If we hadn’t placed, it would have been a different story. It would have all been my fault.”

“Whatever happened to the whole we win as a team, we fail as a team thing?”

“My team relies on me keeping my head on straight!” Her voice had risen, and she slashed the air with the bouquet of flowers. White petals fluttered to the gym floor. 

Killian cocked his head and studied her. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing!”

“It’s something, Swan.” 

He stepped forward, reaching for her, but she stepped out of his reach. 

“I just let everyone down, but no one will be straight with me. Why can’t you all just admit I screwed up today?”

Killian shook his head. “I don’t think you’re seeing things clearly. I saw an amazingly talented athlete today, Swan. You were amazing.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Of course you’d say that. You’re a high school guy. You’ll say anything you have to to get in a cheerleader’s panties.”

Killian’s eyes widened and his head jerked back as if she’d slapped him. “You really think so little of me?”

She tilted her chin. “I’m no fool. Did you think tonight would be the night? Show up to my little competition, compliment me, throw in some flowers, and I’d spread my legs for you?”

Killian backed away, his jaw clenching, nostrils flaring. “I’m going to assume you don’t mean any of that, Emma, so I’m walking away before either of us can say anything we might regret.”

“Fine!” she yelled as he turned and walked toward the gym doors. “Walk away! That’s what every guy does when a girl won’t put out.” She threw the flowers at his retreating form. She watched the white petals swirl through the air and the green stems hit the parquet floor with a soft swish and crinkle of cellophane wrapper. 

“Emma!”

She whirled around to see Ruth standing there, frown upon her face and her brow furrowed. David stood next to her, his arms crossed in disapproval. Nearby a cluster of her teammates stared as if she’d morphed into some mythological creature with two heads. Her face burned as she realized how loudly she’d yelled at her boyfriend. 

Probably ex-boyfriend now. 

Humiliated, she turned and fled, fingers pressed to her flaming cheeks. 

*********************************************

“Go away,” Emma muttered into her pillow.

“What if I were Mom with a plate of brownies?”

Emma grabbed a teddy bear, clutching two tiny red pom poms (a gift from Ruth after last year’s state championship win), and smacked her brother in the head with it. She glared at him through one eye, the rest of her face still smashed into the pillow. 

“I knew it was you because you crashed down on my bed hard enough to catapult me out the window. Ruth’s more subtle.”

David just laughed as he rubbed at his cheek where the bear had met his face. 

“Go away,” she repeated, turning her face fully into the pillow again.

“You left your phone downstairs.”

“So?”

“So, you have like fifty text messages and thirty missed calls.”

Emma rolled over, still clutching her pillow to her chest. “Well, he’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”

“It wasn’t just Killian. Your entire team is worried about you.”

“Because I choked?”

“Because you're delusional,” David shot back with equal parts humor and frustration. “You didn’t choke. You didn’t let any of us down. You didn’t give a lousy performance, or any of a thousand other ridiculous claims you’ve made in the past few hours.”

Emma turned to look at her brother. “I made mistakes, David.”

He shrugged. “Who doesn’t? It was one competition, Emma, not the Olympics. It wasn’t even the state championships or regionals. One. Competition. At some tiny high school in the middle of nowhere, Maine.”

Emma groaned as she pushed herself up to the headboard and let her head drop to David’s shoulder. He put his arm around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about Kentucky?”

Emma sighed. When the recruiter had called, she insisted on speaking to Ruth as well. Emma should have known she would spill the beans to her son, especially after Emma acted like a complete lunatic. 

Yes, a delusional lunatic. Her brother wasn’t wrong. 

“I don’t know, it was just . . . a lot to process. And a lot rides on this. I mean, there aren’t any football recruiters looking at you, which means college is gonna be expensive, Mr. Quarterback. If my tuition is taken care of, Ruth can just worry about you.”

“I could get other scholarships.”

“You’re a white, middle class male. You aren't getting any other scholarships.”

He chuckled and poked her in the ribs. “Regardless of all that, Mom just wants what’s best for you. We’ll figure out college and the money and all that, but we’ll do it together. That’s what a family does. Okay?”

This family thing was still new for Emma, so she just nodded in agreement against David’s shoulder. 

“But speaking of Killian,” David said, waving her phone in front of her face, “some of these calls and texts are from him. He sent you a video, too. Then called me and pretty much begged me to get you to watch it, so just give him that much, okay? So he’ll leave me alone?”

Emma rolled her eyes as she took the phone. David could protest all he wanted, but she knew about the little bromance he had with her boyfriend. 

She waited until her brother went downstairs before she sat cross-legged in the center of her bed and pulled up the video from Killian. She gnawed on her bottom lip nervously before pressing “play.” 

And there Killian was, on the tiny screen, smiling like they’d never had a fight. Emma’s lips pulled up into a grin of her own. He was also holding his guitar in his lap and fidgeting.

“Hi, Emma,” he said with a nervous little wave. “You’ve been ignoring all my calls and texts, so I decided to pull out the big guns. I was gonna give this to you as a gift for like Valentine’s Day or something, but  . . . you know . . . desperate times call for desperate measures.”

He cleared his throat and shifted again, and Emma blinked back tears. She’d never seen him at such a loss for words. 

“I wrote you a song,’ he continued, “so, I’ll just shut up and sing it already.”

Emma gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as he began to strum his electric. It started 

out as a kind of slow, cheeky punk rock ballad.

Oh, Emma, I don’t get your cheerleading squad, but I love your pom-poms. I'd feed you bon-bons all night.

Then it transitioned into a full on rock song, and Killian began to shred on his guitar. He was really good, and the song had Emma bobbing her head to the music. 

1,2,3,4. Yeah, you got me to feel all those butterflies inside. In your locker I would hide. The truth, it's only you I see, and you're just what I need. I'll bring you flowers all the time in hopes that you’ll be mine. Well I'm feelin' fine, I'm right on time. I hope I’ll win your heart.

When he transitioned into the chorus, Emma leapt up from her bed. She propped her phone on her nightstand and began to dance around the room to Killian’s song.

And you're just what I need. And you're just what I need. Not everything works as it seems. Is that so hard to believe? So I went down to the record store. Picked my head up off the floor. The truth, it's only you I see. And you're just what I need. And if it's my world that you fear, let me make this very clear. Well I'm feelin' fine, I'm right on time. I hope I’ll win your heart. And you're just what I need.

The chorus repeated a couple more times, and Emma danced around her room like she hadn’t in a long time. She even grabbed an old pair of pom poms she’d gotten as a joke at the squad’s white elephant Christmas party. They were those enormous pom poms cheerleaders used to wave in the long ago days of letter sweaters and megaphones. They made a fun swishing sound as she bounced around the room to Killian’s song. 

A song he’d written for her! A song about her! If she wasn’t so giddy and happy, she would burst into tears. 

When the song ended, Emma collapsed onto her bed, panting from her ridiculous dance party and grinning ear to ear. She rolled over and grabbed her phone. She texted rapidly, her fingers trembling. 

I watched your song. 

Did you like it? 

I LOVED it!

Good. I meant every word. 

I’m sorry. 

I know. 

[life-rewritten]

Gifted Graduation: The futility of Pang's idealism

Episode 8-10 of Gifted Graduation has been just filled with mind fuckery, and overflow of plot twists after plot twists. Thing is as much as everyone is complaining about this,  The Gifted has always been a show that has taken us on a journey of fear, exhilaration and worries only to then even break us further by ridiculing our hopes, dreams and idealism for a better future/better world. In this situation, we are like Pang, a boy who was shown the cruelty of close-minded and controlling adults who have no care for the children like him. These kids who are being viewed as tools and accessories because of their unique abilities.

In season 1 Pang learnt about his powers and made a decision to fight the system and defeat the adults who are controlling it. Season 1 ended with a depressing revelation; Pang was still too naive and too unprepared for taking down the adults. So he and his team hid for two years preparing for a way to defeat this system. In season 2 from Episode 10 we are shown how futile all this is, all Pang had hoped for, all he worked for, all he dreamed of was a lie, he was still being used as a tool for the downfall of all his own dreams. This is so painful to see because we are like Pang, we want a better society, a better world, a better life, and yet just as we also hoped and thought that things would improve we again fell for Supots lies and trickery. So we also were left feeling bleak and hopeless. So here is a post analysing why Season 1 finale of Gifted mirrored episode 8-10 of The gifted graduation. Is Pang's idealism really useless, how does this affect everyone, has Supot finally won, and what do we do now?

THE THEME OF THE SHOW; FUTILITY OF IDEALISM

I first noticed the clue that Season 1-Ep 10-13 was being mirrored in Gifted graduation episode 8-9 because of the certain similarities that were shown and also the return to plotlines from the past season that finally showed growth/change or showed a full-circle moment. The reason for why Gifted graduation ends up mirroring the same ideas as Season 1 is to laugh at us, and to laugh at Pang for failing yet again to realise the truth (despite thinking we were close to winning ) and again repeating the same mistakes of the past. Let me explain with the clues first:

PANG DEFEATED

In Season 1, Pang starts as a determined boy who wants to prove he's something, but slowly sees the horrors of his school system misusing and treating his peers like experiments because of their powers. Pang is determined to defeat Supot and change the gifted system. Still, by the finale, we see that even though he thought he was always a step ahead Supot always knew what he was up to, Supot manipulated him and his peers and unravelled all their plans in one go by revealing his powers and revealing his plans for the gifted. Pang is left defeated with his memories wiped and we the audience screamed in pain and frustration at our main character losing.

Season 2 Pang thinks he has the upper hand; his memories are back. He's avoiding his powers, so he doesn't end up like our villain, he has his peers back on his team. By episode 4 the goal is fulfilled; Supot is defeated and even by episode 6 despite the fact that we think the ministry is evil we still see that Supot is defeated, he's forced out of the school, and he goes in hiding. By episode 7-8 we begin to think Supot is actually a victim of this messed up system and he's just become evil because of the pressures of life, we start to trust him a bit, and we begin to think there is an immense evil at hand to defeat. Pang and we were fools. Gifted episode 10 repeats again the same copy of Pang being under Supots control, Pang being betrayed once again by his peers, and Pang also realising that everything he did was for nothing.

This time, the defeat is more painful, there's more at stake, there are lives lost and broken (Korn, Yuth, students being under a virus that causes brain damage) and the very goal Pang had wanted to defeat in Season 1, Pang was the sole cause of making it fulfilled. Its dramatic irony, it's hurtful, and it is soul-crushing to realise that all the pain he went through was for nothing. In the end, Pang is just still a tool to Supot, Pang put his peers again under Supot's control, but it's even worse time because he's putting more schools under Supots control. Pang is left with no one, nothing and no hope on his side. He's left defeated once again.

SUPOTS POWERS MORE THAN THEY SEEM

Season 1 is such an incredible story for how Supot and Pang became enemies to each other. We start of Season 1, learning about Pang's potential, to control minds with touch, we're petrified and scared about the strength of his powers since we see how it can hurt people (the first time he uses it), the only thing that's exciting and hopeful about this is that he can use it on Supot who is blissfully unaware. We expected Supot to underestimate Pang and not know what his gifts were but no. The reveal again in a painfully ironic twist is that Supot is a stronger version of Pang. His powers are so powerful he's able to get everyone to defeat Pang, he's able to convince people to lie to Pang and us, so we are blissfully unaware of what was genuinely happening the whole season. Pang is left horrified at the truth about Supot; not only does he have with the same potential as him, but he can do with without touch. This was an incredible plot twist. 

Yet season 2 manages to trick us into thinking Supot's powers are not as powerful anymore, Pang is the one who has to use his powers to become stronger and defeat the ministry. Supot had a past where he didn't want to use his powers for evil. Or that's what he told us, and that's what we fell for yet again. The realisation in episode 10 that Supot is insanely powerful, he can prevent Pang's potential from affecting him, he can convince people to kill themselves, and yes he can also convince and hurt Pang's peers if they don't do his bidding; the fact that Supot yet again manipulates Korn in this episode. This is also a repeat of season 1 because Korn was tricked into thinking his powers were gone by Supot only to realise he lied to there was no antidote. This both affected Mon and Korn just like Supots control over Korn revealed in episode10 led to Korn trying to commit suicide because he was so scared and betrayed, and Mon losing her trust in Pang because of losing Korn. Supots powers not only leads to Pang being hurt and betrayed but in season 2 we've seen they've led to death, they've led to despair, and they've led to misunderstandings and pain.  Supot from the start never was good; he tricks us into believing he was someone else when really he erased his ex-best friends identity and convinced him to kill himself whilst he had lost his hope and had learnt that his idealism for a better world was useless. Already we see that with Supot's past that the show is echoing that idealism for equality and difference is futile.

WAVE AND PANG AGAINST THE WORLD

This and Clare and Punns storyline in episode 8 are what made me know that Gifted was mirroring season 1 with this season. I couldn't see the reason at that time or sort out the theme, but now I know what it is. So Clare and Punns relationship is damaged as both have to grow, we get a repetition with Punn going evil with Void showing up threatening to hurt and kill again, Punn broken down at the end by Clare. But it shifts, we see Punn and Clare break up, they've both grown, they've both changed, and they want to work on themselves first before they return to each other.

In contrast, we get a repetition of a bond that was tested throughout season 2, Wave's trust in Pang is ruined at first because of Pang's insensitive actions when focused on his goals ( another repetition of season 1 with Pang's flaw). Still, Wave and Pang reunite to try and defeat the ministry and also help achieve their goals. Whilst everyone betrayed or wasn't on the side of Pang, Wave stays loyal and it's him and Pang against the world. 

In season 1 this also happens, more because Pang refuses to trust anyone else to help with his goals, and so he keeps it a secret; his plans to defeat Supot, Wave helps him with it but ends up betraying him because of Supot. We see in the trailer for episode 11; Wave is forced to think again about this decision because this time he's threatened with the virus. There is now something that can defeat the gifted and take away their potential. 

Wave however in season 1 pretends to side with Supot, but we see at the end he helps Pang regain his memories. So I don't believe that he'll betray Pang, I think whatever we see on the surface in the next episodes are not to be trusted, Pang and Wave will have another plan on how to defeat Supot, but it will be very hidden and secretive. But the importance of this mirror is because Pang needs Wave, so he doesn't give up on his idealism, so he still has hope in his dreams. Wave is the person who is the helper to Pang through thick and thin. Pang's idealism may be futile right now but because we have more episodes and we still have Wave who won't betray him unless, under mind control, he'll come back around.

SUPOTS PAWNS

By the end of season 1 everyone becomes a pawn in Supot chess game, he uses and manipulates everybody to do his bidding. Sometimes he keeps them hidden as final revelations, sometimes he lies to them to make them give in and change, and sometimes he uses his powers to convince people to lose. The repeated pawns ins Supots plans from season 1 obviously is the Pom and Chanon.  But before we talk about them, let's talk about the other mirror characters:

DARIN; she's a mirror character for the previous female teacher in the school. The audience thought that teacher was supportive of Supot but Pang learns that she is actually good and worried about the students without potentials. Pang also uses her with his powers to attack everyone and give them the vial that causes removal to their abilities.  Pang used her as a pawn as the last option to defeat Supot. She ended up being weak and not necessary. Darin is the same, at first we think she's right and she's out to protect the kids (just like this woman, and she probably was because she's a mirror of this woman) but she ends up being seen by Pang as manipulative and also evil siding with the ministry. Supot convinces Pang and us that the ministry is corrupt thereby we also see her as someone evil. In episode 10 its revealed she's just as weak; she's just a pawn underneath Supot and the ministry who is helpless and powerless just like the other teacher.  She and the ministry don't even come close to being the greater evil we thought they were; they're under Supots control. They're his tools for his goals. And Pang joins that. Sigh.

POM AND CHANON have a different significance; Pom was the pawn who we thought we could trust in season 1 until it was revealed he betrayed Chanon, he had the potential to erase memory and he was under Supots control by choice. Pom keeps betraying Pang despite being a father figure to him, someone who mentors and helps him with his gifts. And sigh season 2 reveals that Pom still is that pawn, he still is under Supot. His goal, to teach Pang the theme and reason for why we keep getting this copy of the plot of season 1; idealism is futile, it's useless to fight someone like Supot, and it'll just hurt worse if you try. Pom, however, ends up growing as well, he reveals he's good, and he cares about Pang and Chanon, but it's too late because he was right, idealism and trying to fight was useless. Chanon overpowers him, and he ends up being discarded as a worthless tool for Supot (though he loved him as a son), and now he's broken and damaged by the virus.

So you see Chanon who we saw as the actual symbol for Pang's idealism. He's the reason for why Pang hoped and tried to fight for freedom, he's the reason for why Pang still trusted adults, he's the reason for why Pang believed he could defeat Supot (because he predicted accurately of Pangs coming), but no he ends up being the very symbol for the futility of idealism. He ends up being the worst useless pawn under Supot; he destroys all of his old personality, his old idealism, his old positives for revenge because he's been traumatised by the past. Because of resentment for Pom, Supot manipulated and convinced Chanon to throw away his idealism and become defeated. It's painful because again these two echoes the same theme Pang's idealism is futile, Supot is always one step ahead and trying to fight him is hopeless. It hurts. We realise now that we didn't succeed at all even after season 1 taught us how to evade Supot. We still failed, instead, like fools we've repeated the same story, but this time Pang played a massive role in getting Supot what he wanted. Pang ended up being the worst painful pawn under Supot. It's so ironic, it's so severe, it's so soul-crushing, and it leaves all of us in shock. 

What do we do now? Can Supot be defeated? Will ever get to see Pang get his goals? Or is it all useless to try and change the system?

THE NEXT GENERATION; GRACE, TIME AND THIRD

For so long, I wondered why we needed these three characters, why didn't we just focus on our gifted students. But that's the point, whilst all of our other characters were repeating the same mistakes and stories of the past, seeing time and time again that idealism was useless, our three new characters were stuck, on a pause, they show up by the end of episode10 belatedly ready to try and defeat Supot. 

Supot doesn't have these three under his control yet; he does not know of Grace's potential to see the future. I also think this is already showing you a symbol that even if idealism is futile, the future is always filled with potential for change, potenial for hope and potential for a difference. Grace being able to see her self in the future suggests that the message we've been shown so far can still change, the mistakes of the past can still be erased and improved on, and we will be fine. Supot does not know how much these kids believe in Pang's idealism and in how much these kids want change and want to fight for what is right:

From the beginning, these kids are perfect for defeating Supot:

We have Time: who will do anything for the right reason, someone who wants change, someone who fights for change and fights for doing the right, justified thing. Time does not give up easily, and just like Pang, he's idealistic and hopeful about changing the world.

Grace: does not give a fuck about traditions and the system. she thinks that as long as you try and as long as you make an effort, you can get what you want. Unlike Time, Grace isn't afraid to try different ways to achieve her goals even if they seem wrong/not moral. She's someone who cares about her friends and her peers, and she doesn't care about adults.

Third: Aggressively chooses what is right, he likes to be correct, he likes to be on the side of power but because he wants to be useful. He likes doing good and ensuring that people follow the rules. This is also a negative because if he ends up believing that Supots rules are the right thing, then he can also be a villain. Still, for now, he believes that Pang and the ministry are correct, so he is going to aggressively fight for those rules to be followed, for the right thing to be done.

So with our new generation, we have determination despite seeing futility, we have lack of care for tradition, adults and the system despite how scary it seems, we have hope, and a will to fight for what is right. And we have people who want justice. Isn't it funny? Although gifted shows the failure of society, the way we are all stuck in old systems that are cruel and wrong, the way achieving change and equality is always seeming futile to us because of the people above us, the new generation still stays fighting. The new generation does not give up; they're loud, active and willing to get change no matter what. These three students are now with Pang (who has escaped) the people who still can defeat Supot. We may have had history repeat, but the new generations learn from history, knows not to give up hope, and pushes on to try and change.

So you see, using Season 1 repetition and mirroring to keep echoing that Pang's idealism for change and equality is futile, useless and ineffective, we also get one more repetition where just as Chanon said about Pang in the past showing up to prove Supot wrong and fight for change, we get Grace and her crew now taking Pang's place as our main characters ready to go fight for change and end Supot's tyranny. And you know what? I believe that we will get a successful ending because of this. I think this is beautiful, way to show that the world might be broken (especially with all that has been going in 2020: the riots in Thailand for equality and freedom, black lives matter in the US, NSARS in Nigeria and other countries that have been fighting for a change)  but we still can fight for change and equality. Having idealism may seem futile, but it isn't, it's needed and its what's going to change and break the system. So thank you for The Gifted Graduation for this message.

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: Mall Santa (Boomer/Mike and Brick/Blossom)

Summary: To earn a little extra cash over the holidays, Brick, Mike, and Boomer agree to help out their buddy Todd at a Mall Santa gig. Shenanigans ensue.

This one is for @snailbutters, @genovah, and @hanaokm. Merry Christmas and happy holidays! Enjoy some Boomike, Blossick, and Capri Sus on me. 

[Cross-posted to AO3]

xxx

There were a lot of things Todd needed: a haircut, for one. His black hair was getting too long for gel and it was really pushing the boundary between greaser sexy and sad trash hobo. Money, for another. But like any other 21-year-old townie with a high school education and two restaurant jobs, he always needed money.

A new best friend, for yet another.

“I’m not your best friend,” Brick snapped as he tied a black tie around his neck. He needed to leave in ten minutes if he was going to be early for his dinner meeting with Oliver Morbucks.

Todd put a hand over his heart like it might fall out of the wound Brick’s words had stabbed there. “Dude, of course you are. I’m totally sorry if I ever gave you the wrong idea.”

Brick grimaced so hard he was sure he’d end up constipated. “No, you idiot. I know you think I’m your best friend. You’ve never shut up about it, even after we graduated high school. I’m pretty sure the whole fucking Peninsula knows it the way you go around shouting it when you’re blasted.”

Todd looked like he’d just received news that his favorite nana wasn’t dying of cancer after all. “Oh, cool. For a second there I thought I really hurt your feelings. You know you’re kinda sensitive, right?”

Oh god.

“What do you want, Todd? I have a really important meeting and I’m not missing it for your bullshit.”

Brick checked his reflection in the bathroom mirror in his one-bedroom apartment in downtown Townsville. It was a shitty hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but Brick was used to squalor. His break was coming, he could feel it. If tonight’s meeting went over well, he’d have a more steady revenue stream and, more importantly, the connections and clout the Morbucks name brought to open doors. All the long days at Red’s Auto Shop saving and scraping by would finally pay off, and just in time for Blossom to graduate from college. It was perfectly planned, meticulously manipulated, all down to this last pivotal dinner.

“Cool, no big deal! I just need to know if you’re free this weekend.”

“Free to do what?” Brick indulged him, because Todd was one of the few people on this planet who wasn’t 100% intimidated by his very presence.

“To help me with this Mall Santa gig I got. Harry Pitt was supposed to be my number two elf, but he ate some bad prawns and they had to, like, airlift him to Citiesville General.”

Brick stopped everything he was doing and glared at his second-to-best friend, which was a key fact because second was not the same as first. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“I know, right?” Todd knew his way around Brick’s embarrassingly small bathroom, opened up the hair wax, and fixed Brick’s styling job. “Dude always had a weak stomach, you remember. But you don’t fuck with bad prawns. I mean, obviously.”

Brick swatted Todd’s hands away and checked his reflection. It was definitely an improvement. “Not that; the Mall Santa thing, obviously!”

“Oh, yeah. So you’ll help me out?”

“Fuck no.”

“Aw, Briiiiiiick,” Todd whined.

Brick grabbed his dinner jacket from the closet barely big enough to fit a small, starving child. Todd, who had latched onto Brick in the seventh grade like a goddamned barnacle and never let go no matter how hard Brick tried to push him away, followed. “Not if you paid me.”

“You’ll get paid! It’s $20 an hour!”

Brick hesitated over the threshold. “That’s higher than minimum wage.” It was higher than his hourly rate at the garage too.

“Seasonal gigs, man. That’s how you win.”

“It’s seriously fucking not.”

Todd, one of three people in the universe who actually cared about Brick on a personal level even though he wasn’t obligated by blood, made his blue eyes big and wide in a way that reminded Brick of Puss-n-Boots from Shrek, Todd’s favorite movie. “C’mon, bruh. Do your bestie a solid? Just this once? I really need the money and they won’t let me keep the gig without two elves to fill in. So please? Pleeeeeeease?”

And Brick, former scourge of Townsville, a Super with the power to literally raze the planet if it so much as tickled his fancy, and the dictionary definition of the boy every father dreads his perfect, pretty little girl falling for against her better judgment, cracked like an egg.

“For fuck’s sake,” he groused. “Just text me the time and place and get out of my face already.”

Todd punched the air with both fists. “Yes!! Oh, hell yes! I love you so much, dude.”

“Blow me.” Brick checked his watch. Shit, now he was merely on time.

“I’d consider it an honor,” Todd said, probably literally serious.

xxx

Boomer rolled glitter on his cheeks and around the edges of his dark blue eyes with the help of a compact as he huddled behind the North Pole set on the first floor of the Townsville Mall. When he was satisfied that he sparkled like the tinsel-festooned Christmas trees in Santa’s twelve-by-fifteen-foot “forest” themselves, he discreetly re-emerged just as the latest child slid off Santa’s lap.

“Merry Christmas, Dan!” bellowed a red and white-clad Todd behind an enormous, curly beard. “Remember to brush your teeth!”

The little boy ran back to his parents, who were having a word with the photographer about purchasing a picture of their son on Santa’s lap. Before Boomer could follow them, Brick was quick to cut him off.

“Where the hell were you?” he demanded. Sour as an un-sugared plum in his festive, candy-striped elf costume, Brick may have absolutely intimidated the seven-year-olds waiting in line with their parents for a turn on Santa’s lap, but Boomer only allowed him a bemused smile.

“Why, I was making toys for the good little boys and girls who came to visit us here at the North Pole,” Boomer said in a raised voice. He looped his arm through his brother’s and let his power surge with enough force to turn Brick around and face the crowd that was definitely within hearing range. “Isn’t that right, Elf Mursten?”

Brick pushed back with inhuman force, but Boomer held his ground with a smile as bright as the glitter on his cheeks as a little girl in overalls trotted forward.

She giggled. “I like your hat.”

“Thank you!” Boomer gushed, and he tipped his pom-pom-topped cap. “And what’s your name?”

The little girl giggled again. “My name’s Alynn.”

“Well, Alynn, why don’t you step right up and take a seat on Santa’s lap? I’m sure he has a great present for a cool girl like you. Right, Elf Mursten?”

Brick glared medieval torture at him, and he managed a smile that showed too many teeth to be anything other than life-threatening. “Of course, Elf Buller.”

Boomer’s smile tightened.

“Ho ho ho! Come on over, Santa doesn’t bite,” Todd said.

“What a psychotic reassurance,” Brick said soft enough for only the Super brothers to hear.

“Hey, Brick?” Boomer said, just as softly. “Cheer the fuck up.” He gave his brother a bone-crushing squeeze around the arm and broke from him. Brick could be a sourpuss when he wanted to be (all the time), but he wouldn’t mess up Todd’s Mall Santa gig when he’d bothered to show up and actually put in the effort at all. Complain as he might about Todd’s exuberance, Brick had always come through for his best friend since the seventh grade.

Boomer, on the other hand, had been very happy to accept Todd’s offer to work the two weeks leading up to Christmas. The hours were reasonable, the pay was good, and Boomer loved children. It was easy money in between local shows he and his garage band had booked over the holidays.

Plus, the photographer had a nice rack.

“Okay, Santa, Alynn. Look over here and say ‘jingle bells’!” A flash went off, and Mike Believe stood to his full height behind the tripod he’d set up for the day’s pictures. Even in reindeer antlers and a bright, red-painted nose, Mike filled out every fold of his brown Rudolph outfit almost to the point of popping a button. His broad chest puffed out when he put his strong hands on his hips and grinned brightly like he wouldn’t pick anywhere else to be right now.

Their eyes met, and Boomer flushed and smiled like a fool.

When Mike winked back at him coyly, his heart leaped into his throat. Mike had gotten home from college just two days ago, but the three weeks he had off for Winter Break would surely fly by like they did every year, and Boomer was determined to spend every moment together.

A tug on Boomer’s green tunic drew his attention. “Can I take a picture with you? Please?” the little girl asked.

Boomer beamed and scooped her up onto his hip. “Of course you can. Hey, Mike? Can you take one of us, please?”

“You bet! Get in close, now.” Mike readied his camera.

“Oh, wait a sec. Why don’t you take this too?” Boomer removed his festive hat and put it on Alynn’s head. It was big on her, but she laughed happily.

They posed for the picture, and Boomer hugged her cheek to cheek.

“Thanks!” The little girl tried to give him his hat back, but he pressed it to her chest.

“You keep it. Merry Christmas. Remember to be good, okay?”

Alynn’s father was waiting with a hand for her to take when she ran back to him, yammering about how she’d met Santa and his super cool elf friend, and Boomer watched them go.

“You know you’ll have to pay for that hat,” Brick said.

Boomer sighed and ran a hand through his cornflower hair. “You know I look better without it.”

Brick frowned deeply. “Uh-huh.”

“If you keep frowning, your face will stick like that.”

“Moron.”

He always had to have the last word. Brick went to stack the empty boxes wrapped in bright, shiny paper, which was probably more productive than blowing up the entire display. Boomer left him to it. It was time for their mid-morning break, anyway.

Todd got up to stretch. “Man, who knew sitting could be so tiring, huh? Whack.” His phone buzzed, and he grinned when he saw the caller ID.

Boomer, however, had eyes only for Mike as the latter turned off his camera and put a sheet over the tripod to protect it. “Working hard, I see.”

When Mike smiled, his dark eyes crinkled in the corners. He had a face made for smiling. “Oh, you know. Just helping out some friends.”

Like Brick, Todd had asked Mike to help out behind the camera for this gig. Mike didn’t exactly need the extra cash given his lacrosse scholarship that covered his college expenses, but the three of them had been as thick as thieves all through high school no matter what Brick said when he was annoyed. No way was Mike going to bail on the chance to help out a bro.

“This is cute,” Mike said, running a thumb over Boomer’s sparkly cheek.

“If only I could convince Brick to wear some,” Boomer said, lacing his fingers in Mike’s as they shuffled to the side of the exhibit behind a blinking Christmas tree for a bit of privacy.

Mike chuckled. “That’ll take a Christmas miracle. But anyway, I don’t want to talk about Brick right now.”

Their kiss was soft and mostly chaste, considering the venue, but Boomer didn’t mind at all. He rose up on his toes to lean into his boyfriend’s superior height and smiled into their kiss. Even in the middle of the Townsville Mall with shoppers mere yards away, for a few seconds Boomer got lost in the fantasy of the forest and the snow drifts, bright lights and magic that came around only once a year and had always touched his heart in a way nothing else quite could.

“Babe! You got here quick!” Todd’s excitement and a small commotion around Santa’s throne drew the lovers’ attention, and Boomer reluctantly broke the kiss. His Super hearing quickly picked up on what was going on.

“What is it?” Mike asked.

Boomer smiled wryly. “That Christmas miracle you wished for. Come on.” He took Mike’s larger hand in his and pulled him back toward the front of the display, where Todd had scooped up a very small, very fashionable Asian woman in his arms.

“Oh my god, don’t do shits in front of the innocent children, Toddy.” Hana patted her high bun and smoothed out her oversized black jacket once Todd released her.

“Hey, I just missed you is all,” Todd said with a genuine smile like he had really, truly missed his girlfriend since this morning when they had last seen each other.

“You guys are too cute,” said Bubbles with a giggle. As usual, she was adorable in blonde twin tails and a holiday-appropriate sweater dress. Shopping bags hung from both her arms, also as usual.

“Right?” Hana said, her deadpan façade melting completely as she beamed at her closest friend.

“No contest.” Bubbles set down her small nation of shopping bags. “Oh! Hi, Boomer!” She dashed to hug him in a flash of blue, and he caught her easily. “Oh my gosh, I love your glitter. You look like a supermodel!”

Boomer laughed and hugged her back. “Thanks for letting me borrow it. I really owe you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Oh, but you definitely need some touching up. Here, let me just…”

Mike had wandered over to Todd and Hana. “Hey, Hana. Are you staying for the holiday?”

Hana shrugged. “Yeah, my art show isn’t until after New Year’s. You know, I’m always looking for more models.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

Mike laughed. “I’m honored, but I’m really nothing special, honestly. You might try Butch.”

Todd guffawed. “Oh man, Butch is, like, one of her top models! She painted him for what, six weeks last summer, babe?”

“Seven,” Hana said, dead serious.

Mike smiled nervously. “That’s a lot of inspiration.”

“He is very inspiring,” Hana said, deader and more serious.

“That dude is goals,” Todd said, totally unironically.

“I guess I can’t argue with that,” Mike said.

“Aaaaand done.” Bubbles stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Honestly? You’re the most beautiful elf the North Pole ever employed.”

Boomer snickered. “Don’t tell Brick that.”

“Don’t tell me what, now?” Brick emerged from his useless empty box stacking task, glitter-less and severely lacking in Christmas cheer.

Bubbles gasped, right on cue. “Brick! Where is your glitter? Get over here.”

Brick made a weird face. “What are you talk—hey!”

Bubbles all but accosted him with the glitter pen. Hana cheered and applauded, and Todd joined in because he liked to cheer and applaud in general.

“What are you—get off!” Brick shoved Bubbles hard, but a flash of pink caught her before she could crash into anything.

Blossom peered around her totally unfazed sister, a tray of lattes in one hand and her perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised. “Brick,” she said.

Brick swallowed. “Blossom.”

She looked nice in leggings and a sweater dress that matched Bubbles’ style, except where Bubbles’ was white, Blossom’s was a scarlet that rivaled the shade of Brick’s eyes.

“I brought you guys coffee,” Blossom said, her eyes trained on Brick even as she held out the tray.

Mike took the tray before it could become collateral damage in whatever was going on between the two of them.

“Here you go.” Mike offered one to Boomer, who gratefully accepted it.

“Thanks!”

“I thought you weren’t getting home until tomorrow,” Brick said, as if he and Blossom were the only two people there.

“Change of plans,” Blossom said. “Problem?”

Brick seemed to remember what he was wearing and snatched his elf hat from his head. He bunched it up between his hands like that would hide his imagined shame. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine, clearly. But it wasn’t Boomer’s place to intrude. He would have been extremely happy for it to end there, but sadly Blossom, like his brother, had a flair for the dramatic and an affinity for the center of attention.

She sauntered up to him and smeared the bit of glitter Bubbles had managed to draw on his cheek before he’d shoved her off. “Good,” she said, half an invitation and half a challenge.

Brick didn’t bend easily. Boomer knew his brother as well as he knew himself, and he knew Brick didn’t relent, never gave in unless he was well and truly beaten, which was rare. But he slackened now, lips parting and eyes falling. Even though his arms stayed stubbornly at his sides and he didn’t do something as scandalous as hold his girlfriend’s hand in public, he melted under her touch and attention.

“All right! Bloss, you’re back early! This is massive, like, supernova massive,” Todd said. “Hey, I know! Let’s throw a party at mine tonight! Brick said you weren’t coming back for another couple of days, so this is like a cool early Christmas present to all of us.”

Bubbles gasped. “Oh my gosh, yes! Let’s all go to Todd’s tonight, just like we used to. I’m calling Robin right now.”

“We can make it a real Christmas party,” Blossom said. Somehow, she’d gotten ahold of Bubbles’ glitter pen and now smeared a generous amount on Brick’s cheeks until he gleamed without suffering a nuclear meltdown. A Christmas miracle, indeed.

“You’ll wear the Santa suit,” Hana said. Demanded.

“Ho ho ho! You got it, babe.”

“That thing’s a rental,” Brick said. “And it’s, like, 75 degrees outside.”

“If he gets too hot, I’ll hose him down,” Hana said.

Brick smartly decided not to press her on that one.

“I like your elf costume, Brick,” Blossom teased. Maybe.

“I’m burning it as soon as I get paid,” Brick said.

“I thought it was a rental like Todd’s?”

He hesitated, trapped by his own logic, and she laughed softly and kissed the side of his mouth. Brick froze and played it off like it didn’t affect him, but his eyes were drawn to Blossom’s lips for the next six whole minutes. Boomer really didn’t get why he had to make everything so damn complicated.

“Hey, hombres, our break is up and I see a super cute kid waiting to sit on the softest lap in Townsville,” Todd said, sinking back onto his candy cane throne and patting his lap.

Brick visibly cringed.

“It could be worse,” Mike whispered to Brick. “At least this time we get to keep our shirts on.”

Boomer smiled at the memory of Todd’s last seasonal gig he’d roped Brick and Mike into over the summer. The shirtless carwash had admittedly been one of his more rewarding part-time jobs, and Boomer had the photo evidence to cherish the memory extremely fondly.

Blossom and Hana retreated behind Mike while Bubbles finished up her phone call with Robin and Brick admitted the next child on set.

“Welcome to the North Pole,” he said with all the cheer of an old tire. Nonetheless, his cheeks dazzled. “What’s your name, kid?”

She looked up at him but didn’t say anything. Boomer noticed her shyness and decided he better intervene.

“Hey there,” he said, taking a knee so he could be on her eye-level. “Merry Christmas.”

That alarmed her even more, and she hugged Brick’s leg.

“What the—” Brick put his hands up like he didn’t know what to do with them. “Great.”

The girl’s parents were busy talking to Mike about the picture packages and didn’t seem to notice what was going on.

“Uh,” Boomer said, ready to flag them down before the little girl got scared or started to cry. They’d been lucky this morning with only one child throwing a temper tantrum out of the tens they’d seen.

“All right, kid. I hope you have a good grip.” Brick floated off the ground with the little girl clinging to his leg and flew over to Todd’s throne.

Boomer was so flabbergasted by his brother’s gross disregard for this child’s safety in front of her parents that he was momentarily stunned where he kneeled. It was over in about two and a half seconds, with her parents none the wiser and the little girl still in one piece, miraculously. Brick peeled her off him and dropped her on Todd’s lap.

“Name,” Brick demanded. And then, reluctantly: “…To check you off the Nice List.”

The little girl looked up at him with wide-eyed wonderment, or maybe fear. “Morana.”

“Morana. Super. Tell Todd—I mean, Santa—what you want. And smile for the camera.”

Todd didn’t miss a beat and wrapped his arms loosely around her to hold her safely in place. “Morana, that’s a pretty name. Wanna tell me what you want for Christmas?”

Morana pointed at Brick. “That one.”

Brick turned as red as his messy man bun. Todd wheezed.

“Oh, yeah? Well, that one’s taken, but I bet I can get you a picture together. How ‘bout it?” Todd asked.

Boomer was up and moving in a blue flash. “That can be arranged.” He shoved his brother with a healthy burst of Super strength, and Brick all but fell on his knee next to Todd’s throne. Boomer waved back at Mike for the picture.

“Big smile now!” Mike said cheerfully, and snapped the picture.

“What the hell is up with these kids?” Brick asked when Morana skipped back to her parents and started chattering at them in a language Boomer didn’t recognize but assumed must be all good things from the way she grinned from ear to ear. “They get bolder every year.”

“Or you’re just getting softer,” Boomer teased.

“Yeah, right.”

Blossom laughed at something Hana said on a nearby bench, drawing both their eyes.

“Whatever you say, man,” Boomer said.

xxx

Todd’s party was a nostalgic and long-overdue affair later that evening. Unlike Boomer, who had to make do in a small studio apartment on the outskirts of Citiesville where the rent was more manageable and his commute didn’t matter when flying anywhere took only minutes, Todd lived in a big house he took care of for his often absent, globe-trotting parents. Blossom, Bubbles, and Robin had taken the initiative and strung up Christmas lights, while Boomer created and managed the playlist for the night. They had a good crowd with old friends from high school and new ones from work and college gathered for no excuse other than to have a good time.

Butch, Buttercup, Mike, and Todd had set up beer pong in the basement, where most of the festivities were taking place. As usual, the shit talking and macho bravado had soared to ludicrous heights.

“Come on, BC,” Todd goaded. “Money shot, right here.” He fluffed his Santa beard, the ends of which were damp with beer. Buttercup had one cup left to hit.

“I’m about to straight-up tea bag you with this ping pong ball, Todd, I swear to god.” Buttercup tried to focus on her aim after too many beers and the distraction of Todd’s stupid Santa beard.

“Do it, fucking do it,” Butch said, bobbing on the balls of his feet and slightly manic with the competition and holiday cheer, probably.

“I’m gonna fucking do it!”

“I don’t think you can fucking do it,” Mike said.

“Ohhhhh!” Butch hollered when Buttercup lost her temper and threw the ball too hard. It bounced off Todd’s beard and fell on the floor, leaving the last cup untouched.

“Mike, you cheater!” Buttercup shouted.

Mike burst out laughing.

“All riiiiight, the Toddster’s final shot. You filming, babe?” Todd asked.

Hana, across the table from Boomer, had her phone out and poised. “Kick their asses, Toddy.”

“Yeah, bring it on, Toddy,” Butch jeered.

“Oh, it’s about to be brought.”

“Oh god, please, you peaked in high school,” Buttercup said.

“Hey, he plateaued,” Mike said. “There’s a difference.”

“Just take the damn shot!”

Todd shot, hit the rim of the solo cup, and missed. Buttercup and Butch threw up their hands and whooped. They were still in the game, and the stakes were even higher now.

Boomer squeezed Mike’s arm in a silent excuse and went to change the music…only to find Brick and Blossom making out in the hallway like it was their last night on Earth.

The music was fine, he decided. No need to interrupt Brick and Blossom trying to fuse with the wall and face his brother’s cock blocked wrath. Discreetly, Boomer snapped a picture on his phone and texted it to Bubbles.

[Boomer: Shooketh]

Bubbles’ reply was lightning fast.

[Bubbles: More like shattered!!]

[Bubbles: Better get out of there before they catch you lol 💀]

After another hour (and Brick and Blossom’s reemergence from the wall in one piece with not a hair out of place because god forbid), Boomer and Mike decided to head out early. They went back to Boomer’s apartment, where a very excited Pomeranian welcomed them home.

“Hi, Pumpkin!” Mike brightened like the sun and scooped up his favorite girl, left in Boomer’s care while he was away at college. “Who’s ready for a walk?”

They walked Pumpkin and let her tire herself out running around the suburban neighborhood where it was too late at night for any cars to be out. A half hour later, they were curled up on the loveseat with Pumpkin snoozing in her fuzzy bed at their feet and an old black-and-white Christmas movie playing on low volume on the television.

“Hey,” Boomer said, lifting his head from Mike’s chest to look at him properly.

Mike set aside the hot chocolate he’d been drinking and pulled Boomer up by his waist. “Hey, you. What is it?”

Boomer smiled. It was silly, really. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh?” Mike returned his smile and leaned closer. He smelled like soap, a hint of chocolate, and something else that made Boomer want to bury his face in his neck.

“Just happy,” Boomer said.

“Really? I can’t tell.”

Boomer sat up a little higher. The neck of Mike’s old lacrosse jersey he wore dipped down his shoulder, too big on him and softer than a cloud. He pressed a chaste kiss to the underside of Mike’s jaw. “How about now?”

“Hm, nope, I don’t think I quite got that.”

Boomer threaded his fingers though Mike’s short, dark hair at the nape of his neck. Feeling coquettish, he gave his ear a nip. “How about now?”

Mike shifted on the couch and pulled Boomer’s bent legs onto his lap. His voice was as warm as the hot chocolate he’d been drinking. “I think I’m starting to get a vague understanding.”

Boomer laughed and painted a trail of kisses along Mike’s jaw, up his chin. He pressed a strong hand to his chest and put a little power behind it. Centimeters apart, he could taste the lingering heat of the hot chocolate on Mike’s breath. “And now?”

Mike’s eyes drooped and darkened. His hands slipped around Boomer’s waist, under the jersey, a silent entreaty. “I think you can do a little better than that, Angel.”

The secret nickname broke Boomer’s resolve, and he kissed his boyfriend full on the mouth with all the confidence and shamelessness he couldn’t give him that morning at the mall surrounded by children and their parents. Mike’s shirt soon found its way to the floor along with Boomer’s borrowed jersey. The loveseat was too short to accommodate Mike’s height comfortably, and after a few moments Boomer held him close and flew them to the bed in a flash.

“I’ll never get over how hot that is,” Mike said, breathless.

Boomer blushed, unable to help it. He was careful with his strength around Mike, but sometimes the X bonded to his bones pushed him to the raw, carnal boundaries of humanity. Mike’s hand on his cheek drew him out of those spiraling thoughts.

“I mean it,” Mike said. “I love that part of you. And I trust you completely.”

Words did not come easily, nor did they seem appropriate in that moment. Boomer bent to kiss Mike again and pull him as close as he could get. Wrapped up in the warm sheets and each other, Boomer’s silly little thought that he had never been happier grew and swelled to heights he never could have imagined before Mike. They lay there together, lazy and sleepy, as the credits of their forgotten holiday movie played on the television.

“One more semester,” Mike said, “and then I graduate.”

“I can’t believe you’re almost a college graduate,” Boomer said. “It feels like you left ages ago.”

“Four years is a long time, but it’s not forever. And you should get ready.”

Boomer looked up at him. “Ready for what?”

“To move, of course.”

“Move?”

“Hey, I love how cozy your apartment is, but I’m pretty sure Pumpkin would appreciate her own room once we’re living together full time.”

Boomer sat up properly. “You… You want to move in together? With me?”

“Of course! The only question is, where do you want to go?”

Boomer covered his mouth. Of course he had thought about getting a place with Mike, but that always seemed like the distant future. What if they didn’t stay together? What if the long distance was too hard? What if Mike met someone else at college? Brick didn’t talk about it much, but after a few too many drinks one night the year Blossom and Mike both left for college, he’d confessed how afraid he was that he would lose her forever. How can the old be exciting and fun compared to the amazing, new adventures she would be having?

But from the way Boomer had caught them all but absorbing each other at Todd’s tonight, Blossom seemed perfectly happy to keep him. And Mike…

“You’re serious,” Boomer said.

“I’ve never been more serious.” Mike took his hand and kissed his knuckles carefully. “I can’t wait to start our lives together.”

Boomer could have cried. He almost did. Life was hard, even for a Super like him. With endless bills to pay and the occasional monster to dispose of, sometimes he felt like he was being pulled in too many directions without anyone there to help pick up the slack. But this… This was his.

“Me too,” Boomer said. “And I don’t care where we go, as long as it’s together.”

“Well, cool. In that case, if you’re not opposed to it, was thinking farther north, like Metroville. There are some great photography jobs there that I want to apply for, and the music scene is bigger than it is here—”

“Yes! A hundred percent yes, let’s do it. When do we leave?”

Mike laughed. “June 1st, as soon as they hand me my diploma.”

Six months. It had a date now. Unthinking, Boomer threw his arms around Mike’s broad shoulders and hugged him tight. “I’ll mark my calendar.”

“It’s a date.”

Incidentally, they did not get much sleep the rest of that night.

xxx

I told myself I wasn’t going to do a ton of fluff, but damnit all, Boomike is SUPER CUTE and I couldn’t help myself. Let them have the happy ending they deserve. Thanks for reading!

[yyuangss-main]

FRECKLES | t.yamaguchi

A soulmate au where you and your beloved have a matching physical trait. You’re oblivious to the fact Yamaguchi is your soulmate but he isn’t and knows what the matching trait is. Another x reader where you, the amazing reader, is a part of the cheer club at Karasuno.

Warnings: Minor spoilers for the Manga Word Count: 1.3k+

A matching physical trait that only you and your soulmate have. Visible to the pair and once you’d meet, you would know. Yamaguchi spent his childhood wondering what his trait was. There wasn’t anything special about him, only the freckles scattered across his face. Well, baby Yamaguchi didn’t find anything special in that either due to the bullying from it.

Until he made it to high school. There on your face, were the same freckles he stayed staring at in the mirror and being insecure from them. Your giant smile and surrounding friends showed you had it better than him growing up. He scampered to the side of the hallway, watching in awe as you walked by.

He knew nothing about you. Not your name, your year, your class. And he was too shy to figure anything out himself. He’d send Tsukishima but he was scared you’d end up falling for him instead. The troubles of being a first year.

You’d spoken to him once but that didn’t go so well.

“Hurry up! We’re gonna be late for practice again!” You’d marched into his class, talking to the girl who sat next to him.

“Okay okay! My pom pom fell out.” She’d stuffed it back into her bag, similar to the one you had. So you were part of the cheer club here? If only the cheerleaders would come to the volleyball games.

“Ugh. Does she usually take this long?” He was caught off guard by your loving smile you offered to anyone.

“Don’t answer that!” Your friend gave him a fake glare, the two of you giggling about his red face. Had you seen his freckles? Did you notice the two of you were soulmates? He should run over to you and say how happy he was to finally find you. But he wasn’t.

So instead, Yamaguchi admired you from the sidelines all throughout year one and year two. Craning his neck around the corners, keeping an eye on you as you walked by, and shying his face away when you’d look in his direction. When was he going to grow the courage it took to talk to you? One more year and you’d slip out of his hands for possibly ever!

When year three came about, Yamaguchi felt like a new person. He was captain of the volleyball club, girls had taken interest in him, and gained confidence over the summer.

Yamaguchi was sitting on the rooftop, back pressed on the grey wall built to hold the school, unwrapping his lunch bag. Tsukishima told him to go on without him and they would meet up. After taking his lunch out, he got his phone to ask where Hinata was at.

“Are you Yamaguchi Tadashi?” A soft voice asked, making his head shift upwards in the direction of it. The freckles on his cheeks reflected back at him, displayed on a feminine face. You were bent over enough so your skirt wouldn’t ride up. Your lips curved up into the same smile he fanned about the past two years. He’s sorry to say this but he seriously forgot about you.

“Uhm, yes. That’s me.” He slyly put his phone in his pocket.

“Oh good!” You crouched down, hands clenching the fabric at your knees. “I’m (L/N) (Y/N). Call me (Y/N).”

“Hi.” He replied awkwardly, wondering what this was about.

“I hear you’re the captain of the boys volleyball. Is that true?” He nodded with a hum. “Well, I’m the captain of the cheer club! Each year we choose a sport to cheer for. My past two here have been basketball which is overrated.” You rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue.

He felt himself smile at this sight.

“Anyways. It’s my turn to pick and I’d really like to do the volleyball club. Usually we have to speak to the captains and see if it’s okay with them. Which is you,” You pointed at him, “So, if it’s alright, can we cheer for you guys this year? Please? It’ll give us the opportunity for new uniforms.” Yamaguchi’s fingernails scratched the back of his scalp.

“Well… What do we get out of it?”

“Us cheering you guys on silly!” You grinned, shifting your position so your knees were touching the ground and you were sitting on your calves. Oh. Yamaguchi blushed in embarrassment. “My idea for this year is each player gets a personal cheerleader. And a chant that includes everyone’s name in it. A work in progress.” You said.

“It doesn’t seem so bad to me.” Yamaguchi mumbled.

“Really!” You leaned into his face, eyes wide with admiration. “So it’s okay with you?” Once again, the red face caused by how close you two were.

“Yes.” He said out meekly.

“Thank you so much Yamaguchi!” You said. “I promise my girls and I won’t let you down! I’ll be stopping by after school to get all the team members names and numbers.”

Your new uniforms consisted of a jersey with the names and numbers of corresponding players given to the cheerleaders. You got rid of those itchy black turtlenecks and replaced them with long sleeve v-lines with the black and orange jersey on top.

“Hey Yamaguchi!” You waved, the rest of the cheerleaders following behind you. “We got our new uniforms thanks to you.” Yamaguchi awed,

“I’m glad I could help.” He said shyly.

“Wow (Y/N)! You guys look amazing!” Yachi and Hinata said in sync.

“Oh wait. Look at this!” You back peddled, getting in a line with the girls. You spun on your heel, revealing your back to the team. “Ta-da!” The white letters ‘YAMAGUCHI’ and number ‘1’ showed themselves off. Next came the other team members, ‘KAGEYAMA’ and ‘2’, ‘TSUKISHIMA’ and ‘3’.

“We had to make funds for this to happen but we all liked the idea and weren’t going to pass up for it.” Your friend, who was the vice captain and the girl who was in Yamaguchi’s year one class, said. She had Kageyama’s name on her jersey. “I can’t wait for this year.”

“In my opinion it’s tacky.” Tsukishima shrugged, pushing his glasses up with his pointer finger.

“I feel sorry for whoever has to cheer for you then.” Kageyama glared, initiating a discussion between them that Hinata and Yachi tried to break apart. You eavesdropped, doing your best not to laugh.

Over the talking of cheerleaders and volleyball players, the fighting between Kageyama-Tsukishima extending to Hinata and a panicking Yachi, Yamaguchi felt like he was in year one again and seeing you for the first time.

“What’s up Yama?” You dropped your arms to your sides. His hands pressed the volleyball harder.

“Nothing…” He ushered away, heart pounding against his chest. He liked seeing you wear his last name. “I’m just ready for this season to start.”

The season ended as quickly as it started for the volleyball club, placing third in nationals. It was a wild season, especially with the cheer club on their side. The best thing about it though, was Yamaguchi getting closer to you.

Maybe it still wasn’t obvious that you guys were soulmates. Or maybe you two didn’t have the same amount of freckles. But he felt so attracted to you. If he’d already seen yours, shouldn’t some weird soulmate thingy start going on?

Yamaguchi found himself on the rooftop during lunch alone again. Tsukishima wasn’t at school, Hinata accompanied Kageyama to get milk, and Yachi was tutoring two second years. He fixed his surroundings, moving the lunch boxes that were beside him out of his way.

He heard the clicking of shoes and he glanced up. You were crouching over the same way when you met him.

“Hey!” He brightly spoke out first this time.

“Hey Yamaguchi. I have a question for you.” You squatted down, eyebrows furrowed like you were focused on something.

“Okay. What is it?” Yamaguchi stubly wiped his face, hoping nothing was on it.

“How many freckles do you have?”

[gh0stlyfixation]

Plot: Elijah is your teacher and you are his student. You cheer for the state team at your university and Elijah admits his feelings for you.

Mr. Elijah Mikaelson was your college English teacher. He was a calm guy who obviously knew a lot. He was hot and every girl knew. They all wanted in his pants, you won't say that you did also, but you recognize it won't happen, you lived on with your life.

You were a cheerleader for the state football team and as the last big game of the season on Friday night, you had to wear nice clothes. You chose a dress. You were the only cheerleader in all of Elijah's classes as the rest of the cheerleaders were in a lower English class.

Elijah was your last class of your Friday and you always came in early for a good seat. "Hi, Mr. Mikaelson." You spoke sweetly.

"Hello Miss Y/N. How are you?" He asked with a grin.

"I'm excited about tonight's game. Are you coming tonight to support us?" You inquired.

He smiled, "Football isn't my thing." He said as he shook his head no. In reality, he wanted to watch you the whole night but he wouldn’t get you out of his mind after watching you dance. He’s seen how the Cobra cheerleaders dance before, now that it was you doing it was a whole other ball game for him, literally.

"Oh please?" You said with a frown and puppy dog eyes.

Little did you know, Elijah would do anything for you. He had a huge likening to you. He thought you were brilliant and sexy. Keeping his smile, he spoke, "fine."

You beamed, "yes!" He chuckled at your reaction. He adored it.

The class came and went and before you knew, it was over, "Y/N can I see you in my office after class?" He pronounced as you packed your bag up. You nodded and headed off to his office and looked around it.

You saw his bookshelves and began looking at them waiting for his appearance. You picked up a book and studied it. "You like that one?" He uttered, startling you causing you to drop the book.

Your back stilled faced him as you bent over to get the book completely oblivious to his staring at your behind that was cover only by blue lace underwear.

You turned around and looked at him and spoke, "I do. May I borrow it?" You asked, blushing that he caught you snooping around.

"Of course." He said clearing his throat focusing back to you.

He walked over to his desk and quickly sat down to cover his now erection. You walked over to the side of his desk, "what is it you wanted to talk about?" You questioned as you positioned yourself to sit on the desk with your legs crossed.

"I have a confession to make." He spoke.

You tilted your head as now your full attention was on him, "yes?" You asked

"I'm Infatuated with you." He confessed. You never did anything for this man to want you. "Oh." You said simply.

"I know I shouldn't be but I just can't get you out of my head." He said as he turned his seat to face you.

You looked into his eyes and out of know where you stood up and straddled his lap and kissed him. This was the perfect moment. The kiss didn't stop, I fact it got deeper. But he stopped and you whined, "you have a game to prepare for." He smirked.

"Come early? Watch me practice at the stadium? I’ll reserve the family section seats for you?" You asked

"I'll be in the front row." He smirked.

And he was in front row with the other family members who were excited to see there loved ones. You had changed out from the dress into spandex shorts and a long shirt that you had tied in a knot so your belly button pecked.

Elijah was glad you felt the same he was lucky, but it had to be a secret, something he knew wouldn't be a big deal for both as you will graduate next week.

Elijah saw you walk onto the track towards the field with a bottle of water in hand smiling with a friend. Instantly he perked up, watching you and melting over what you wore.

He watched the 20+ cheerleaders get in form, you in the front with your Pom poms in hand as you counted. He assumed you were the leader. You moved effortlessly and the whole time you danced you stared at him with a devilish look. You were still thinking about the kiss that turned into more. You want more.

He couldn't take his eyes off you. As the night went on you grew tired and just wanted to see Elijah. Eventually, the game was over and your team had won. There was an after-party but you just wanted to get out of the uniform.

You walked out of the locker room with your gym bag and fetched your keys. You figured Elijah would have left, but we're surprised to see him standing next to your car in the team lot.

"Well hello, stranger." You spoke with a smile.

"Hello love." He said as he kissed your lips. "Do you have plans tonight?" He asked.

"Go home and sleep. Why? Do you have something better in mind?" You asked.

"Why don't you come over tonight?" He asked.

"I'll have to think about it." You said pretending to think. He smiled, "follow me to my place." He spoke as he got in his car that was right next to yours.

You hopped into your car and followed him. He lived in a large and lavish house. You could tell he was rich. It got you thinking why he wanted someone like you. Someone who's just starting in life. You gathered your stuff as Elijah opened your door. You smiled and thank him. And walked behind him to his door.

You two walked to the kitchen and he sat down pulling you on his lap. "I want to discuss something first." He spoke.

"What is it?" You asked as you wrapped your arm around his neck and crosses your ankles together.

"I want you to know that I genuinely like you. I don't want you to think that I'm just using you." He spoke. You nodded not knowing what to say. "Okay?" He questioned.

"Okay." You spoke. You moved so you straddled him like you did earlier and grabbed his face and began to kiss him

[mhdiaries]

Journal of Clawd Wolf

If you can’t be honorable then be smart and keep your snout out of my journal.

September the 18th

I don’t think I’ve ever been hit in a game as hard as I got hit last night and oh monster was I sore this morning. We won the game which makes the pain a little more bearable. The worst part was I saw the hit coming and had to stand there and take it. The play was 13 Weak Bootleg Goblin - I made a perfect fake and rolled right which fooled everybody on the defense except the ogre playing outside linebacker who hit me as soon as the pass left my hand. Not only did he hit me, he drove me into the turf and landed on top of me. The only thing worse than the hit was the ogre stink that came with it. When I say stink I mean he smelled like the inside of a rubber boot filed with stinky cheese and raw fish that had been left in the trunk of a black car during the hottest week of summer. I’m sure I probably notice it more being a werewolf because of my enhanced sense of smell but I honestly think ogres must turn up their scent glands for games. I couldn’t even see how the play turned out because he’s laying on top of me yelling “How’d you like that wolf boy?” Then I hear the crowd going crazy and I just said, “Scoreboard.” Funny how the pain goes away, at least momentarily, when you complete a big play. Of course on the field you never want to let another monster know they hurt you... just like real life.

September the 21st

Rockseena chewed up a pair of Clawdeen’s shoes. Clawdeen accused Howleen, in Clawdeen’s defense it did kind of look like Howleen’s work, and I had to break up the fight and fork over some cash so Clawdeen could replace them. There goes my money for the month. Why are girl’s shoes so howling expensive?

October the 1st

I went to the furmatologist to see if he could do something about my shedding problem, which seems to be getting worse lately. It’s so screeching embarrassing I don’t even want to wear short sleeve shirts any more. Of course being a werewolf means it grows back as fast as it falls out so I’ve got an endless supply. I’m like a hairy snow globe. Anyway, I wish I could say that I walked away with a solution, cream, pill or heroic quest that would allow me to finally leave the house without a lint brush but that didn’t happen. The doctor said that some werewolves are genetically afflicted with this and that there is no cure. He gave me some ideas on how to manage the condition and a pamphlet about a support group. I was like, “A support group?” Come on monster, give me a break. The last thing i want to do is spend an evening hanging out in some back room at a community center listening to other werewolves howl about fur loss. I’ve just got to monster up and deal with it. What i wouldn’t give to switch problems with Clawdeen.

October the 7th

Somebody at Monster High is trying to reopen old tombs regarding Cleo’s past relationship with me and by “some body” I mean Spectra Vondergeist. I probably should have ignored it but I didn’t. I found her and told her to knock it off since she didn’t know what she was talking about, she called me a dumb jock, I called her a lying phantom and she wailed a path across the school pretesting her innocence and demanding an apology. We both ended up in the Headmistress’s office where I was lectured about the “responsibility of being an example to younger monsters who look up to me.” She told Spectra to stop involving the whole school whenever she has a problem and that almost caused her to go off again but she managed to keep it together.  I know every monster wants to know what happened but it’s really none of their business.

October the 12th

HH Bloodgood has decided that every monster in school has to write an essay on our haunted heritage. She wants to put them all in a big book and pass it out to the students at the end of the year. In her words this will “better help you to understand yourselves and your fellow monsters.” I’m not so sure about the “understand yourselves” part but it might be interesting to read about my “fellow monsters.” I need to ask dad and mom how much information I’m allowed to give since there are some things we don’t talk about outside the pack. Our history is written in the Valde Lupus Libri and even within the book there are sections I’m not allowed to read until I have a pack of my own. One of those sections tells what happened to cause the bad blood between werewolves and vampires. I asked dad about it one time and he just gave me “the look” so I let it go. I can probably write about the things every monster already knows; like how during the full moon our senses get sharper while our strength and speed doubles or how we’re allergic to sive and wolf’s bane. We’re not undead so we don’t live forever, but 400+ years isn’t just a drop in the coffin either. I guess I could also put down where we’re from and how our original alpha became a werewolf but I definitely need to get permission before giving out that kind of info.

October the 18th

The stink from my confrontation with Spectra continues to linger and today I had to stop Clawdeen from going after Cleo because Clawdeen still thinks Cleo dumped me for Deuce and broke my heart. That’s not how it happened so I told Clawdeen the real story. When Cleo and I first started going out I had just been voted captain of the football team and Cleo had taken over her sister Nefera’s spot as captain of the fear squad. I was the BMOC - Big Monster on Campus and she was Her Royal Hawtness. It was like living the perfect nightmare. Even then I think we were enjoying the attention more than the relationship. We were friends, still are in fact, but the spark just wasn’t there. There was a spark between her and Deuce though. You couldn’t help but see it when they were around each other. I confess I was a little jealous but I soon got over that as our perfect nightmare suddenly came to an end. My wake up call came in the form of a season where we lost every game but one and I completed more passes to the other team than I did to my own. For Cleo, it was thinking she could just pick up her sister’s pom poms and not miss a fear except she was so bossy half the team quit and the half that stayed just did their own thing. We probably would have broken up then but the thought of adding any more drama to what was already going on was too much to think about. So we stayed together and kind of leaned on each other through it all. Eventually I started to make better decisions on the field and Cleo learned that leadership involved more than barking orders. So on the night before the last game of the year we decided to break up. Cleo told me that she knew Deuce wanted to ask her out but didn’t dare because she was still dating me and that she wouldn’t say yes for the same reason. That was that, except Cleo wanted to be able to tell everyone she broke it off because she didn’t want anyone thinking that the captain of the fear squad got dumped. I told her I wouldn’t lie about what happened but I wouldn’t say anything to contradict it either. Looking back I think it was dumb on her part to care so much about social status and it was equally dumb on my part to be “heroic” about it. When I finished, Clawdeen called me a monster jerk, punched me in the arm and then gave me a hug. Girls are so weird.

October the 25th

I’ve got a pretty big test in Biteology coming soon and since it’s impossible to find a quiet spot in our house I went to the library to study. I finished up there and just as I was leaving a storm blew in and it started raining. The temperature came down with the rain and by the time I got to my car I could already see my breath. On the way home my sweet fang started to howl so I stopped at this coffee place and grabbed a large coffinccino with whip cream cause, you know, that’s what I like. I got about a half mile down the road when I couldn’t find my iCoffin so I pulled over to see if it had fallen in between the seats. As I was looking for it I happened to glance across the street and saw this freaky cute monster standing on the sidewalk. It was raining pretty hard by then and I couldn’t quite make out her face. I rolled down the window just as the wind changed direction and for a brief moment I caught the scent of nightshade and lilac shampoo. Draculaura? I got out and yelled her name. She looked up and I said to myself, “Oh monster, what’s she doing out in this weather without a coat or umbrella?” Good thing dad always keeps one of his “eventuality” kits in his car with everything a monster might need in an emergency, including one of those compact umbrellas. I grabbed it and ran across the street where Draculaura was standing. Ordinarily I would have cracked some kind of joke but she looked so miserable I just opened the umbrella and helped her back to the car. Once we got in I handed her the coffinccino and turned up the heater. We sat there for a moment with the car running and I asked her if she wanted me to take her home. She nodded and I drove her back to her house. They don’t have a covered drive so I walked her up to the door and made sure she got in. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and darted inside before I could say anything which is a good thing because it felt like I’d been hit by that ogre again only all I could smell this time was nightshade and lilacs. After I got home mom asked me where I’d been. When I told her the library she just looked at me and said, “If you say so.” I thought that was weird until I caught my reflection in the hall mirror and saw a perfect imprint of lips in Draculaura red.

[youdontloveme-yet]

Episode 8 analysis.

This is going to be messy, so brace yourselves. It took me 3 hours to completely analyze this episode, so if there are spelling mistakes fuck you, I’m tired and idc.

This is going to be intensely FULL OF SPOILERS, so whoever has not watched episode 8, better not read.

Okay, let’s start off with a warning. The series is heavily based on numbers and symbolism, which means that if you are not a huge fan of math, logical thinking and finding shit where nobody else is seeing it, it may once again not be your cup of tea.

Well then, have fun with this thing that wasted my brain for 3 hours.

Okay, first scene is tricky, I went back to it a few times throughout the episode, because it wasn’t adding up. We have this tied up man, being thrown in a burning barrel, right? Yeah, so this is basically where the flashback starts. Not when Supot starts talking or anything. This is a heavily symbolic scene again, as it represents us with the meaning of oppression. If one pays attention, it is explained later in the episode. The symbolism behind it is the oppression of minorities. It all starts back in 1984, when the people with special abilities had just been noticed and were heavily oppressed. Supot talks about how at the beginning it had been very hard for those of their kind, since they have been oppressed. And those who were not useful or were troublemakers were immediately being disposed of. Because we all know that humans go to extremes when they are afraid of things they do not understand.

While we are at it, and since I am not really going to do this in chronological order. This is where the flashback starts and where it comes to a conclusion. It is the exact same burning barrel as the one where Yuth supposedly dies. I’ll probably mention it again along the way.

Aside from the flashback we have a very interesting take on Pang and Supot’s conversation and later on young Supot and the minister. Idk if anybody has noticed the camera angles in this episode. They are quite important. First we have the room with the black board, where Supot and Pang are talking. The camera angle is slightly to the left, with Pang’s back facing us and Supot facing him, this, in my opinion, is a symbolism for who has the upper hand in the situation. You might think that I’m crazy and this is just reading too much into, but it’s not, because there is the exact same parallel with young Supot and the minister. Of course, later on in the episode we have the exact opposite, which is the minister having the upper hand and Supot slowly gaining the upper hand from Pang.

And the opposite:

Notice how much smaller young Supot and Pang look and how the minister and Supot suddenly seem more in focus :))

The next thing I am going to talk about is the number symbolism in this episode. The whole episode is based on the number 2. Everything starts in 1984, right? Then we have 1986, when  young Supot marches into the ministry. After that we have 1988, when they conduct their experiments. Fun numbers, right? Except there’s nothing fun here. It’s a number sequence – 4, 6, 8, and after 8 is 10, which in this case is 0. And which year is in the present? 2020. Now, you may think that this is just some game that the writers did or something, but it ain’t, sorry. The number 2 is in literally everything this episode. We have Supot and Yuth, who are 2 people, right? From here comes the cursed pattern, my dudes. They come in pairs of 2 – SupotYuth, ChanonPom, PangWave. Except that ChanonPom are an alternation to the pattern, which means we are back to the number 2. I’ll talk about this along the way, but let me finish with the numbers, before I forget my thoughts again. According to google the number 2 is a symbol of partnership and balance, but sometimes it may also be the symbol of opposition or conflict. Every single major event in this episode (’84, ’86, ’88) happen two years apart from each. Then in the house scene when Yuth disappears, we have two plates on the table, who are flipped upside down and a half empty/full plate, which for me, is symbolism for the two pairs that have fallen and the one (PangWave) that is on the line, meaning there’s a 50/50 chance 

history will repeat itself. I’ll come back to this scene again.

The next thing I’m going to talk about is why ChanonPom are an alternation. Well, WELCOME TO THE PARALLEL HELL! SupotYuth = PangWave. I know, I know, you all know that. But did you know that Yuth had the same potential as Wave? Less evolved, but the same regardless. Remember that scene in the house, when the phone rang and Yuth ran off? Yeah, that was Yuth. He can manipulate sound waves I guess, as it was foreshadowed with the whole sound equipment he was using for his and Supot’s experiment and we all know that that is how they tell us about their potentials. Now, this is not even all of it. The basic is: the leader, who can manipulate thoughts and the co-leader who can control technology. Okay, from here, we have the parallel of using their powers on each other. Supot had used his powers on Yuth (Pom also uses his powers on Chanon, even though they are an alternation to the pattern), and even though he doesn’t continue with the experiment, we know that he has used it. And remember the scene, when they are eating and Supot grabs Yuth’s hand? Yeah, that is a parallel with when Wave said to Time that Pang could use his ability on him, but wouldn’t, because Yuth makes Supot confirm that he will never use his potential on him. Yes, I know it is not exact parallel, but it cannot be one, because there are many more variable into the equation in the present, than there were in the past. Okay, here I am not that certain, but I think there is one more parallel. As we all know, nobody in this fucking series dies, so Yuth was not killed, he faked his death. Now, you may ask, where is the parallel with PangWave? Oh, man, it’s in season 1. When Wave faked the whole thing with leaking the Gifted information. They are parallels, because the aim of both actions are to provoke their partner to take action.

On a side note, or not really. You might wonder why I think that Yuth faked his death. Well, many, many reasons. A person cannot die to fire as fast is the first, because we are led to believe that he got killed and thrown into that barrel, right? Which is incorrect on so many levels. As I said, a nobody can die as fast from fire. But what if he got shot and thrown in, you might ask? Well, human flesh burns kind of slow and creates shit load of smoke, which was not there. Then there’s the fact that that barrel is not nearly big enough for fit a whole body, in order to do so, one will have to cut the body in parts. Next we have the neatly put glasses on the ground. No fucking cracks on them. Very suspicious. Fuck that, but they have metal frames, which upon contact with the ground should get disfigured. Another thing is that the only possible way for those glasses to be that intact is if the height from which they are dropped is below 1 meter, as we know that is not the case. Another tell tale sign is when young Supot is at the ministry and the minister asks WHEN he got there, which means it was not him who called, which also means that my theory about Yuth’s potential is cementing itself. He also asked WHICH friend and confirmed that he has no idea what Supot is talking about. So, basically Yuth has the same potential as Wave and faked his death.

I think that by now, you can see why ChanonPom is an alternation to the pattern.

Anyway, the next thing I want to mention is the similarities between Supot, Chanon and Pang. I’m going to start off with saying that all of them are very complex characters with very intense inner struggles. Starting from Supot, we have this bright young man, who has a vision, right? Well, he has a god complex. He is obsessed with his vision and disregards his loved ones and morals, because of his ideals and what he believes in. He is also very patriotic and self absorbed, which are all red flags for someone who has a god complex. He is convinced he can change the country and leave a legacy. And in his pursuit, he loses every single thing. Guess who else loses everything? Both Chanon and Pang. But here comes the difference. They are all the same basically, but they have the variables to the equation that is the Gifted program, while in the past Supot just shot in the dark with nothing but trial and error. Chanon and Pang have hero complex. Both want to save the people they love and keep them safe, which leads them to fucking shit up even more. And while Chanon is an alternation, Pang is steadily threading in Supot’s footsteps.

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention about the ChanonPom alternation. They have switched roles, as you have already guessed. That is why they are the alternation to this beautiful pattern.

I have definitely not covered everything, but these were the most important parts of this episode. The whole thing was a weird foreshadowing.

Also, I am still not entirely convinced it was the ministry that leaked the information about the program, because it seems too obvious honestly. Yeah, the minister smiles when he sees the news, but like it bugs me… They either leaked it themselves, or enabled the A.G. or Darin coerced Punn to do it. It’s just too easy if it’s the ministry. And I think that it was done in order to lure Supot out.

I decided to not write down the whole psychological analysis I did of the characters, but rather do it another day in a post dedicated only on that.

Ah, before I finish. If somebody may be wondering what is on this board:

It’s the sound sequence that triggers the Gifted cells.

Huge fucking thanks to @thegiftedseries-incorrect-quotes​ and  @wxsuthorn​ for brainstorming with me and reading my crazy shit. 

So, peace and thank you for coming to my TED talk. Byeeeeee.

[hawkinshellfire]

Right Where You Left Me

Chapter 6 - The Last Time 

TW: Abusive Parents 

All roads, they lead me here

I imagine you are home

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

Hop, We need to talk.  Meet me on the field after the game tonight.  Joyce

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

The week following the party, Joyce finds herself in a strange place. She hadn’t spoken to Hopper, she was being actively pursued by Lonnie Byers and she found herself waving to a few of her peers in the hallway, something she never would have done a few weeks prior. 

Joyce never bothered with getting to know her classmates. She had Josie and Eli to enjoy her lunch with and she had Hopper. Now that she and Hopper were no longer speaking, she assumed she would just muddle through on her own. She was surprised to discover herself instead making friends. She isn’t sure she enjoys the concept, but she figures it’s worth pursuing until she decides she’d rather be on her own. For now, she didn’t mind having to say hello to a few of her classmates. 

Lonnie Byers was another story. He was clearly interested in her and while Josie had been right and there was a certain spark between them, it just wasn’t right. She was interested in her best friend. Even if those feelings went unreciprocated, she wasn’t looking for something serious with anyone else. This was one of those problems, she decided, that could also be put off until it absolutely needed to be dealt with. In the meantime, she would keep him around for some fun. 

She knows she should probably cut him loose, yet something about the way Hopper’s jaw clenched when he saw them together prevented her from telling Lonnie she wasn’t interested. It was wrong, but she couldn’t help herself from wanting Hopper to feel the way she did when she saw him with Chrissy. 

Ever since her party, Hopper had been skipping out on science class, which initially annoys her but later she decides that it’s probably for the best. She has no clue what she plans on saying to him the next time she sees him. As more time passes, she begins to regret slapping him. 

Their kiss left her feeling confused and upset, but more than anything, being with Hopper reminded her of how much she missed spending time with him. After much deliberation, she decides that she can’t stand losing Hopper and that she is willing to forget about everything that happened between them if it meant they could be friends again. 

She valued her friendship far more than her anger, which is why on Friday, she decides to leave a note in his locker asking to meet him after the game. 

And now, here she is, standing on the bleachers in her acid wash jeans and leather jacket, cheering for the Hawkins High football team. She feels out of place in her dark coloured clothes. It seems the students around her are all dressed in some type green and orange spirit wear and she wonders if it was some kind of unwritten rule that you wore school colours to the game. She hopes not, green was not a colour suited for many people. 

Though she and Hopper had been friends for all of high school, she’d never once attended one of his games. Sometimes, after the game ended, he would come over and tell her about his favourite parts, though he never pushed her to come and she had no interest in standing on the bleachers with a crowd of unfamiliar faces. 

Even tonight, she debated not showing up. She wasn’t sure he’d received her letter, or if he would bother meeting her and her father had just about lost his mind when she told him that she was going out. 

.

.

After checking herself over in the mirror and fixing up her red lipstick, Joyce grabs her bookbag and heads for the door. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” her father barks from where he’s seated in a recliner opposite the stairs. He’s facing the television, and not her, but she can tell by the heaviness in his voice that he’s been drinking. 

“Out,” she tells him, offering no details. 

“Out where? You have a curfew.”

“I’ll be back before curfew,” she lies. 

He stands, slowly, places his bowl of chips on the overcrowded side table, sending an assortment of newspapers scattering to the floor and he approaches her. 

“Where?” he demands. “Where did you get that? No doubt your mother taught you how to do that,” he says, pointing to her red lips, “No daughter of mine is going out looking like a whore.”

She considers telling him that it’s only lipstick but instead opts to wipe it off on the back of her hand. It leaves her knuckles stained red and she wishes she’d packed the tube of lipstick in her bag so that she could reapply it once she left. She did steal it from her mother, who was conveniently out of town for work. Joyce doubted she would even know it was missing. 

“Where ya off to anyways?” her father demands to know. He stays leaning on the back of the recliner as Joyce edges closer and closer to the door, desperate to get going and escape his nonsensical line of questioning. 

“There’s a football game at the school,” she explains. 

“You don’t even like sports,” he huffs. 

“I’m meeting some friends.”

“I doubt anyone would miss you if you stayed home and vacuumed.”

“I’ll do it tomorrow. I promise,” Joyce tells him. Before he has time to make another remark, she slips out the front door and slams it behind her. She knows he won’t follow after her, he’s too lazy. Instead, he’ll mutter to himself about how disrespectful she is and he’ll plop himself back in the chair that she’ll find him asleep in when she returns home. 

“They’d miss me,” she mumbles to herself as she begins her walk to the school. She wasn’t exactly meeting friends, but if she was, they’d miss her. She was certain they would. She liked to think that she was the type of person that would be missed. Some days, she believed that no one would know if she vanished. Other days, she was determined to believe that even she would be missed. 

She wipes the red from her hand onto her bag and curses at herself for not packing the lipstick. 

.

.

Watching the crowd around her, Joyce feels a sense of calm and belonging. Everyone was chanting and waving, excitedly jumping up and down as the cheerleaders lining the track wave their pom-poms in the air. Joyce spots Chrissy and her heart sinks. She’s dressed in her tiny pleated green skirt and matching crop top, with her curly blonde hair pinned back in a green hair tie and she has sparkles on her eyelids that make Joyce cringe. Chrissy catches Joyce’s eye and smirks before joining in on the ridiculously over peppy song being sung by her peers. 

No wonder Hopper was interested in her. Her uniform was practically non-existent. 

Joyce leans back against the wooden plank making up the bleachers and pulls out a cigarette. Mr. Samson had scolded her for smoking in the stands when she first arrived, but he was long gone and she needed a cigarette if she was going to make it through this game. Besides, she and Hopper sometimes ditched fifth and sixth period to share cigarettes beneath the bleachers all the time, she didn’t see what was so different about smoking on them. 

After relaxing a bit, Joyce watches the commotion unfold around her as the team takes the field. She recognizes Hopper by his jersey number, 11, and follows him as he crosses the field in a slow jog until reaching his teammates on the sidelines. Crossing one ankle over the other, she stays seated while everyone around her erupts in cheers and prays that football games are short. Mr. Samson returns to scold her for smoking twice during the first quarter, but each time she rolls her eyes and pretends that she can’t hear him over the roar of the crowd. 

.

.

In the locker room before the game, Hopper places his shoulder pads over his head and fastens the strap around his side. 

The team was buzzing around excitedly, ready to take the field and face their opponents in the final game of the season before the play-offs began. Boys chant and holler while getting ready, but Hopper is silent. He’s trapped in his own head, not as focused on the pending game as he should be and it’s all Joyce’s fault. He hadn’t spoken to her since she cursed at him and told him to leave her party. He’d spent countless hours replaying the events of that night, and all of the ways it could have gone and after much deliberation concluded that what happened was possibly the worst thing that could have happened. 

He wanted Joyce to know what she meant to him, but he wasn’t sure how to tell her. And then there was Chrissy and the fact that he was still dating her. Two things became clear after kissing Joyce. First, that he was a fool for ever believing he could cut her out of his life, and second, that he wanted to kiss her again. Only, he was certain she hated him for kissing her and he wasn’t sure she wanted to speak to him again, let alone kiss him again. He’d been avoiding her since that night, unsure of what he would say to her. He’d even gone as far as to skip class because he wanted to sort things out in his mind before he made an even bigger mess of things. And now she’d gone and left him a note saying they needed to talk and he had no clue what she meant by it; only that she was probably at the game tonight. She’d never once come to one of his games and his stomach lurches with the need to impress her. 

He’s angry, but also confused and now both Joyce and Chrissy were going to be staring at him while he played; the fact that Joyce watching him excited him more than Chrissy in her tight little uniform rattled him to his core. 

He decides to channel his anger and confusion into the game and excitedly claps his hands before proceeding to get ready. 

“Why do you look so cheerful?” Hopper asks Benny, who is getting ready at the locker next to him. 

“I’m meeting Helen after the game,” Benny smirks. 

“Things are going well I see.” 

“Honestly, they are. Thank god for Joyce’s party,” Benny laughs. “Oh, wait! I never asked where you ran off to the other night at the party.”

“I told you, I had too much to drink and Chrissy picked me up and drove me home,” Hopper says. 

“I mean before that.”

“Oh,” he pales, “I had to talk to Joyce.”

“And yet, you two still aren’t talking,” Benny remarks sarcastically,  “Am I missing something here?” 

“We’re talking,” Hopper grumbles. They weren’t. He hadn’t spoken to her since that night and he was now ditching science class so that he wouldn’t have to face her. Why was Benny so concerned about his relationship with Joyce anyways, he thinks to himself. Well, based on her note, maybe they’d be talking after tonight. 

“Did something happen between the two of you?” Benny asks. 

“Why would something happen between us?!” he snaps. 

“Woah, take it easy man. I was just asking if you’re fighting about something besides Chrissy.”

“We aren’t fighting about Chrissy.”

“Then why aren’t you talking?”

“It’s complicated.”

“It really can’t be that complicated,” Benny sighs. “Look, I’m worried about you man. You and Joyce have been inseparable since the day I met you and I haven’t seen you together in weeks.”

“It’s fine, Benny. Maybe we’re just growing apart.”

“We both know you don’t actually believe that bullshit. Talk to her.”

“Why are you suddenly so invested?”

“It’s my job as one of your best friends to make sure you don’t do stupid shit that you’ll regret one day. Chrissy might be hot, but Joyce, she’s something special.”

“Benny, how many times have I told you, it’s not like that with us.”

“Isn’t it? You care about her, no?”

“Well, of course I do.”

“Don’t smack me when I say this, because I’m planning on needing this arm for the game,” Benny smirks and jokingly steps away from Hopper to defend himself, “but I’ve seen the way you look at Joyce, and it isn’t how you look at Chrissy. Hell, it isn’t even how my parents look at each other. There’s something there.”

“Benny-”

“Alright,” he tosses his hands up, “no more from me. I’ll never bring it up again, I just had to tell you what I see. Now, let’s get ready to go and kick some ass!” 

Hopper continues to get ready and does his best to ignore what Benny has just said, but the thought is paralyzing. He knew how kissing Joyce made him feel, but were his feelings really so obvious to everyone else? And if that was the case, why weren’t they obvious to Joyce? 

.

.

In the third quarter, the Tigers are leading by 10 and Joyce is surprised to find herself clapping along with her peers, invested in the game. Hopper scored the team's second touchdown, bringing the crowd to their feet, including a shocked and excited Joyce. She wasn’t going to make a habit out of coming to games, but she had to admit, this wasn’t so bad. 

Between the third and fourth quarter, the cheerleaders take the field to perform and Chrissy once again catches Joyce’s eye. The cheerleader laughs and flips her ponytail over her shoulder, while Joyce pretends to be distracted by something on her shoe. 

The cheerleaders line up across center field and begin their performance. Joyce tunes out while they chant about spirit but notices Chrissy flick her skirt up and wink at Hopper, who is watching from the sidelines. She expects him to be drooling over the performance being put on for him, and instead finds him staring up at her in the stands. She swallows hard and forces herself not to wave, instead offering him a shy smile. He doesn’t look away after she notices him, choosing to stare at her instead of the show being put on at center field. When the whistle blows indicating the start of the fourth quarter, he snaps his helmet back on and takes the field. Chrissy remains oblivious to the fact that her boyfriend hadn’t watched her show and flashes a satisfied smirk in Joyce’s direction when she returns to the far side of the field. 

Joyce tries not to read into what’s just happened but Hopper being all over the field and the crowd chanting his name as he scores yet another touchdown forces her to focus on him. 

Someone holds up a sign that reads, “#11 on the field, #1 in our hearts,” and Joyce just laughs. She had a front row seat to the Jim Hopper show tonight, there was no escaping it. 

Once the game comes to an end and the teams graciously shake hands, Joyce lingers on the bleachers until the field is clear and she can effortlessly climbs down onto the track. She leaps over the chain-link fence and leans against the post nearest to the men's locker room while she waits for Hopper. Luckily, the cheerleaders had also vacated the premises and it looked like most of her classmates were headed off to party’s or the diner to celebrate the team's big win, so she has the field all to herself. 

She rolls her head back and stares at the scoreboard with a smile. Maybe football wasn’t the worst sport. After tonight, she understood why Hopper loved it so much. As she waits for him, her nerves begin to get the best of her and she wonders if this is the best idea. What if he didn’t want to hear what she had to say? Or worse, what if he hadn’t got the note, or did get it and decided to stand her up? Before she begins to spiral out of control, she takes out another cigarette and twirls it between her fingers. 

Joyce notices the locker room door creep open and spots Hopper peak his head out and look around. When he spots her, a smile breaks out across his lips and he makes his way over to where she’s been waiting for him. Beneath the flood lights illuminating the field, his eyes look a neon shade of blue and she’s tempted to fix the messy curls left in his sandy hair by his helmet. She resists the urge and instead stuffs the unlit cigarette in her pocket. He’s still wearing his grass-stained jersey and shoulder pads, which makes her feel smaller than she usually does when settles in front of her. 

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey.”

“I got your note,” he smiles. “I’ve missed you.”

“Look,” she begins, awkwardly holding her hands together behind her back, “I’m sorry that I slapped you.”

“Joyce-”

“No, please let me finish,” she begs. “I’m sorry I did that. I miss you too and I would really like to just forget about everything that’s happened and be friends again.”

Hopper purses his lips and folds his arms over his chest, “Huh?” 

He was certain that she had feelings for him, but now she was telling him that she wanted to forget about everything that happened and while he was on board with fixing their friendship, he didn’t want to forget everything. Things changed when he kissed her. He knows she felt it too. She must have. 

“Joyce,” he begins. He was going to get through the speech he rehearsed this time around, he’d screwed up enough, this was his chance to right his wrongs. “I don’t want to forget about it.”

“W-what?” she blinks. 

“I don’t want to forget about it,” he states more definitively. 

“You don’t want to be friends again?” she asks meekly. 

“That’s not what I said. Of course I want to be friends again. Hell, I’ve missed talking to you so much these past few weeks Joy. And I’d love for us to forget about our stupid feud and move on, but… it’s just… I don’t want to forget about what happened at the party.”

Caught off guard by his own admission, he runs his hand through his hair and looks down. It was true, he wanted to mend their friendship, but he couldn’t forget about the way being with her made him feel. 

“You - why?” she stammers. 

“Look, I hate to ask this but Benny thinks that maybe you were upset with me because you’re jealous of Chrissy. Are you?”

“Why does it matter?” 

“It matters.”

“If I am, it doesn’t mean anything,” she admits. 

“It matters to me,” he says. Surprised they’d even made it this far into the conversation without her getting upset with him for accusing her of being jealous, he takes a deep breath. 

“Why? Why can’t we just forget about all of this and go back to the way things were?”

“Because,” he pauses and steps towards her. He reaches down and softly lifts her chin so that she’s forced to look at him. “Joyce, that kiss.”

“It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing, and we both know it.”

“You felt something?” she asks in a whisper.

He nods. 

Overwhelmed, Joyce tries to pace away a few steps but Hopper is quick to place a hand on her waist and instead pulls her half a step closer to him. “Didn’t you?” he breathes. 

“Hop-” she squirms out of his grasp and he drops his hand as she steps back. Tears flood the corners of her eyes and she shakes her head.

“Tell me that I’m wrong and we’ll forget it all happened. But, we don’t have to. I know you felt it too.” His words come out as a plea and she pinches her eyes closed to try and not give in to the desire to launch herself into his arms and tell him that of course she felt it. She needs to stay focused. He was with Chrissy and he wasn’t thinking clearly. He didn’t want her. Not really. He may be fascinated with the idea of her, but the lust that clouded his mind would fade away and their friendship would be left in ruins. She wanted him to be saying this because he wanted her. All of her. She needed to know that he wanted this for the same reasons she did; that she wasn’t just a passing phase. 

“If I tell you that I did, how would that change things between us? You’re with Chrissy. Nothing good will come of me agreeing with you. It’ll ruin everything.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“If I tell you that Benny was right, or that I felt something when you kissed me, it won’t be enough. I want more.”

Her voice breaks and she gasps. Hearing herself admit what she wanted aloud for the first time is overwhelming yet calming. “I need more,” she sighs. It’s a vague statement, she knows, but she doesn’t completely know what she means and is hoping his interpretation will tell her. 

“What do you mean, more?” he asks. He’s staring at her with such intensity that she feels the world around them has vanished. 

“There you are!” A third voice interrupts their moment and Joyce knows that their conversation will remain unfinished while he’s still dating someone else. 

Chrissy flits over to them, the pleats of her green skirt bouncing as she glides effortlessly across the track and launches herself into Hopper’s arms the way Joyce wishes she could. Joyce steps back and away from Hopper, giving his girlfriend room to toss her arms around his neck and kiss him in a far from PG manner. 

An uncomfortable look settles over Hopper’s face as he helps Chrissy find her footing back on the ground. His eyes remain trained on Joyce, even while Chrissy attempts to deepen their kiss, and he awkwardly clears his throat with a cough. 

Chrissy steps to his side and hooks her hand through his arm and smirks at Joyce. 

“Chrissy, you remember Joyce, right?” Hopper says awkwardly. 

“Of course! I just love your jacket,” Chrissy responds with the fakest complement Joyce has ever heard. 

“Nice to see you,” Joyce whispers. She stuffs her hands in the front pockets of her jeans and shrugs. “Anyways, I should get going. Um, good game Hop,” she says, smiling half-heartedly at him. 

“Do you want a ride? We’re going to the diner,” Hopper calls after her. 

He can feel Chrissy glaring at him for inviting Joyce, but he isn’t done with their conversation and he desperately wants her to agree to the ride. 

“I’ve got one, but thanks,” she waves. Joyce turns and makes her way to the parking lot, racking her brain with what to do next. She was hoping that she and Hopper would have resolved things and he could have given her a ride home, but with their conversation ending where it did, she wasn’t keen on climbing into a car with him and Chrissy and she really didn’t want to walk home. 

That’s when she spots him, leaning against a beat up old car with a cigarette dangling between his teeth, and the idea strikes her. 

“Lonnie,” she greets him as she approaches. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you at a football game.”

“Yeah well, something to do. I could say the same about you.”

“It’s not my usual scene,” she admits. 

“I was going to head to the diner, you want a ride Horowitz?” he offers. He puts out his cigarette by aggressively stomping his heel into the dirt. 

“I’d love one,” she beams. She steals a glance over her shoulder and notices Hopper is watching while he and Chrissy walk towards his own car. Desperate to show him she’s unphased by Chrissy, she leans over to Lonnie and presses a kiss to his lips. 

“What was that for?” he smirks when she pulls back and rounds the car so that she can climb into the passenger's seat. 

“Consider it a thanks for the ride,” she winks.  

She makes eye contact with Hopper as she and Lonnie back out of the parking lot and she notices his fists are clenched at his sides. She knew it was wrong and childish, but she can’t help herself. She put her heart on the line tonight, it was Hopper’s turn to make a move and prove that he wanted her as more than just a best friend. 

This is the last time you tell me I've got it wrong

This is the last time I say it's been you all along

[earthfluuke]

1/2 hello it's korn anon! this episode might be my favorite of the season so far. i LOVED seeing grace start to use her potential and save the day. i think the woman she's seeing is herself in the future, so she knows what to do to make sure they beat supot. i just. trust that she knows what to do and have full faith that she can carry the team to a victory here. the scene for next week showed her saying "you can't beat the future" which is true. that's the only thing he can't control or change

2/3 i can't wait to see him crash and burn. pang hurt me this episode. he's just so tired and defeated and i want to cry. i would like to think he has a bigger plan up his sleeve but it truly seems like he doesn't know what to do anymore and with all he's been through this season i don't blame him (also i can't even begin to think about the fact that pangwave would canonically willingly die for each other like wave WTF that was so romantic don't touch me i'm soft)

3/4 also NAMTAAN i was sooo happy to see our girl back in action! i fully maintain that if she had been here the entire season none of this would have happened. it looks like they're giving ohm more to do next week and i'm so excited for that. also when the trio went to see nate and she helped them escape that made me so sad. you could see that supot def had feelings for her at some point but is also psychotic enough that that didn't matter and he killed her. ugh

4/5 however there were some issues i had with this episode that contribute to the issues i'm having with this season as a whole. it seems like we are missing important scenes that while they aren't techinically needed for the plot to progress, are super important character-wise. my biggest grievance is korn (my namesake!). like since when was he suddenly cured and everyone accepts him again? only pang was told about supot forcing him. did korn tell them himself? it woulda been nice to see

5/5 (ig i had a lot more to say than i thought lol) also wouldn't he also need the treatment that pang and wave need (same with time and third) and wouldn't that cause him to also have to do whatever the director says? and are claire and punn back together? it doesn't look like anything has changed between them. also where is pom? is he okay? is he breathing? i would like to know as soon as possible. overall i really enjoyed it tho! and i can't wait to see next ep! what are your thoughts? x :)

okay, wow there is a lot to answer here (but that’s as to be expected, because this episode was NUTS). 

i definitely agree that she can see into the future and that the lady she keeps seeing is her from the future!! the preview especially helps support this theory. the memory loss is interesting, so hopefully we’ll find out why she has that. she really can be the hope that pang needs (because god...does that boy need it). 

LISTEN. PANG. MY SON. SOMEONE HUG HIM. DEAR GOD, WATCHING HIM IN THIS EPISODE HURT SO BAD. usually with pang, i’d say he’s planning something, but this time...i really don’t think he does. i think he’s given up, and he’s trying to do what will be best for all of his friends. what’s more important to him than getting rid of supot is his friends’ safety. that was on the line, so he did what he thought was the only option. but he’s so tired and defeated, and it pains me to see. he tries so hard and so badly wants to help others, but supot is just so damn tricky.

listen. there is not heterosexual explanation for that pangwave scene. absolutely none. when supot told the gifted kids that if they knew where pang was and they didn’t tell him, they’d have to infect themselves with the virus, HE  WAS LOOKING AT WAVE. HE KNEW. and then wave went to make sure pang was safe even though he knew he would have to risk his own life...g o d, those two.

when i saw namtaan, i AUDIBLY gasped. i was so shocked, but i’m pretty sure everyone was. i wasn’t expecting to see her at ALL, but i’m so glad we got to. if only she was still at the school...all of this could have been solved in like two episodes. 

that scene between supot and nate...i knew supot was a manipulator, okay, i knew. but that was just...that was just so sad. nate has been forced to live under his control for YEARS, all because he essentially told her that she “owed him” for helping her escape the ministry. and then when she did one thing that went against him, he didn’t even hesitate to kill her (because i believe he was controlling her with the virus too; what he’s doing with the gifted kids now is what he’s been doing to her for years, so he finally let the virus kill her). and he has the audacity to say that she never loved lee (i can’t even say a character’s name because WHO WAS HE, WE WILL NEVER KNOW), she loved the idea of who he was manipulated to be, which was supot. sir, i would very much like to bury you so far into the ground--

okay, the korn thing! i was wondering about that too! i saw him sitting amongst the gifted kids, and i was like ??? did they just let him back in, no questions asked? i’m going to assume he told them everything that happened, because otherwise...all of those kids are suddenly very forgiving. as for if korn is still infected with the virus already...i think he is. part of me thinks supot will infect all of class xv, even though he told pang he wouldn’t (because let’s be real, when has he ever kept any promises?).

i don’t think punn and claire are back together, at least not yet. i think they’re both just going about their lives and continuing to be friends. i think after punn’s other personalities showed back up again, they were able to start up a relationship again, even if it is platonic. because at the end of the day, they still very much care about each other. i think if anything, they’re just focusing on themselves for now and growing into the people they’re discovering themselves to be.

as for pom. let’s just say, i hope he’s off with chanon planning absolute revenge against supot for the years of abuse he’s inflicted onto him. but if you want me to be realistic, something tells me supot has him in a hospital room somewhere in the same state he’s planning to put all gifted people in - infected with the virus but enough to kill them, unless they do something to disobey him.

there are only two episodes left, and let me say, i am FRIGHTENED. please, just let all my babies be okay, because i cannot take anymore stress.

[gotatext]

 hello, its nora (she/her, gmt) n this is the ethereal but spoiled alma olive putnam (she goes by all 3 names cos she’s pretentious as fuck). raised in a farmhouse in vermont, big horse girl energy. very hungry for everything life has to offer. wakes up and smells the success in her blood. luvs the smell of libraries and listening to french music from a tinny record player in knee socks. here is pinterest. bio is below the cut, like this post to be bombarded with plotting messages but i might forget tho so pls message me x

application template.

『ELLE FANNING ❙ CIS-FEMALE』 ⟿ looks like ALMA OLIVE PUTNAM is here for HER JUNIOR year as a CLASSICS student. SHE is 21 years old & known to be RESILIENT, MAGNETIC, CALLOUS & PROUD. They’re living in PERKINS, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ NORA. 24. GMT. SHE/HER.

aesthetics.

a red beret nestled on top of bright platimum locks, neck scarves tied around your throat the way they do it in french new wave films, running barefoot through the woods in feckless hedonism, china dolls with porcelain faces lined against the walls of your room, the mona lisa smile, knee-socks tugged over the hockey grazes on your knees, a forged botticelli drying on your easel, ophelia floating in the middle of a lake. 

proceed w caution, tw for death, drugs, alcohol, violence

the short form.

— studying classics cos she thinks it makes her sound smart, but actually hates fuckin latin and just loves learning about feckless hedonism and the festivals of bacchus and writing about how all women in myth are literally forgotten. was expelled from princeton in her first year so her parents basically paid her way into radcliffe but she made an impression.... like... super fast and in her sophomore year she was upgraded to perkins accomodation n a paid scholarship bcos i think the governors kind of expect to see her in the supreme court one day or.

—  born in vermont in a big old farmhouse. her great-great-grandfather moved to america as an immigrant and worked on a plantation, made his way up cos he could speak a lot of languages and therefore win more people over. for the last two generations, putnam men have owned the farm and do little of the dirty work. big in the meat industry.

— both her parents had large personalities, so alma’s never really been shy around adults, even as a kid she’d speak to them in a forthright, confident manner, and because she was always surrounded by adults, she’s always seemed a bit wise beyond her years.

— very much a consolidation of every character in the secret history. has a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs. obsessed with w.h. auden and the beat poets. — ”aestheticism is the only thing worth pursuing and even that is pointless” — is majoring in classical civilisation. can read ancient greek and latin. also speaks french.

— studies hard and plays hard. she gets top marks but it’s because academia is literally her life, she loves the smell of libraries, the ancient smoke of learning, of feeling like old wine in a new bottle reincarnated from the bones of some old, dead witchy woman who invented a cure for cowpox or somethin.

— isn’t a foward-planner, however. alma prefers to leave her options open, play the field, live in a spontaneous manner so her study style is mostly cramming a few days before a test, or staying up all night writing an essay on a massive adrenaline boost powered by red bull or probably adderall, scribbling (or typing) furiously into the night.

— pretentious motherfucker. loves poetry, especially the romantics, loves morbid ones too, edgar allen poe, sylvia plath, allen ginsberg, she just loves them all. can’t get enough. her favourite films are like…. wanky artfilm independent european cinema. especially french new wave. “what do you think of goddard’s work??” while snorting a line off someone’s sink at 5am on a school night, but you can bet she’ll make it to that 9am class. — very intelligent and beautiful and knows both of those facts. plays devil’s advocate. humanitarian, vegan. — judgemental but takes great care not to appear so. petty and vindictive

— obsessively devours mystery and thriller novels. she herself is a gillian flynn book waiting to happen. — tries to be an enigma. wants to be mysterious and unreadable because that’s what books have taught her makes women desirable and interesting and cool. very amy dunne in the way she expertly reinvents herself to suit her audience, when she wants to impress

— act like the flower but be the serpent under it. is a user. manipulative. leads people on. will throw another student under the bus to demonstrate her own intelligence and integrity — heavily involved in the theatre society. loves attention. — has an addictive personality. seems unable to do anything in a small dose, she has to let it utterly consume her. with sports, she’s fiercely competitive, runs track, played lacrosse at school, now is a cheerleader probably. with alcohol, it’s never a shot, it’s a whole bottle – wine or whiskey – she’ll be table dancing before the night’s up and making out with someone she’ll regret in the morning.

— her clothing style is like…. vintage thrift store but make it preppy. berets and cute hats, neck scarves, large fluffy cardigans or like those leathery jackets with big suede fringes on them, mini skirts (very 70s), and knee-high socks or boots. quite often she’ll be in sports kit, maybe a cute tennis skirt, n when she’s feeling casual she’ll wear like, a talking heads tshirt with a pair of mom jeans and converse, but otherwise, the library is her catwalk. — relates to ophelia from hamlet and sibyl vane in dorian gray. weirdly obsessed with women who commit suicide. loves jackson pollock paintings and abstract art. – likes old things. old books, old music, old houses, it reminds her of happier times like when she wasn’t alive. buys all her music on vinyl and has a gramophone because “the sound quality is better” kfdsjj.

plots.

here are some generic wanted plots but by all means message me so we can flesh them out more if any strike ur interest:

study buddies !! someone who is equally unprepared and so spends all night in the library with alma before a big deadline, maybe they even met in the library

if they’re from new england or vermont, then cousins . second cousins / extended family / family friends –  probably spat volavons on your character once as children, omg childhood friends !

people who live in perkins n feel like they r constantly competing with one another to keep their place as one of the #elite only know each other from brief interactions in the lift or the canteen

honestly someone who is fully in love with her or crushing on her that she can just break would be sweet :/ or on the other hand someone she unexpectedly gets feelings for and actually wants to guage her own  eyeballs out bc of it

frinds !! unlikely friends !! toxic friends !! former best friends separated by sporting or academic rivalries !

hockey / cheer friends who are on other teams but who she absolutely loves playin against!!!

fellow academics who like meeting up to discuss latin and greek ! gimme a secret society bonding by their love of ancient learning

i reckon she’s in a lot of societies, definitely the film club, maybe works as a projectionist at the uni cinema if they have one so give me ppl affiliated with that, give me fellow wanky pretentious art-lovers and poets and historians who will go to museums and galleries with her and listen to the velvet underground on vinyl

people she gets mortally fucked off her tits with at parties

people who think she is throwing her academic potential away by caving to hedonistic impulse

A SECRET SOCIETY !!! honestly i would die for a slug club esque thing in which the children of notable families are invited to dinners OR alma’s also an art forger, so maybe like a club of students set up to basically forge paintings and documents from the university special collections

people she has drunkenly made out with, hooked up with, or regularly sleeps with casually, maybe even a friend w benefits she is repressing feelings for, i love angst,

people she used to date or unrequitedly likes, but to them it’s just a physical thing, give me all the thirsty angst plots, and maybe some softness too, i need some religion in this girls life, she is a roman catholic after all

full biography.

alma olive putnam.

intro.

         the girl is a knife. razor-sharp, double-edged, the bright shine of a two-faced, lovely thing. silver like the secrets you magpie thief from other heads. you’re a scavenger of knowledge, of tidbits, of gossip to lock away for later use and late-night re-inspection. a mind is like a clock if you get to learn the pieces. bit by bit, you dismantle the inner workings of the brains that tick around you – how easy it is to change it’s path, how words and their meanings can make a person laugh or cry in an instant. to have the power to control that is to be a god. it’s the power trip you crave wielding pom-poms in your hands; a possessive need for control that a younger you, small and weak, never had as a child. small lips, smaller smile, a doll clutched in your too-hungry fingers, hard enough to shatter the bones of a real infant. you cut your hair with your mother’s kitchen scissors before the autumn falls, rendering you out of season, unfit for the cold weather that beats against the nape of your neck, where a stick-and-poke marks the star you were born under ; the bull. “mama, when will i be a queen?” as soon as they find a crown small enough not to slip from your head.

biography.

         if you get hungry enough, they say, you start eating your own heart. hands red, stained by pomegranate seeds, the empty pulp of its shell splattered on your thighs you find yourself wondering – what would it be like to want? in the beginning, you never knew hunger. twins, born under the same star, you first, him second – a nuclear family. never a sister to compete with, you were always the cherry pie of your parents’ hearts. white-haired, blue-eyed, beautiful baby of mine. the townhouse in vermont and the summer house in lyon, you wanted for nought, showered with attention, saddled with gifts - hardly a wonder you came to rely on such affection as a confirmation of your own worth.

         at eight years old you first met death, blood on a gingham-print dress, a smear of it over your cheekbone and the pulp of a mangled animal at your feet murdered by the hands of a stable boy. “alma, my precious baby, you get away from that filth,” your mama would cry from the upstairs balcony – cigar in one hand and a bloody mary in the other – though whether the filth she referred to was the dead pig or the boy with a kernel of corn in his mouth, you never did find out.

         your family earned their keeps in farming, great-grandfather wolfgang hildegarde a german immigrant, great-grandmother maura lisbon a prairie girl. they fell hopelessly in love between troughs and pig-shit, working for three dollars a day at a farm their descendants would later own, trade deals with the indians, vacations to calcutta, your father todd putnam in the kind of sheepskin coat his father’s father could only dream of owning. he worked hard so that you’d never have to. your mama once asked – you heard it through the window, rounding cartwheels across the picket-fenced lawn – could he not find a respectable career rather than selling shrink-wrapped pork for a dime a dozen? that blood money had no business raising a child. you look far back enough, edie, your father had said in his low, strong voice that could bring a civil war to silence, and i think you’ll find that all money is blood money.

         language was never fickle on your tongue, french dinner time talk by the time you were out of your hush puppy shoes, your mama fixing the au pair a smile as she fixed herself another martini. you learned the clarinet at four and how to dance with the grace of a swansong at six, ethereal under a spotlight, an audience captive in the palm of your hand. by eight you knew that you’d always been destined to be loved. loved so hard they would want to taste you, bite into the soft plump of your cheek and eat you alive. that was how magnetic you wanted to feel. but mother hamsters eat their own young when penned in together too long, and soon you became too wild, too restless, another package on your father’s delivery invoice, box-shipped out to english boarding school.

         fitting in had never been something you had to concern yourself with. you were always the shiny new toy the other girls wanted to play with, bright like a dropped coin from a magpie’s beak. wherever you went, you seemed to leave a trail of awe, pig-tailed harriet’s adoring you, imitating you, teachers forgiving your class-time chatter for the sake of your wild heart and the restless spirit you possessed. tell us what it’s like in the states, alma. they’d coo, enamoured by your hollywood drawl. does your father own a gun? you hardly knew. barely even knew the colour of his hair, for the scarce amount of times he’d stoop to kiss your cheek, though you’d tell silver-tongued tales if it’d guaranteed you an audience. when you learned how to smile at the right times, and that flattery would get you everywhere, it soon became apparent that charm would pave the yellow brick road to success even when your lack of drive couldn’t.

         the road you followed – gum-snapping, roller-blading, friendship bands all up your arm – eventually led you to radcliffe. bright-eyed and gingham skirted, you’d always known you were more. there was a hunger in you to be something extraordinary, a want so adamant to be imagined and desired that it was almost savage. in leather-bound volumes and a circle of stones, you were helen of troy, the girl for whom they’d launch a thousand ships. but there’s so much rage within you, collecting like sawdust in cavernous parts. hockey helped. there was something grounding about the feeling of a stick clasped in your hands. sweat. stiff knuckles. feet pounding the earth. the smash of wood against flesh in the scram of a game, passed off as mere enthusiasm. “slipped, sorry.” hockey is the one thing you had that was yours alone – a feral instinct that motivates you to play; something primitive within you that sparks an energy like no other. on the pitch, you feel alive. you feel like a god.

[photolover82]

The Masked Singer Season 3 Episode 4: Meet Group B (Kickoffs Thoughts and Guesses)

Hello fellow Masked Singer lovers. Welcome (or welcome back) to my commentary on the Masked Singer. This time, we are meeting a whole new group of 6 celebrities, a new six pack if you will (wow these puns are dumb but funny in a dumb way), which is so exciting since some of these masks (I will be talking about who in a second) are some that I have been pumped to see perform and now I get to see them. Group B consisted of the Elephant, Mouse, Banana, Kitty, and Taco.  

Honestly, to evaluate the whole group, I enjoyed them so much more than the last group. They were a fantastic group and so funny/entertaining to watch, I freaking loved everyone. Also, I feel like this was the hardest set of clues to crack open and I am not sure at all who some of these masked singers are so here comes me being super unsure about it with a crap ton of question marks. Anyways, let’s get started with the celebrity who got eliminated... 

As you know, this is a **SPOILER ALERT**, avert your eyes now if you don’t want to know what happens during this episode. This is a disclaimer, don’t say I never warned you. 

Ok, so the unmasked/eliminated celebrity mask was: 

*DRUMROLL PLEASE* 

THE ELEPHANT  

Ok, so I was really sad to see him go, but I kind of figured because he was the weakest singer of the group even though as a singer he was really good. I had legit no idea who he was, mostly because I didn’t really see the clues and I heard a piece of his voice, but even if I did, I feel like I would have never guessed it because I was honestly shocked when I found out who it was. 

So the Elephant was revealed to be *SPOILER* 

TONY HAWK (LIKE WOW I AM STILL SHOOK AB THIS) 

Ok so I wouldn’t have ever thought that Tony freaking Hawk would be on The Masked Singer like wow I am shocked, mostly because of his voice. If you study the clues though, it makes sense: 

In the clues, he talks about “canvassing park benches,” which refers to his childhood skating in San Diego parks. 

There were also birds in the package which allude to his last name Hawk and his company Birdhouse

He also alluded to the fact that he skated at the White House in 2010. 

As for my opinion on his performance, I really liked it, he wasn’t the worst singer, but didn’t really have the same personality and charisma as the rest of the contestants so I am not shocked that he went home. I never would've imagined that Tony Hawk would do this show and say yes to it, so kudos to him because he did do a great job. He sang “Friday I’m in Love” by The Cure. 

Ok, so now that we have that out of the way, let’s take a look at the 5 remaining contestants going to the playoffs: 

1. The Frog

Performance: Ok so the frog is pretty cool not gonna lie, he’s got moves. You could tell that he can dance, but his singing isn’t the best thing ever. From his voice, I feel like he is more of a rapper than a singer. However, he still was really fun to watch and kind of reminds me of a better sounding version of the White Tiger with the same fun energy (well not the same, but he has a lot of swag and is a suave ass frog like wow). He sang “U Can’t Touch This” by MC Hammer.  

Ok so my guess is: 

BOW WOW 

My reasoning behind this has to do with the clues: 

In clue package, there was a 1996 Olympics ad and it was in Atlanta and he lives in Atlanta.

Bag of “leftovers” = doggie bag= allude to his stage name 

$106 bills = he was the host of 106 and park 

2. The Kitty 

Performance: Ok, I adored her performance of “Dangerous Woman” by Ariana Grande. She really killed it, probably one of my favorites in this group. Her vocals are crazy amazing. 

My guess for her is: 

SABRINA CARPENTER 

Alright so I am between Sabrina and Sarah Hyland tbh, but Entertainment Tonight convinced me with their interpretation of the clues: 

She is really short= only 5 feet tall

Theater in the clues = she is about to star in Mean Girls on Broadway

Pirates fighting in the clues= she did a live showing of Peter Pan 

3. The Taco

Performance: I was really surprised by this one. I saw that mask and was like this has to be someone like a comedian or something who is like screwing with us and dressing as a taco, like a George Lopez type. However, wow he can sing, like he has a Frank Sinatra vibe to him. Never thought I’d say this, but he is another favorite of mine from this group. I was pretty shook at how good he was, singing “Fly Me to the Moon,” by Frank Sinatra (lol I was searching up the song and I just noticed this). 

My guess for Taco is: 

TOM BERGERON 

My reasoning was because of these clues: 

In clue package, VHS Tapes= he hosted America’s Funniest Home Videos

Anchor on a plate= alluding to how he is an actor for Dancing with the Stars

Been on the screen for decades= being a host for multiple years

4.  The Mouse 

Performance: I loved this performance, yay I am happy. I keep seeing super cool and awesome looking masks that don’t have the vocal chops to match, but this one isn’t the case. This one is such a cute and lovely mask and her voice is as great. I really enjoyed her performance of “Get Here” by Oleta Adams. 

My guess for Mouse is: 

DIONNE WARWICK 

These clues solidified the guess for me: 

“Bang Bang Formation”= Song Mr. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang 

1979 in clue package= her self-titled came out in 1979 and was gold certified (which could make sense with the gold pom poms)  

5. The Banana 

Performance: In my opinion, the banana isn’t the most skilled singer of the group but he is very entertaining. His voice has a Southern twang to it and he seems cool I guess, but like who is he? I am so confused, I am in between a comedian or a country singer.. ahh idk 

My guess is: 

I HAVE NONE BC I LEGIT HAVE NO CLUE 

The clues don’t make any sense to me solidifying one person: 

There’s a cowboy hat and a blowfish which the judges thought it could be Darius Rucker. 

He says at the end “I just want to see you smile” 

A Blue Collar, which could mean Blue collar comedy (or is a red herring I have no idea) 

Anyways, that’s all, folks. I am so excited to see what these 5 masks will do next and if my guesses will change. I feel like this is the most lost I have ever been on the show because these clues have been the hardest to crack, but I am pretty happy that I got at least 3 or so solid guesses from this, the only ones I need to solidify are Kitty and Banana... To be determined, I guess? See you guys next week with another crazy Masked Singer recap.