#the idiot love quadrangle

[yumedoca]

Weirdos prefer weirdos...

[thewingedwolf]

@skyhawkstragedy yes exactly more messy pan icons like kyland!!

izzy talking about the lack of gay showmances is because the reason straight showmances work is because you have a variety of people to pick from, you can’t just cast two gay people and expect them to want to get it on, which is very true and an excellent point, but also we can fix this by casting more bisexuals! we get closer every year i believe we will get a gay showmance one day soon!!!!!!

[justalildumpling]

chapter 7: her nike zoom pegasus

wc: 1k

“Ok i can already cross out at least half the girls on this list because genuinely, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them wear sneakers before.” 

Donghyuck leant back against the trunk of the big oak tree in the quad, as the rest of the group crowded around Jeno’s laptop. Jeno could only let out a tired sigh, as he couldn’t exactly pinpoint when or how he had ended up in this position.

It was a normal Wednesday afternoon, cherishing his rare days off by lazing around his home. He remembered sitting at the base of his couch, flipping through the endless catalogue of movies on Netflix before a thunderous set of knocks sounded at his door.

That’s weird, he thought. He didn’t recall ordering any packages or food during the span of the morning. Maybe it was one of the street cats he would feed every once in a while? 

No, he immediately scrapped the thought. Cats most definitely do not knock on doors like that, if at all.

With his curiosity burning in his mind, Jeno shuffled his feet to the door. Flimsily fiddling with the doorknob with one hand and attempting to cover his tousled bed hair with another, he eventually pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head; and with a click, he pulled the door towards him to face his… friends?

Jeno couldn’t exactly recall the events that followed the initial confrontation as each of his friends grabbed a part of his arm, stuffed him into Mark’s car and set off to the university campus.

And now here he was, sitting crosslegged on the soft grassy lawns of the quadrangle watching his ambushers figure out the solution to his complicated love life (aka mostly Donghyuck, crossing out name after name with the red highlight tool of google docs)

“Not gonna lie to you guys,” Jeno spoke up, catching the attention of his group, “I don’t remember any of these people on the list.”

Jaemin slapped the side of his arm lightly, “Cause you were black out drunk, idiot.” 

Renjun snickered softly from the opposite end of the circle with his head buried in his own device. He remained disengaged for most of their conversations, which in turn made Jeno believe that the devil’s incarnate called Lee Donghyuck had also forcefully brought the poor film student along for his own entertainment.

“Y/N L/N?” Donghyuck stated, breaking Jeno’s train of thought.

The boy paused his scrolling to stare at your name in thought for a couple of seconds, “Why does that name sound so familiar?”

“Wasn’t that the girl Hyunjae was crushing on last year?” Renjun replied nonchalantly, though his attention never left his major work.

A murmur of what seemed like mutual agreement filled the atmosphere with a few other remarks and unconfirmed rumours half hazardly thrown into the mix. The once heated conversation revolving around his love life or lack there of, dulled down into a mellower one about the girl in question.

“Speak of the devil,” Mark butted in, his eyes peering towards the stone pathway to his right.

Jeno alongside the rest of his friends followed the Canadian’s gaze to spot you. For an average human’s attention to detail, they would’ve stared for a couple of seconds, thought not much of it and returned their focus back to their original task at hand. But, not Jeno. 

His eyes zeroed in on your shoes, Black Nike Zoom Pegasus. One of the models of footwear he wore for training back in his high school days. It was a comfortable fit, with the cushion of the sole being slightly ‌thicker than the previous models, it made it a perfect shoe for long distance cardio or just everyday life.

The white sole of your shoes was tinted a light brown; most probably dirtied from walking around the campus grounds in the rain and the Nike symbol slightly rubbed off, showing the much love the shoes had received over the years.

As his eyes trailed up to your pale blue cardigan draped on your shoulders, it felt as if sirens were going off in his brain. He could hear the squabbles of his friends in the background as he stood up from the park bench, taking cautionary steps towards your figure on the path. 

Jeno could feel the beating of his heart crescendoing the closer in proximity the two of you got, his hands clenching the cuffs of his jacket, before mustering out, “Hey! You’re Y/N right?”

You slowly swivelled around, eyes wide open and your eyebrows raised by the unexpected interaction.

“Uh yeah? Jeno right?” You answered with a curious smile, “What’s up?”

Jeno didn’t exactly know what he was trying to achieve with this conversation, maybe he was trying to introduce himself to you. But obviously that failed because you already knew who he was, and of course you did. You were best friends with Park Sunghoon, his occasional gym buddy and seatmate in that god forbidden exercise physiology class he had barely passed last semester.

Maybe he wanted to ask you about last night, if you had willingly kissed him let alone actually remembered anything at all. But that would be weird, what was he meant to say?

“Hey, I’m pretty sure we made out last night but I don’t exactly remember if it’s you but you’re wearing the same exact running shoes as the girl so I’d like to think that it’s you.”

No. Over his dead body.

It was then Jeno realised that he had stayed silent for longer than socially acceptable as you started scrunching your eyebrows in confusion, tapping your fingers against the base of your laptop patiently for him to reply to your so called simple question.

Maybe he should’ve replied with “Were you at Sunwoo’s party last night because I swear I saw you around the beer pong area” or “Sorry, I blanked out there, have you seen Sunghoon around?” But life doesn’t work that simply, nor does his hungover state of a fried brain so instead came:

“If you’re free right now, let me take you on a date.”

masterlist || previous | next

pairing: jeno x fem! reader

synopsis: it wasn’t often jeno showed emotions of love and affection, let alone kissing a stranger at a party that he doesn’t even remember?! determined to find his nameless cinderella, he began searching the campus far and wide but as hidden secrets started surfacing, he started to wonder whether the midnight spark was meant to be pursued after all.

genre: social media au, college au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, crack

warnings: mentions of alcohol

note: ... hehe. bet u didn't see that coming (also i was running on like 3hrs of sleep when writing this so pls forgive me)

taglist: open! feel free to send an ask or comment to be added :))) ~ @vellitac @ddeonuism @heavenly-seraphic @matchahyuck @pckeia @rinrinslovebot @dior-15 @raikea10 @justsayk @btssf9nct @ismileeprnc-responder @moonchele @mothmork @dandelionxgal @cheyehc @luvenshiti @friseealamode @pastelsicheng @silvsie @kpopshithead @ifyournameischoisanpleaseloveme @pewpewpwe00 @kindawack @mrkleelvr @shxnz @woneulz @kyuupidwrites @yunho-1999 @loveleejn @barbkh8450t

permanent taglist: ~  @xxxx-23nct @maeumiluv @produmads @shwizhies @polarisjisung @dearlyminhyung @wooyoung-a @w3bqrl @daincty @deehyuck @enelrahs @rv7hsua @n0hyuck @neosdaisy @baekhyunstruly

[janinebutcher]

Cannot believe all these gorgeous women were pining over ... Riley

hahahaha, yesss. i always thought it was ridiculous that mercedes, mitzeee and lynsey - literally the most beautiful, complex, interesting women were all losing their mind over the village idiot.

i'll be honest, i liked riley at times, particularly before that whole love triangle (or more like quadrangle) and i did ship mitzeee/riley despite everything but my god she actually deserved so much better. he was entirely unworthy of all of them.

the worst thing isn't even him being rather bland and boring but how badly he treated them all?? like i said i did ship him with mitzeee but sometimes when i'm rewatching i'm really wondering WHY cause he can be SO vile. he's so horrible to her when she's in prison, implying that she's a danger to bobby although she loved that kid so much :(( and how he jumped back and forth between lynsey and mitzeee, giving neither the attention and love they deserved... grrrr, i get mad just thinking about it

[seichira]

Hello! If I may, could I please ask for some headcanons of how Chigiri, Nagi, Bachira and Isagi would confess to the reader?

LOVESICK CONFESSIONS — blue lock!

✺ featuring — meguru bachira, hyoma chigiri, yoichi isagi, and seishiro nagi

✺ lumi’s note — this is my first time writing a request and coincidentally, also my first post for the bllk (best) boys! i hope you like it, anon!

MEGURU BACHIRA ༉‧₊˚.

i have a very good reason to believe that meguru bachira just one day wakes up and decides that he loves you and is going to tell you. don’t get me wrong—his epiphany may be sudden, but this has been a long time coming, and it’s high time he tells you.

since this morning, meguru bachira is a man on a mission. he is going to tell you that he has feelings for you, and it has to be today. to be honest, meguru isn’t the type of person to come up with those cheesy and romantic gestures. he finds his own ways to do things, and confessing isn’t any different.

just like clockwork, you approach the school quadrangle with tree boxes where you always sit down on to read books and sometimes watch bachira as he shows you his tricks in football. it has been a routine of some kind to meet there every after class and you both liked it.

as for you, the presence of the boy is comforting after a long day even though you’re both just doing your own thing, but you know that he’s there and it’s enough. of course, who can forget the ice cream he buys you as a thanks for accompanying him while he plays football?

today, meguru is already there when you arrived. as always, his feet are already playing with the ball in some way even if he’s still in his school uniform. he’s cute like this, you think. in his point of view, while you close the distance between the two of you, he gets more and more excited to tell you.

“y/n! think fast!” before you know it, the ball is already flying towards you. although spending a lot of time with him has resulted in you knowing how to at least catch a ball, you opt to dodge it this time.

“what the heck, megs? you trying to kill me?”

he chuckled, “you have to catch it, y/n!”

you looked at him incredulously, “no, thank you. i came here to peacefully read my new copy of pride and prejudice, so if you may—”

“aw, come on! pick it up! pretty please?”

okay, let’s get this out of the way—meguru bachira has irresistible puppy eyes that can get him anything he wants. so, you do it and you picked up the ball.

“tell me what it says, pretty.”

your brows furrowed in confusion, but your instincts guided you to search the ball for whatever he meant. and there, in big, black, bold letters—i love you.

the scoff that comes out of your lips in insincere and the smile that creeps into your face is a telltale sign of how you feel the same way.

he grins, “well?”

“think fast, meguru!”

you aim the ball towards his head and throw it playfully, which he catches without effort. he looks at you expectantly.

“i love you too, idiot.”

he may or may not have kicked the ball so hard it reached the rooftop of the nearest building to the point where it cannot be retrieved, but who knows?

HYOMA CHIGIRI ༉‧₊˚.

HYOMA CHIGIRI ༉‧₊˚.

oh dear, you have to tell him first or else, your happily ever after with him will end before it even started. he is very well aware of how he feels about you, but the 50/50 chance of you liking him back or not doesn’t sit well with him, and it makes him sick to his stomach imagining you rejecting him. he’d rather die than go through that heartbreak slash embarrassment. doesn’t do well with rejections. so, yeah.

it has been a frustrating month, to say the least, because chigiri has been acting weird. you guys went from basically acting like an old couple to casual acquaintances, and you don’t understand. not too long ago, everyone was expecting you to be together by the end of this year and truth to be told, you thought so too.

in chigiri’s defense, he is freaking out. his friends are pressuring him to man up and tell you how strongly he feels about you, but that is the problem. he feels too strongly and he’s afraid how rejection coming from your end will affect everything.

first, he’ll lose you and your friendship. followed by losing months of proper training because he’ll be nursing his heartbreak seriously. the odds aren’t in his favor, and it’s keeping him awake at night.

obviously, he has been thinking too much about this, that he hasn’t noticed how he’s hurting you in the present. he’s not showing up to your little picnics by the soccer field, he’s not responding to the cutesy sticky notes you hand to him in class, and he’s not even looking at you, much less talking to you.

“bro, you trying to become single forever, or what?” his friend, isagi, who absolutely has no game when it comes to girls as well, asks him.

“what do you mean?”

“just look at your pretty lil y/n,” isagi shamelessly points towards your direction in the cafeteria, and chigiri hurriedly puts his friend’s hand down.

but he sees what he means—you are looking at them with that faint melancholy in your eyes that you’re trying to hide. chigiri can only look away alongside the torturous feeling tugging at his heartstrings.

of course, she’s upset. i’m her friend and i haven’t been talking to her. i’ll just apologize once i sort these feelings out, he rationalizes.

that is only until you corner him as soon as he got out of the comfort room. you look confrontational and it has him terrified. he’s actually alone. with you. the person who he is head over heels in love with.

“spit it out, hyoma,” you demand with venom and hurt laced in your voice it almost makes him flinch.

since he’s backed against the wall and you’re standing inches right in front of him, he figures running away isn’t the right thing to do in this situation.

“tell me straight up and end my agony. i’ll try my best to fix whatever problem you have with me, but i can’t do that if you won’t tell me!”

“w-what do you mean?” is all he could muster because his brain can only process the fact that he can smell your perfume and natural scent from here and it is sending him on a frenzy.

god, he is so damn in love with you.

however, he is pulled out of his reverie when he hears your small sniffles and when he catches sight of your tears.

no, no, no.

don’t cry. not for me. not for anyone.

“y/n—”

“is it because you found out that i’m in love with you, hyoma? is… is that why you’ve been avoiding me? you could have just told me and i’d do my best to fall out of love with you if that’s what it takes for you to remain friends with me—”

a string of patience breaks within him, and with that comes a breath of pure relief as he grabs your nape to pull you in on a kiss.

“but i don’t wanna be friends,” he whispers in between kisses. “i love you too. i love you, baby.”

ISAGI YOICHI ༉‧₊˚.

he claims that he has loved you ever since you were both kids to everyone who asks him who you are (yes, everyone knows that this nerd is in love with you except… well, you). it was only when he had to go away to blue lock for some time that he realizes he needs to confess to you before spending time apart, and also because he is scared he’d lose you to your other admirers.

isagi is restless.

it’s valentine’s day and he just witnessed your locker throw up a bunch of love letters from losers who are confessing their undying love for you. idiots. if anyone here has undying love for her, it’s me.

despite knowing that no one will love you more than he does, he is still all fidgety and nervous because unlike those losers, he hasn’t confessed to you.

it’s ridiculous. you have been together basically since kindergarten and has been inseparable since then. both of you have seen each other in their highs and lows. you have laughed and cried together. you have made plans for a future where the other is present.

isn’t it already a given that he loves you? does he really have to say it at this point? you must know, right? you know him. he doesn’t even have to talk and you already know what he’s thinking. there is no way that you don’t know he loves you.

“oh, wow—this is a lot!” you exclaim, mostly thankful for all the love that literally just poured out of your locker for you. “it’s like twice as many as last year.”

you start picking up the letters and chocolates on the ground, which isagi helps you with. he is the designated eater of the chocolates you can’t finish.

“too bad they don’t got a chance—” he starts, and you interrupt him to disagree.

“i don’t think so, yoichi. we’re in the right age to be dating people. also, you’ll be leaving me alone once you attend that training, so it wouldn’t hurt to give one of them a chance.”

poor isagi deflates upon hearing that. it never occurred to him that you will be with someone else. to him, it will always be you and him. there could be no extras in your story.

oh, boy. was he wrong to be so complacent. apparently, you have no damn clue that your childhood friend has always loved you. and now, he’s on a dilemma and his other friends have to hear about it.

“it’s your fault, though?” nagi states the obvious. “you never told her, so how’d she know? boring.”

meguru nods eagerly, “but it’s fine, yoichi! there will always be someone out there for you. but of course, you’ll have to suffer watching her with someone else first.”

when he realizes that his friends are no help at all, he takes matters into his own hands and put aside his doubts for a while to muster up the courage to finally confess to you after years of pining.

the day before he goes away for training, he offers to walk you home like he always does. the difference of today from all the other days is that he pulls your wrist just right before you disappear into your door.

“wait a minute,” he says.

you face him again, and without a word, he locks a necklace around your neck with a pendant of a small soccer ball with his initial in the middle. your lips part in awe and in realization of what he is about to say, but you find yourself speechless at how he’s looking at you with the softest eyes he could give only you, with the setting sun behind him.

“i never told you this, but i want you to rememember it starting from now. i love you. i want you to be mine, and mine alone. and this may sound selfish, but will you wait for me until i get back?”

you sigh and caress his cheek on your palm. “honey, i have always loved you too. i am yours already. of course, i will wait for you. so don’t worry about me and do your best over there, alright?”

“you’ll be here when i get back?”

“i’ll be here when you get back.”

SEISHIRO NAGI ༉‧₊˚.

the realization hits him in the middle of a football game. he can’t stop thinking about you and it has been affecting his games. there’s no other explanation for that, right? he likes you. and he has to tell you in front of the ocean of people watching because he just can’t wait but ease the bugging feeling in his stomach.

nagi is not playing like usual, and coach ego has scolded him like five times since the game started.

him being himself, he can’t even bring himself to care because his mind is plagued with thoughts of you. he wants to play and see the field on a levelheaded point of view to match with isagi’s tactics, but boy, are you annoying. you are all he can think about, and it is frustrating him!

“what kinda bullshit was that, nagi?!” reo shouts at him from across the field because the white-haired boy failed to catch the ball meant for him. “focus!”

“i’m really fucking trying, man!” he shouts back painfully and truthfully, because he really is trying but it doesn’t seem to be working.

the game continues on and all nagi can think about are your lips and how they move whenever you smile, your eyes whenever you talk about something you love, your hair when the autumn air makes it dance like leaves on trees, or your small pout when he refuses to give in to your whims!

“goddammit!” he frustratingly utters as he tries to steal the ball from the opponent. he is too close to succeeding until his brain once again flashes a memory of you laughing like the beautiful human being you are.

“you got this, sei!” you cheer from the bleachers, and your voice is much too distinct for his ears not to hear it. almost faster than the speed of light, he looks at you. his breath gets stuck in his throat as soon as he sees you in his jersey, waving up a huge banner with his name on it. in that split second, he got tackled by the players running on the field.

“fucking hell! that’s it!” he grumbles. “oh, y/n. you are damn annoying. making me fall in love with you like a fool. annoying! annoying! annoying!”

ego substitutes him out of the game, and he takes that chance to climb up the bleachers to approach you. the game is yet to restart, so a lot of eyes are on him and his annoyed expression.

you, however, know better. he may be annoyed, but definitely not by you, even though he’s staring straight at you ask he walks. you smile at him.

“you okay, sei?” you ask in concern because he just got tackled to the ground moments before reaching you. “you’ve been out of focus—”

“because you’re here, dammit.”

you laugh through your nose, “what? i thought you wanted me to come watch the game, seishiro..”

“can’t focus now. i don’t know what to do. i can’t stop thinking about you. what’re you doing to me, huh? stop it right now! we need to win!”

“i’m not doing anything, though?”

“that! that pout! stop it!”

seishiro nagi looks incredibly cute like this. he is literally towering over you in his 6’3 prowess and yet, he throws tantrums like a little boy.

“what exactly am i doing to you, sei?”

“you make me want to leave the damn field so i can climb up here to kiss you! because i love you! and i can’t stop thinking about you in that huge jersey!”

your heart overflows with the sudden confession from the boy you have liked for some time now, plus the fact that you have an entire stadium before you, but you are not complaining. not at all.

you take the initiative to tiptoe and kiss seishiro nagi in hopes that it will calm him down to last the game.

“i love you too, sei. no need to be so restless, hm? i’ll be watching from here and i’m not going anywhere, so you better focus!”

like the small peck wasn’t enough, he carries you by your waist to press a deeper kiss on your lips that he has only ever dreamed of kissing.

“okay. i guess that helps. see you after the game.”

he scores the winning goal, and everyone can tell that he is impatient. they are right. as soon as the game ends, he runs to celebrate with you in his arms.

[stromuprisahat]

the S&B show creators: the show is not going to be like the books

us: you promise?

watches the show me: I kina wish the way they worked in the crows was their heist at the ice court (whats it called again?) so we could see the gas chambers and all that they did against the grisha. then switch straight away to Alina being the obivilous idiot that she is because you know

hope they're going to hammer home that alina gets sick with out using her powers regulary and she becomes more aware to what grisha face

do you remember in a interview when Jesse said that Alina should end up alone? and everyone freaked? I do and I agree with her though my OTP for Alina is backbone and just becomes a better person who cares about the people she is part of.

So far it seems they intend to work with the Plight of Grisha the same was LB did. Drop here, hint there, and now back to fun heists and heroine’s love quadrangle!

When you look at the first season: 

Alina doesn’t look as bad as she should in the first episode. Wasting sickness-what?!

Drüskelle are presented as some neanderthals instead of well-oiled Nazi genocidal machine.

Grisha are showed as some privileged show-offs, instead of the hunted minority they are...

I don’t have much hope for this particular plotline, as much as I would love to see them show the full extent of the horrors Grisha have to face. At least a fraction of what did Aleksander have to endure to become who he is today. To show he is, indeed, “defender of people”, not some old creep abusing young girls...

Absolutely agree on Alina endgame. As much as I like Darklina as a concept and I wish the best (”not alone”) for the Darkling, I don’t think Alina’s mature enough to keep up with him yet. She’s young, she wants to see the world, she has some serious issues- her blindness, temper and egocentrism- she should deal with first. As for Sasha, he needs to get over his mother and out of constant fight or flight, before pursuing something serious and I think he deserves time and peace for that. 

[curioussubjects]

OK I WATCHED SACRIFICE

justice4billy, first of all (& hugs for roslin omg that bit when she fixed his hair my heart 😭😭).

second of all: i cannot CANNOT believe the first cheating buffoon was dee of all people this is Very Rich. also, dee, bby, i actually really do like your character but whyyy are you dumping billy for lee. especially since she already knew lee and kara had some messy bullshit going on. the instant karma there OOF. 

no but really im actually surprised in my lj spelunking i never saw folks talk about dee cheating before anyone else did, instead i mostly saw folks complaining about pilots-related infidelity wank. sometimes...missing out on a fandom’s heyday....is better.

anyway, thoughts and prayers to samuel anders for being the only well-adjusted member of the quadrangle of doom. free yourself legend. 

this show cracks me up though using gd ellen as authorial mouthpiece: 

“well it's hard, you know? to choose the people we fall in love with...to love only one person at a time. people like us are more complicated.”

bsg if rdm understood polyamory lolsobs. not that i think pilots could handle polyamory considering how intensely focused they are on each other. 

in other related and unsubtle news: sure is interesting how lee decides to get in the middle of a gunfight (for why??) and ends up getting shot by kara, who as a result unlocks another level in trauma and guilt. and then!!! kara watching lee from the shadows in sickbay while dee is there!! much to think about!!! (also violence) 

and speaking of lee: incredible high int low wis rep lmfao i love my idiot son he’s SO jhkjhkjh

LASTLY, my favorite part of the whole episode was kara in civvies. 10/10 outfit i am looking. also marry me.

---

 the captain’s hand is next...eventually bc im still not over scar. pilots 😩

[taylortruther]

Hi Rae here's kinda my unsolicited analysis of like old kaylors/ gaylors not acknowledging Joe being Taylor's partner : it's the songs. I think after a long time of associating certain lyrics with certain events in kaylor lore or any other ship, you'd have an emotional response to the music based on those things you read and believe in and it could be easier for them to believe that they broke up or they were in a convuluted love quadrangle and they were beards to lovers or whatever that is than to acknowledge that she's not been lying and she can have tender feelings for the person she said she has those feelings for

I think T is a little bit gay but I am so glad I'm not emotionally attached to this idea or any of her speculated relationships because as Taylor swift once said these songs were about me and now they are about you

Also I'm glad I wasn't on the internet when I was younger cause when this kaylor stuff was blowing up right when I started questioning my sexuality and I know I would've jumped right into it and I do think it did happen to some other young queer girls and like I wouldn't want my identity to be validated by whatever I think might be happening in Taylor Swift's life

Like she could be queer even if she's never dated a woman, like we can appreciate her and other more importantly out bi celebrities being a part of the community even if they're seeing someone of the opposite gender, we don't need to create fanfic versions of them in order to relate yknow

well said! i think you've got it nailed, pretty much. like... i've said this before, but it's truly amazing to me that og kaylors have a whole website with an index and table of contents and stuff for their "evidence." no wonder so many people thought kaylor was 100% real and that you were a homophobic idiot for not believing it - because the way the information was presented was so easy to digest, internalize, and defend. assumptions and cherry-picked info was presented as fact. other information that could explain or refute those facts were omitted completely - best example being the fact that josh was present at kissgate, and that people present at the event saw him and karlie making out, and that karlie and taylor never even kissed in any of the footage (which was obvious with other angles.) none of that made it into the 'timelines' at the time and it's unreasonable to expect a single fan to do all the research to verify/refute it on their own, so no wonder they believed it and have a difficult time letting it go now.

but also, repeating this louder for those in the back:

I think T is a little bit gay but I am so glad I'm not emotionally attached to this idea or any of her speculated relationships because as Taylor swift once said these songs were about me and now they are about you

[angieschiffahoi]

my wishful thinking/idiotic predictions on batwoman’s future:

- alice will give kate circe’s face without knowing it’s her sister (that makes sense) 

- circe/kate will dye her hair blonde, just ‘cause? idk 

- evil kate will beat the shit out of everybody on the bat team at some point (including maybe sophie/her dad? who knows)

- when she gets her memories back she’ll have an existential crisis 

- in the meantime ryan and sophie start to do the devil’s tango whether it’s romantic or just sexy i’m into it 

- when they find out circe is kate, sophie kisses her, ryan is hurt, kate has a meltdown

- ryan and sophie break up (sad)

- kate won’t deserve the cowl anymore, ‘cause she did crime

- kate will feel like she won’t deserve sophie either, because she did bad 

- kate will stay in a mentorship/other type of role 

- love triangle between kate x ryan x sophie in season 3

- love quadrangle between kate ryan sophie and julia

- where are the straights? 

- ANGST

[serpenteve]

I'd hope since Mal's dickishness has been written out of the show, they do more serious rewrites to S2--considering it drives half of the second book's plot lmao--and these rewrites mean that characters of color like Alina and Zoya (Heck, Nadia too, since her gf should show up on Nikolai's ship) get less half-baked characterization

Yes! 🙌🏽🙌🏽

The whole second half of Siege and Storm is so insufferably boring but its made worse with the pointless Malina drama, especially when literally all their problems would have been solved if they just talked to each other instead of being idiots but 😤😤!!! I am asking too much of these YA books lmao

I predict they will completely take out that whole argument since it was the defining and most polarizing moment for why people hated book!M*l as well as a moment readers didn't feel like he even redeemed himself from considering what a retconned 180 his character does in the last book. I can see them still adding Nikolai's proposal but they will probably have Alina be the one to shoot it down quickly and kill any of that weird love quadrangle stuff from the books so we don't have to deal with a jealous and possessive Mal

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Order 23 Job

leverage 2.03

Nate: Nobody wants to see this guy just get a slap on the wrist, Ronald, I mean, but killing him? He's a thief, not a murder.

literally !!! this !!!

I’m not even going to go into current events but no matter what someone has done, ESPECIALLY if they haven’t had a trial yet they do NOT deserve to be killed or murdered or anyone (side eyes the US police system). I said what I said.

- - - - -

Ronald: He was smart, responsible, and Armenian, like us.

Nate: Yeah, well, they call these affinity crimes, people who prey on fellow members of ethnic groups

- - - - -

Hardison: Eddie's new address in Fort Walton Beach, Florida, is the original "Club Fed".

Eliot: He's got his own nine-hole golf course. Vegan menu.

Hardison: This dude can play Frisbee with the guys from Enron in the quadrangle.

Eliot: I hate those guys. 18 months in a country club, this guy.

Parker: Yeah, and then when he gets done, he gets to come home and collect his hidden cash

we love to see the ot3 angry about the same things while sitting close together

+ eliot is wearing a flannel in this one

- - - - -

parker doing a happy dance in the vents when she knocks the guy out

- - - - -

(Hardison unpacks computer monitors and sets up a workstation while a video feed of Parker making the bed plays on a laptop. Hardison plays audio sounds on the laptop)

Nate: Hey.

Hardison: Hey. I put speakers in Eddie's room and every 3 feet down the hallway. So if you want to hear footsteps coming toward you, you slide the cursor this way. (demonstrates) And walking away, this way. I made you a master audio file with all the stuff we recorded, plus the sound effects. You mix them any way you want. You're the dj

that’s actually really smart

- - - - -

Parker: All right, well, here's the stuff from the van plus almost everything from the list. (opens a bag) And by the way, nurses haven't worn skirts with white stockings since the '70s. Sorry.

(hardison and eliot share a look)

dumb idiot boys that think it’d be funny to see their future gf in an old nurse uniform

- - - - -

Hardison: If you don't give me that shirt--

Eliot: Listen to me, son, you need those fingers to type on your little keyboard, don't you?

Hardison: So you know, a bully is just a cowboy with low self-esteem.

Eliot: What was that, now?

Hardison: I said what?

Eliot: My insecure ass is gonna be wearing this shirt

- - - - -

Parker: You're not claustrophobic, are you, Mr. Maranjian? (pushes him down the hall, leaning down to whisper in his ear) Because you've got nothing to be afraid of.

I LOVE IT WHEN SHE FUCKS WITH PEOPLE

- - - - -

(Eliot stops to look at the boy, who looks up at him with tears in his eyes)

Hardison: So, say I mention "The Search for Spock", what do you do?

Eliot: I don't have a TV.

Hardison: Everybody has TVs. Dead people have TVs. Damn it.

(Hardison walks away, but Eliot remains, looking at the boy and his father)

- - - - -

Nate: See, y-you tell someone they have a bunch of symptoms and the information gets processed in the executive center of the brain, right? It's job is to question assumptions, start an argument. But if you suggest symptoms, you can bypass all that.

Parker: Like subliminal advertising?

Nate: It's actually neurolinguistic programming, you know, the gateway to the amygdala, which is the fear center of the brain. You asked what we're selling. That's-- that's what we're selling.

Parker: So we're selling...

Nate: Fear.

Parker: Oh. Fear.

Nate: Yeah.

Parker: Cool.

Nate: Yeah

- - - - -

Parker (looking at monitor): Wait, his nose. Is that...

Nate: real blood?

Eddie: I'm-- I'm bleeding! I'm bleeding!

Nate: Yes. Yes, it is.

Eddie: Hello?! Can anyone hear me?! Please!

Parker: Did you just give a guy a nosebleed with the power of your mind?

Nate: Amygdala mania. Hmm. Almond tonsils.

Parker: Is it just me, or has Nate gotten a little sadistic since he quit drinking?

Sophie: Is it just me, or does that make him even more attractive

- - - - -

Hardison: Eliot, can you talk? What's Charlie doing?

[Hallway]

Eliot: I haven't gotten there yet. (looks into room with Trent and his son)

Hardison: No wonder I couldn't hear you on my coms. Eliot, stop checking out the nurses and get your ass down to Charlie!

Eliot: I'm on my way, all right? Shut up.

(Eliot takes out his earbud and walks into the exam room to Trent)

Eliot: Excuse me, sir. Can I talk to you for a second, please

eliot cares SO MUCH

- - - - -

(Eliot grabs Trent’s arm and bends him over the railing)

Eliot: That bruise on his cheek's a week old. The one on his neck is three days. He get that falling, too?

Trent: You don't believe me? Ask him.

Eliot: Why, huh? So I can hear how well his daddy taught him to lie?

Trent: If you're gonna arrest me, go ahead. I'll be out in five minutes.

Eliot: I ain't gonna arrest you.

(Eliot nearly throws Trent over the railing letting him dangle for a moment before throwing him back against the wall. He opens Trent’s wallet and looks at his license)

Eliot: Randall Trent, 73 Austin Street. (puts wallet in his pocket) I got my eye on you now.

Trent: How many guys don't even see their kids? I bet this place is full of deadbeat dads. But a man who provides for his family, who shows his son a firm hand, he's the bad guy? Go back to your speed traps.

(Trent leaves the stairwell. Eliot looks pissed)

eliot is SO ANGRY I love my kind-hearted man

also high key I really thinks this gives an insight as to what his childhood was like

like,,, he saw the signs RIGHT AWAY. he was primed to notice them. he saw right through any act that man would have pulled because he saw what was truly going on, and things like that hit harder and closer when they’ve happened to you or someone in your life

- - - - -

Sophie: You know, I once had to play six parts in "Nicholas Nickleby" and Mrs. Squeers and Phib had a bloody song together.

- - - - -

on today’s edition of non-weapons-that-eliot-uses-as-weapons, we have eliot using the morgue body cabinet doors and a gross morgue body part (?) bowl

- - - - -

(Eliot puts Charlie on top of one of the bodies in the drawers and closes him inside before putting his earbud back in)

Hardison: You think you can just ignore me, like I don't have any feelings, like I never sat there, never listened to you talk all night about tryin--

Eliot: Hardison, have you been talking the whole time?

Hardison: I wouldn't have had to if you didn't turn off your daggum com

hardison worries about eliot and gets angry when he takes his coms out because he cares

- - - - -

Hardison: Oh, man. Come on.

(Hardison moves to tug Eliot before he heads off. Eliot looks from the boy to the police coming into the hospital before entering the boy’s room and pulling the curtain)

Eliot: Hey. How's the arm, my man?

Randy: It's okay.

Eliot: Yeah? My name's Eliot. What's your name?

(police officers continue to move through the hallways)

Randy: Randy.

Eliot: Randy. Oh, I like that name. (sits on bed) I got an uncle named Randy. There sure are a lot of cops around here, huh? You know, if you wanted, you could go up to one and tell them what happened to your arm. Hey, Randy. You don't have to be afraid anymore.

Randy: Dad knows these cops, you know? They come to my house. They'll drink beer. I mean… I can't

this is so, so sad but also hardison’s casual touching and intimacy with eliot gives me life

- - - - -

this is the one episode parker is tased and not the one doing the tasing

- - - - -

okay but wHO ACTUALLY, IN REAL LIFE, LEAVES THEIR KEYS IN THEIR UNLOCKED CAR

- - - - -

PARKER USED ELIOTS PUNCHING TACTICS (from the last episode) TO KNOCK THEIR MARK OUT

- - - - -

(Eddie uses the stunner to knock Parker out. As soon as he moves away, she gets up, lifting her shirt to show a vest)

hmmm I wonder what type of vest she used to block the electric shock ???

- - - - -

(team walks out of the courthouse and heads down the stairs)

Nate: So, here's everything you need to know about criminal law. Every crime has two elements, Actus reus, the act itself, and mens rea, Literally "The Guilty Mind."

Hardison: Wait. Now you're a doctor and a lawyer?

Nate: Yes. Now, for escape, the prisoner has to both break out of custody and show the intent to escape.

Sophie: Wait, so if, let's say, a prisoner was taken hostage during a jailbreak then he wouldn't be guilty of escape.

Nate: That's a perfect example.

Hardison: Kiss ass.

Nate: Which brings us back to our friend Eddie and how the brain reacts to fear. In the heat of the moment Eddie didn't ask himself a simple question, who would doubt his guilty mind?

- - - - -

Bob: Damn right it is. You and your partner, you're all right. I don't know how to thank you, though.

(Eliot looks at Bob for a long moment, then pulls Trent’s license from his pocket and hands it to Bob)

Eliot: Do one thing for me.

Bob: You got it.

[Exterior Apartment]

(Bob knocks on the door and Randy opens it)

Bob: Randy? I'm Deputy United States Marshal Robert Corville. I'm from Boston. I think you and I need to talk.

Trent: Who are you talking to out there? (pulls door open wider and sees Bob)

Bob: Come on.

(Randy looks at Trent then follows Bob out of the apartment)

Bob: It's all right, son. Come on. You're gonna be okay, Randy.

(Bob gives Trent one last look before moving away. From down the street, Eliot watches as Bob and Randy get into a car and drive away)

eliot watching over to make sure the kid was okay in the end? my HEART

[museswithinx]

"/At least/ half," Connor agreed. He loved Haley. With his whole heart, he loved her, but he wasn't about to make a spectacle of them. Laughing as she jokes about that very thought, he replies, "if I ever do, you will know something is wrong with me, so seek immediate help." He got the whole being upset about things not working out, but Tristan was family and Connor didn't like how careful he had to be about his own happiness just because Ulrik wasn't it for Marlene. "In a rare moment, everybody wins. I'll toast to that."

“A solid 75% at least,” she adjust with a smirk. Aubrey must have soaked up the romance gene because Haley really did not get it. Connor had always been her person, the person she loved most, but that didn’t mean she was going to make an idiot of herself or turn all mushy over it. The transition from best friends to lovers had been so easy because not much had changed from their norm. They were just more closely bonded (a thing she did not even think was possible) and intimate now. 

Laughing at his retort, she says, “That is a disturbing thought and I can’t even visualize you like that. But Ulrik did just serenade the local therapist into sticking around this circus, so you’d be all covered. Worst case scenario, I could just have your little cousin come tinker with some wiring in your head and that’ll be that.” She smirks before growing more serious. In truth it was a relief everything was getting resolved. That whole thing had been messy as hell and she made a mental note to check in with Locklyn about it soon. “I will also toast to that.” Reaching for the cheap beer she’d bought, she lifts it toward him. “To this messy ass love quadrangle hopefully dying.”

[flying-elliska]

S5 Review pt 2 : the Bad

So in my last meta I listed a lot of reasons to like this season...but then why did it not (at least to me) all add up together ?  Looking back, I can think of so many clips that I thought were incredible. But looking back at the season in general, I just feel a big ‘meh’ and it’s sort of puzzling - why exactly ?  Here is where I thought the season could have been a lot better :

I loathe love triangles : I hate the trope in itself. Is S5 the worst example of it ever ? No, it served somewhat of a thematic purpose and the resolution was interesting. But I can’t help it, when I feel a love triangle coming on, I generally disconnect emotionally because I have been annoyed to hell and back by it before - one big offender being Skam France s4, in which the love triangle/quadrangle marked the beginning of the season going down in flames, with it overshadowing everything else and making the characters behave in completely obnoxious and puzzling ways. S5 isn’t quite as bad, it feels more respectful of the characters, but I find it weird that the writers chose a love triangle again on the heels of the reception of s4. 

The problem with this trope is not ‘oh we don’t want drama ever’ it’s just so bloody annoying, so trite and overused. It rests on centuries of sexist tropes : either a wishy washy girl in the middle who doesn’t know what’s good for her/her own heart ; or two girls competing for a man’s attentions. It often ends in the fandom villifying the women involved no matter the shape of the triangle, comparing them against each other, which definitely happened this time (Twitter was just so annoying this season), and this whole ‘team x’ thing gives me hives, as the assumption that this is what young women viewers care most about. 

Also it generally involves the characters showing that they have very little self respect, letting themselves be walked over, bad communication, implications about what the ‘better woman/man’ should be like, cheating, etc...it’s very rarely fun or interesting to watch because we’ve seen it a thousand times before in teenage soap operas. Again, the s5 ending avoided the total trainwreck but this is a show you watch in real time, and for weeks I was afraid it was going to be absolutely terrible, and it ruined a big part of my experience of the season. When they introduced Noée I started being scared, and when it became clear Arthur was developing feelings for her, I basically noped out emotionally. I started following it in a much more detached manner, I wasn’t looking forward to the clips anymore, I stopped writing meta so much. And it sucks. I wanted to love the season. But this was just not a ride I really wanted to be on. 

Alexia (and Noee) deserved better : I love Alexia and developing her character is one of the best things Skam France ever did. In OG, the character of Chris, if interesting, is just continually reduced to the ‘funny fat friend’ persona and it really sucks. So giving Alexia a real personality, making her bisexual, giving her more of a role in s3, making her a dancer and a singer was really cool. I’m bi myself and I spent most of my high school struggling with my weight and if I’d had a character like her, who radiates self-acceptance, it would have meant so much to me. I was really stoked for her to have more of a role in s5 - only to spend most of the season feeling really sad for her. It was just...not fun. I so wish she could have had her own season and her own story that didn’t revolve around a dude she was so supportive of and still ended up treating her like shit. 

Also, real talk : when is a curvy girl actually a love interest without it being shown as funny or not good enough ? Especially of the main character ? Almost never. Coline might have lost some weight, but she’s still written as a curvy girl this season and it’s an important part of the character. So for her to have this particular role this season - the girl that isn’t romanticized, that doesn’t get to have the cute and thrilling moments, that is just sort of there and patient and understanding as if she couldn’t get anything better, it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Sure the end of the season did her more justice but god it took so long and in the meantime, it just felt...very ill considered and careless. 

In the same way, I wanted to love Noée, I thought she was amazing, but because of her role in the plot I just felt this instinctive defiance towards her character. It would have been so cool to have her in a friend role, or even a love interest outside of the triangle or I don’t know like...have someone else fall in love with her. Also, I just did not understand why she loved Arthur ? Like she just met the dude a few times, and he’s mostly been a total asshole to her, who makes very little efforts to communicate with her...I get she could get attracted to him but love ??? The moment where she tells him ‘I love you’ felt demeaning to her, like the moment in OG where Noora falls after running after William. It’s like, Arthur has just been an enormous asshole to her, and she pushes herself to do something she’s never been comfortable with in the first place ? Why ? This show romanticizes teenage boys being assholes and girls being desperate way too much. 

The Skam dilemma, love vs politics and “Let’s all just be nice.” : There is a reoccuring problem accross all Skams, starting with the OG : they bring up very political topics, usually in the beginning of the season, and then they...don’t really do anything with them. In the OG, Noora’s feminism is really just window-dressing and we see her bend over backwards to accomodate this super toxic asshole into her life. And we see Sana’s struggles as a Muslim in Norwegian society, but then love drama takes over, and it’s waved away with an insulting ‘everyone should just communicate more’ ending. Skamfr s4 made it even worse, by making the girl squad a lot more overtly racist, never having them make a big gesture for Imane, putting her in a position to apologize, and never showing that the girl squad had an idea of where they messed up or real growth. It was insanely frustrating, especially since the beginning of the season was so good at showing all the little micro-agressions. In the end it felt like all the racism was just there to motivate Imane’s breakdown for plot reasons and not to actually say something. S5 never stoops quite that low, but there was a bit of a similar dynamic at hand here. Instead of the boys actually have a real conversation after their fight, most of the denouement of the show was consecrated to talking about the love drama. It was, again, as if the focus of the show was on the wrong things, and it robs you of the catharsis you’re expecting. As if they used the love drama for a metaphor for the actual issues, have it do all the emotional heavy lifting, and in so doing bypass having to adress the actual problem. There is this weird ideas that the audience of the show - teenagers and young women, mostly, in the end care the most about the love stuff and that everything else has to take a backseat and...this feels neither a good message to send, nor realistic to me. I like it when shows about teenagers decenter love and show the real complexity of their characters’ lives without making them paragons of virtue or wokeness - Derry Girls is a brilliant example of that. Skam, and Skam France in particular, feel a bit immature still compared to those, punching below their weight for shows that pride themselves on their social impact. 

Hit with the idiot stick : Speaking of underwhelming resolutions - yes, the boy squad messing up with Arthur, I found relevant and realistic. But...did they really even adress it ? I was really hoping for the boys to have more of a conversation, for Arthur to open up to them about what he went through, about his father, to tell them that they should have asked him/listened to him more, etc...and I know ‘teenage boys’ or whatever but ...aren’t they trying to change those stereotypes too ? Like when Arthur went to see Basile, they must have had a conversation, why the fuck did we not see it ? That’s the emotional bond I cared most about ! And we just had a hug ...underwhelming tbh. Same Arthur talking with Lucas but then it was just about their love lives ? Or when they came to the hospital, again, it was just about the love drama ? God it really sucked out the oxygen out of the season. The resolutions of those things just being hugs or speeches or handholding at the end felt hollow, and a lot less powerful than they could have been. And again, there has to be a tolerance for messiness, but I found the boys so incredibly dumb at several points in the season. Especially them being like ‘oh cheating isn’t so bad’ after they found out that Arthur’s dad was cheating on his wife ? Like why the fuck did they take Patrick’s side ? What kind of lack of empathy ? It would feel a lot more coherent for teenage boys to be furious at the destruction of a friend’s family, not talk like cynical 50 yr olds who just divorced for the fifth time. It felt so unrealistic and stupid and just meant for Arthur to finally clue in to the idea that cheating and lying is bad maybe, himself first without external clues from characters that really should have known better by now. Especially Yann and Lucas advising Arthur to keep his mouth shut after what happened in s1 like...did whoever write this read the previous seasons of the show ? There were just too many times where the boy squad felt out of character and mandated to be idiots just for plot reasons, and it felt...very crudely drawn. Disappointing, because the beginning of the season was awesome. But again, Skam France failed in delivering real growth for their friend group. At times, it even felt like character regression. Them holding hands at the end of the season made me emo but damn it could have been so much more.

Also some plot twists - the car crash in particular, just felt dumb and unnecessary, seriously. 

A too distant main : In the end, like I said before, my main issue is that I didn’t feel as connected to Arthur as I wanted to. I mean, the cheating bit was just very unrelatable to me, after how they showed how supportive Alexia was and how she supposedly made him happy like...why. But maybe that’s just me. Regardless - in the first few episodes he felt distant in an interesting way, because it made sense for his character to be so walled off. But...I felt like his self discovery was way too blurred with the ‘oh I like Noee’ part to the point where it ended up being obscured. I would have loved more clips on his own, maybe something more about him questioning his path in life, whether he truly wants to do medecine. And like apparently he liked fine arts ? Then, why didn’t we see anything about that ? Did he paint the x-men painting ??? That feels so relevant, why the fuck didn’t we see that ? Also why didn’t we see him take those LSF classes with Camille and actually make an effort this time ? Having almost all of his realization moments tied to Noee was just...the manic pixie dream girl trope. That’s what it’s called, when you use a quirky female character as a device for the emotional development of the male one. It’s...not flattering tbh. And then that farm episode - it was funny but for a week I felt like I completely lost touch with Arthur’s POV ? I’m really not sure that was the right choice. All in all, there were just not enough introspective, small, intimate clips for it to really feel like Skam, and that’s a shame tbh. I recognize a lot of myself in Arthur, and Robin acted his heart out to make him relatable, but because of the writing, there were way too many times where I was reluctant and puzzled instead of in it. I saw several people saying it was too much tell and not enough show and I think that’s very on point. I feel like a lot of Arthur’s actual character development happened behind the scenes in moments where we didn’t see it.  

Yeah...I think as a conclusion most of my issues are tied back to the preponderance of the love triangle. The season wasn’t bad but god it could have been so excellent if they hadn’t gone that route, and this swerve from greatness is just sooooooo frustrating. I don’t think it’s enough to condemn the whole season but...

Next up : some things I’m just very ??? about and a general conclusion. 

Bonus bitching round, fandom edition : oh my god, I don’t get into this often but...the fandom was so bloody annoying this season. Starting with the people sending death threats over a tv show (like...what the fuck) or thinking them being nasty assholes is somehow for the greater good (???), from people that don’t want anyone to use even 1 analysis capacity (especially on Twitter) and go beyond praising everything on the show, or the people either villifying Alexia and Noee and indulging in that ‘team’ crap, to the people that shoot down every single detail of the show without discernment or accuse the creators of being ableist sexist garbage or maltreating their actors ... And then you have the other remake stans coming to pollute the tags talking about how we were all stupid for liking the show in the first place. Like...seriously, what is up with you people. I really loved the block button this season, damn. 

[dreamyyang]

To All The Boys I’ve Hated — 01

Summary: “What starts with ‘f’ and ends with ‘uck’? Firetruck! Welcome to Camp Firetruck, we hope you aren’t carrying any carrots because the demon rabbits will attack you.”

or

Three weeks of summer camp with the seven boys you hated the most was a clusterfuck of chaos waiting to happen.

Warning(s): themes of bullying (here and there), behaviour that really shouldn’t be condoned, cursing, a few questionable life decisions, weird animals and even weirder camp counsellors, author has never been to a camp so spare her if she fucks up

A/N: it’s here y’all

previous | next

Your heart ached, its walls clenching in anguish. The pain coursed through your veins like electricity, the sparks concentrated in the cavity in your chest. The light from your eyes had vanished. It had been snatched away from your irises, leaving behind a shadow of its former glow of happiness. Your lips were dry and chapped, the lines on your lips ran deep, but not as deep as your emotional scars—

“Wipe that look of long suffering off your face would you? You look like we’re sending you off to a concentration camp,” your mother said, exasperated.

“But birth giver, do you not see that you’ve thrust upon me a fate that I believe is just as painful—”

Your mother only rolled her eyes, tossing a pile of clothes at you, “Save the theatrics for summer camp, would you? I hear they tell stories every night. You can recite your tragic soliloquy then. Now start packing, you don’t want a late night.”

Your body lazily slid down the side of your bed, limbs flopping onto the floor in response. Your mother smacked you on the back of your head, “You’re dragging the clothes down with you.”

You pouted exaggeratedly, speaking in a baby voice, “Sowwy mummy, pwease forgive me.”

“I’m this close to selling you.”

You huffed, making a face at your mother’s back as she left the room. After sitting on the ground and staring at your open suitcase for what felt like an eternity, you finally got off the floor. You grabbed the clothes on your bed as well as those from the clothes basket your mother had left behind and began packing. Your mind was already trying to come up with ways to get out of going to camp.

To be fair, your mother was sending you to a place where you’d had some of your best memories as a child. You’d spent two weeks of your summer vacation at Camp Firetruck since you were six years old but you stopped going by the time you were eleven. Now going back at sixteen just felt weird to you. Wouldn’t you be too old by now?

Of course, there was a bigger reason as to why you didn’t want to go back to camp but you forced yourself not to think about it. You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to mentally push out your thoughts. It took you a few minutes, but you finally opened your eyes, having been able to move your thoughts to the back of your mind. You stared down at your suitcase for a moment before slamming it shut and zipping it up, as if that was a way for you to keep your memories at bay.

You stood up, a queasy sensation in your stomach making your knees feel weak. You let out a shaky sigh, rolling your eyes at yourself.

“Fucking hell, y/n, it’s not that deep.”

The loudness was unsettling. Camp was far more chaotic than you remembered and you were feeling extremely uncomfortable. There was a flurry of activity around you, campers of all ages were running around, parents were yelling goodbye and telling their demonic kin to behave themselves and the camp’s theme song ‘Firetruck’ played loudly in the background. In the middle of all the life and activity was you, standing stiffly with your suitcase in hand, backpack on your shoulders and a terrified expression on your face.

You were trying to get to the quadrangle where orientation would be held but there was so much going on and you felt so out of place. A hilarious contrast to your previous summers. You used to fit in perfectly. Perhaps that was why camp felt more normal back then, you were just as loud and full of energy as it was— and still is. After what felt like an eternity, you managed to make it towards the front.

Having noticed that you were struggling, a boy with bright orange hair walked up to you, “Need help carrying your bag?”

You shook your head, “No, it’s just that there’s so much going on, I’m scared I’ll hit someone with my suitcase.”

“It’s fine, they’ll just laugh it off if camp is still as chill as I remember it to be.”

“You haven’t been here in a while? Me neither!”

“Yeah, I moved back to Shanghai for a while. That’s my hometown. Well, city. You?”

You bit your lip, refusing to recall the memories that had been in your head the previous day, “I got busy during the summer. So yeah…”

You trailed off before realising that you had yet to introduce yourself, “I’m y/n, by the way. You are?”

The boy tilted his head slightly, “Don’t you remember me?”

You frowned and blinked, “Should I?”

The boy seemed amused as he smiled, shaking his head, “Nevermind. Well, at least we can get to know each other this summer?”

You smiled weakly and nodded. You didn’t get along well with boys, especially those your age, but that was mainly because the boys at your school weren’t exactly the nicest people. However, you were sent to camp because your parents felt you were being too asocial. This could be a chance to break out of your shell and prove to yourself that not all boys were terrible.

He hadn’t told you his name yet and you were about to ask again when a familiar boy walked up to the two of you, “I see you’ve met y/n.”

Park Jisung. What was he doing here at camp? You would’ve expected that his parents would take their little golden boy on some sort of exciting trip abroad. You tried your best not to feel disheartened but your hopes of having a male friend for the first time in years was already making its way down the drain. If he was friends with Jisung then it was unlikely that he was going to like you for long.

Suddenly, the unsettling feeling came rushing back along with a distant memory. One of twelve year old Zhong Chenle shrieking in front of the entire class, “Y/n has boy and girl parts!”

Your eyes snapped from Jisung to Chenle, panic rising in your mind. There was no way you were dealing with this. Not for three weeks. You cleared your throat, preparing yourself to grab your suitcase and make a run for it. All of a sudden, the sharp feedback from a microphone breached your ears, directing yours as well as the rest of the campers’ attention to a familiar bespectacled boy who was struggling with his megaphone. Your palms grew sweaty as you watched in horror.

“Uhm, check? Testing? He-hello?”

There stood one of your biggest nightmares. Clad in the dorky lime green camp shirt and jeans with a cap shaped like a siren with a smiley face. Mark Lee. The tension in your mind built as he continued to fumble with his megaphone. That malicious, soul-sucking wretch who’d be sent from the murky abyss of hell to personally torture. The smiling cicada with chibi eyes could only mean one thing. You were going to suffer.

“Yo campers!”

“Fighting haeyadwae!”

“Mom please pick me up, I’m begging you!”

“No, y/n, what a ridiculous reason! Just because the boys you don’t get along with are at the same camp as you are, doesn’t mean you should leave,” you could practically hear your mother rolling her eyes as she spoke.

“But ma—”

“No! You kids are so ridiculous, you fight all the time and make it hard for everybody else.”

“Ma—”

“Nothing doing, y/n, you are staying at Camp. God, when did you become such a brat? You’ll really use any excuse to stay inside your room like a bat.”

“Seriously though—”

“Natural sunlight won’t hurt you, now get off the phone, I’m driving.”

“Fine, I love y—”

Your mother cut the call because you could finish your sentence. You sighed, you were definitely one of two things: either someone who committed a heinous sin in their past life or an adopted child.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well?”

You shrieked, surprised by the sudden voice. You spun around, involuntarily reaching out to punch the owner of the voice. However, you just ended up punching air.

“Ouch, that hurt,” Na Jaemin said, sarcastically.

You internally groaned, you were really hoping to avoid interacting with Mark and his friends. Especially Jaemin. Out of the seven devils, he was inarguably the worst.

“Why were you eavesdropping?”

“Why are you being such a baby and crying for your mommy?” He retorted with a grin which you ached to punch off his face.

“None of your damn business,” you snapped before walking towards your assigned cabin, making it a point to harshly brush your shoulder against his own.

You heard him mumble to himself but you couldn’t be bothered to try and listen. You were just fixated on appearing confident as you walked away.

“Channel your inner Hwasa, channel your inner Hwasa,” your mind repeated until you’d reached your cabin.

You swore you could feel Jaemin’s gaze burning through the back of your head but that could just be the self consciousness that he brough out in you. Na Jaemin was easily the most intimidating boy you knew. Standing within even a centimetre’s radius of him terrified you. You fought the urge to behave like the stupid main character from the horror movies you loved and turn around to look at the monster creeping around behind you. You swallowed, your throat uncomfortably dry and your palms sweaty. Before you could reach out to twist the door knob, your cabin mate stepped out, pushing you off balance. Your eyes widened as you caught a glimpse of Lee Jeno, his face mirroring your surprised expression.

Jeno panicked, his arms reaching out to grab you. Thankfully, he managed to pull you back to your feet. Your scalp was less than thankful though, it was burning with pain. Jeno, being the idiot he was, had grabbed a fistful of your hair to keep you from falling. You grimaced, your hands massaging the back of your scalp as you softly hissed in pain. The boy in front of you was still wide-eyed, words spilling from his mouth incoherently. You held up a hand, your face still scrunched in pain, halting Jeno’s unintelligible apology.

To his credit, Jeno looked incredibly apologetic. And slightly scared of what you were going to say; you weren’t a person of few words. Indubitably, you were going to give the poor boy an earful. His friends had teasingly mentioned that he looked like a puppy and he silently prayed that he would look pitiful enough for you to not raise your voice.

Your angry rant never came. Jaemin had strutted up to you with a pleased grin on his incessantly chapped lips, “Getting kinky are we? Gosh, at least do it inside.”

Your glare was quickly diverted to him, much to Jeno’s relief. You were aching to give the both of them a piece of your mind but you couldn’t work up the courage to do it. You hated how weak Jaemin made you feel. Clenching your hands into sweaty fists, your gaze awkwardly darted away from Jaemin to the bright red ‘9’ that had been painted onto the cabin door. You were at the correct cabin but why had Jeno been inside your cabin? Your mind began to race with thoughts. Perhaps him and Jaemin were trying to pull a prank on you. That would explain why Jaemin had been keeping an eye on you a few moments earlier.

Trying your best to muster up the courage to sound harsh, you glanced at Jaemin for a second before speaking, “I’d prefer it if you stayed away from my cabin, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb.”

You could have sworn you saw Jaemin’s eyes twinkle. He jokingly stood at attention and saluted you, “The Tweedle twins reporting for cabin mate duty.”

“Fucking pardon?”

[scarlettaagni]

OK, so I know it’s important to the book that Lanyon doesn’t know anything about Hyde 

BUT 

Imagine, if you will…

Alright, so Hyde is one ugly son of a bitch, a bastard of a man, if you will, and he knows it. 

And on a personal note I think he is the most sexless, unappealing (short of being a rotting corpse) that a human being can be. Like, if I drew him dressed down he would be one big censor blur, and he knows it. No one deserves to be exposed to that beyond his little raccoon man hands and his face which is 50% jaundiced eyes and 50% horrible teeth. And he knows it. 

But in spite of, or because of this, he has an unlimited amount of confidence; he is a shameless flirt. Sure, he gets turned down 10 out of 10 times, but that’s not gonna stop him, because if there’s two things he’s good at, it’s he never knows when to stop, and that he never stops swinging (be it metaphorically or physically, with a wooden blunt object)

Now, as you also know, Hyde wears all of Jekyll’s repressed emotions and tendencies on his sleeve. Hence, shameless flirt with lots of confidence. He does what Jekyll can’t, either due to reputation or self-doubt or what have you.

Now, imagine if he were to meet Lanyon. Maybe in public, maybe somewhere more private like a sparsely populated park or a restaurant.

Hyde would just become a total Brock, stealing from vendors so he could dramatically brandish a bouquet of flowers or some good wine and kneel and profess his love, meanwhile Lanyon would be equal parts confused, half-heartedly flattered, annoyed, but also amused, and maybe some disproportionately small pity cause he can tell Hyde is a habitual strikeout with the ladies. And the fellas. And everyone else.

But after several turn downs, Lanyon would frustratedly turn Hyde down once more, but with a more in depth explanation of how he couldn’t possibly, looking away, embarrassed.

“There’s already someone… I would like to see.”

Hyde’s not necessarily unfazed, but he doesn’t care. “Someone else? What’s his name and address, I just want to talk to him in the middle of nowhere, far from any cops.” He’s genuinely curious if Lanyon has met someone new, or if he’s getting together with a friend he might know, because Jekyll hasn’t heard from Lanyon about any changes in his social life.

Lanyon is even more embarrassed, and says “You probably know him if you live around here. Er, do you know… [sigh] Dr. Jekyll?”

Hyde:

Hyde: [AGGRESSIVE PROCESSING] n… no, not personally…

Then Lanyon launches into a little hissy fit about how much of a dipshit Jekyll is with his stupid poppycock “science” but also how he occupies Lanyon’s every thought, his stupid handsome face and his dumb glasses that compliment his fashionable but dorky outfit and his calming touch and his enthusiasm for the new and unknown and his gentle smile—

Hyde: [AGGRESSIVE COMPUTING]

Then Lanyon sighs, relieved he’s said it out loud, but also out of a sad annoyance. To top it all off, he says he’s pretty sure Jekyll is seeing someone else, so even if Lanyon could swallow his pride, he can’t do anything about his crush.

Now this is news to Hyde, who IS Jekyll, so he incredulously asks WHO could this other person POSSIBLY be?!

“Ough, some young man named Hyde. I heard he’s a real piece of work but that Jekyll showers him with money and gifts and anything else he wants. He’s clearly infatuated with this Hyde person.”

Hyde:

Narrator: And it was at this moment that Hyde realized he never properly introduced himself to Lanyon.

Hyde, internally: [FAX MACHINE NOISES]

So, you’re probably thinking, oh this is easy! Hyde can dissuade Lanyon from his theory, either through divulging his identity or not, and/or he can turn back into Jekyll and clear things up that way and seal the deal because the two clearly like each other!

Although Hyde bluescreened at the moment, only he has the confidence to engage in any sort of romance, let alone a volatile mixup like this. All Jekyll can, would, and will do about the situation, as himself, is scream on his balcony. Or write homoerotic poetry about an unnamed lover in the isolation of his lab. And Lanyon certainly isn’t going to fix anything cause he’s the one who’s mistaken within Jekyll’s already stupid web of identity fraud and lies, and can’t swallow his pride long enough to give anything a shot! Plus he would drop dead from tuberculosis if he ever saw the ugly truth.

So, yes, this is a love quadrangle where three of the points are all the same person. And the two actual people that are here are both idiots. Dramatic IDIOTS. Hell, it could end up a hexagon if Utterson and Poole involve themselves in the stupidity.

Everything they do will make things worse for each other and themselves, or somehow escalate things, because that is what Victorian scientist protags do.

So, imagine, if you will.

Imagine.

[postimalone]

I tried my hand at writing erotica, its non fiction based on my daily life. Tried to keep it as gender non specific as I could.

 r/Ruiasoftporn

 mom says, always brush your teeth in the morning:

I have read about liminal spaces. The waiting rooms between the Then and Now.  The connection between what was and what will be. This  Dadar railway skywalk in the cold morning feels like one. I relish cold mornings in Mumbai. I relish anything cold in Mumbai. We don’t get a lot of cold here.

In movies, they always show liminal spaces empty.  Like it’s your own personal moment . Lonely . But I don’t feel lonely here. Maybe before you, maybe before us.  There is a floating anticipation in this chilly air. This space is my waiting room for now, till you come. Till I see you. Waving at me, on this bridge lightly shaking from the footfalls. Lightly shaking like me.

You arrive with a smile on your lips and sleep in your eyes. You hug me good morning and I hold you still. I’m listening to my favourite song and the saxophone trill is perfect for this moment. I push a earphone in your ear and kiss you tight. It takes you a moment to register, but you pick up quickly. You pick me up quickly, and push open our mouths. Tongue on tongue at this time of the day is almost taboo but we are far from our beds and freshly brushed and bathed to start the day. Brushed mouths and fresh bodies roiling against each other.Your hands in my hair, my hands on your back. And now you aren’t sleepy anymore , rather energetic. I’m pushed against the thick metal railings, their wet cold seeping through my t-shirt.  But I don’t want this kiss to end, we can go on for longer and this bridge is empty.

Also I really like the cold.

********

Nipples aren’t weed, they don’t need to be rolled like a joint everytime :

I’m in college now. I travel halfway across the city every morning  to earn my degree. I will insert a line here now that my friends wouldn’t catch me dead uttering. Ruia isn’t a place, it’s a feeling. It’s a small world here, but it’s foreign. A quaint building nested in a quiet neighbourhood. But I’m standing in it’s epicentre and I can almost feel it engulfing me.  It’s small, but it’s huge.  It’s a fish tank sitting in the dentist’s reception area.  I feel like Nemo. 

I do get carried away with these thoughts once in while. I get carried away a lot, mostly by you.  The Quadrangle is a strange place. It’s not square at all. It’s shape is a quarrel for another day, because  right now you are staring into my eyes. I hope the midday sun is doing me some favour hitting the right angles of my face.  After all, I don’t get your attention like this in public all the time. I straighten up in an attempt to make my boobs conspicuous. You laugh. “ You’ve got  really bad posture, you’re going to get a hunched back someday”, you say.

Apparently the next lecture is cancelled, it was 50/50 anyway. The professor is running errands for the Principal, couldn’t be helped. We have half an hour more, to while away. We both got dragged by our friends towards the stage at one end of this open yard. The Quadrangle is bustling with people and there is no other place to sit. I sit on the edge of the stage with my legs hanging over the edge. You sit cross-legged, behind me. I lean back into you and my ill-postured back finds comfort in this position. There are my friends on one side and yours on the other. My idiots couldn’t find a place and are standing on the ground in front of me. I put my bag on my lap, there is really no place here.

You are so busy talking to your friends, and my friends are busy talking amongst themselves. I might almost drift off to sleep. Your voice reverberates from your chest and I close my eyes in peace…  until I feel your  hand snaking under my arm.

My eyes are wide open now. The hand has progressed to the boob now. I regret having pads in my bra now. Suddenly  I am eerily aware of the number of people here. It’s bustling with people. My eyes dart all over the place, is anyone watching? My breath hitches, and my heart beats faster. I half turn to look at you questioningly. What are you doing? Why does it feel so good?

You are immersed in talking with your friends, who are dangerously close to us. Too close for comfort. I try to sit up,  but you hold me steady in place against you. I look at you, you smile at me. The sun is heating up the air, but that’s not why I am sweating.

You leisurely stroke my boob in rhythm with your talk. As natural as say, ruffling someone’s hair or swinging hands in hand. My toes curl inside my Converse. I look anywhere and everywhere except your face. I almost scream when the other hand lands on my other neglected tit. An audible “Oh shit” escapes my lips. The friend who was talking to you turns to me. He agrees, the tv show he was talking about had an unexpected main character death.

Now I have to focus on her and control myself. But your relentless ministrations won’t stop. My size doesn’t matter, you’re covering every inch. The gentle pressure is driving me crazy. I want to rip my bra off so you can find the nipple. But you find it even through the thick fabric, pressing on instead of rolling it with your fingers. I am losing my mind.

I am exposed here like this, naked amongst these people and your horny self. The strokes go back and forth from my tits to my back and everything in between. How hasn’t anyone noticed? My legs shiver from all of this madness. I slowly arch into the cup of your fingers, and my feet hanging of the stage lift on their own accord. I am no longer in control.

And I accidently kick my friend standing in front. Fast as lightning, I sit up straight and apologize. And that’s when I realize someone has unpinned my bra.

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

Its considered rude in Japanese culture to not slurp your noodles:

The canteen is a funny place. It isn’t enough of a place, there needs to be more of it. There aren’t many tables inside and we always need to fight for a table to sit. Especially now, in monsoon every inch of the area that is not covered by a warm butt is cold and soppy wet. So the actual lunch tables are much coveted. Today’s star is me. I coaxed a group of people I knew to give up their seats to me. Hence, today everyone loves me.

Our seat is near a window, I am opposite to it. I have a good view outside. The canteen windows are funny too, they overlook the quadrangle and people can look directly into your plate. Marketing gimmick.

I feel like eating oily noodles today. So I lose my new and crisp 100/-  note today. Pity. I am slurping away when I hear your voice. I look up. You’re on the other side of the window looking directly into my plate. And then your gaze shifts to me.

The food is stuck in my throat. I take a fitful sip of water. I wave a ‘Hi’ at you. You wave back but don’t answer after that. You’re talking to someone on the phone. And that would be okay with me if you weren’t staring at me so much. I can’t question you, I can’t scold you. I can only look away. I am playing with my food now. I can’t eat. You make me so horridly uncomfortable in all the right ways.

But two can play this game. I start with the fork and lick it’s prongs. I smack my lips and run my tongue over them. I twirl my fork to heap noodles on it and caress the handheld end. I shove the glob of noodles in my mouth and lick the fork clean. I then proceed to moan like a kitten.

In any other circumstance I would be ashamed of myself, but this you totally deserve. You look visibly shaken. I see you gulping air, swallowing nothing. Your neck. “ I’d like to lick it someday” I think. Now I am getting distracted by the possibilities.

You end your phone call and half a minute later I get a text. 

--you’re coming home with me today.

Welp, looks like I might get to experiment today. 

“hey, Hey!” my friend sitting beside me calls me.

“what?”

“tell me what you ordered looks like it was really good, I’ll have a plate too”.

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

Sometimes its better to bathe with Holy Spirit instead of Dettol after getting drenched in the rain:

Its really pouring cats and dogs today. We might get sent home early. We get phenomenal rains like these once every year in Mumbai. And Ruia lies in a low lying zone. Meaning water pools here like crazy. Just getting to college drenched me completely. The wind broke my umbrella. We all were sitting half soaked, waiting for lecture to begin. And again they got cancelled. But we still had lab work.

Me and my  group  of friends decided to go on the building terrace. It would be slipping wet, but we were soaked anyway. It was all empty and flooded. We dragged the tyre-cum-chaises and sat on them. It was lightly drizzling now.I looked around.

I really loved the terrace. It wasn’t too big and it wasn’t too small. It was the perfect size to hang out in. And from here, you could see the Matunga skyline. A weird mixture of really tiny, two-storeyed residential complexes and huge high-rising sky-scrapers. The clouds were rolling overhead. They looked so pregnant, their water ready to break at any moment. I loved being here, even if I was chattering from the ice-cold wind.

I text you, to come here. I need you to come here. You reply back a negative. You’re busy with your own labwork at the moment. This won’t do.

‘I am soaking wet from the rain and I’m so so cold’ I text back, attaching a selfie, as risqué as I can manage to get with people around.

I get a reply back.

‘give me 15 minutes’

Everyone else decides to leave. The labwork is simply not worth drowning for, we decide. Almost the entire college is emptying. I tell my friends I’m leaving with you. I wait inside until they leave and go back on the terrace waiting under the roof of the entrance. Out of the two entrances one is locked to prevent flooding. I am shivering.

I hear the elevator door open and close. I  attack your form furiously kissing you,pulling you into the terrace area. Thank God you’re alone.

‘Whoa,you’re wet!’you say.

“And not how I’d like to be” I reply.

You take that as a challenge. My bra is unpinned under my shirt yet again. You’re getting irritatingly good at this. I back you up against the wall next to the entrance, just out of range for any pair of wayward eyes. Not that it mattered, we were literally out in the open.

‘You are so worked up today” you whisper in my ear.

‘Mhmmhm’  is all I can manage while peppering kisses on your neck. My hands are all over your chest and fumbling at your waist. Your hands are splayed across my back rubbing sensationally, sending delicious electricity down my spine.

You bring your hands around my waist to slip inside my shirt and under my bra. I exhale. My hands are in your hair now, I can barely do a thing. I am shivering, but not from the rain.

‘Looks like you need this way more badly than I originally thought ,we need a quick fix’ you say.

I bite your ear.

You look around and suddenly your eyes brighten. You lead me to a corner section of the terrace, where  remnant beams of the building structure protrude outwards. They look like concrete tables. They are the perfect height to rest your elbows but a little difficult to climb and sit on.

But you straight up hoist me onto one, and pull down my pants. Track pants were a wonderful decision.

I gasped. I am soaking wet and now half naked, well almost, the pants pool at my feet. Your hands are under my thighs,over my calves racing across to my sex. Your fingers find me first, and I pull in your face for a kiss. I have crossed all my boundaries today. Your fingers come back slick, I blame the rain.

 Pleasing me is difficult. Both your hands are at work. One rubbing circles on my clit, the other pumping finger after finger into my vagina. I my legs start to shake, my stomach starts to quake.

 Every breath is inching me closer to glorious death. Le petit mort. I moan. Out loud.

The rain has gone from a drizzle to a raging storm. All that cold water on us, and I’m on fire.

You push away from my face only to bring yours on my sex. Your first lick on my clitoris sends me shaking into spasms. I can no longer sit upright, I lean over the surface, splayed out like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Your tongue finds rhythm with your fingers. Pumping me,  sucking me, pulling me closer and closer to you, until I can bear it no longer. With a scratch of your finger and flick of your tongue, I convulse into climax.

A bone-shaking, muscle-quivering, petit mort.

 I cannot move. You help me into my  pants and steady me inside the building, out of the terrace plot. Everybody is going home. We get our bags and reach the exit of college too. We leave and walk together. You notice I don’t turn towards my usual way.

‘You’re home is that way’ you turn to me and say.

‘I’m coming with you today, I have to finish what you started’ I whisper.

*******