#they also said the whole smoking kissing thing was improvised

[scrumptiousstuffs]

Aha! And there we have it, BTS of the now infamous scene from episode 2, Only Friends

Source: Khaotung’s Twitter

(As expected, giggles 🤭 were in abundant)

19/08/2023

[a-libra-writes]

Being in a Polyamorous Relationship with Hosea and Dutch

What even am I doing. Still 150% self-indulgent, might write a fic on it, who knoooows. 

The whole arrangement began with friendship. You were a reliable part of the gang and had been around for some time, and it was Hosea that you formed a steady, easy friendship with first, although you’d still drink and joke around with Dutch. You casually flirted with both, and Dutch certainly laid his intentions on thick, although you weren’t as close to him. Still, the three of you could have a good time almost anywhere, and you were becoming more essential to their jobs.

Dutch and Hosea talked to each other about how cute you were, how sweet and helpful, and of course the idea of an “arrangement” was Dutch’s idea. He obviously wanted you and told Hosea not to hide his own crush. They had an open relationship and wanted you to be a part of it.

If this happened when the men were younger, it was absolutely more of an experimental sexual thing. Dutch and Hosea were each other’s primaries and never shared partners - before, they didn’t understand each other’s taste, but this was the first time they liked the same person.

If you got with them during the game’s events, there’s a heck of an age gap and Dutch is living for it. You hit all his boxes for the type of lady he likes and he was bugging Hosea to agree to the arrangement, since he knew the older man liked you just as much. The age gap bothered Hosea a bit, though if you reassured him he’d feel better. He just wants you to know his and Dutch’s feelings are genuine and the arrangement will stop the minute you’re uncomfortable.

Once you agreed, it was actually Dutch who fell for you first, and he fell hard. Hosea teased him for it, but his own feelings were creeping up on him, and finally he couldn’t deny it, nor did he want to. What was just a purely sexual arrangement with a mutual good friend suddenly became as real as their relationship. 

It had always been just Dutch and Hosea, with a few partners coming and going, but now there was you. Honestly, they began to feel lonely when you weren’t around. Dutch stopped having such a wandering eye for new girls and Hosea was beginning to yearn something fierce. 

Hosea is the sweet, steady partner who likes to cuddle with you, pats your head and gives you sweet hello and goodbye kisses. He shows his love through words and more domestic actions. He loves that he can talk with you about all sorts of things, but you two can also sit in a comfortable silence and just enjoy the company. He’s the best to snuggle against when you’re drifting off, and he keeps a warm arm around your waist while you sleep. When Dutch walks in on you both dozing he thinks it’s so cute he might die.

On the other hand, Dutch is a very passionate, spoiling sort of partner. You know when he wants you and he wants you often. He likes giving you all sorts of gifts and having you on his lap in front of everyone. His hands or his lips just have to be somewhere on you, and he’ll say whatever it takes to get you to laugh and smile. When Hosea walks in on you both making out, he’ll pointedly sit down, open a book and ignore it until Dutch gets annoyed.

Sex goes a lot of different ways, but the three of you have fallen into a bit of a pattern of ganging up on spoiling one person. So that means one of three things will happen: Hosea getting spoiled and flustered, Dutch getting flattered and serviced or you getting treated like a princess. Of course, there’s still times where you have just one of them or they have each other.

Personally Dutch really enjoys watching you and Hosea together, even if he doesn’t join in. He’ll just perch on the side of the bed and smoke, watching you two with hungry eyes. Once in a while he’ll ask one of you to look at him, or he’ll kiss wherever he can get at - your neck, your hand, and so on. Hosea isn’t as interested in watching, but he’s amused if you like seeing him and Dutch together, even if it embarrasses him a little. 

No surprise, Dutch is a bit of an attention hog. Sometimes when he sees you and Hosea making out and enjoying each other, he’d rather join than watch, though he isn’t sure who he’s desiring more in that moment. If you and Dutch are the ones getting hot and heavy, Hosea likes to jokingly make commentary and give suggestions until he gets clothes tossed at him. When they’re making out and you’re grinning and watching, Hosea gets ridiculously flustered, which you and Dutch just have to pounce on.

If double penetration is what’s happening, Dutch likes to be behind you. He likes to feel you up, bite your neck and squeeze your breasts while encouraging Hosea to take you from the front. Hosea’s the one giving you kisses on your lips and chest while stroking between your legs, making sure you’re comfortable and ready before they both take you. While you wrap your arms around Hosea and lean into him, Dutch is stroking up your back and praising you for being a good girl. It’s all a very overstimulating experience.

Hosea is the one most likely to curl up with you afterward, he’s tired after all of it and likes to snuggle. Dutch is restless and doesn’t sleep well anyway, so he’ll prop his feet up and read while you two doze off. If you aren’t tired, you can wiggle out from under a sleeping Hosea and rest on Dutch’s lap. He likes that a lot.

Depending on your personality and skills, you’re often doing jobs with one or both of the men. Dutch prefers you go with Hosea because he handles safer cons and Dutch is very stubborn about you not getting into gunfights, even if you shoot well… But he’s still going to get lonely and a little jealous and monopolize your time as soon as you’re back. He’s predictable like that. 

If you’re the type to go out on robberies and shooting, Dutch is very protective and will be so damn stubborn about you not going, or staying close to him if you must go. Hosea is more reasonable about your decisions, but he does worry, so he’d rather you join him on cons. Lord you both have so many scripts and schemes you’ve done, you can just improvise things by looking at each other. If you aren’t a combative type at all, they’re pleased with you staying behind with the others. Anything that keeps their angel safe.

And yes you have a dozen nicknames at least, most of them originating from Dutch. Hosea sticks with “dear” and “angel”, while Dutch comes up with a new one every other day. You tease them for forgetting your name all the time. 

Honestly speaking, you could get away with murder as far as these boys are concerned. Dutch makes so many excuses for his sweet girl, and although Hosea will seriously scold you for causing trouble or mayhem, he can’t stay mad if you’re genuinely apologetic. Though there’s been times when Hosea is mad at both you and Dutch for doing something stupid, so you have to drag Dutch along when you make an apology.

If it’s Dutch who pissed you off, he goes to Hosea to complain and figure out a way to make it up to you. Hosea lets him wallow in some humble pie before finally agreeing to help. 

New members of the gang are in disbelief about the nature of your relationship, it does take some getting used to. More often than not they assume you’re Dutch’s girl, because he just can’t keep from showing you off, but then they’ll see you kissing and hugging on Hosea, and then they’ll see you sit between them by the fire and they’re also making eyes at each other. It can be a bit much.

If you were around since he was a kid, you were something of a maternal figure to John, so he has a lot of respect for you and is just used to the relationship. He doesn’t see it as weird until he steps back and thinks about it. If it happened when he was an adult he just cringes and tries not to think about the bedroom logistics. 

No matter your age, Arthur finds it odd but ultimately not his business. Once he gets to know you better and sees how happy you make these two old men, you become friends. Arthur even starts looking after you and being a little protective. Later, when things get bad,  he’ll try to ask you to help Dutch see reason and hopes your influence is stronger than Micah’s.

It gets to a point where the three of you are seen as a unit. While Dutch is the first authority, you and Hosea are respected as well, and you both play a large part in the jobs and cons that get arranged. At some point, you and the two stopped looking for other partners and just took comfort in each other.

Lately you noticed Hosea had been bothered by something, and he finally told you that he was hoping Dutch would marry you properly if he passed. Hell, Hosea would marry you right now if you wanted, but he didn’t want to leave you a widow suddenly, especially if you ended up with a child. He thought about these things seriously, you knew, he wanted a sense of security and safety for you. He wanted you to get out of the gang life.

“Well, once the job in Blackwater is done, there won’t be a problem. You said you and Arthur found somethin’ good, right?” You asked. Hosea still wasn’t comfortable with it, but he’d wait until after the job before bringing up the idea with Dutch. Trying to tie that man down with marriage seemed impossible, but damn it. He’d put the issue aside for now, but he wasn’t letting it go. 

[sometimes-i-write-4-you]

Hey, can I get a Steven Hyde x Reader who’s not used to affection please? Thank ya

Cause wow - Steven Hyde X reader

a\n: not tooooo sure this is what you wanted but there it is.

trigger warnings: weed mentioning

I was sitting in Eric’s basement with my friends. Well, i don’t know if i can call them my friends, since i’ve known them for such a short time. About a month ago I met Steven Hyde, and we clicked pretty quickly, and soon enough I was sort of a part of the gang. 

I reached my hand to the last Lay’s, hoping to successfully steal it. I hated how it got to this point, but my parents went away for work for the second time this month. Last time they were away for a whole week, and considering the fact we’re barely into the second week of the month, it says a lot - they don’t like me. They left some cash hidden around the house but it was for the house - water, electricity and barely enough for that. I mostly ate leftovers, improvised sandwiches and Petso Burger - i work there so i got a meal whenever i had a shift.

Another hand reached for the same bag of Lay’s, but I caught it first. “Hey, i was going to rightfully steal that!” the guy said. I looked at him. He had his shades on, even tho we were inside and his hair was curly. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “Well, i was also going to rightfully steal it” i replied, half whispering, “so if you don’t mind…”. I started to walk away, but he was quick to follow. He grabbed my hand to slow me down and catched up quickly. “You don’t look like the type, aren’t you that goodie-two-shoes from History class?” he said, walking by me and looking around to find a snack. “Well, I don’t remember ever seeing you in history class” I said, putting the bag of chips in my bag. I still had some things I wanted to “get”. “Oh, it’s cause i never actually go. I’d walk up to the door from time to time, and then I’m like “neh” and go smoke in the Janitor’s room” He said. I didn’t have anything to say about it, so we kept 

walking in silence for a few moments. “You usually sit pretty close to the door, so i remember your face. You always read some book and everything is laid on the desk perfectly” he said, and I nodded. “Sounds like me” I said, grabbing a Milk carton. “So what brings you to, you know, commit a small crime?” he asked directly, grabbing chocolate pudding with a spoon stuck to it. He opened it right there in the middle of the store and started eating it. “I- uh, my parents are away and they didn’t leave money” i said, trying to make it far less bad, but he seemed to understand the real situation. For some reason, I feel like I can trust him with this, I mean, I can tell on him if he ever tries to use any of this against me. “Hand me everything you need, i’ll get it for you” he said. “I- what? Why would you do this? Do you just want the chips?” i asked, raising my eyebrow at him. He smiled. His smile was sweet and sincere. “No, but if you want to share it…” he said, “but it’s just that, uh, my dad left my mom and my mom left me, so i feel for you. But don’t tell anyone” he explained his act of kindness. “I have a job, i’ll return the money once i’ll have it” i promised as i handed him milk, bread, cereal, frozen hot dogs and of course the chips. “It’s okay man, my job pays real good” he said, “and come over to the Forman’s, i bet you need a proper meal and Kitty loves guests, hell, they let me live there” he laughed, grabbing a basket and putting all of my grouscaries in there. “I’m (y\n) (y\l\n)” I said, reaching my hand to shake his. “Steven Hyde” 

“Hey, (y\n), pass me the chips” Donna said, stretching her hand as far as she could to grab the Lay’s from my hands. I gave it to her. I sat next to Steven on the couch, Kelso next to me and Jackie in his lap. Fez sat on the chair next to Kelso and Donna across from him. Eric sat on the freezer, half upset (“it’s my house, why am i getting the worst seat?”), but he’ll get over it. Steven’s hand rested on the couch behind me, which was weird. We sat like that a lot, but it still made me feel weird. He was always nice to me, in his own sarcastic way. I like how he is around me, and according to his friends he is different when i’m not beside him.

“You make him better, so seriously, thank you” Donna said once. “Yeah, today i said your hot, and normally he would punch my face for talking about his girl like she’s a piece of meat but today, he punched my shoulder” Kelso contributed. “I’m not his girl” I said, grabbing a popsicle from the freezer. “Aren’t you two dating?” Donna asked, confused. “Well, in that case, hello there, (y\n)” Kelso said, running his hand through his hair. I laughed, “Kelso, the fact i’m not taken doesn’t change the fact you are” i said. “Doesn’t matter, i’m about to break up with Jackie anyways. “You said that last week” Donna said, as I sat down on the couch next to Kelso. He stretched and rested his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t” I glared at him and he moved his hand as I moved to the other edge of the couch.

“So, are you going to the dance? I could use a girl to shop for a dress with” Jackie said. “I thought we were going together, I’m a girl” Donna said, seemingly upset. She would never admit it, but Jackie is her best friend. “Yeah, but donna, you dress like a guy. No offence” Jackie said, and turned her face back to me, “so?”. “I’m not going, it’s not really my scene, you know?” i said. “No i don’t. Dances are everybody’s scene,  Even Steven is coming. You two can come together!” JAckie replied, resting her hands on my shoulders and shaking me excitedly. “I- yeah, whatever man, if you’re going i don’t mind being your date” Steven sighed. A shocked silence fell over the room.

A week later you had a dress for the Dance (sponsored by Jackie, who was quick to help once you explained you can’t really afford the dress she thought was perfect for you), and a date. You never thought this is going to happen to you. Steven always made you feel like maybe you are not alone, and maybe you are liked, and the gang was amazing. You sat in Donna’s living room with the girls, and you were waiting for the boys to arrive. A knock on the door. Donna went to open it and let the guys in.

“Wow” Steven muttered once he laid his eyes on me. I was wearing a (f\c) dress that was tight in the chest area and flared from the waist down. The high neckline kinda chocked me, but luckily enough it belonged to the chiffon “coat” so i could take it off at any time and reveal the (not too deep) v neckline of the dress. He was wearing a button up with an abstract print on it, which you were pretty sure you’ve never seen before. He wore a dark brown flared jeans to match the shade on his shirt, along with a black belt and a dark brown blazer-type jacket. His shoes were shiney, meaning he actually cleaned up. “You don’t look that bad yourself” I replied. “Wait, Steven. Is that a new shirt?” Jackie asked, but he was quick to deny. “I stole it from my dad” he said. “You don’t have a dad, you live at my house. Did you take it from MY dad?” Eric said, confusion in his eyes since Red would never wear something like this. “No, My dad left some things at the house when he ran off, I just never wore it” Steven made-up on the spot, but the truth is he went shopping with Kitty. I knew because she mentioned it next to me.

Once you all arrived at the gym court, Steven and I went to sit on the side. He was next to you, hand on your shoulder. You flinched. “Hey, (y\n), you okay?” he asked. Touch was weird for me, I’m used to getting Zero affection. “i - yeah, I’m great” I replied. “No, you always flinch when I touch you. If it makes you uncomfortable, just say so, I wouldn’t do it” He said, a little upset. “No, it doesn’t bother me, it’s the complete opposite, it’s just that i’m not used to.. Affection” i explained, “i flinch whenever Jackie hugs me, and i Flinch when Donna’s punching my shoulder when i successfully throw a ball, and i flinch when Eric’s giving me a high five…” i start listing, but Steven is quick to cut me off with a weird question, “may i have this dance?”. “Uh, yeah, i guess” i say, and he gets up and reaches his hand out. I take it hesitantly. Just as we get to the dance floor, showing off our awful moves, the Music get slower, and it’s no other then “I Love You More Than You’ll Ever Know” by Donny Hathaway. Steven took a step closer to me. “Steven-” I started, wanting to offer we’ll leave the dance floor. Slow dancing was not my thing, and as far as i know Steven was not a fan either. I flinched once his hands took mine and placed them on his shoulders. “I’m sorry” I whispered. “Hey, it’s totally fine” he said as he wrapped his hands around my waist. It was nice, and his touch burned my body in the best way possible. “You always call me steven, why’s that?” he asked, looking into my eyes, or at least that’s what i think he was doing since his sunglasses were on, per usual. “I don’t know, i just feel weird using nicknames” i replied, “kinda weird, i know, but i was never called by any name other than mine. Well, you refer to me as ‘man’ sometimes, but that’s just how you talk” i let out an awkward laugh. I kinda hated the fact he called me “man”, that ment i’m deep in the friend zone, But it was okay once I realized he calls everyone man that time he said “Kitty, man, pass me the salt”. “Even a boyfriend?” Steven asked, his tone suggested something, but i could not tell what. “Never had one” I answered. “So what, like, you never had your first kiss?” Steven asked, an annoying smile on his face. That was a sensitive spot. I don’t think he was aware of that. “Look, Steven, can we not talk about it?” I asked. I was just starting to get used to the situation and he was ruining this. “What, you don’t expect me to believe you’ve never kissed anyone” he insisted, kind-of laughing at the idea. “Well, i haven’t, can you just let it go?”  I said. “Do you want to?” Steven asked. “I guess? I don’t know Steven, i just can’t imagine anyone wanting to kiss me” i replied, giving up. “I want to kiss you” he said. I looked at him, confused. “(y\n), would you give me the honor of being your first kiss?” he asked, pulling me closer. “Steven, you don’t have to-” “did you hear me? I said i want to” he cuts me off. “I- yeah, sure, i would like that” i said, “what do i-”. Before i got the chance to finish that sentence, his lips were on mine, and somehow I just knew what to do. My hands moved from his shoulder to his jaw line, and my lips moved against his so easily, it felt like we were made for each other, or maybe it was just me. At that point I realised that a kiss can be so amazing it’s breathtaking. we pulled away for air,  and he rested his forehead on mine. “You sure you never kissed anyone?” he said, actual suspicion in his voice, “cause wow”.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Yandere (Freddy/Beetlejuice) being obsessed with a girl who makes it pretty clear she's far from interested (like "good sir if you come any closer you WILL be struck with a baseball bat").

I hope you like these! They were fun! Heheh, I got a bit dark, so I hope you like that ^^

Warnings: Hah… so… this does get kinda NSFW? Not explicitly or even really descriptively, but it’s worth mentioning. So yeah, sexual harassment, and also talk about reader getting traumatised and twisted.

~~~

Okay so there’s a lot here that we can say for them both BJ and Freddy. Here’s a section for those things:

This, a person not being interested and trying to get away, is of course not new to either of them. In fact, they enjoy it. They’re both nasty lil’ freaks that enjoy seeing you uncomfortable, scared and forcing a translucent brave face on. “That’s my (Insert affectionate nickname like Princess, Pumpkin, Biscuit, etc)’

Nothing is sacred for you. They just love to turn up at the most inconvenient and uncomfortable times (Getting changed, in class / at work, at a family dinner or reunion, on a date, etc) and they absolutely love to twist your most innocent and/or beloved interests into something horrible and gross that will forever remind you of him. They do this by making jokes about it, literally popping out of it, and incorporating it somehow when they’re hurting you. (I’ll elaborate on this more in Freddy’s section- he’s more for the psychological torture then BJ is)

You get many unsolicited compliments.

Hit him with said baseball bat and he’ll:

o   Beetlejuice: Ask you to do it again. If you’re into that kind of kinky stuff, he’s totally on board!

o   Freddy Krueger: Break it and decide he needs to punish you.

Beetlejuice:

BJ doesn’t have a level 0, no. He just blinks right past that, and number 2-99 as well. He’s a hundred, and then possibly a thousand if you get him drinking.

Don’t do that.

The fact that you aren’t interested and keep trying to get away from him (I mean, you do escape him a lot because he’s spacey and frazzly-brained, but never for long. He gets distracted briefly and then when you’ve relaxed with a relaxing book or something else for some lovely, long-awaited non-Beetlejuice related time, he pops up again in place of your chair and its very, very awkward when you slowly notice the warm, sort of damp feeling of his belly, chest and legs and the, seemingly perpetual bulge in his trousers.) isn’t a new concept for him. But he doesn’t take the hint, either. He’s nasty and he likes to be the bane of people’s existences.

Especially you! ~ You’re his fave! Congrats.

Every rebuff and nasty look you give him makes him ‘love’ you even more. Mm, sexy.

Not the type to chain you up anywhere or kidnap you (Except for frequent day trips- he’ll always take you back home though). No, no. He makes your regular, everyday life difficult instead, by popping up at school (And I mean University. Or at the very least year 12) or work, at lunch dates, at the shops (Changing rooms come to mind), etc. You’re the only one who can see him, like Lizzie and Drop Dead Fred, but he can touch things and make a whole mess and you’ve been kicked out of shops, restaurants and classes for, not just being noisy, or disrupting people, no- The words used most often are ‘wreaking havoc’. 

He just pops up, and he doesn’t care at all what you’re doing- he’ll take one look at it and make some ‘fun’ out of it. Steal things (Like lollies, pills, condoms, and smokes and alcohol- yes, he will smash glass and pop behind counters to grab shit) and shove them down your clothes to hide it (Which is loud and obvious and you get caught), massacre a prized garden to get you flowers (Roots, worms and dirt still intact) to serenade you with (song and dance included and, of course, improvised) which distracts you entirely and makes you unresponsive or weird to people who cant see him, flicker the channels on a TV you’re watching with some friends and turn on a porn channel when the remote is in your hands, or just outright try to ravage you right there in the middle of class. What does he care what happens? Getting you frustrated and embarrassed is half the fun.

Freddy is not the only one that has you waking up with markings or changed in some way, nay. BJ changes your clothes in your sleep- usually to his signature black and white stripes.

Your continued braveness and the fact that you refuse to give in to him and just give up entirely… uhh, well, it turns him on. Hence the perpetual bulge in his pants around you.

(And he is around you MUCH. OF THE. TIME.)

Freddy Krueger:

Like said in the first section, this is not a brand new kinda situation for him. In fact, he prefers it, likes it this way. Especially seeing as you’re strong and won’t give up trying to get away. Gives him a chance to use his… you know… whole personality, and full abilities, to break you. And once he has, you’ll be his little pet.

Look, before we get into the nightmare of it all, I’ll say this for you: At least you wake up. For BJ, he can come and get Reader whenever he wants (And he does). Freddy’s at least confined to the dream world.

But, of course, the dream world also does offer its own advantages for your antagonist. Because, as we all well know, Freddy can conjure, be or make up anything he wants. The sky is not the limit- its but a suggestion. Which brings us to this horrendous thing that he loves to do to you.

Beetlejuice takes the place of the chair you’re sitting in- Freddy takes place of your crush. He sets up neat little dreams for you where you’re with your crush (It could be real life, celebrity, or fictional. Whatever. Just someone you’re attracted to and have innocent feelings towards that he can warp, distort and pervert. Nothing is sacred here) and then at the last moment, like a reverse froggy prince kind of deal, your crush turns into Freddy and he has some terrible pun and he kisses you, and it’s all very shocking and unpleasant. And you never see it coming because you’re dreaming. No, it’ll always be just as horrifying.

Its not just people you have warm, fuzzy feelings for that he perverts and distorts, no. Hobbies that make you feel at peace, that he knows make you feel safe and forget about him for a little while. You better hope he doesn’t find out about things like that because if he does discover that, that you’re enjoying a peaceful and hopeful moments, he’ll figure out how to immediately crush that. Conjure up a nightmare for you where all you can paint or draw or write about are horrible memories about him or where you can’t help but obey him and literally destroy the special object that maybe your parents gave you, or you got yourself at a hard time that reminds you that you’ll be okay in any way, with your own two hands. 

Because that’s what Freddy does, its why he’s scary- he takes something so comforting that we know will always be there for us and take us away from the world for a little bit like sleep and our snuggly beds and ruins it.

There aren’t many mornings that you wake up without a new cut or bruise or other kind of mark. He once took a dream permanent marker and wrote his name across your forehead in thick font and that materialised in real life for a whole 3 days.

[hanakokichi-donutjuice]

👀 I noticed you followed the author I mentioned, care to check out the newest fic they posted? 👀 also also, christmas headcanons? :0

Hey! Thank you for request ! I don't know if you want Tsumitsu so when in doubt I did general hc on all the characters, but if you want Tsumitsu in particular tell me and I'll do it again ^^

I haven't read her new story yet, but it's in my Bookmarks ! As soon as I have a little time I'll read it ! :D

TBHK CHRISTMAS HEADCANONS

It's Christmas ! They are all having a great family celebration

It’s Sumire’s birthday too (not the real date but I like to think she was born on a holiday)

Tsukasa eats mistletoe

He also plays with garlands and almost electrocutes himself with the string lights

Teru has a horrible Christmas sweater but he thinks he's on top of fashion with

But no, tell him no

Besides, he made sure to match his sweater with his siblings

Mitsuba cut Nene's hair shorter

Mitsuba wears a golden garland instead of his scarf

Tsuchigomori tied Hanako's tie knot

Tsukasa couldn't tie his tie on his own so he had to ask Sakura to do it for him, but Natsuhiko said he took care of it.

Think for two seconds that we've never seen Natsuhiko with a tie, why? He just doesn't know how to tie a tie

After an hour he gave up and he ended up putting on a bow tie and suspenders in Tsukasa instead.

Aoi and Nene both have candy cane earrings

Kou makes the meal

Teru wanted to help him, but we kindly sat him down at a table instead

" NO ! OUT OF THE QUESTION ! WE WANT A WARM PARTY BUT NOT A FIRE !!! GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN NOW "

Mitsuba stole the star from the tree bc: "I am the brightest star in this room! "

Akane and Amane argue over who is more beautiful between Aoi and Nene

"Yashiro is so radiant that she could replace the star on the tree! "

"Well, Ao-Chan is so bright she shines brighter than all the fairy lights on the tree! "

Then Aoi and Nene said it was Teru the brightest in the room

So we tied Teru to the top of the tree to light up the room instead of the star

"We" in fact it was Akane and Amane out of revenge

Tsuchigomori is disguised as Santa Claus

Teru taught him how to make a good "Heave-Ho!" "To stick to the character (but Teru remains the God of "Heave-Oh!")

He also smokes in a pipe with candy cane color

"WHO PUT A FIR BRANCH IN MY PIPE ??!" "

Tsukasa beheads gingerbreadmans and glue them back together to make characters with multiple limbs / Heads

Sakura is sitting by the fire reading a large, beautiful, ancient storybook with sumptuous gold bindings

Natsuhiko had put mistletoe over her chair before the reception

He was going to go under to try to kiss her but ...

Tsukasa comes running ahead of him (dropping the mistletoe in the process) because Sakura is reading Christmas tales and he ABSOLUTELY wants her to get him over it

Mission failed.

Kou, Aoi and Nene distribute Christmas hats to everyone

Hanako put on a Christmas hat over his own hat

At one point Amane asks Tsuchigomori to do Christmas carols on the piano (I like to imagine him playing the piano, the flute and the saxophone) and he manages to convince Yako to sing too.

She has a beautiful voice, she looks like an angel

Then after she clinks glasses with Tsuchigomori

Then they toast once again to their sucks

And again, they drink again!

Okay, by then they're both totally drunk and Tsuchi ’dancing rock with Yako

Flash Info: Music is a slow

Lemon improvised himself Dj, besides his turntables have a lemon motif

Mitsuba eats all the coconut rock fereros (Rafaelo I think?) he can find, anyway nobody likes it so it's okay

Tsukasa and the Mokkes steal the mandarins and papilottes which are placed on the guests' plates

There are firecrackers in the wrapper paper but they don't make much noise: Tsukasa is very very disappointed

So instead he hides behind Mitsuba and explodes crackers behind him to scare him

Almost all the gifts are for Aoi or for Nene

In fact Akane and Amane made a competition to find out which one would give the most gifts to his sweetheart

Perfect equality

"Hanako-Kun ... Did you really get me a Daikon plush ?! "

Aoi received ALL Pandora Hearts, Vampire Knights and Black Butler tomes from Akane

Natsuhiko also gave Sakura a lot of gifts, but they were mostly books.

He gave her some handmade silk gloves too (Mitsuba gave him the patterns and he managed to sew them himself, it's wobbly but it's pretty anyway and Sakura likes them a lot), a pretty refined and expensive tea set, and books on medicinal plants, on precious stones and on healing but he also offered her science fiction books because he knows that she is secretly a fan of this kind of reading

Sakura does not show it but she is very touched, especially since she had never spoken about the fact that she has a weakness for science fiction books.

Sakura gives Natsuhiko a kiss on the cheek

Simp.Exe stop working

"There was mistletoe above us, that's the tradition"

She gave him a dangling earring with an amethyst stone (I can say more if you want but the meaning of the amethyst is based on a hc of Sakura that I have, if you want hc a this to better understand why this stone, ask me ^^)

Nene gave Amane her rocket keychain, lost about 50 years ago

Hanako remains silent then he hugs Nene, he almost cries

Akane offered Hanako milk

“It's good for growth"

Kou gave him a cat ear headphones

And Sumire gave Hanako a bell necklace

"I AM NOT A F****** CAT! "

"Hanako-Kun… You meow while sleeping and sneezing…"

Tsukasa donated handmade pottery to everyone

He accidentally broke one on Amane's head

"My head is… Spinning… Ho I see… The Stars… THE STARS, BROTHER! THE MOON IS NEAR! "

But he offered Yaoi to Mitsuba while whistling

Mitsuba turned all red and stuttering after that

Hanako gave Akane a math manual with his name written on it

"But ... is this my manual ??? It's been something like… Seven months since I look for him! "

"Yes, I thought you would be happy if I gave it back to you for Christmas"

Teru gave everyone the lobster plush toys he won this summer, his stock was too big for Tiara's room (which by the way is really big for a little girl room!)

Aoi gave Nene pretty hair clips and Nene gave her some lily seeds

Sakura gave Nene gaiters and an hourglass and Nene gave her a set of tea scented with autumn flavors and a scented with flavors of winter

The Toilet Trio donated cups to Tsuchi ’

Tsuchi' and Yako both treated themselves to first-price perfumes found in supermarkets

He also gave her a fake fox fur to annoy her

Yako bought her a ferret, (don't ask me why I don't know, she thought it was a good idea)

So now we have Tsukasa and Mitsuba running behind the ferret to play with him since half an hour

And Hanako wants the ferret to be called "Rocket"

Sumire received luxury jewelry, clothing, shoes, fan and perfume

Tsuchigomori donated a telescope to Hanako

Kou received overalls, a multicolored sweater and items and clothes with egg designs on them

Mitsuba received a mirror and polaroid paper for his photos

He also got a whole bunch of kawaii items and clothes with peaches, including an orange skirt and a pink winter dress with soft faux fur.

And Mitsuba gave everyone the same thing: A photo of him with a cute face: “So am I not the most beautiful of gifts? UwU "

Lemon offered Akane a Netflix subscription, but he plans to squat his account too

All the gifts that Lemon has received have… Lemon… designs.

"We should stop the joke one of these days guys, once it's going but every year it gets long by force ..."

Someone (obviously unconscious!) Offered a jumping stick and stilts to Tsukasa, who had the wonderful idea of ​​combining the two, before eventually dashing headfirst into the table.

A little more and he landed in the fire ! ! !

Akane donated a plush, a Hawaiian shirt, glasses and a pen all with pineapple designs for Teru

Teru gave him some sushi candies to make together

He also gave her a watch without hands because: "You don't need any object to tell the time, after all you're a bit of a clock yourself, aren't you? "

"After the party we'll have to throw out the tree, but do we throw Teru with the tree too? "

I hope you like it, I took a long time to write it <3

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Dragon Egg (Parts 26-29)

Final parts for @secrettunnelatla

Azula is several unique and distinct layers of anxious. There is the first layer; the typical stresses that come with knowing that she is in for a make or break moment. The layer beneath that is a knowingness that a break is going to be particularly devastating for her. And below that is knowing that Blue Talon is in the room over, that she will once again be forced to listen to Chan’s botched version of her abuse story.

Under that layer is knowing that the subject of said story will be in the crowd, she has already spotted him striking up conversation with Wan Shi Tong after being snubbed by Raava and Vaatu.

And then there is the deepest layer. Hama has invited herself to the performance, after she so adamantly refused to take her advice to not perform. The old bat tried her damndest  to dissuade her. Worse still, the woman’s concerns are more than valid. After finally confessing that she had done cocaine, albeit only a little, Hama lamented that that’s more than enough to explain her baby’s low birth weight. And more than enough to put her into early labor. Early labor when her age alone already put her at risk for that. “You can go into labor any time now.” The woman had put it. She can’t say that she doesn’t feel as though it is a possibility. The contractions are becoming more regular.

She holds out her hand and their makeup and SFX artist carefully dresses her fingers with blue claw tips. The fix her up with dragon contact lenses and carefully paint shimmering scales onto her cheeks, neck, and hands.

The woman hands her a sugary blue drink, it is the one comfort she has tonight. With luck it will give her tongue the blue effect that she is looking for.

They fashion her hair into a messy bun and begin working on her undercut. She hopes that it will be another seamless blend between metal and opera aesthetics. With her locks in a pile on the floor they dress her hair with ornaments and hand her, her prop mask--the final piece to her costume.

It has been some time since she has worn something form fitting and she has to admit that she is a little nervous to do it for the first time in front of so many people. But the design team that Zhao had hired for her is masterful, they have crafted a dress that works well with her baby bump. The scales are positioned in just the right ways to shimmer over and around the bump. And they are rather comfortable, more so than she anticipated them being.

“Azula, you have a visitor.”

“Tell Seicho that I got her flowers and we can talk after the show.”

“It’s...uh...it’s Chan and I think that the other two are here as well.”

“Send them away.” Zhao calls from across the room. “We don’t have time for drama.”

“What do they want?”

The woman shrugs. “I didn’t ask.”

“You can let them in.”

Chan is anything but discreet when staring at her belly and even less so when they fall on her chest. Perhaps if she didn’t want to risk breaking her faux claws she would have given him a good slap. “What do you want?”

“To wish you luck.”

“I don’t need luck. I have skill.” She pauses. “And I didn’t leech off of someone else’s material.”

“We’re not going to be performing those songs.” Ruon replies.

“We should though.” Zirin mutters.

“I figured that it would be disrespectful.”

“You figured that out quite late, didn’t you?”

Ruon sighs. “Maybe, yeah.”

“And let me guess,” she turns to Chan, “you decided that you want to be a father.”

“Fuck no!” He replies abruptly. “I don’t want anything to do with the baby, okay.”

“Then I want nothing to do with you. See yourself out.”

“Azula.”

“I am quite busy. Zhao can lead you out if you can’t find the exit yourself.”

She watches him leave with Zirin tethered to his side. “Sorry about those two, Ruon mutters. If it makes you feel any better, we’re going to be going with our new surf rock image after this concert. I convinced them to take up a new band name and  give you the rights to Blue Talon.”

At least she can go into her performance knowing that at least one of her former friends isn’t morally bankrupt.

She gets one final visitor before she takes to the stage. Raava pulls her into a careful hug and kisses her on the cheek. “I am delighted that you were able to make it.”

“I couldn’t possibly miss this.” She replies. “Not for anything.”

Her baby shifts.

.oOo.

She is cradled in an egg, a large shimmering thing blue in color and shot with veins of gold. The hiss of a smoke machine lets her know that it is almost time. By now Zuko has emerged from a pile of simmering soot.

She hears a bang and she knows that his fiery wings have burst to life. She makes a note to incorporate pyrotechnics into her shows after giving birth. She hears the crackle as his phoenix wings flare. And in tendrils of curling smoke with the mightiest roar she can manage, she emerges from her egg.

Slipping back into her harsh vocals is like slipping back into a well worn and favorite robe, somehow it always fits just right. Somehow it is always comfortable. She is aware of her limits, well aware and they have several plans to work with them. Should breathing become too difficult, she will gesture for Zuko to fill in. She will resume with an adjusted set of clean vocals.

For the time things are going well, she is still pleasantly reeling from the explosive applause that came with her appearance. Her surprise appearance.

Her lips curl into a smirk as her initial, teaser verse echoes about.

“It’s good to see you all again!” Zuko calls.

The claps are damn near deafening.

“I’d like everyone to give my sister an extra pleasant welcome, we wouldn’t be here without her pestering and nagging.”

“You’re an ass, Zuko.” She scans the crowd for her father. She finds him, arms folded, the most hideous snarl on his face. She imagines that the two bottles on the table will be empty by the end of the night.

“Tonight, a dragon joins the Phoenixes!”

Tonight, a dragon will take flight. TyLee pounds out the first notes on her drum. The crowd is already abuzz with a frantic energy. An ecstatic energy. An energy that has been slowly building band by band. She can only imagine how frenzied they will become by the time it is The Tui Las’ turn to take the stage.

She doesn’t have the energy to move and flounce about as she usually would, so she stands upon a raised platform with glittering ashes at her feet, singing into the microphone while thin wisps of smoke furl and unfurl around her.

Mai’s guitar thrums, she can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy that the woman can so liberally headbang, it is washed away by the sight of a banner unfurling from the balcony. She sees, in glittering acrylic paint, the maw of a dragon, its forked blue tongue thrashing. She can’t quite make out the words upon it, but she knows that it is for her. For her and her alone. Likely a gift from one of the fanclubs that had caught wind of her surprise enrollment. She closes her eyes as Mai’s solo wails on. And it is sound, everything is pure sound.

For a moment anxiety and trepidations give way to elation. To the highs of success and adoration. To the thrill and liberation that only music can bring. She tilts her head back and spreads her arms out. The spotlight glints off of her dress.

And while Zuko runs through his part, Azula points to the banner. She makes eye contact and sticks her tongue out, mimicking the image on the banner. The light twinkles upon her tongue piercing. And the crowd goes feral.

Zuko helps her down from the platform as she works her way back into the song. Her head spins with euphoria as the last vestiges of her misery, fear, and helplessness are shaken away by Zuko’s bass.

She makes a mental note to learn to play an instrument too. Perhaps the drums, she can’t name many lead vocalists who also play the drums. But she can do it, right now, she can do anything. The dragon is in flight and her wings are powerful.

She transitions into her operatic vocals. By now she is somewhat breathless, but it is alright. This is the sound she needs. The sound that is on her albums. The sound that has granted her so much attention. It is all her own. Indisputably so.

Zuko grins at her as she lowers the mic, a job well done. He gives her shoulder a little squeeze. And then he steps back. And Mai steps back while TyLee comes forward.

Zuko and Mai lay their instruments in the egg and TyLee sets her drumsticks at the bass of it. An offering to the dragon.   They lay themselves down in those glittery ashes and wait until it is their turn to rise once more.

The stage goes black and then the light falls on her. A single beam that paints her body in a radiant halo.

As a forest falls into a hush before a storm, the venue falls into a silence so complete. Complete until she decides to break it. Break it with a voice like wind sifting through curtains. Like a summer storm rousing bells into a frenzy. Something powerful and light all at once. Something both airy and sturdy.

The spotlight is growing uncomfortably hot, and there is a new energy in the air. She doesn’t think that she has ever been paid such close attention and from so many people at one. She slides into the next note. The baby shifts. The breath she draws is sharp, she improvises a high note to accent it. There is a murmur of amazement.

A small smile play on her lips as she transitions into the next set of notes. The theater throws her voice back at her and she throws it back at the theater. It is a deviation from what she had planned but it is easier somehow. Easier and otherworldly. It is an experiment, a risk. This whole night has been a risk, what is one more? The night is going too well for her to not garner successful results.

As her last chorus begins, her wings unfold as shadows on the back wall. The smoke machines cough out plumes until she is lost in the smoke. And with her body fully enveloped, the stage fades to black once more.

She isn’t sure what to make of the tangible silence to follow. Not until it erupts into a deafening applause.

And then come the sparks, the sparks and flames and Zuko, Mai, and TyLee spring back into action for a bombastic finale. She feels much bolder now, unstoppable. Perhaps if her solo had been even a degree less successful she would have come down enough to know that she is pushing too hard.

As things are, she is taken by the night, by the magic of sound and melody. By the connections; to Zuzu, to Mai and TyLee, to the audience… These connections, for a time, block out a different connection. A connection she should be feeling by nature.

She slips back into her harsh screaming vocals and just in time. She holds her note as the first sharp pang bursts through her core. She screams louder, harder. By all means, it is the best scream she has ever done on stage. She isn’t sure if she is dismayed or relieved that the audience thinks that it is just part of the show. Most of the audience anyhow, Hama goes rigid. She grits her teeth as Zuko sings through his part. She feels a cramp like no other. And she sees faces. There is her father his expression is something conflictingly smug and shamed, he turns his head. There is Seicho, wincing. And Raava, she hasn’t seen that brand of concern since her mother died. She can’t find Hama.  

The music cuts suddenly and with it, her dreams and aspirations.

Zuko hooks her under the arm.

“What are you doing?” She mutters, “you need to finish the show.”

“We need to get you to the hospital.” Mai replies.

“Or, at least, to Hama.” TyLee adds.

___________

Y’all are gonna have to forgive me lol, I don’t know too much about childbirth and I couldn’t find some of the answers to the questions I had about c-sections. That said, this is your warning if childbirth and surgeries make you squeamish.

She wants to cry. Cry for the pain and cry for her lost dreams. She had been so close. So, so very close.

And now she is here in a hospital bed, here in excruciating pain that anesthetics can only seem to take the edge off of. They give her commands, they tell her to push and breathe. They are vaguely reminiscent of the mock sessions that Hama has taken her though. But her head is too dizzy to truly do anything beyond hear the orders.

She picks out Hama’s face, but the woman mostly lingers back waiting to be called on for reminders and forgotten rundowns on her condition and medical history. She thinks that Seicho is there too, banished to the other end of the room so not to obstruct.

Azula screams again and they demand that she pushes. She thinks that the push she gives is more instinctual than a response to the order. There is another reminder to breath. She can’t do it. She is growing faint.

She thinks that this baby is going to rip her in two. Spirits, she could have sworn that they said it would have a low birth weight. Spirits, she can’t imagine what a standard weight baby would feel like.

Tears are running down her face but she barely registers them. And then she hears the words Caesarean section. Her face pales further and then further still when they mention that the baby’s heartbeat is unstable.

It is just as well, she doesn’t think that she can keep herself awake to deliver this baby naturally. She clutches the bed sheets as they clean her abdomen. They say something to her, something that she doesn’t catch. She thinks that they are trying to explain what they are doing.

She feels a hand holding hers. It is Seicho’s. Woefully and resentfully, she wishes that it was Ozai’s. Her father should be here. He should be holding her hand. He should protect her when she can’t do it herself. And this time she doesn’t think that she can.

“It’s alright.” One of the doctors promises. “You’re going to be fine.”

To her horror, they keep her awake. They carefully fix the IV into her arm and administer a regional anesthesia. Agni, she wishes that they would just put her out entirely.

“You did good tonight.” Seicho says.

“Mmm hmm.” Azula mannages as they begin to make the incision.

“Really good. You should see what they’re saying about the performance.”

Azula grits her teeth, “that I’m a fool for performing eight months pregnant.”

“No! Okay, well, some people are saying that…”

She must admit that Seicho has just provided her with a rather solid distraction. “They have no right to say anything about…”

Seicho laughs. “But they’re also saying that it was impressive that you could do it at all. And that your performance was amazing, they were only disappointed to see it cut short.”

“Are ‘they’, the audience or the judges?”

“Both, I think?” Seicho replies. “The competition is still going on of course, but your odds of winning still look pretty good according to the live updates.”

Azula’s grimaces at a tugging sensation that radiates up her abdomen.

“Are you in any pain?” The doctor asks.

She shakes her head, “it’s  not comfortable though.” And the discomfort seems to last hours. The doctors insist that it had been only an hour and twenty-minutes. And for that hour and twenty-minutes she doesn’t even get to hold her baby.

“She’s being transferred to the NICU.” They inform her. “It might be several days, possibly weeks until you get to hold her. We need to get her stable first.”

Azula can only nod. She is lucky that her baby is alive at all.

______________

Her baby comes with a list of risks and warnings. Obligations and an extensive list of follow up appointments. Here and there she does interviews, ones wherein she promises that she is still very much active, that new songs are in the works and that she has several music video ideas in mind. Ones wherein she announces that she plans to collaborate with From Ashes to Phoenix more  and that she plans to take up drumming while on maternity leave. That interviews will be less frequent and that her first tour isn’t slated for at least a year.

She thinks that she is driving Seicho mad with anticipation, she has only been promising her a real date for ages now. But she has things to attend to first. She is putting the finishing touches on her nursery, while profusely but silently thanking Zhao’s wife for providing her with the toys and baby care supplies that she had neglected to buy herself. What Zhao and his wife don’t provide comes in the form of gifts from Iroh, Zuzu, Mai, TyLee, Raava, and Vaatu. Chan has given her a gift as well but a boob pillow isn’t exactly the sort of thing that she wants in her baby’s crib. She supposes that it’s the thought that counts. It is a small little gesture, something that has her inclined to think that he doesn’t want to sever ties with her completely. She puts that to the side for when she has time to deal with it.

“This is so exciting!” TyLee gushes.

Azula is nearly inclined to say that TyLee is more excited to see the baby in her mother’s arms than she is.

“You must be thrilled.” Seicho notes.

Truth be told there is a shot of nervousness too. She hadn’t had enough time to consider what kind of mother she would be. And that in itself is a red flag. Surely she can be no worse than her own father.

The doctor beckons her into the room. “Are you ready to meet your baby?”

Azula nods.

“Did you pick out a name yet.” Inquires another doctor as the first leaves to retrieve her baby.

Azula nods again. “It’s Anzu.”

“That’s so pretty.” TyLee smiles.

“Thank you.”

The doctor emerges. “Here she is.” Gently the woman transfers Anzu into Azula’s arms. She is a precious little thing. Soft, squishy, and terribly small.

“Is she going to stay this small?” Azula asks.

“Most likely, yes. Even if she wasn’t a pre-term baby, you are rather small.”

Azula flushes lightly.

“That’s her polite way of saying that you’re super teeny!” Seicho ruffles her hair.

Azula holds Anzu’s head against her breast. It doesn’t remain there for long, Azula finds that the baby is a wiggly thing. She opens her eyes but they don’t seem to find focus on anything in particular. Azula holds out her finger for the girl to grasp.

“She’s quite a fussy one.” The doctor notes. “Preterm babies tend to have irregular sleeping and eating patterns, so that’s something to prepare yourself for. We’ll be keeping her for another week, just to make sure that she stays stable, but she’s just about ready to come home.”

“I’ll pass the warning onto Zhao.” Azula replies as she strokes Anzu’s hair. “Have you been playing music for her like I asked? I want her to be a musician too.”

“We have.” The woman assures her. “Mostly classical music for now. But she is fond of zither music and the pan pipes.”

Perhaps she will learn to play the zither and the drums. “You know how to play the zither, don’t you, TyLee?”

“And the harp.”

“I can play an accordion!” Seicho declares.

“You can?” Azula furrows her brows.

“Sure. I just can’t play it good.” Seicho shrugs.

Azula sighs, she isn’t sure of just what kind of upbringing Anzu is going to have. With Seicho as a fill in father. Though Zhao, his wife, and Iroh show more promise. At least she has options. Options and a solid support system.

A musical career and motherhood. She will make them both work somehow.

____________

She lets Zuko, Mai, and TyLee tag along. Zhao and his wife have kindly extended her a much needed night off and she is spending it in Seicho’s chair. “I don’t need hand holding, Zuzu.” She rolls her eyes as Seicho brings the needle to her chest. “If I can handle childbirth, I can handle another tattoo.”

“You were numb for the childbirth.” Zuko points out.

“I suppose that I was, yes.”

Seicho makes great time, at this rate they will have time to go out for dinner after the tattoo has been finished. Already, she has the outline of the dragon egg and she is working to surround it with music notes.

Azula closes her eyes and relaxes as much as the constant needle bites will allow. Her mind wanders away from the tattoo parlor and to the stage. It is strange to think that it has only been a month since Audio of Agni. A month since she was able to hang her award certificate on the wall of her recording studio.

She almost can’t distinguish the buzzing of her phone from the whir of the tattoo gun as it pumps more shimmering blue into her skin. She declines the call.

“Who was it?” Zuko asks.

“It was father.” She mutters. “He’s been calling a lot lately.” A lot since he realized that his gleaming little star is shining perfectly fine without him. Much better in fact, without the pressures that he puts on her.

“What does he want?” Mai grumbles.

“Who cares.” Zuko scowls.

Deep down, she does. Deep down she misses him. Misses his praise and his subtle and hard to acquire affections. Misses the man he was before the booze. “Do you think that rehab would help him, Zuzu?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“I think that you shouldn’t make it your problem.” Seicho pulls the tattoo gun back and shrugs. “You have a baby and a career to worry about and that’s plenty. You can talk to him when he calls you to tell you that he went to rehab on his own.”

And yet her heart aches for the people that she has cut out of her life. She supposes that she has let enough people in to balance things out. She has friends now, real friends. She has a brother, an uncle, a spunky, highly agitating, girlfriend. She has that dolt Zhao and she has her baby.

She has more than she had lost.

“I don’t need him.” She finally replies.

“Good.” Zuko replies. He has made more progress of his own, perhaps more than even she. He’d built From Ashes To Phoenix from nothing. He’d kindled the flame and then doused it and then flared it up again higher than before. All that remains of his troubles are a series of faint puncture scars on his arms.

“When does your tour start, Zuzu?”

“The beginning of next month. Are you gonna see us play?”

“I’ll let you know when Anzu tells me.” She laughs.

“Well, let us know when you’re touring again, we’ll see your show.”

“I sure hope so, TyLee, you guys will be the opening act!”

“Stop moving so much!” Seicho exclaims.

“Sorry.” Azula mutters. She watches as Seicho moves the tattoo gun across the egg. Somehow she has managed to create an effect not dissimilar to that of her Audio of Agni dress. She pauses to swap out the ink colors. Her hand is so dainty and elegant as she fills in and shades. Finally she pulls it back and hands Azula a mirror. She doesn’t need it to know that Seicho’s work is as fine and painstaking as ever. That it is perfect. That it is worthy of being on her skin.

Seicho gently applies a layer of antibiotic ointment.

“Are you sure that you don’t want me to make adjustments to that tattoo while we’re here?” Seicho gestures to the dragon curling around her arm.

“I’m sure, Siecho. I need this tattoo as it is.” There are nights when it is painful to look at. Nights when it is a glaring reminder of the people she lost. The friends who betrayed her, who almost reaped her of everything she had. But it is also a reminder of what she had tamed and reclaimed.

For better or for worse, Blue Talon is a part of her. Just as much as Anzu and the music industry. And for better or for worse, Blue Talon is a mark on her skin. Just like Anzu.

Tattoos aren’t art, she decides, they are stories. Profound ones. And Seicho has a particular way with words. A particular way of helping her tell her story.

“Alright then, we’re all done here!” Seicho pecks her on the forehead.

Seicho locks and darkens the parlor. She takes Azula’s hand. TyLee takes her other one. And Mai takes TyLee’s free hand. Zuko completes the chain. She walks down the street. A dragon among phoenix.

She thinks that it is best this way.

[alkae]

They Were Roommates

Chapter Four

A week passed and the “incident” went unmentioned between the two of them.

Hugo still came to Varian at night and begged him for help, always on physics and nothing else. They crowd on one of their beds or on the floor and spread their notebooks and textbooks in front of them. Sometimes they do their homework together if Hugo catches Varian early enough. Varian always wondered what Hugo’s doing that kept him every night but he decided not to ask.

Despite all of this, they hadn’t yet had a moment like the one last week. Hugo hadn’t reached for Varian’s hand and vice versa. However, Varian sometimes felt heavy eyes on him. Whenever he looked, though, Hugo’s focus was trained on his notebooks.

Varian told all of this to Nuru and when he did, she began laughing and didn’t stop for 5 minutes. Then she abruptly changed the subject. Varian thought this was odd but Nuru was always a little sporadic so he didn’t think about it any more afterwards.

However, not once did the two do chemistry together. The two were rather proficient at it and always finished the homework with ease. Therefore, neither felt the need to do it as a team.

One day, Varian rushed into chemistry class a little late, no surprise there, and was surprised to see Hugo standing behind one of the many tables. Each table had a variety of chemicals laid out on them and pairs of two were standing next to the tables. Except Hugo, who stood alone. Varian walked over to the rest of his class slowly. Hugo didn’t seem to notice him and instead flipped through a thick packet, eyes glazed over.

“Varian!”

He startled and turned to see Professor Xavier standing behind him, smile wide and friendly as always. Varian felt himself start to smile on instinct. “Hello, Professor.”

“I see you’re a little late today.”

Varian’s face flushed. “I’m sorry, sir,” he muttered. He had no excuse except a rather embarrassing story. He was walking to this class when he saw Hugo. Hugo spotted him too. And then the little bastard winked at him suggestively. Varian, in response, walked straight into a lamppost and his nose started bleeding. He didn’t want to walk into class with a nosebleed so he ducked into the nearest building to find tissues to stop said bleeding. By the time it stopped, it was 5 minutes before the class started and he had to run to get there.

Lucky for him, Professor Xavier was lenient and didn’t mind being a few minutes late. He only came down hard on you if you came in when the class was halfway over. So he just smiled and said, “It’s alright Varian. I told the class we’re doing an experiment today and put everyone into pairs. You’ll be with Hugo McCoy.”

“I know him,” Varian said quietly.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Varian quickly walked away and when he came up to Hugo, he dropped his bag to the ground with a thump and put his hands on his hips. Hugo looked up, bored at first but then surprise creeped over his face.

“Hairstripe!”

“Varian.”

“What’re you doing here?” Hugo set down the packet and it made a soft “tmp” as it hit the table.

“I have a class here,” Varian replied. “I didn’t know you did.”

“What can I say?” Hugo said with a shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”

Varian repressed the urge to either roll his eyes or punch Hugo in the arm and instead looked at the packet Hugo was skimming. “What’s this?”

Hugo groaned. “Some boring shit. I don’t know, I was half asleep reading it.”

Varian glared at him. “Hugo, these are instructions. They’re kind of important.”

Hugo shrugged. “I guess. But the experiment is simple enough. Put that in this and this happens.”

“Are you sure you want to be a chemist?”

Before Hugo could reply, Professor Xavier stepped in front of the class. “Okay, class! Today, you’ll be applying your knowledge over the past 2 weeks to complete this experiment. I will not be helping with anything unless it’s an emergency. The only people you can rely on are your partner and yourself. Everything is in the packet I handed out. You have until 10 minutes before class ends to finish. Ready… go!”

The other students immediately set to work. Varian slid on gloves and put goggles over his eyes. As expected, the goggles were smudged and foggy but Varian didn’t mind. He looked over to see Hugo messing with random chemicals. Varian shooed him away. “What are you doing? At least put on safety equipment before you start touching shit.”

Hugo made a noise but he listened to Varian and took out his own goggles and gloves. As he adjusted them, Varian picked up the packet, only to have it slapped out of his hands. He glared up at Hugo. “What are you doing?” he asked again.

“We aren’t following that. We’re doing it totally by ourselves.”

He couldn’t be serious. “You cannot be serious. We have to follow the packet to know what to do. We can’t just go off.”

“Can’t we?” Hugo wiggled his brow and Varian resisted the urge to push him. Or kiss him.

Wait what?

Varian shakes off the feeling. “No we can’t. Stop being ridiculous, Hugo.”

“I’m not being ridiculous, Hairstripe! Come on, this is a great way to learn. We’re doing the assignment but in our own way.” At Varian’s skeptical and annoyed face, Hugo huffed. “How about this: we read what we’re supposed to get and then we do it our own way. How about that?”

Hugo was being ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. Varian certainly wasn’t tempted to listen to him and go off on their own. It certainly wouldn’t be a good experience for him. He wasn’t tempted at all.

Not one bit.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “If we fail, I will put all the blame on you.”

Hugo’s returning smile was bright enough to lit up a small city. “Duly noted! Now let’s see what we’ll be doing today.” He took the packet and flipped through it. Varian leaned against the and watched.

One thing that Varian had learned from a week of studying with Hugo was that, against all odds, he was smart. He was amazing at improvisation and memorization. He was also outstanding at chemistry. Almost as good as Varian. Maybe even better.

If this were anyone else, Varian would have never said yes to such a crazy scheme. Yet here he was, watching as Hugo set (read slammed) the packet back down and began fiddling with some chemicals.

“I really hope you know what you’re doing,” Varian said.

“Oh ye of little faith.” Hugo waggled a tube of… something at Varian and fumbled when it started to slip out of his gloved hands. Varian snickered. Hugo glared at him. “Hush up and help me, Ruddiger.”

Varian straightened up and looked down at the packet. He skimmed the final page quickly. “Alright, seems simple enough,” he muttered. “If we’re careful, we can finish it easily.” He looked up to see Hugo pouring one of the substances into a beaker. “What are you doing?”

Hugo maintained eye contact with him as he slowly poured the entirety of the test tube into the beaker. “What does it look like, Ruddiger?”

Varian sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. “And here I thought you were a competent human being. Here, stop.” Varian pried the test tube out of Hugo’s grasp and took the beaker as well. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

Hugo huffed, annoyed. Whether or not he was actually annoyed was debatable. “I’m mixing chemicals together so we can pass the lesson.”

Varian wanted to slap him. “Okay, yeah, I get that. But are you just picking chemicals out of random and mashing them together to see if they work?”

“No!” Hugo said defensively. He snatched back the beaker and Varian wanted to warn him to be careful. “If you were paying attention in class, you need a surplus of a chemical in order to complete the mixture.”

“I-” Varian paused. He did remember Professor Xavier saying something about that a couple days ago. Dammit he hated it when Hugo’s bullshit was actually correct. “Alright fine. Now what?”

Hugo picked up another test tube and handed it to Varian. “Pour about half of that in,” he instructed as if he were the professor. Varian rolled his eyes but did it. He was still a little unsure about the whole Listening to Hugo thing but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little curious.

The two went along like that for a few more minutes, Hugo picking and choosing test tubes seemingly at random. But even then, he acted so confident as each chemical went into the mixture. Varian found himself tracking his movements: the way his ponytail slid over his shoulder as he moved, his mouth quirking into a smirk every once in a while, his hands fumbling with the test tubes. Most of the time, Varian watched and observed people like they were experiments. He found their behaviors fascinating in how they did them everyday and never seemed to notice.

But as he watched Hugo, he felt something stirring in his stomach. Something like… affection?

Varian slapped a hand on his cheek to snap himself out of it. Stop it, Varian, he chided himself. No falling for the attractive, somewhat idiotic roommate.

“Hairstripe?”

He looked up a little too quickly and his head grew light. Hugo held their mixture and a test tube in his hands. He was grinning yet his eyes seemed confused. “Ready to add the last ingredient?”

Varian leaned against the table, feigning casualness. “You’re acting as if we’re baking.”

“I mean, we can, but one step at a time, Ruddiger.” Hugo set the beaker down and held the test tube over it. “Now watch as I add the last chemical!” He was so theatrical. Varian was kind of reminded of himself as a teenager.

Hugo poured the chemical into the beaker, Varian watching in interest, and the second it hit the mixture, a large plume of smoke exploded from it, covering Hugo and Varian’s faces. They backed away quickly, coughing and waving their hands in front of their faces to clear it. Varian peeked one eye open to see the smoke spreading across the room. Other students began to cry out and he heard the professor say, “Not to worry, not to worry! I’ll handle it.”

Varian stumbled as he continued to back away and tripped over his feet. Before he could hit the ground, he felt a firm hand on his arm. He immediately leaned into the person and muttered a quiet, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, Ruddiger,” Hugo’s voice replied.

He considered shoving Hugo down for filling the room with smoke (although it was partially Varian’s fault too) but Hugo was keeping him upright so he left him be.

Soon, the entire class was evacuated into the hallway, muttering to each other as they went. Hugo was still holding onto Varian’s arm and for once, the two made no move to separate. They were silent for a moment before Varian broke it. “Did you know that would happen?”

Hugo wouldn’t look at him. “No comment.”

Varian felt his jaw drop. This asshole tricked him! “You ass! You actually wanted to make a smoke bomb?”

Hugo’s jaw worked. “Maybe.”

“Dick! Why?” Despite his growing anger, he couldn’t help the laugh that burbled up in his throat right after he asked this. He felt duped but in the best possible way.

Once Varian started laughing, Hugo looked over, as if checking that it was alright, and started laughing too. They leaned against each other, laughing hard, as the rest of the class looked on in horror and confusion. “They probably think we’re psychotic,” Varian said quietly to Hugo.

“Let them,” Hugo snorted back.

They continued their laughter until Professor Xavier came into the hallway and promptly stopped them into their tracks. He held up their beaker, which was charred and black. “Here’s a warning to all you kids. Don’t put too many chemicals in at a time.” He eyed Hugo and Varian as he said this and the two bowed their heads in shame.

“Yes, professor,” they chorused.

Lucky for them, Professor Xavier was extremely forgiving. He simply sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Why don’t you two go to the bathroom and clean up?”

Varian looked up and frowned. “Clean up, sir?”

Hugo turned to him and then started laughing again. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice!” He reached over and, before he could protest, ran a finger over Varian’s cheek. Varian blushed before Hugo showed him his finger and the thick amount of char over it. Varian repressed the urge to swear at him again.

“Well you aren’t any better.” And he really wasn’t. He couldn’t help but agree with Hugo and wonder how he didn’t notice the black soot running down Hugo’s nose and a thick layer of it on his cheeks. Hugo made a noise as Professor Xavier shook his head at them.

“Go clean up, boys.”

“Yes sir,” they said immediately and they speed walked away.

There was a bathroom nearby that, unfortunately, did not have any paper towels. Varian took some toilet paper from a stall as Hugo examined himself in the mirror.

“Man, I am worse than you,” he grumbled.

“Probably because you were right over it.” Varian thrust a bundle of toilet paper at Hugo, who took it. He wiped at his face and only a thin layer of soot came off. Varian snickered and Hugo glared at him. “You want to do it for me?” he asked hotly.

Varian chuckled. “Maybe. You clearly have never cleaned yourself before.”

Hugo glared at the toilet paper like it had personally offended him. “I have.”

Varian took it from him and turned on the sink. He put the toilet paper under the water, wetting it. Then, he reached up for Hugo, who flinched away. “I’m not going to hurt you, Jesus, Hugo.” Hugo relaxed and Varian reached up again. “Bend down a little.”

“Finally admitting you’re short, Ruddiger?”

“I could just leave you like this.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” Hugo bent down to Varian’s level and Varian ran the toilet paper over Hugo’s cheeks, washing the soot away. When it got too dirty, Varian threw it in a nearby garbage and took another one.

“Take off your glasses,” Varian said, voice quiet for some reason. Hugo did, folding them and placing them on the sink. Varian sucked in a breath. Hugo looked so different without glasses. His face looked… barer but no less handsome. Varian moved to Hugo’s nose and Hugo’s eyes fluttered shut on instinct. For the second time that day, Varian felt his cheeks warm. He ran the toilet paper up and down Hugo’s thin nose, cleaning off the soot. Once it was clean, Varian threw away the toilet paper and leaned against the sink. “Done.”

Hugo’s green eyes opened and he blinked at Varian. Varian prayed his face wasn’t as red as it felt. Hugo reached for his glasses and then put them on again. Varian half expected him to bolt or something. What he didn’t expect was for Hugo to pick up a piece of toilet paper, wet it and then reach over for him. “My turn,” he said, voice also quiet.

He took Varian’s chin in his hand gently to hold him still and began to run the toilet paper over Varian’s cheeks. Varian found himself staring into Hugo’s eyes as he worked, Hugo’s eyes looking pointedly downwards. Soon the toilet paper was discarded for another one and Hugo set to work on Varian’s other cheek.

This felt intimate. Varian could feel a ghost of a breath tickling his face as Hugo rubbed the toilet paper on his skin. Hugo’s eyes darted towards his and for a split second, their eyes locked. Hugo looked away just as quickly. “Almost done,” he said, voice still hushed.

Varian didn’t trust himself to move as Hugo took another piece of toilet paper and began to run it down Varian’s nose. His eyes closed instinctively as it ran up and down his nose. It felt cool and droplets of water escaped it and were running down Varian’s face. Hugo must’ve drenched it in water. As expected of him.

He was faintly aware of when there was a sudden absence of anything on his face, minus the hand still on his chin. He opened his eyes slowly to see Hugo staring at him, mouth slightly agape, like a fish. He cocked his head. “What?” He could barely hear his own voice over the loud buzzing in his ears.

They stared at each other for seemingly forever, blue staring into green. He felt his chin tip up just slightly. His breath caught. He thought Hugo was leaning in a bit. His face seemed closer.

Then the hand from his chin was gone. Hugo was busying himself throwing away the leftover toilet papers. Varian’s heart ached at the loss of contact but he found it in himself to act normal. He crossed his arms over his chest as he said, louder and disapprovingly, “That’s a waste of toilet paper, Hugo.”

Hugo waved a hand at him. “It’s fine, Ruddiger.”

“It really isn’t.”

Hugo waved his hand again as he made for the door, back to Varian. “You coming, Ruddiger?”

Varian hurried after him and the two were silent as they entered the hallway. The image of Hugo’s eyes staring into his burned into his brain. The sensation of Hugo’s hand on his chin, the thought of them almost… kissing? Surely that’s what was going to happen. Unless Varian read the situation completely wrong. He wasn’t good at reading people or relationships. But this was blatant. Hugo was leaning into him and looking at him like he hung the moon or something. Then what, Varian wondered, made him back away? Hugo was the most confident person he’s ever met. Surely he would’ve dived right into it.

And what about Varian? Honestly, he’s never felt attraction to anyone before besides one girl who was nearly 10 years older than him and that was just a childish crush. He could say with full confidence that Hugo was good looking. But was that it? Was that all Varian saw in him? Or was it something more?

All this stirred in his mind as Hugo broke the awkward silence. “Should we like, go back to class?’

Varian looked over at him, affronted. “Of course! We can’t just skip it for no reason.”

“I mean, I’m sure he’ll understand,” Hugo continues as if Varian had never spoken. “And for all he knows, we’re still in the bathroom.”

He was being weirdly insistent. Varian raised a brow at him. “Do you not want to be yelled at?”

Hugo looked down. “I don’t want to get yelled at.”

It was so childish yet so endearing. Varian put his hands in his pockets. “Well, we left our bags and stuff in the classroom, so we have to go back for that.” He looked up to see Hugo pouting at him, his eyes wide and puppy-like. Varian made a noise in his throat. “Fine. We’ll come back after class to pick them up.”

Almost instantly, Hugo perked up. “Alright! How about a lunch date at the place we normally go to?”

Varian bit his lip. It was a little early for lunch. His stomach growled at him. “Okay.” The two turned around and headed the other direction. “And it’s not a date,” Varian reminded him.

Hugo grinned cheekily. “I won’t give up, Ruddiger.”

There was that cocky confidence again. Varian rolled his eyes and looked away but he couldn’t stop the smile creeping up his face.

Previous Next

[sanderssides-springfling]

Say It Again

For @intrus1veth0ts!

Title (and a few other lines) are from the song I Love You Always Forever, by Donna Lewis. Shoutout to my beta reader, @cygnusfae! (they also chose the title!)

Now have some soft Logicality fic!

Warnings: swearing, kissing, food

Logan came downstairs to the scent of smoke, to find Patton staring at a pot of something on the stove with the most contemptuous look Logan had ever seen on him.

“Patton? Is everything alright?”

Patton bit his lip. “Uh, yeah, so about that homemade dinner…”

Logan sighed, stepping forward to survey the damage.

He was silent for a moment. “How the fuck did you manage to burn spaghetti?”

Patton turned, face planting into Logan’s shoulder. “I don’t know…”

Logan laughed.

“I was gonna do something nice for you…”

“It’s okay…do you wanna go out, or get delivery?”

“This was for you, you get to choose.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re so insistent on this, but okay. I don’t mind going out.”

“You don’t mind, or you want to?”

“You know I can’t make decisions.”

“Well, one of us has to.”

“I mean, we seem rather dressed up to just order pizza.”

Patton nodded, but an uncomfortable expression crossed his face.

“Patton? We don’t have to.”

“No, let’s do it.”

Logan watched Patton carefully. “…Okay.” Logan put the pot in the sink, filling it to soak, while Patton called the restaurant for reservations.

  Logan looped his arm through Patton’s as they walked inside.

They’re seated at a corner table, overlooking the street. Patton’s vision was caught by the view, and Logan smiled softly, his eyes coming to rest on his boyfriend.

“It’s so pretty,” Patton murmured.

Logan followed his gaze. It’s nothing extraordinary, just the old fashioned lamp posts lighting up the passerby, and the steady hum of traffic on the street. He supposed that’s always an ability Patton had, to see the beauty in all the everyday things.

Maybe Logan needed some of that.

The server came by in a few minutes, and took their drink orders. Then, they’re left in silence.

It’s almost magical, the moments like this with Patton. The way his eyes sparkle at something that anyone else would hardly notice. The way he could make anyone feel welcome. 

Logan never felt like he had to fill the silence with Patton. He never had to second guess his behavior, or worry about his complete lack of social skills.

Patton had him covered.

Patton was more fidgety, and less talkative than usual. Logan met his eyes across the table, about to inquire about it, but Patton snapped his attention back to the menu.

“What’re you having?” Patton asked, except it’s not the voice he usually uses with Logan. It’s tense, almost, like he sounds when he’s trying to distract his grandmother away from another meaningless argument.

Logan is a little shaken, but he attempted a smile. “We discussed the decision making issue already.”

“Whatever the special is?”

Logan nodded in agreement, as the server approached their table again.

They placed their order, and then they were left alone again.

“Patton? You’re quiet tonight.”

Patton startled. “Oh. I-uh…yeah.”

“Is everything alright?”

Patton nodded quickly.

“Then what is it?” Logan reached across the table, and took Patton’s hands.

Patton whined. “You’re ruining my plans.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You’re sitting there all gorgeous, and concerned about me, and how am I supposed to wait until dessert at this rate?”

“Wait for what?”

Logan smirked, and Patton clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Fuck.”

“Well, I can see why that would have to wait, but what were you really talking about?”

Patton sighed heavily, slamming his head into the table before Logan could stop him.

Logan tried to stifle a laugh as he reached across the table. “Are you okay?”

“No.” Patton took a deep breath. “Okay, um, here we go.”

Patton stood, and Logan looked up at him in confusion, before Patton crossed to Logan’s side of the booth.

“Patton?”

“Logan, I, I-fuck.”

“What?”

“I forgot the speech I wrote. Okay, you know what, I’m just gonna improvise.”

Logan’s started to piece this together, but he couldn’t stand to interrupt Patton again.

“Um, well, we’ve been together for five years, and I just love you so much, and god, stop looking at me like that, you’re too pretty, I can’t think straight. Well, I’m not straight, am I?” Patton sighed. “I’m getting off track again. So, I planned out this whole thing, but it’s kinda falling apart, so I’m just gonna cut to it. I really, really want to spend the rest of my life with you, and, wait, I’m supposed to be kneeling, aren’t I?”

Logan was laughing almost hysterically, and he wasn’t quite sure if it’s because of how much Patton was messing this up, or if it was just an overflow of love. Probably both.

Patton clumsily got down on one knee, and pulled a box from his pocket. “Will-will you marry me?”

Logan had started crying, but he managed to choke out “Yes.”

Patton smiled, throwing his arms around Logan. Logan pulled him close.

Logan faintly registered applause in the background, he wasn’t aware that was a thing that happened outside of the movies.

“I-um-I gotta put the ring on you.”

Logan frowned. “But then I gotta let go of you.”

“I know, I’ll be quick.” 

Patton pulled back and flipped open the box, slipping the ring onto Logan’s finger.

The band was silver, with a dark blue sapphire set in the center. Small diamonds dot the band around it. Logan could feel an inscription against his finger, he’d have to examine that later.

“I-I love it. I love you.”

Logan brought Patton closer once again, peppering kisses over his face.

The server came back with champagne, and informed them their meal was on the house.

Patton was giggling hysterically, as he managed to pull away and sit across the table from Logan, interlacing their fingers together.

"I didn’t know things like this happened in real life,” Patton said, awed.

“Um…about that,” Logan started.

“What?”

“I hate to make this proposal even more cliche, but-” Logan fumbled in his coat pocket for a moment, before producing a nearly identical box, and sliding it across the table.

Patton was giggling even harder as he clicked open the box.

“It’s beautiful.”

He carefully picked up the ring, examining it, and gasped when he caught sight of the inscription. Everything I will do for you.

“You like it?”

Patton nodded enthusiastically, tears spilling onto his cheeks. “Look-look at yours.”

Logan frowned in confusion, but took off his ring, his eyes glancing over the inside. Everywhere I will be with you.

“Oh.”

Patton nodded, giggling helplessly.

“Roman didn’t tell you,right?”

Logan shook his head. “I had no idea…I guess we really are meant to be.”

“Yeah…I guess we are.”

Logan put his own ring back on, before taking Patton’s and gently slipping it onto his finger. 

He laced their fingers together so the words lined up.

Everywhere I will be with you.

Everything I will do for you.

[nad-zeta]

Match up 😉

I am the bubbly cuddly kind of girl in the group who has a really good sense of humor and try to show sass tho filled with adorableness (YEA IM ADORABLE WAT WILL U DO BOUT IT)-w- your partner in crime. riding horse? FULL SPEEDDD pulling pranks? Ayee lemme in fam. sing a song?? MAMAAAAA OHOHOHHoHoH~~~~ everyones perverted straightforward darling, got a problem u cant solve? no sweetened words babe I will throw the facts o yo face I AM KAWAII thats wat everyone says tho #youdontgettojudgeme my teachers says I will be successful in life due to my out of the box thinking, leadership skills and academic performance YOAAAIIIIIII MO DAO ZU SHI BUNNNIIIIIESSSSSSSSSSSS(give me nobu not kenshin plz) HUUUUUGGGGSSSSS CUDDLESSSSSSS ANIME BOYS?? *SHHHHRRRIIIEEEEEKKKKK SO PERVERT EVEN SATAN BE BLESSING ME(welp mah parents are concerned) so single even my lips are virgin turns to glance at boys ass grabs my besties boobs quotes vines(LoOK At ThiS GrAPh~~~~~~~) overconfident, narcissistic , intelligent[?] (at least I’m a top student) but also insecured the student who reads for a week before exam and mange to get 90% marks thehehe LETS DO THE FORK IN THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL DINGDINGDINGDINH emails my English teacher ‘u’ instead of you still remain her prized student

Hi there, love! Thank you so much for the request 😃<3 I hope you are safe and well! ^0^ I hope you enjoy it, dear ^_^.  Your match just came to me, as if it were written in this very title hehe. ❤❤🔥

So obviously match you with…………… Nobunaga lol

OOOOh girl, when you first arrived in Azuchi, you entered with a bang. You walked straight into that audience hall with your head held high, ready to fight. You now stood in the center of the hall, staring Nobunaga down. The two of you were basically fighting for dominance with your glares. Nobunaga was the first to crack under the intense staring contest, giving you the smuggest grin. He proclaimed you to be their new lucky princess. You thought for a moment, shrug, and said: “Nah, I’m good, but thanx.” Everyone in the room had to do a double-take. Nobunaga’s ruby eyes gleamed in amusement. “then tell me what it is you want as a reward for saving me.” You thought for a few minutes and then responded: “Nah, no thanks needed, you seem like a chilled dude.” Nobunaga just smiles, you certainly were an outspoken, entertaining woman. He then named you as castle chatelaine. You were super happy with that, so you just beamed up at him. You went to take a seat next to Masamune, who was waving you over to him.

Once war council was over; it was only you, Nobunaga, and Masamune left in the room. You were by no means a shy gal, so you chatted freely with them like old friends. They were so surprised and amused at all your perverted jokes and couldn’t help but howl in laughter. You were truly a hilarious woman. The three of you made jokes until Mamayoshi came to remind Nobunaga and Masamune of their duties for the day; they left to do their duties, leaving you all alone now with Hideyoshi. This boi thought from the moment he saw you, that you were going to be trouble. 

However, you pleasantly surprised at him. You worked incredibly hard, and you performed your duties diligently, often exceeding all expectations of you.

Nobunaga wasted no time in spending every possible moment with you. You were such a strange woman, and he couldn’t help but feel incredibly attracted to you. It didn’t even bother him that you had now dubbed him as Nobie. Much to Hideyoshi’s disapproval. But Nobunaga loved how outspoken you were, and low key kinda liked the nickname. He loved that you were always up for any and all adventures, and often the two of you would sneak out the castle and go horse riding. You loved to ride fast and feel the wind in your hair. He really enjoyed these little horse-riding trips with you as it was always filled with laughter and jokes. He loved the fact that you laughed at all his jokes and would always have a comeback leaving the devil king howling in laughter. The two of you would always race back to the castle, to see who the better horse rider was, you always seemed to lose much to your frustration. 

You and Nobunaga truly became super good friends really fast. He would often refer to you as his partner in crime. This was due to the fact that most nights, the two of you would be huddled around a makeshift drawing of the castle planning your candy heist. The two of you would plan everything to perfection, and then after executing a perfect heist, go back to Nobunaga’s room to chomp down on your precious candy loot.

Hehe and you truly fell in love with Nobunaga. You loved how even though he was the ruler and leader of a big clan, he just had this playful fun boyish energy about him. You two goofball are also known for pulling pranks on everyone in the castle in your free time. These pranks will range from putting whoopie cushions on Hideyoshi’s chair and then making a bunch of fart jokes, to messing with the silver kitsune. Although in saying that, you only pranked the silver kitsune once and never again cause that boi is the pranking master and will get you back x2 as bad. Like one time, the two of you just replaced his shampoo with honey, a harmless prank. But boy oh boy, did this kitsune get you back. This boy placed blue dye in all the bathrooms water supply, so when you and Nobunaga went to bath that night, both your bodies were turned blue from the waist down. You honestly thought that it was Nobu’s doing so you marched your way up to his room and slammed his door open only to run into him, storming his way to your room to blame you for the same crime. That is when Mitsuhide appeared and warned both of you against pranking him again.

Even though Nobunaga really loved you, he greatly underestimated your intelligence, which is a mistake he only made one. One day while the two of you were goofing off together, you spotted the latest war map and asked him about it. He explained the war strategies and plans for the upcoming battle in great detail. You looked over the board and map, something seemed off to you. The two of you continued on your day chatting and laughing, while something tugged at the back of your mind. That night you thought about the battle plans and strategies and realized they were slightly off and that they had too little men spread across the plain to successfully win the battle. You went up to Nobunaga to explain this when he basically just rejected your whole explanation. You legit told the facts to him straight, the two of you continued to bicker until you left the room in frustration slamming the door behind you.

You hadn’t spoken to Nobunaga in 2 days, and both of you were now off to war. You helped out around the camp, cooking and patching up injured soldiers. You and Nobunaga low key were avoiding each other, and EVERYONE noticed. It was the night before the final battle, and things weren’t looking too good for the Oda forces, you made your way to Nobunaga’s tent to give him the facts once again, and again he just ignored you. The next day shit was hitting the fan big time. Sweet angel Mitsunari arrived back in the camp being super injured, and that’s when you decided it was now or never. If Nobunaga continued the stupid ass battle strategy, he was gonna get himself killed, and it was no fun being mad at a dead man. You led Mitsunari into the medical tent and handed off your duties as the head doctor to one of the helpers. You then mounted Mitsunari’s horse and rounded up his troops. The lot was honestly running around like headless chickens without leadership. 

You rode out onto the field, remembering the battle plan you wanted to implement to strengthen the Oda’s defenses, they were weakest at the point that Nobunaga took control of. You rode like the speed of light, praying that you weren’t too late. You sent a silent thanks to Sasuke as you still had his smoke bombs, he had gifted you the first night. You rode to support Nobunaga and threw down the smoke bombs, giving you the perfect cover to command your troops to file a flurry of arrows at the enemies and thus giving everyone enough time to retreat and regroup. You saw Nobunaga fighting on foot, and you rode you him, tugging him to get onto your horse.

The two of you rode back to camp. You led him to your tent and patched him up as quick as you could, while patching you up he asked about your strategy, this time listening open-mindedly. After being patched up, he left your tent and was off to the battlefield was more. That night the Oda arrived back victorious, thanks to your and Mitsunari’s improvised battle plan. Nobunaga led you to his tent and apologized for underestimating you and thanked you for your bravery and leadership. After what he had seen, he was determined to make you his queen. He cradled your head in his hands and kissed you for the first time.

The two of you, goofballs make the cutest couple. You had discovered that the devil king is a secret cuddle lover. He loves to hug and cuddle you at all times, whether you are in public or private this boi wants you in his arms. He will devote his life to keeping you happy and will shower you with love and cuddles from sunset to sunrise. He loves laying his head in your lap while you sing to him at night. It’s one of those rare moments that he feels truly at peace and can let his guard down. Well, that is until you start tickling him, then you better be in for a long night cause this boi will get revenge for this playful declaration of war. (^_-)

All and all, this softi boi love you so much from your crazy good sense of humor to your sweet soft cuddles. You are truly the yin to his yang. And the only woman worthy enough in the whole world to rule the world by his side

 Other potential matches……………..Masamune 

I hope you liked it, dear!🔥❤ 

[v-hope]

His members upset you

Pairings: Kim Seokjin / Min Yoongi / Jung Hoseok / Kim Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Request: "Yoongi or all reaction to a member teasing you but it goes too far and makes you cry/upset. Thank youuu💕💕"

A/N: I just went with the hyung line because Yoongs is in it lol.

Kim Seokjin

The second you saw smoke coming out of the kitchen and later took a look at the burnt pastries in the tray, you knew everyone at the dorms wouldn't let you live it down.

And it was actually bearable the first few days, but when that was all they would ever talk about when they saw you? It was fair to say your insecurities were coming to the surface, to the point you didn't really want to spend time with them anymore.

However, you couldn't not spend time with them, for not only were they Seokjin's best friends, but also his roommates.

That had been the case that evening.

“Noona, will you cook for us again?” Jeongguk teased you as expected.

“We'll keep an eye on it so you don't light our kitchen on fire again” Taehyung followed.

“Actually” your boyfriend drew their attention to him, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulder, “I am cooking for you guys tonight”.

The mischievous, lowkey evil smile that was soon to curve up Jin's lips, let you know there was something in his mind.

And when one hour later he called all of you to go eat dinner together, you almost choked at the abomination he had just served in his friends' plates.

They were kinda like brownies, but way more burnt than the ones you had made last week, and by their scrunched up noses right after taking a bite, you knew that them being burnt was far from being the worst part.

“I expect you to eat it all like the grateful people you are” his passive aggressive tone had them all nodding in a heartbeat. “And while you're at it, think twice about ever again teasing my girlfriend like that”.

With that said, he went to get something from the other side of the kitchen, coming back with a bowl of perfectly made brownies and placing it in front of you – later sitting by your side and planting a sweet kiss to your forehead.

Seeing all their faces right then, he didn't think any of them would mess with you anymore.

Min Yoongi

“Who are you and what have you done to Y/N?” were the words that abandoned Jimin's mouth as soon as you entered the living room.

You had laughed at first, just sitting by his side as you waited for the rest to be ready, because you got that you did look different – after all, you were attending an award show with your boyfriend, so wasn't that the point? Both your make up and clothes were pretty different from what you'd wear on a daily basis.

However, as time passed and Jimin kept on pointing out how much you didn't look like yourself, you started feeling self conscious by the second.

And when Jimin went to see how the others were doing and Yoongi finally made it downstairs, he frowned at the thoughtful look on your face – he could read you like a book, and he knew there was something upsetting you.

“Everything alright?” he wondered, slumping down by your side on the couch and loosely wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders.

You shrugged, not really feeling like looking him in the eye. “You think maybe I should go change?” you weakly asked in what came out more like a whisper – his lower lip sticking out in confusion. “I look ridiculous, I'm not me”.

“Baby girl, you look gorgeous” Yoongi stated immediately, “why would you think–”

“Yoongi hyung, Hobi hyung is calling you” Jimin barged in, “I'll keep company to your girlfriend's girlier version”.

That's when Yoongi knew what was happening.

And he didn't like it at all, because he knew how insecure you could be and one look at you was all he needed to know you were already feeling like that.

“Jimin-ah” he called his attention, “I don't want another word about this coming out of your mouth” he warned him.

As a very dumbfounded Jimin opened his mouth to answer, Yoongi beat him to it.

“Now tell Y/N how beautiful she looks”.

“She looks breathtaking, actually” Jimin admitted in a second, making both you and your boyfriend questioningly raise one of your eyebrows. “We all know Y/N's not my type but now she looks really different, which makes her very pretty to my eyes”.

You stared blankly at Jimin for a few seconds while Yoongi's mouth fell agape – and when his eyes focused on you, only to notice your blushy cheeks, he felt his heart jump.

“Maybe you should change after all” he said, earning a roll of eyes from you, followed with a kiss to his pouty lips.

Jung Hoseok

“Angel, what's wrong?” Hobi asked right after he had closed the door to his bedroom.

“Nothing” you quietly said, going to lie down on his bed and bury your face in his pillow.

That sure as hell wasn't nothing to him.

“Y/N” he tried again, lying down by your side before his hand started gently running up and down your back. “You've been quiet the whole day, and I could see how much you actually wanted to take part in the conversation”.

Damn him for knowing you so well.

“Please talk to me?” his lips pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder. You shook your head no, already feeling the tears start to roll down your cheeks. The second he noticed that, Hoseok felt his heart twinge in pain. “Baby, please. Please tell me what's wrong, let me hear your voice”.

“I don't understand why you'd want me to speak when apparently everyone wants me to shut up” you managed to choke out.

“What?” he whispered, trying to get you look at him.

You shook your head once again, only burying your face further in the pillow.

“Y/N…”

“I don't wanna talk, Hoseok”.

“What did they say?” he desperately asked, his gut telling him this somehow had to do with the moment he and Yoongi had left the house to go buy something to eat.

You sighed, taking a deep, shaky breath so you could speak. “They just mocked me” you finally looked at him, making him feel lightheaded at the sight of your tear stained face. “I know they didn't mean it in a bad way” you sniffled, allowing him to wipe your tears, “but they made me realise how annoying and loud I am, and–”

Hoseok breathed heavily, wrapping his arms tighter around you and kissing the tip of your nose.

“If you don't mind, I'd like not to speak for a while”.

Oh, but he did mind.

Because, you see, when it takes you a while to get the person you love to feel comfortable enough around you to be themselves, to be talkative and loud, even picking up on some of your antics, and someone else has the nerve to take that away from you, you don't just sit there idly.

Which is exactly why minutes later, when Hoseok kissed your temple and made sure you were fast asleep, he decided to stand up and call his members to an improvised intervention.

You can bet he was giving them a piece of his mind.

Kim Namjoon

Being a foreigner, you knew your Korean was not the best. And that was totally fine, right? You were still learning.

You were actually pretty eager with the whole ‘learning a new language’ thing, especially when you had a guy like Namjoon by your side – being bilingual himself, he knew all your struggles, and did his best to help you through the whole process.

And it was exactly because you were excited about speaking Korean, that Joon knew something was wrong when you suddenly stopped speaking with your usual confidence. Even worse, you didn't take your risk with phrases or words you didn't know that well anymore, instead switching to your mother tongue, in hopes he'd get the drift.

At first he thought nothing of it, thinking you were just too tired... until he eavesdropped his members mocking your accent and usual mistakes. Now, they had called it cute, but the way they had said it still made it hurtful.

The fact that you had heard it too, since you were by his side, made his blood boil.

“I think it's a bit hypocritical of you guys to make fun of her Korean when not even you know how to speak it properly”.

The guys? They all looked like deers caught in the lights of an oncoming bus.

You could've sworn their souls left their bodies, making you actually feel bad for them.

“Nams” you called softly, grabbing his hand as you tried to get him to calm down. “It's okay”.

“No, Y/N, this is not okay” he shook his head, focusing his eyes back on his friends. “You do never mock someone who's smart enough to speak more than one language. She can literally drag all your asses in two languages, can you even say one perfect sentence in hers?”

They could not – their silence being enough to let both of you acknowledge that.

“That's what I thought” he pulled you towards him, placing his hand on your waist. “Now apologise to her”.

It was fair to say, Kim Namjoon owned your whole heart by then.

[crazy-little-cool-cat]

Hand in Glove - Chapter 24 | Ben Hardy x OFC

A/N: I’m a shooting star leaping through the skies like a tiger, defying the laws of gravity. Don’t stop me now. Also, y’all can thank the Jewish holidays for giving me so much free time to write. This chapter was written in collaboration with @ramibaby​. My dear, thank you for sacrificing your fics for this chapter. You are a champion. 

Word Count: Laughs nervously.

Warnings: There’s smut. Also, I’m kind of making fun of fanfics in this one, which means I’m making fun of myself, mostly, so please, fellow writer - do not take this seriously. This is pure fun. If you’re confused by this statement, just read the chapter and your issues will be resolved. 

Chapter 1, Chapter 2,  Chapter 3,  Chapter 4,  Chapter 5,  Chapter 6,  Chapter 7,  Chapter 8,  Chapter 9,  Chapter 10,  Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14 , Chapter 15 , Chapter 16 , Chapter 17 , Chapter 18 , Chapter 19 , Chapter 20 , Chapter 21 , Chapter 22 , Chapter 23

“Bullocks.”

“I’m telling you, Jamie. They hated it.”

“Sweet Clara,” Jamie shook his head and pursed his lips, “they’re lying. At least one of them is.”

“Who’s lying?” Annie startled them both.

“You are.” Jamie said, tongue in cheek.

“Enlighten me.” Annie crossed her arms.

“We’ve kissed, what, trillions of times?” Jamie asked. “Not one of them was like kissing a croc. Or an eel.”

“How do you even know -”

“The Snitcher here told me all about it.” Jamie patted Clara’s head. “Anyways, someone’s lying.”

Annie took a deep breath.

“Well, then?” Jamie tapped his foot as he waited for Annie to either tear him a new asshole or come clean. “Which one is it?”

“I mean, it wasn’t that bad.” Annie said, looking at the ground.

“Oh, no…” Clara took a step back while Jamie lifted his closed fist and released it, dropping an invisible mic. “Annie, what are you saying?”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Annie shrugged. “Did I make a whole show of it to get you knuckleheads to stop? Yes. But so did Joe.”

“Wait, what?”

“Oh, the plot thickens!” Jamie leered.

“Fuck off, Jamie.” Annie shot back. “Look, did I like the way Joe kissed me? No. Not really. He’s too gentle.”

“But?” Clara prodded on.

“But it wasn’t as horrible as we both said it was.” Annie said casually. “Will I do it again now that I know what it’s like? Nope.”

“Jamie?” Clara looked at the tall redhead.

Jamie squinted suspiciously at Annie, scrutinizing her from head to toe.

“She’s telling the truth.”

###

“How many more of these do we have left?” Ben rubbed his face with both hands and threw his head back against the back of the sofa he, Gwilym, Rami and Joe were crammed in since the morning. “If I have to answer the same bloody questions again…”

They finally got a break. Gwilym decided to go stretch his legs a bit and Rami went out for a smoke, leaving Ben and Joe alone in the room.

“I know, right?” Joe grumbled.

“Can I ask you something?” Ben removed his hands and turned his head to look at Joe.

“Shoot.”

“You liked kissing her, didn’t you?”

“Look, Ben, I don’t want to hurt your feelings…”

“So, you did.”

“It wasn’t as horrible as we made it seem, no.” Joe started. “But I didn’t like the way she kissed me, man.”

“What?”

“She’s too aggressive.” Joe shrugged. “The lip biting thing? I don’t like it.”

“Wait -”

“I mean, she’s not a bad kisser at all.” Joe rephrased. “Very... passionate.”

“Huh.”

“Just a bit too much for my liking.”

“Good. That’s good.” Ben straightened up. “So it won’t happen again?”

“No.” Joe smiled. “Although, her kiss did make me wonder what your sex life is like.”

“Amazing, actually.”

###

Annie stared at her phone, scratching her head in confusion. After looking through her texts while Ben filled the car with petrol, she had half a mind to pay someone to build a flying saucer for her and her family leave this planet forever.

“What’s wrong?” Ben said as he put on his seat-belt.

“The world.”

“Uh?”

“There’s people out there pining over Clara and me. Like, romantically.”

“Come again?” Ben adjusted the rear view mirror and smiled when Rory’s reflection appeared. “What are you on about?”

“They call us Clannie, Ben.”

“What?”

“They’re writing stories about Clara and me as a couple. Graphic stuff.”

“Can you send me a link to one of them?” Ben smirked.

“No!” Annie shuddered. “You sick, sick man!”

“Could be hot.” He shrugged.

“So could the stories about you, Gwilly and Joe.” Annie smirked back.

“What, like Gwil and me, Joe and me, and Gwil and Joe?”

“No, no,” Annie stifled a chuckle. “All three of you at once.”

Ben blinked, staring at the road ahead.

“Da!”

“Yeah, baby?” Ben replied instinctively, before slamming his foot on the breaks. “Did she just call me Da?”

“She’s six months old, I’m not sure babies start talking at that age.”

“She called me Da.” Ben insisted.

“She’s a babbling blob, Ben.” Annie rolled her eyes. “She didn’t call you Da.”

“She said her first word and it was Da.”

“Ben, you’re being irrational.”

“You’re jealous.”

“Da! Ba! Bfffffffffff!” Rory continued.

“I know, Rory,” Annie turned around in her seat, “but doing press interviews can make anyone hear things.”

“Sssssssseeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

“You’re absolutely right.” Annie replied. “But we love him anyways.”

###

If there’s one thing Annie hated the most about promoting season two of Greensleeves, it’s doing the interviews and late-night talk shows. Same questions, different people. It got tiresome. She managed to play the “Baby Card” more times than she’d expected... Until the producers realised what she was doing and the proverbial party was officially over.

“So, is the cast really that close?” Jason, the host, asked Clara and Annie.

“Some are closer than others.” Annie replied, surprisingly diplomatically. “Jamie and I have known each other before and Clara and I basically grew up together, so that was inevitable.”

“The previous George Boleyn was alright, I suppose. He didn’t last too long, though.” Clara chimed in. “But the new guy? We love Mike.”

“Oh yeah, he fit right in.” Annie smiled. “As far as the older cast members - we look up to them, but we don’t share our nonsense with them too much.”

“What about Jane Seymour’s character?” Jason asked.

“Well, we haven’t met her yet.” Annie confessed. “The production team’s goal was for art to truly imitate life and they want my reaction to be as genuine as possible. We haven’t filmed the part she comes into the picture just yet.”

“We don’t even know who she is, to be honest.” Clara added.

“I suspect someone messed up and forgot to cast a Jane, really.” Annie shrugged.

“Careful, there, Annabelle.” Jason chuckled. “Keep calling the production team out like that and you’ll end up fired.”

“I’ll be beheaded either way.”

“And what a glorious sight it will be.” Clara cheekily teased her.

“You two seem to have an amazing bond.” Jason admitted. “Do you ever fight?”

“All couples do.” Clara answered and Jason audibly gasped. “We don’t like to be too public about our tiffs.”

“Clara, you blithering fool…” Annie smacked her own forehead dramatically.

“Well, since you ladies brought it up -”

“Not this lady.” Annie muttered, pointing at herself.

“- what exactly is Clannie? I assume you’ve heard the term before.”

Clara and Annie exchanged amused smiles and sighed simultaneously.

“The bane of my existence.” Annie replied.

“Basically, I stumbled upon it the other day after a fan sent me a private message on Instagram, saying there’s an actual hashtag people use when they talk about Annie and I.”

“Sounds innocent enough.” Jason shrugged.

“Oh, you dirty, dirty man.” Clara joked. “You know damn well where this is going.”

“You seem to be enjoying this!” Jason laughed.

“Believe me, she loves every bloody minute of it.” Annie chimed in.

“Right, so as I snooped around I found that Clannie is like a code name for Annie and I as a couple.”

“Aha.”

“And the more I delved in, the more entertaining it got. People are writing some pretty wild fanfiction stories about us.”

“Is it really all fiction?” Jason asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you’ll look at the screen here,” Jason turned back a little where a huge image behind the scenes of Greensleeves appeared. It was one of Annie licking cake off Clara’s face, “the show’s Instagram page is like fodder for the Clannie enthusiasts.”

“Oh my God, I forgot about that!” Annie burst out laughing. “It was Clara’s birthday! Season one! Jamie took this picture, actually. Right after I smashed Clara’s face into that cake.”

“It’s tradition.” Clara explained. “The cake licking part was definitely improvised.”

###

“Ben?”

“In here!”

Annie followed the sound of Ben’s voice and found him in the living room, folding laundry while watching whatever was on the telly.

“I am absolutely shattered.” Annie wrapped her hands around Ben’s waist and looked up at him. “Longest day in my entire life.”

“Likewise.” Ben murmured and kissed her. “Just got home a couple of hours ago. When I picked Rory up from my mum’s she was already asleep.”

“God, I wish I could be her for a day.”

“Yeah? Want me to give you baths and carry you in my arms and nibble on your little bum after I change your nappy?” Ben raised an eyebrow. “Just say the word. Also Joe and Gwil shot a weird little bit today when they read what Tumblr users said about the movie and cast and do people not wank anymore?”

“I, uh…” Annie was at a loss for words.

“How was your day?”

“If I have to hear about Clannie again I will definitely clock someone.” Annie released her grip on Ben and collapsed on the sofa. “Why are people so obsessed with this?”

“Two hot birds doing naughty things?” Ben shrugged. “I can see the appeal of it.”

“Ben, no.”

“Don’t be such a prude, now, love.” He put the last item of folded clothing in the hamper and flopped down next to Annie, his hand trailing up her thigh.

“Ben…”

“I missed you, alright?” his fingers poked their way under the waistband of her leggings. “I can’t stop missing you.”

“Ben, seriously, I’m so tired.” She grumped as he slid off the sofa and positioned himself in front of her, nudging her legs open. “I missed you too but -”

“Let me do all the work.” He looked up at her through his eyelashes as his hands gripped her waistband again. He looked up at Annie with his best puppy dog eyes and waited for her consent. With a sigh, she lifted her bum up, letting Ben pull her leggings and knickers down in one swift motion. “Good girl.”

###

When Ben’s phone rang for the fifth time and Gwilym’s name showed up on the screen yet again, he knew something was either horribly wrong or that Gwilym is drunk and emotional. Glancing at Annie, they both sighed in resignation before taking the FaceTime call.

“Have you been drinking?” Annie asked when Clara showed up on the screen. “What kind of fuckery is this?”

“We found a good story and we just had to share, alright? Calm your tits, Annie. It’s not a Clannie.” Clara rolled her eyes. “Why won’t Joe pick up?”

“I just texted him to pick up.” Ben shoved the screen into view. “As his husband, he’ll surely listen to me.”

“Bugger off!” Gwil turned his phone around and flipped him the bird.

“Why have I been summoned?” Joe asked, his face appearing on the screen.

“Well, we have a treat for you!” Clara practically sang.

“A treat?”

“Yours socks are going to fly right off, mate.” Gwil added as Clara pulled the story up on her phone. “You’re not ready for this.”

With a devilish smile to the camera, Clara cleared her throat and began.

“’Joe…?’ Ben croaked, eyes still closed, brow low and fingers wrapped firmly around his length over his jeans.” Clara started reading.

“Off to a good start.” Annie teased.

“It gets better.” Clara commented. “Right, where was I? Ah. There.” She snickered. “Suddenly, his eyes shot open and they landed on you once again; glassy and dazed they were as he stared you down, stroking himself with more purpose. He looked at you with such focus and intent, it was as though he was about to devour you whole. You looked at him with such longing, it was as though you were about to let him. ‘Undress… h-her.’ His words came out in a strangled whine and he bit his lip, looking over your body expectantly as Joe wordlessly obliged.” Clara raised her eyes from the screen and huffed. “Gwil, stop smiling like that!”

“What in the bloody hell is this?” Ben was visibly annoyed. “I do not whine. Annie, tell them I don’t whine!”

“He really doesn’t.” Annie nodded. “But Joe doing everything Ben says? That person hit the nail on the head right there.”

“Hey!” Joe’s brows knotted. “I don’t do everything he says!”

“But you do.” Ben and Annie choired.

“Shut up, you two-headed-monster.”

“People, can we please focus on the important stuff? There’s more to read here.” Clara scolded them. “Let’s see… Oh, this is good! Your nerves grew as a pair of warm hands rounded your shoulders from behind. Joe must have felt you tense up a little as he leaned down to murmur in your ear, ‘Alright, Y/N?’ The ghost of his words made you shiver on their way past.”

“Who the fuck is Whyanne?” Ben interrupted.

“Sounds like some hillbilly from a West Virginian trailer park with a potato gun and a cousin with missing teeth.” Joe added.

“What?” Clara was visibly confused.

“Who’s Whyanne and why did I tell Joe to undress her? This makes no bloody sense.”

“It’s written as Y-slash-N, you knobs.” Gwil explained. “Carry on, doll.”

“Anyways.” Clara continued. “You smiled at his redundant question - of course you weren’t.”

“I don’t like where this is going.” Joe commented. “Sounds a bit rapey.”

“Just let me finish!” Clara groaned. “You were certain your panties were soaked through at the mere sight of them - a fact you felt too compelling to keep to yourself. With that in mind, you shook your head slowly from side to side, eyes still on Ben before you, your chest inflating as you drew in a deep breath. Ben shot you a confused look, concerned you were having second thoughts.”

“Yeah, this is definitely rapey.” Joe concluded.

“Joe, if you won’t let her finish a bloody paragraph, so help me God…” Annie threatened, clearly invested in the story.

“Thank you, Banana!” Clara put a hand over her heart with a grateful smile. “Wait I lost my spot again… duh-duh-duh… there it is!” She smiled triumphantly. “Here we go. Hold on to your manties, gentlemen, this is about to get steamy.” She took a deep breath and got into character. “‘No,’ you breathed, tilting your head back to look at Joe. You reached a hand up to cup his jaw as he looked down at you, a look of worry overtaking his soft features.”

“My features aren’t soft.” Joe muttered. “They’re manly and feral.”

“Of course they are, bub.” Annie reassured him.

“Guys! Come on!” Clara snapped her fingers at the camera. “Focus!”

“Sorry.” Annie said sheepishly.

“’I’m so fucking wet and…”

“Whoa, whoa!” Ben cut her off. “Gwilym, control your woman!”

“She’s reading the story, you saggy tit.” Gwil explained.

“Joe emitted a soft whine -” Clara paused, knowing an interruption is due. “Joe, sweetheart, this sounds like something you’d do, don’t even think about denying it.” She pointed at the camera. “- Joe emitted a soft whine and his expression shifted; his eyes dark and nostrils flaring as his grip on your shoulders tightened. Pushing your ass back against his crotch, you disclosed, ‘…I think I’ve ruined my favourite…” Clara burst out laughing. “Sorry. ‘I’ve ruined my favourite -” the pitch in her voice rose ten octaves at the last syllable as she tried to stop laughing like a madwoman. “My favourite…” Clara was absolutely wheezing. She tried to finish the sentence, but all that came out of her was a screechy, “laaaaaace-pannnnneeeeeeeeeeeeeee”.

“What?” Ben looked at Annie in utter bewilderment. Annie shrugged in response.

“What was that last part?” Joe scratched his head as he tried to make sense of Clara’s incoherent shrieking.

“Lace panties.” Gwilym’s voice saved the day and translated his hysterical girlfriend’s nonsensical mumbling. “She ruined her favourite lace panties.”

“Oh.” Joe, Ben and Annie choired.

“Clara, compose yourself.” Gwil chuckled as she physically doubled over, tears running down, her laughter leaving her breathless. Moving to sit next to her and switch to the front camera on his device, he took Clara’s phone from her. “Right, guess I’m going to take charge now. You furrowed your brow, your mouth ajar as you began to slowly grind against him, your hand never leaving the side of his face as his eyes bore into yours.” Gwilym paused. “Seems anatomically impossible if her back is against you unless you have a freakishly long neck.”

“I thought she was looking at Ben?” Joe asked.

“She’s clearly looking at you, Joe.” Annie quipped.

“Joe tried to keep his composure - to play along in the same teasingly innocent tone as yours, but the feeling of you moving against him must have been a little to much to bear as he stuttered ‘oh n-no…” Gwilym snorted. “Wow Joe, got a little excited there, hm? His hands trailed down your waist before resting on your hips. He held onto them tight as he pushed his clothed hard on against you with such force you drew in a deep breath.”

“Oh, wow.” Annie leaned back, her eyes wide. “The power of Joe’s boner really got her there.”

“His voice was low as he murmured, ‘surely we can - ugh,” he licked his bottom lip, eyes closing a moment as you felt his cock twitch against your ass - he was just as worked up as you.” Gwilym paused there, mulling over what he had just read aloud. “Joe, whoever wrote this seems to think you have a speech impediment.”

“Right?!” Joe asked, “Why do I keep stuttering?! I’m the most charismatic one!”

“Anyways.” Gwilym said, ignoring Joe’s last comment. “His eyes fluttered open and he continued, ‘surely we can make it up to you’. ‘I’d like that Joey…’ you smiled.”

Joe, Ben and Annie waited, not sure if that was it or if there’s more to the story. After a minute of Clara’s heaving and the rest sitting in silence, Annie finally spoke.

“To be fair,” she looked at Ben, “if it weren’t for the lace panties, I’d be willing to bet cold hard cash that Gwil wrote that for himself to read.”

###

“Hey, Joe! I bought something for you to take on your tour!” Annie beamed mischievously.

It was the night the guys - minus Ben - were leaving for the press tour and Annie went out on a whim earlier that day and decided to tease Joe in the best way she could possibly imagine.

“Well? What is it?” Joe asked impatiently.

They were all gathered at Annie and Ben’s, from which the car to the airport was picking the rest of the guys up. Ben was mopey and miserable, a stark contrast to Annie’s cheeriness.

“Close your eyes.” Annie drawled.

“I’d rather keep them open, actually.”

“Alright then.” Annie shrugged and left the room to fetch Joe’s present. She returned with a life-sized cardboard cutout of Ben. “Ta-daaa!”

“I love it!” Joe gushed and rushed over to her, taking the present and looking it over. “What’s his name?”

“I call him Ben Cardy.” Annie said proudly. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh Ben!” Joe’s smile was so wide, his face could split in half. “It’s like you’ll be with us after all!”

###

Ben was staring at his phone intently, his hand lazily palming his crotch. He knew he shouldn’t have done that. He should not have gone down the Clannie rabbit-hole. But Annie was away at work, Rory was napping, and he just felt compelled to at least give it a look. He almost hung from the bedroom ceiling fan when Annie cleared her throat, announcing her presence. He dropped his phone with a yelp.

“Jesus, Annie!”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Annie choked back a chuckle. “Also, surprise!”

“Why are you home?” Ben fumbled for his phone.

“Well, this is not what I was hoping you’d say.”

“Sorry, I mean -”

“I can leave if you want me to.” Annie suggested.

“What? No. Shut up.” Ben rambled. “Why are you home so early?”

“I figured you’d be sad and lonely now that the guys are away and decided to surprise you and come home early.” Annie shrugged. “Clearly, this isn’t the reaction I was expecting.”

“Christ. I’m sorry.” Ben’s face was beet-red. “I’m happy you’re home, obviously.”

“What do you have there?”

“Nothing.” Ben powered the screen off and tossed his phone aside. “C’mere.”

“No, there’s definitely something.” Annie stepped back and shook her head. “Was that porn?”

Ben had only a split second to think about a satisfactory answer that wasn’t also a total lie.

“Yes.”

“Well, that explains the tent you’re sporting.” Annie smirked. “Were you just getting started?”

“Uh.” Ben furrowed his brows.

“Alright. What’s up?” Annie pointed at Ben’s crotch. “Other than that.”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” Shame flashed in Ben’s eyes. “Just regular porn, y’know.”

“Ben.”

“Annie.”

“Give me the phone.”

“No.”

“Are you…” Annie grimaced. “Are you sexting someone?”

“What? No!”

“You’re hiding something.”

“Annie, just let it go.”

“Fuck off. Give me the phone.”

Ben bit his bottom lip as he contemplated his next course of action. Either he tells Annie what’s on his phone, or he tries to distract her long enough for her to forget about it. When Annie lunged forward and made grabby-hands at his phone, his instincts kicked in. He physically blocked her.

“Annie, stop.”

“What the fuck!”

“It’s a Clannie story, alright?!” he almost growled at her. “There. Now you know.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Ben, that’s…” Annie struggled to find the proper adjective.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Ben looked mortified. “I was bored and lonely. It’s horrible.”

“Then why are you hard?”

“Because it turns me on.”

“I’m confused.”

“Look, it’s not Hemingway, alright?” Ben groaned. “But the stuff this person wrote? The mental image I have planted in my brain now?”

“Good Lord.”

“Just come here. Listen.”

“Have you gone utterly bonkers, Jones?”

“Seriously. Come here.” He patted the empty space on the bed next to him.

Muttering to herself, Annie did as asked and snuggled up to her boyfriend.

“Right, so I’m skipping the beginning because that was just all kinds of blah.” Ben’s voice had an animated quality to it as he scrolled. “There. Listen.”

“You’re awful.” Annie mumbled. “This is domestic abuse.”

“Shut up.” Ben got comfortable and began. “’I’ve never been with a woman before…’ Clara confessed shyly, avoiding Annie’s piercing gaze.”

“Starting off with a lie, I see.” Annie scoffed and rolled her eyes, trying to stop Ben from reading any further.

“Annie simply smiled at how bashful Clara had become. Reaching out, Annie tucked a wayward strand of hair behind Clara’s ear. Clara leaned into it smiling softly as her eyes met Annie’s once again. ‘Would you like to?’ Annie asked boldly -”

“Alright, stop right there.” Annie sat up straighter. “I am sick and tired of everyone feeling like Clara is this sweet, innocent, baby angel all the time and I’m some she-devil, maneater, sex-crazed banshee.”

“You were cast as Anne Boleyn for a reason, love.”

“That’s besides the point! Clara is a filthy, naughty little elf!”

“Right. Anyhow.” Ben cleared his throat. “‘Would you like to?’ Annie asked boldly sitting up on her heels so their faces were only inches apart. She could feel Clara’s warm breath ghost her cheeks as she replied quietly, ‘yes.’”

Ben paused and waited for Annie’s outraged reaction.

“No comment?” He asked, genuinely surprised.

“Nope. You know, with me being such a bloody whore and enticing sweet blondes into sex all the time and whatnot. Carry on.”

“I mean, where’s the lie, though?”

“In case you forgot, you kissed me on our first date. And convinced me to have unprotected sex.”

“You should thank me for it.” Ben booped Annie’s nose with his finger. “Gave us Rory.”

“Goddamn it. You’re right.”

“Let me just find where I was when you so rudely interrupted me and scared the shit out of me…” he scrolled through the story. “There. ‘Fuck Clara, so good!’ Annie moaned, bare chest heaving as she grasped at the bed sheets beneath her. For someone who had never been with a woman before, Clara certainly knew how to use her tongue in a way that had Annie screaming in delight.”

“This? This makes you horny?” Annie snorted.

“Shut up.” Ben kept scrolling. “Oh, this bit is juicy. ‘Thought about this for so long.’ Annie breathed, her fingers parting Clara’s slick folds and spreading her wetness around. Slick folds?” Ben blinked at the screen.

“My ears feel like they’ve been sexually assaulted.”

“Slick folds. Okay.” Ben took a second to recover. “Hmmm… ‘Thought about what your sweet voice would sound like moaning my name.” Annie continued. Clara’s breath hitched and hips jerked as Annie began lazily circling her engorged clit -”

“Oh my God that’s not even remotely sexy.” Annie covered her mouth with her hand. “Engorged clit?!”

“-’Fuck, Annie, make me cum!’ Clara almost sobbed.”

“Alright, stop. I’m the one almost sobbing.” Annie looked up at Ben as if she’d seen a ghost. “What the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know, but my cock is throbbing.”

###

“Do you two even realise what you’ve done?” Greensleeves’ executive producers were beyond livid. “The fans are furious!”

“They’re furious?!” Annie barked back. “Did you even see the utter shit that’s out there?!”

“It’s not that bad.” Clara shrugged. “Some of it’s pretty good.”

“Clara, if you don’t zip it -” Annie muttered, clenching her fists.

“Ben seemed to like it.” Clara blurted out in anger.

“Oh?” Jamie’s ears perked up. “Our little Benny Boy wants to see his girl get it on with her best friend?”

“Stay out of it, James.” If looks could kill, Jamie would be dead, resurrected and killed again, for good measure.

“Not a chance, Annabelle.”

“You imbeciles need to stop being so rude to our fans.” The executive leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, pointing at the trio. “If they want to write porn about the three of you, you shut up and look the other way. You don’t go on national television and bitch about it!” he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

“I’m guessing Ben won’t be into any Jannie stories, then?” Jamie quipped and earned a slap to the back of his head. “Ow!”

“Any publicity is good publicity?” Clara asked timidly.

“I mean, some of our fans loved our honesty. They’re all about Team Clannie now.” Annie said.

“Yeah, and some of them are planning to assassinate you for being evil enough to seduce Ben Hardy and Gwilym Lee with your witch-magic superpowers.” Mike finally spoke. “You two are in for some serious rounds of online shit-talking, ladies. Enjoy.”

#########

TAGLIST:  @ramibaby @xgoingdownx @qweenly @violetpond @sweeterthancheese @drummerqueenrmt @westansstuff @justgivemethekeys  @blondecarfucker @cheeseedreams47 @deacy-dearest @pinkmarvel @onceuponadetectivedemigod

[watchingminecraftyansim]

Post 5 - Late Again

Hi, I’m Isabelle, and only one post this week, because I do not feel well, physically, I mean. emotionally and mentally I’m fine. Anyways let’s get onto talking about episode #6 of Yandere High School by SamGladiator

This episode starts out where the last one left off, with lunch ending and the students heading towards gym class. Here Rowan says that the students will be getting a field day, because he gets a bonus if the students don’t exercise that day, and while I’m no expert, I think having students not exercise is the opposite of the job of a P.E. teacher. Everyone then goes and plays outside on a playground that wasn’t there yesterday, Taurtis goes down a slide and falls off half way down. JtsTheDane says that “This is like falling down the mountains in Sweden.”, there is a lot of things I find wrong with this statement, first of all, his name has Dane in it, not Swede, second the Jotunheim Mountains, are primarily in Norway, and it’s true that some of them are in Sweden, some of the Rocky Mountains are in Canada, but they are usually thought of as an American thing. Plus they already mentioned him being from Norway previously, was it THAT HARD to say Norway instead of Sweden? Have I gotten to worked up about a small anachronism in a Minecraft roleplaying series? Yes, most likely. Moving on from my geography rant, we meet Salex, someone who starts flirting with Taurtis the instant she lays eyes on him. I mean… you do you ma’am. We also get the obligatory Invader flirts with Sam, Sam finds it gross, I comment on how it’s because of the beard and make snarky comments about how that’s not cool, we’ve done this song and dance before, you know how it goes. A funny bit from this episode is everyone jumping on one side of a seesaw that doesn’t work, because it’s minecraft, to try and lift PowerDragon. There’s no plot relevance to this bit, I just chuckled every time I saw it in the background of the video. Taurtis manages to get Salex’s number and Sam suggests a double date, with him and Sookie as the couple despite the fact that he and Sookie are not dating. A fact when Taurtis asks Sookie if she and Sam are dating, and she honestly just seems confused, along with saying Invader can have him when she threatens to fight her over who can have Sam. Sam punches Invader at one point and Rowan fucking decks Sam because he will not stand for abuse. We then see Jay and Gareth in the “Kissing Shed ;)”, and it doesn’t look like they are kissing, but rather Jay is just sitting in the shed while Gareth smokes some weed in the corner. Taurtis and Sam then go to do hopscotch, but not before Taurtis gets himself stuck in a soccer net and get punched out of it by Rowan. Sam then proves to be unexpectedly good at hop scotch, skipping 8 blocks, with the help of being punched. After some more hopscotch related shenanigans we see J stuck at the top of a tower of sand, and Sam punching the sand to get him down. After this Sam and Taurtis discuss ideas for movies to see on their double date, eventually settling on Bee Movie, with Sam stating that he hates Paul Blart Mall Cop, and Rowan states that he loves Bee Movie and that he will go along with the kids. Sam then decides to ask Sookie out for the double date and it goes well, with him rambling and messing up his talking to her, so overall an 8/10 on the asking her out, I wouldn’t have done much better.

After this Sam comes up with the idea for the scam of the century, where he and Taurtis race, and everyone bets on Taurtis and then Taurtis wins and they split the money. Their words not mine. Either Sam or I don’t know how betting works, because I am confused about how this would work Rowan races Taurtis instead and beats him by a lot, but no one really counts that. Then the proper betting on the Sam Vs. Taurtis race commences, with sam taking the bet money, and then a rain storm starts, and Sam pockets the betting money, cancelling the race due to rain, saying that it will happen tomorrow. Will it happen? Probably not, Sam likely hustled the whole school. Everyone heads back inside, but Jay ventures outside for a minute in the rain and gets struck by lightning, but school ends before they can get him to the nurse’s office (side note, does this school even have a nurse? They ask this in the show and don’t get an answer), so Rowan just kicks them out with Jay jumping off of the school’s upper floor balcony followed by Taurtis. Sam and Taurtis then head to Jay’s house along with ChanYandere for Manga club, and Sam keeps calling them comic books. On the way we see teacher Gareth sitting in the middle of the road, can someone like, check on him? He’s obviously not doing well. We then get to Jay’s house and he has made a miraculous recovery after having roughly 1.21 gigawatts of power delivered directly to his nervous system. We then get to see everyone in the manga club, there’s Invader, a couple other people, and the best character in this series, Jts, who is making food for everyone. We then see Rowan staring at the manga club from across the street in his apartment. We also see Jay’s cat, who is being loud, in order to quiet him down Taurtis feeds him cat meat, I don’t have any funny comments here, just take it in. Invader says that HunterXHunter is her favorite mango. Jts finally finishes what he was cooking, Rabbit stew, and gives some to everyone, Sam is understandably upset by this, but before we can get too deep into that the manga club transforms into the Hot Wheels® Club. Invader gives Sam a Hot Wheels® car, and they abandon talking about Manga in favor of playing with their Hot Wheels®. ChanYandere does not seem impressed by this.

Taurtis and Sam notice Rowan still watching them from his balcony, and tell him to stop staring at them and to watch his TV. Rowan’s response is that he wants to watch the Bee Movie. We also see Gareth in Rowan’s apartment, who had come over to watch Paul Blart. Sam says they should sneak over there to watch it, and when questioned by Taurtis, asking that he thought Sam hated Paul Blart, he responds that he likes sneaking around and doing illegal stuff. Taurtis jumps off Jay’s balcony to get to the sidewalk, while Sam takes the stairs and the two start to sneak into an apartment. Notice I said an apartment, because it is not Rowan’s. They soon realize their mistake and make their way up to Rowan’s apartment, and instead of sneaking in they ring the doorbell and ask to be let in. While they’re doing that Gareth states that he got the wrong film, and instead got the Spanish dub of the Minion Movie, which I would argue is worse than Paul Blart, all things considered, even if Gareth considers it his favorite anime. We also then realize the TV is in Rowan’s bedroom so they would all have to squeeze into there to watch it, so then they make their excuses and leave, stating that they are going on a double date. Rowan tells the boys to go pursue their love shouting “#Invadater”. It is then revealed that the apartment they went in accidentally was Invaders and when Sam asks Taurtis to come up with an excuse he says that sam wanted to panty raid her, to which invader responds with “;)”. Whatever floats her boat I guess. They then go home and play Smash Bros Melee, with Taurtis saying he mains Meta Knight, even though he was added to the franchise in Brawl, I swear it’s like they didn’t even google these small likely improvised bits before they said them. 

And that was the end of the episode. Also I wanted to mention but could never find a good place for it, but there was random cuts in the episode, as well as Taurtis’ mic quality just going down the toilet before returning to normal. I mean, it’s fine I just found it weird. Tune in next week where hopefully I post twice instead of once.

[cepmurphy]

“I always think I’m rid of them. Never am.”– Resolution

S11 ends with It Takes You Away and then Resolution, and I will accept no arguments.

There’s a cliché that a Doctor isn’t truly one until they’ve fought the Daleks. They’re the one foe just as iconic as the Doc. They’re a British icon. They’re so cool, they could have 50% of their TV appearances be a bit crap and we still want them. They’re almost certainly what the BBC said “Chibnall, you HAVE to include them if we let you have all this freedom on the other episodes” about.

But how will they fit here, in the more grounded and less flashy S11?

Chibnall cannily takes the Russell T Davies approach: there’s just one Dalek, it’s loose on Earth, and we see how dangerous it is because that one single, solitary Dalek is pushing the Doctor to the brink. This will also start off moving the Christmas Specials to New Year’s, and it harkens back to the old RTD approach there again – this, a time of year when everyone’s got free time and families are vegging out together in front of the telly, so now’s the time for a crowd-pleasing thrill ride.

And what a ride! We’ve had runarounds and battles and the like before, but the budget is stretched as far as it will go here, a story of car chases down real highways and tanks trading fire with aliens and a climax in front of a supernova! This is a real battle, and not on Ranskoor Av Kolos!

There are parts where the plot doesn’t quite work and veers into the same now-it’s-3407-years-later stabs at being ‘epic scifi’ for the sake of it: the Order of Custodians are really a nothing thing with little explanation (how did the Custodians found it when they’re so far apart?), there’s a company buying up alien tech on the black market (WHAT?!) but they’re just to explain a Dalek gun (couldn’t it be from the dig?). The joke that with no power, families are forced to talk to each other is lame at the best of times but jars when it comes surrounded by scenes taking the Dalek’s threat entirely seriously. But unlike Battle or Tsuranda, the episode is charging ahead so fast and doing so much fun stuff that it’s easier to ignore.

Before the Dalek, because there’s a lot I want to talk about there, the humans.

Mitch and Lin, our meet-cute archaeologists, are very quickly sketched out as characters and a couple in their first minute, with Mitch needing clarification about a kiss particularly adorable. We care about her quickly, which makes the Dalek’s takeover of her all the more painful. (Though points deducted for how, at the end, she seems over being made to kill people! Points deducted too for Yaz never having a reaction to fellow Sheffield police being killed)

Ryan, Graham, and Aaron are, of course, the main human activity. After a series of build-up, Ryan’s dad is here and we can’t blame Graham for immediately going “no” and shutting the door on him, not after all we’ve heard. But Aaron is not what we’ve been led to expect: he’s not cold, he’s not unfeeling, he’s not abusive. (Or not intended to be seen as abusive, as there is a reading of him as emotionally abusive) What he is, is pathetic and needy and aware he’s pathetic, but unable to express things. He hopes he can just sidle back in, and he’s frustrated to find Ryan and Graham (who won’t even look at Aaron) have bonded, and angry he’s being treated like this.

But over the course of S11, Ryan has been getting better at expressing himself instead of bottling things up. Here’s where that ends: being able to tell his dad exactly how he feels. “Don’t come walking back in, demanding respect, because that ain’t where we are.” He’s able to express that his dad made him feel like he was unworthy of being loved; he’s able to express exactly what Aaron needs to do and say.

Aaron can’t express well. In the café scene, Aaron is bigging up the microwaves he helped make and he so clearly wants Ryan to be impressed, and is pained when he realises “I make it sound like a con. So maybe I’m not cut out for that.” When he finally admits his failings and weaknesses, it takes work, and Ryan is not sympathetic (and would you expect him to be?). Graham is the one who, despite all his contempt and anger for Aaron earlier in S11 and this very episode, is sympathetic enough to reach out to the man who he was once afraid would take his grandson away. He’s old enough to ask why Aaron didn’t come to Grace’s funeral for his own sake, to break down the last barrier – that Aaron was scared to accept the death.

While Aaron will go on to help stop the Dalek, the way S11 runs, the moment he breaks and admits “I wish I was better at life” and can express his failings so they can be fixed is the point where he can be redeemed. In S11, male characters have been repressed and needed to get past it to be better people, for their own sake and for others.

(Yaz, neatly, does not need that – her immediate response is to help Ryan, telling him that he and his dad can have a conversation in a very nearby café. Also the Doctor, the voice of the show’s moral code, the character who bluntly cuts to the chase for Aaron where others don’t: “You let him down.”)

And with humans done, the Dalek.

The Recon Dalek is one of the most formidable showings we’ve seen from the pepperpots in years. It’s cruel, it’s cunning, it has the highest on-screen bodycount of the entire series, it takes the Doctor’s entire team to stop it and then keeps coming anyway. It also gets a whole new bag of tricks we’ve not seen from a Dalek before, as now it can forcibly control another’s body and outgun a bloody tank. When it wipes out soldiers, smoke drifts over a battlefield like you’ve just watched a war drama.

And with the creature loose from its armour and possessing Lin half the time, we get a new reading on old cliché lines like “you are an enemy of the Daleks”. There’s a glee in it when it comes through a human mouth. ‘Lin’ smiles when she kills; the Dalek is enjoying this. This nastiness brings us back to the recurring horror beats of S11. The Dalek is scary again. (The massacre of GCHQ is a good example: nothing but distant, terrified screaming as SOMETHING comes your way. Also the clear pain Aaron’s in when the Dalek is jammed into his spine.)

But there’s more there. This is the Dalek equivalent of The Woman Who Fell To Earth.

The Dalek is completely unarmed and powerless and unaware where it is when it pops up in Sheffield, just like the Doctor was. The Dalek turns to the nearest people for aid, just as the Doctor did. The Dalek has to improvise with what’s around it to defeat a better-armed foe, just as she did. And just like the Doctor built her new sonic, the Dalek constructs its new shell out of scrap and welding. The Doctor is aware how the Dalek thinks, and it thinks a lot like she does.

As with last episode, the Doctor is using technobabble a lot more than she does in most of S11 – but this time, it’s barely working. Instead of being a handy resolution for a plot, it’s part of a battle of wits against a Dalek. Have a magic scanner? The Dalek can block it. Hack the city’s traffic cameras? The Dalek knew you would. Hack satellites? Not enough. Eventually what does stop it is practical engineering with the microwave, but even there, the Dalek adapts.

All of this, again, the sort of thing the Doctor does! The Dalek even ignores when the Doctor mocks its apparent weakness, just as she ignored Tim Shaw in her first go. Just as in Dalek, they’re two sides of the coin but unlike that story (or Inside The Dalek), it’s more that the Dalek would make a good Doctor. The Doctor wins, sure, but it’s a very close thing. How does she win in the end? As she did in Woman Who Fell, collaborating with a group of disparate people with something to offer. The Dalek, in the end, has no one but the Dalek, and that’s what beats it. One last thing: “I’m so sorry, UNIT operations have been suspended pending review… following financial disputes and subsequent funding withdrawal by the UK’s major international partners.” If you have to write UNIT out for a story, that’s a hilarious way to do it.  Nobody wanted to pay for defending Earth. That’s a political jab that’s not likely to age for a long time! ** Tomorrow, S12 starts. We’ve seen more monsters in the trailer than S11 had. There’s implications of an arc. S12 may be quite different from S11, it may go for a bigger scope and more monstrous foes that are monsters, and that can lead to good episodes. But S11 was something new – it was a version of the show where smaller stakes were still important, where practical work saved the day, where the alien could be benign and the humans the great threat. It stands as a model of another way you can do the show.

[fantasysamsclub]

Thought: Krav and Taako are on one of their many post story vacays and since they're actually quite relaxed, Taako has been burning spell slots like it's nothing. As a result, when the two get hassled by some baddies, he's defenseless for like the first time ever except for some shitty cantrips. This is how Taako gets to see Kravitz in full, pissed off, bard-turned-reaper mode for the second time ever and it's both hot and a little intimidating.

hey, anon? i accidentally wrote 2400 words of this. it went off the rails wildly. you know what you’ve done. this is going up on ao3 in a little bit, but first let’s just put this here

careful everyone, this one’s a bit mature. nothing adult happens, but there’s a lot of jokes about it!

So, here’s the thing. Taako?Not the type of guy to save his spell slots.

That would make him a Jenkins, andwho wants to be a Jenkins? No sir, no thank you. Taako’s the type of guy tothrow crab monsters via levitation at the Jenkins of the world. He’s not aboutto save his spell slots like they’re precious gems. Also? He’s level who the fuck cares after the apocalypseis all said and done, he’s got spell slots fordays. Which means he gets to take advantage of all the hella cool wizard powers twenty-four seven. Levitating groceries intohis house. Riding a magical binicorn to work every day. Using all manner ofdivination spells to magically telegraph dick pics into his boyfriend’s brainat work (he hadn’t had to do that in a while–photographs and texting were broughtover pretty shortly after he saved the world and opened communication betweentheir plane and the plane of Thought).

It’s not like he runs out of spell slots every day. Hekeeps a couple close to him just in case he gets the drop on him. But thatdoesn’t make him a Jenkins. It just makes him smart. The only time he runs hisspell slots dry is when he’s on vacation, because he knows impressive magicalfeats get Kravitz (you know, his boyfriend of ten years, the one he’s thinkingabout putting a ring on one of these days?)  hot under the collar, and of course he’s going to utilize that to its full potential onholidays.

They try to take a vacation once a year. They wrangle catsittersand clear out each other’s schedules for a week and a half. The Raven Queenmore than allows it. She loves that Kravitz has a social life now. Says hiswork is better now that he has something to fight for other than faith. Thisyear, they’re wandering all around, finding interesting geographical areas.It’s mostly an excuse to walk and have a good chat, something he actuallyenjoys with the guy. Crazy, right?

Kravitz deposits the two of them smack dab in the middleof a salt flat for a picnic. He’s been teasing at a surprise for a week and a half now, holding Taako’s hand just a bittighter every day. If he was going to spring some kind of surprise on Taako, hebetter do it here. Because, this place? Beautiful. Outstanding. Breathtaking. Theground reflects the sky, and it’s like walking on a big ass mirror. Or a hugegemstone. They’re both suddenly reminded that it’s been ten years since theyconfessed their love on a giant sapphire and saved the world, and Taako uses aspell slot to levitate the two of them while they’re kissing, and it’s just. Sogood.

He’s very liberal with his spell slots today.

‘Cause who’s going to attack them in the middle ofnowhere like this? Who even knows about this place? Taako sure didn’t. Kravitzjust whisked them both away with his goddess magic and for all Taako knew (orcared about) this was the (real) moon. So he uses magic to uncork the wine hebrought, and he uses magic to make shapes in the salt, and he definitely uses a spell slot or two tohop on Garyl with his man and ride off into the horizon.

And then they saw adragon.

A dragon made ofbones and brimstone.

He’s out of spell slots when this giant fuck-off dragoncomes along and ruins the oh-so perfect picnic spot with his hot-ass arm candy.Said arm candy presses two palms to his face, heaving out a groan. Of course work followed him here. He grumbles about plans andsurprises, kicks the salt at his feet like a child coming off of a tantrum. Taako’snot so sure why he’s this miffed, but, whatever. Dude always had a bit of atemper.

His attention was more on the dragon for now.

It hits him, as he watches the animated mass of bones andfire, that he miiiight have just usedhis last spell slot to conjure up that prismatic light show that reflected amoving scene from Paul Blart 3 into the salt flats.

And. Here’s the thing. Taako’s not defenseless, that would be silly. He’s an arcane engineer and onehell of an improviser, he can get him and his boyfriend out of this mess withhis god-awful cantrips and a little bit of elbow grease, right? He’s not a hugefan of hard work, but he’d rather do heavy lifting than dying, so. Elbow grease it is.

So he steps forward, places a hand on Kravitz’ shoulderand tells him to step back. Kravitz excitedly steps behind him, ready for ashow. The whole foundation of their relationship is built on the fact thatTaako bails Kravitz out when he’s in trouble. That’s how they met. He knows Kravitz thinks it’s hot,he’s taking advantage of that whenever he can. Taako has saved Kravitz’ niceass plenty of times, seen the stars in his eyes after executing a wellchanneled spell, reaped the many benefitsof showing off his power in front of his easily impressed man. It’speacocking, he knows, except a hell of a lot less creepy since he’s not a pickupartist and only doing it for his boyfriend’s benefit.

Also, the way Kravitz relaxes and shoots him a smile ashe watches Taako prepare his first spell takes away any concern Taako wouldhave about looking like an asshole.

But, as he goes over the list of cantrips he knows in hishead, and looks at the vast amount of nothingsurrounding him, no environment to manipulate with his shitty spells, Taakorealizes he’s in over his head. He could try blasting Ray of Frost at it abunch of times, but even though cantrips didn’t expend any slots, he couldstill get exhausted using them over and over again.

It takes one hit from the dragon for Taako to finally understandthe impossibility of the situation.

It also takes one hit from the dragon for Kravitz to launchhimself out of the spectator seat and into the action. This time, he’s the oneto place a hand on Taako, the one to tell him to step backwards with a cockywink and an overconfident smile. That dragon took about half of Taako’s hitpoints away in one swipe, so, yeah, he’sgonna step back, thank you very much.

Kravitz walks towards the dragon, sputtering insults upto its face. The dragon reels back with each one, and Taako remembers: right, he was a bard. Vicious mockery.He’s got about twenty different insults for this motherfucker and all of themare hand-tailored to the dragon like a fine suit. Kravitz is making these up onthe fly.

The closer he gets, the more magic Taako can see aroundhim. Magic distorts reality in a way that is visible to people who have a goodenough hold on it. Kravitz is bends the air around him and sends it flying inall directions, catching the dragon off guard and sending a gale of wind intoTaako. Blown away metaphorically and physically. Nice.

And then he gets out his scythe, and Taako can’t even process a nice dick joke to go alongwith that before he starts carving into this dragon. He knocks bones off thestructure in wide arcs. Taako would notice that the bones kept magicallyreforming onto the dragon if he wasn’t so enthralledby the performance. Kravitz wasn’t in his formal wear, just a nice tunic heput on for vacations like these, so there weren’t many layers in the way ofgiving Taako a show. His work uniformnever showed his arms exposed, and fuck, seeinghim work like that did things toTaako. That image would be appearing in his dreams and a few fantasies formonths. It didn’t look like Kravitz was winning, but he offered enough cockyjabs and overdramatic slices that Taako didn’t care.

But, eventually, even Kravitz could tell he was beat. He dispelledhis scythe and looked at the salt flats around him, taking a moment to think.Taako rose to the balls of his feet, worried. He didn’t have a moment to think, he needed to end this or call for help.

Kravitz’ body disappeared in a puff of black smoke,replaced by a softball-sized ball of white light. His soul. It pulsated in theair for a few moments before lowering down into the salt flats.

The rumbling beneath Taako’s feet made him grin from earto ear.

The salt on the ground moved upwards in a mass thatlooked vaguely humanoid. Just as big as the dragon. Bigger, even. Taako has abouta split second to admire the majesty of it all before it swings down on the dragonin one swift motion. The dragon and his boyfriend the salt monster duke it outfor an amount of time that feels too fast and too slow at the same time. Taakocould watch this forever. Sure, he’s usually the one doing the protecting outof the two of them. He’s the wizard that saved the world. But, damn, is it nice to get the same treatmentevery once in a while.

It takes a bit, but Kravitz manages to get the dragon’ssoul isolated. The bones fall to the ground and disintegrate into thin air. The sand shifts itself back into place and Kravitz’ souljumps out of it. He turns into a skeleton (also hot) and takes the dragon’ssoul in his hands.

Kravitz turns around and shouts off in Taako’s direction.“Is it okay if I go put this back real quick, babe?”

Taako grabs for the basket. “Yeah, I’ll set usup!”

“Don’t open the basket!” Kravitz stomps hisfoot into the sand and shrieks. “It’s a surprise!”

Taako rolls his eyes and sits his ass down in the salt.Realizes it’s probably a good thing Kravitz had to cut out and leave for aminute. He really enjoyed watching the show. Probably too much? Taako was aboutthis close to having to readjust hispants, 'cause that whole scene? That whole situation? The hottest hisboyfriend’s ever been, probably. Nice that hadn’t faded away after ten years ofdating the guy.

He thinks about it. Ten years. Eleven, if you count thechunk of time they dated before theapocalypse. They’ve been living together for nine of those years. Taako’s beenthinking about marriage for seven of those years, but just hasn’t–there wasn’ta good time to say it. Words are hard for him, okay? Cut him some slack.

Kravitz comes back, throwing Taako out of his thoughts,puts all his skin back on with his vacation wear. Taako launches himself ontothe dude, 'cause, again, that wasnice. Hot. A little intimidating? But in a hot way. Damn.

Taako says all that to Kravitz and he laughs, nuzzles hisnose into Taako’s hair. How can this asshole afford to be so cute when he justspent the better part of an hour taking down a fucking dragon?

“Now you know why I like watching you do it.” Hetakes Taako’s face in his hands and watches him with a look so sweet that it shouldbe banned by the Fantasy FDA for too much sugar content.

And. Okay. Listen. Listen.Taako might have had to hold himself back from pinning Kravitz up againstthe salt a couple seconds ago, but this? The way Kravitz is looking at him? Thelandscape around them? Fuck it. He’s ready to stop thinking about marrying Kravitz and actually do the damn thing. Hecan’t not marry him at this point.

Kravitz coughs, hands still on Taako’s face. “Hey,I–”

“Let’s get married.”

His boyfriend (hopefully fiancé, in a couple seconds, ifTaako didn’t royally screw this up) sputters out a barrage of laughter, botharms hugging Taako tight. Taako would be offended if he didn’t recognize thisas Kravitz’ fond laugh, but you spend ten years with a guy and you instantlyknow the difference between a malicious laugh and a loving one. It’s thatrecognition that forces Taako to do the same, giggling and tackling him in ahug, bringing him up close.

“I can’t believe you beat me to it,” Kravitzsays, eyes sparkling.

Taako sticks out his tongue teasingly. “Is that whatyou took me here for?”

“Yes.” Kravitz kisses him. “There’s a ringin the basket.”

“We can get to that in a minute.” Taakostraightens his back, pins his shoulders behind him, and frowns.“You,” he says, pointing an accusing finger at Kravitz, “did notanswer my question.”

“I thought it was obvious.” 

"I want to hear it.” 

"I would love to marry you,” he says, and itfills Taako’s heart so full it feels like it should burst. “If you’ll haveme.”

“If I’ll haveyou?” Taako snorts and blows a raspberry into Kravitz’ cheek.“Babe, you just–fuckin–that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.You–cocky motherfucker, just–going at that dragon. As a salt man.”

“It really should have seen that coming.”Kravitz gestures around the flats. “Go to a place like this and you’reguaranteed to be as-salt-ed.”

“Engagement redacted,” Taako says, unable tohide his smile, “stop that.”

Kravitz grins and leans in closer. “If you dislikethem so much, you can somersalt away.”

“Dumb! Horrible! Not even relevant!” Taakolaughs harder than he’d thought was possible, and then the hit from the dragonechoes in his torso. He starts coughing, and Kravitz fusses over him, handsgently roving over his abdomen, fingers finding the sharp marks from the dragon’sclaws.

“…Do you need to go regain your health?”

“Uh, probably.” He hangs onto Kravitz’shoulders for support. “Just, uh, a little woozy.”

“We’ll finish this picnic later. We need to get youhome.” Kravitz picks up the basket and summons his scythe. “I wouldn’twant to rub salt in the wound.”

Taako does kickhim in the shin for that one. “God, I can’t believe I’m engaged to you.”

“You asked for it,” he says, and takes themhome.

[kiruuuuu]

Smoke/Mute oneshot in which, as usual, utter chaos happens and I attempt an explanation as to where these pink Siege skins came from. (Rating M, crack + some sexiness going on, ~2.7k words) - written for @glockchen​ who asked me to write anything about these skins and I could never say no to you ♥♥♥

.

It starts with a simple drawing.

As it’s a perfectly normal morning in Hereford, the canteen, including the kitchen, is in complete and utter chaos: Caveira has followed through with her threat of disgustedly pouring what she calls bleached bullshit (also known as refined sugar) into Dokkaebi’s collar because the Korean woman forgot to buy ‘proper’ sugar, sparking a small war in their corner of the room, Blitz is currently burning the third batch of eggs and looking to his boyfriend for approval (and Rook reacts with a pained smile), and Bandit is surreptitiously trying to trip everyone walking past while pretending to be an angel in Montagne’s direction.

Mute and Smoke are sitting somewhere in the middle of all this, only half listening to Sledge’s tired mantra of they’re all adults they can clean up after themselves don’t get up let them make their own mistakes and learn.

“Gargle is such a typical, ugly English word”, Maestro muses and feeds the Scotsman a bite of his cheesecake because who needs breakfast food when there’s cake. “It’s onomatopoeic, agreed, but if the love of my life told me ‘I just gargled with maple syrup’ I wouldn’t care how sweet the kisses were because it’d be the same as if I proclaimed myself to be moist. Ugh.”

“I dunno, it can be pretty romantic”, Smoke shrugs and surreptitiously rolls his eyes at Mute – it’s clear why, the two lovebirds next to them are once again wholly lost in each other. “I sometimes gargle with Mark’s come and he never complains.”

Sledge chokes on the cheesecake and looks like he’s about to protest the mention of bodily fluids while he’s eating (and Mute gets ready to retaliate by pointing out the bright purple lovebites peeking over the Scot’s collar as well as the faint bruises on Maestro’s neck), when there’s a sudden, dramatic entrance. The door flies open and in strides Tachanka, head held high, stance proud and a fond smile on his lips.

Most of the ruckus dies down over the abrupt change in mood as the Russian makes a beeline for the fridge, carefully stepping over Bandit’s outstretched foot, avoiding the two flailing women and ignoring the sharp smell emanating from the stove. Now Mute notices the piece of paper in Tachanka's hand which he unfolds and then pins to the fridge door with a few magnets. From this distance, all Mute can see is a whole lot of pink.

Seeing as most pairs of eyes are glued to the old man by now, Tachanka grins and addresses the room with his booming voice: “If you ever ask yourself why the hell you’re still here – this is why.”

Curious, Mute leaves the quiet argument of what constitutes as revolting behind and joins the small crowd gathering around Tachanka, catching a better look of what seems to be a child’s drawing. It’s hard to make out at first as more than half of it is just a mix of different shades of pink, but eventually he identifies it as Tachanka himself holding what looks like a little girl, only his uniform has been recoloured from his usual olive and he’s displaying a horn as well as a mane and even a tail.

If he’s honest, it’s adorable. He knows the story, Glaz told it with a sheepish Tachanka modestly brushing him off but smiling appreciatively anyway: on their last mission, the old man heroically rescued a girl and made sure to carry her to safety and even reunite her with her parents. Judging by Tachanka's expression, it’s one of the most touching fan letters he’s received and he’s immensely proud, as he should be.

At least until Blackbeard steps up and snorts at the display. “Not at all your colour, I’m sorry to say, this looks like the gayest version of you”, he points out. “Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Says the guy with the man bun”, Pulse shoots back immediately.

“Is that bold-faced envy I hear? At least I have hair, Jack.”

“Yes. Too much of it. I’m just waiting for you to start stealing Sébastien’s plaid shirts.”

“I am comfortable enough in my masculinity to experiment with non-traditional looks, thank you very much. When’s the last time you changed anything about your appearance? I’ve seen your driver’s license. The only new thing about you are your wrinkles.”

Mute considers texting Smoke to stop demonstrating his ability to shove an entire piece of cake into his mouth and instead witness this rare American-on-American smackdown but forgets all about it when Tachanka, who’s been listening with a decidedly unimpressed scowl, chimes in: “You call yourself confident but mock this gift I got? Just because it’s pink?”

Belatedly, Blackbeard realises his mistake of potentially angering Tachanka of all people and tries to backtrack. “Well, I mean – only because you’d look silly wearing it. The picture is cute, but you in a pink uniform -”

“What’s wrong with a pink uniform?”

“It’s not really – it’s too visible, and you in pink is just laughable.”

“What’s wrong with me in a pink uniform?”

Mute is failing to suppress a grin by now. While Tachanka sounds perfectly calm and pleasant, Blackbeard is getting more and more flustered by the second. “It’s not a manly colour. You agree with me on that, right? You’d look stupid.”

“Pink used to be a boy’s colour, you know. A softer red, in a way. I think it’d suit you, it’d go with your hair.”

“I’d rather drop dead than be caught wearing something like this”, Blackbeard mutters and then wisely retreats before Tachanka's good mood dissolves into something else.

Amused, the Russian turns to Mute and mirrors his grin. “Confident in his masculinity, hm?”, he repeats doubtfully.

“We can actually make a pink uniform for you”, Mute suggests, causing Tachanka to perk up. “James has dyed clothes before.”

“Would you? I’m beginning to like the idea more and more. I can wear it during training and dazzle everyone.”

“I’ll even do you one better. Just wait a few days.” The two of them nod at each other and Mute returns to his table where Maestro is currently praising the soothing quality of green tea for an upset stomach. “James, I know what we’re going to do today”, he announces with a glint in his eye.

.

“Are you sure these are the correct measurements?”, Smoke complains for the nth time around the needles between his lips. Doubtfully, he holds up the patterned trousers and frowns at them, visibly dissatisfied. “They look too short, babe. They look like they’d fit me.”

Odd, isn’t it?, Mute thinks and bites his cheek until he trusts himself to reply without sounding highly entertained. “Those are definitely the correct measurements, I’m sure.”

“I bet you’re bloody grateful I can sew or else you’d still be watching Youtube tutorials.”

“I’m glad your mum made you fix the clothes you ripped on the daily, yes. Teaches you about the value of your time.”

“Teaches me not to buy expensive garb, more like. How’s your unicorn coming along?”

Mute takes a moment to inspect his work. After airbrushing one of Tachanka's helmets a lovely shade of pink, he started to add a few more personal touches he expects the Russian to enjoy: a pair of bear ears which Bandit owned – and no, Mute didn’t ask for details –, an actual unicorn horn he improvised out of a few available materials plus a mane made from faux fur which Frost generously donated once she caught wind of their project. He’s currently gluing letters onto the monstrosity since the rainbow he added for good measure has dried already. All in all, it’s solid work and he’s happy with it. If this doesn’t make Tachanka's teammates question some of what they thought they knew about him, then nothing will.

“See, I get why we’re making two of these abominations, babe, even if you haven’t told me the reason outright”, Smoke murmurs more to himself than directed at Mute, “but why three? Did anyone else want one? Are we gifting one to Dom? You know he’d wear it, especially with this sexy leopard print. Christ, we’re not giving the old man the leopard, are we? Because I’m sure he’d say something like ‘I have the underwear to match it’ and thank you, now we’ll need some brain bleach.”

“He’s not the only one I know who’d have matching knickers”, Mute states drily. “And Dom isn’t the only one I know who’d wear this.”

Smoke stops messing with the hem and throws him a deeply distrustful look. “Babe. Are you serious?”

“I have the perfect ears to go with it too.”

His quiet statement makes his lover’s brows rise. “They’re for me, aren’t they.” It’s not a question and so Mute doesn’t answer. “Really though – are you taking the piss or does the thought of me wearing this stuff actually turn you on?” Mute steadfastly refuses to respond and instead focuses on lining up the letters playfully. Maybe he could add glitter, yes, in any case he needs to not think about Smoke in a leopard print uniform, absolutely not squirming on his lap, the rappel harness flattering his thighs and soft mewls -

The rustling of clothes catches his attention and when he looks up, Smoke is half naked already. “What are you doing?”

“Trying it on, what does it look like? You want me to wear this, so I will.” He pulls on the finished pieces of his uniform and poses only partly jokingly. His arse looks amazing and Mute forgets how breathing works for a moment, resisting the urge to reach out and cop a feel because then they’ll never get it all done. “Bloody hell, this is tight.”

“Yeah”, Mute agrees distractedly and openly disregards the concept of eye contact entirely in favour of ogling other body parts, “like I said: definitely the correct measurements.”

Grinning, Smoke walks over to where he’s sitting and buries a hand in Mute’s hair to drag his head forward and smush his face into his exceedingly prominent bulge, ignoring the slight resistance and massaging Mute’s scalp once he’s started mouthing at the growing erection rubbing against his cheek. “Why don’t you get the ears, babe?”, Smoke hums and seems not at all perturbed by his unusual attire.

.

A few days later, Mute stands outside of Blackbeard's room, taking a deep breath and checking the time again. The American’s daily schedule is rigid and thus he’s been asleep for more than an hour at this point, not at all disturbed by the commotion outside of the base. They invited everyone interested, distributed beverages and promised a show, meaning there’s a sizeable crowd outside waiting for the main event to happen – whatever it’s supposed to entail.

Tachanka's uniform garnered a lot of approval, and Mute was especially proud to hear almost everyone complimenting his admittedly fabulous helmet, but the real treat hasn’t even surfaced yet.

Once he deems himself ready, he barges into the room and starts shaking Blackbeard awake rudely. “Get up, Jenson, come on, we need you, there’s a situation.” He does his best to appear urgent, and to his credit, Blackbeard is up on his feet before he’s even processed anything that’s going on. “Hostage taken in London, we need to fly out ASAP, get dressed and let’s go!”

He left the door open to let just enough light in for the American to not crash into his furniture as he stumbles about the room, getting dressed and mumbling something incoherent. Mute leaves him no time to think, talking rapidly out of his arse and ushering him out of the room and down the corridor. Blearily, Blackbeard allows himself to be manhandled and merely responds with a few grunts, but once they’re outside and in the middle of the sizeable gathering, he realises that something is off.

Being greeted with cheers, Blackbeard looks around in confusion until his gaze lands on Tachanka toasting him with a can of beer. “The fuck are you wearing?”, he asks and eyes the unicorn helmet in disbelief.

“The fuck are you wearing?”, Tachanka shoots back good-naturedly.

Finally, Blackbeard looks down at himself. He’s clad entirely in pink, mirroring the Russian perfectly. “What”, he says helplessly.

“I told you it’d go with your hair.”

And while the two start bickering immediately, with Blackbeard pompously proclaiming his intent to undress this instant and Tachanka amusedly egging him on, much to the audience’s delight, Mute feels a tug on his sleeve, turns around and mutters a curse under his breath. “I told you not to wear this outside”, he hisses and tries his best not to glance down at Smoke’s dangerously tight trousers.

He’s wearing the full outfit sans mask, and the cat ears which allegedly pick up on brain activity and move accordingly are perked up in excitement. Smoke was amazed by them the first time he put them on and refused to take them off for an entire evening – and admittedly, Mute’s heart melted a little every time Smoke looked over at him and the ears shot up instantly.

Right now, however, his heart isn’t the body part most touched by Smoke’s appearance.

“I’ve been a naughty kitty”, Smoke purrs and begins wrapping himself around the taller man, “you should punish me.”

And while the whole thing in itself has nothing erotic about it, it achieves the desired effect nonetheless as Mute is overcome by the sudden urge to stuff Smoke’s mouth.

Before he can act on it though, Bandit appears by their side, ignoring Blackbeard's repeated insistences that while pink is apparently a feminine colour, there’s nothing wrong with femininity, it’s just not for him (and Tachanka merely lets him talk with a partly disbelieving, partly entertained smile). “Have you seen Gilles? I don’t know where he is.”

“He said something like ‘I have one of these’ when he saw Chanka and then disappeared”, Smoke informs him helpfully and receives a concerned frown. “No idea what he was on about but he seemed excited.”

“Well, he better not be -”

Bandit trails off in horror and neglects to shut his mouth, so Mute and Smoke follow his line of sight while most of the noise around them dies down as well. It quickly becomes clear why: Montagne’s standing in the doorway to the base, wearing – well. What is he wearing?

Only on the second glance does Mute discern the butterfly pattern, noticing that it even continues over his balaclava, harmonises well with the hot pink helmet and – are those feelers?

Montagne catches sight of Smoke’s attire and nods approvingly. “That’s… a choice”, he states. “Maybe a little too racy but I don’t dislike it.”

“What do you think is going on here?”, Bandit addresses him weakly and looks torn between wanting the ground to swallow him whole and wanting the ground to swallow Montagne.

Now the Frenchman seems to be questioning himself, expression turning sheepish. “Isn’t this… these aren’t designs for breast cancer awareness? I thought -”

“See! That would be the only acceptable occasion for a man to ever wear pink!”, Blackbeard tells Tachanka triumphantly while pointing almost accusingly at Montagne, sparking yet another discussion now involving most of the people present.

“Does it look bad?”, Montagne wants to know sadly and only cheers up once Bandit has walked over to reassure him and started to play with his antennae – Mute can only imagine the amount of willpower it takes for Bandit not to make a thousand inappropriate and/or sarcastic jokes at once.

Not that he’s in a much better situation, seeing as Smoke is attempting to seductively meow in his direction. Sighing, he grabs Smoke’s wrist and drags him along. “You look hot but please never pretend to be a cat again. Promise me, James.”

“If I do, am I allowed to wear this on a mission?”

Smoke’s bright smile is going to be his doom one day, he knows this. He predicts quite a lot of arguing about the use of this particular outfit but can’t really say that he minds, not when they do most of their fighting in bed.

And maybe he’ll tell Smoke to put the mask on this time as well.

[doctortreklock]

Sign Here - September 11, 2019

Part of my Resolution19. Read it on AO3.

Prompt: "It would take me less than an hour to get at least several hundred signatures of people who think you’re sexy as hell." (”Overcoming Static” by msraven)

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Words: 1354

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Clint had never imagined dating Phil Coulson would be like this. Yeah, Coulson had been one of his best friends for the better part of a decade, and yes, he'd been in love with him for the better part of that, but even when he'd allowed himself to daydream about the mythical day when he might date Phil Coulson...it had never looked like this.

Phil slid neatly into the Avengers' communal kitchen one Tuesday morning, already crisp and put together and looking nothing like the sleep-ruffled man who had reluctantly peeled himself out of Clint's arms two hours earlier.

"Good morning," he greeted everyone, a thin stack of folders in his hands. "After your last collective attempt at destroying the Port of New York, the powers that be have determined that a little positive PR is in order." Groans from the whole room met his pronouncement. Phil ignored them.

"Stark, Rogers, you get the late-night circuit. Romanov, Vogue called, they'd like a six-page spread on women who save the world. Banner, I have a list of primary, secondary, and post-secondary schools that would like a moment of your time. Thor, People wants to talk, especially about Jane. Barton--" Phil turned to him last of all, a small smile lurking around his mouth "--TradArchers' World would like to talk with you about improvised archery equipment."

"Yes!" Clint's hiss of joy was drowned out by a sea of "C'mon, seriously, Agent? Why does he get the cushy spots?" and "If they ask me about my hair, I will stab someone" and "I look forward to the days I may spend telling the tales of my Lady Jane" and "Whatever you need, sir" and "If they're sure they want me, I'd love to see them."

Phil, naturally, gave no reaction to any of their comments, save his typical bland smile. Clint had noticed that his smiles reached his eyes much more often since he'd started working the Avengers and even more often now that he and Clint were together.

"I have a packet of information for each of your detailing each scheduled appearance," Phil told them. Stark was the first one to break, clutching his coffee thermos tightly and muttering something about oxidation as he tore the packet from Phil's fingers with a scowl. Steve was professional enough to cover up his disappointment with his lot in life when he took his packet, and Thor and Bruce were positively jovial about their assignments.

Natasha waited in front of Phil for a moment before taking the packet he extended to her. Clint wasn't in the right spot to actually see the conversation happening, but he knew the pair were exchanging a silent communication, probably about the level of lethality Nat was authorized for if make-up tips were mentioned.

Once Nat vanished without a trace, the room was empty of nosy neighbors and Clint was free to give Phil the very enthusiastic good morning he'd missed earlier.

"Did you seriously get me an interview with TradArcher?" Clint's excitement bubbled over as soon as they separated.

The thin smile lines around Phil's eyes crinkled deeper at his partner's enthusiasm. "It didn't take much. I barely had to mention your name before they were tripping over themselves with interview dates. Speaking of which," Phil trailed off, holding the last packet of papers higher. "This is for you."

"Thanks, babe," Clint said. "But can I pick that up later? I was going to go shooting with Kris this morning."

As quickly as they had appeared, the crinkles on the edges of Phil's eyes disappeared. "That'll be fine," he said. Agent Coulson wouldn't do anything as obvious as hold the papers up as a shield, but Clint could see Phil's fingers tighten on the folder.

Before Clint could say anything, Phil dropped a kiss on the corner of his mouth before slipping away and heading for the door. "I'll have these ready for you whenever you'd like to stop by." Then he was gone.

Clint spent a solid two minutes staring at where Phil had disappeared, trying to figure out what he'd said wrong. Then he belatedly remembered the morning they’d first gotten together, after one of Tony's parties where Phil had drunk himself almost under the table in defense of Clint’s sobriety. Phil had confessed his deep-seated insecurities, particularly where his age or the younger sniper Kris Henderson were concerned. They'd been working on it, but those sorts of anxieties didn't disappear overnight.

Clint also remembered his own response to Phil’s confession and abruptly changed his schedule for the day. He had something much more important to do than shoot targets with Kris or pick up a PR packet.

--

"Oi!" Clint yelled from his spot half-standing on a table, his hands cupped around his mouth for volume.

The SHIELD cafeteria fell silent. He could see agents glance at each other across tables and eye the exits. It was never a good thing when a Level 7 agent needed your attention. Hill and Sitwell were eyeing him suspiciously from their corner of the room.

Beside him, still sitting in his seat, Kris groaned softly and stuck his face in his hands. "I can't believe you're actually--"

"Show of hands," Clint shouted. "How many of you will attest that Senior Agent Phillip Coulson is sexy as hell?"

For a long moment, no one moved. Hill had gone back to her sandwich and Sitwell's shoulders were shaking with laughter. Slowly, Junior Agent Velazquez raised her hand.

Clint grinned.

A moment later, two other women raised their hands, then a couple guys from ops. Within a minute, over two-thirds of the cafeteria had a hand in the air.

"I think I'm going to need your help with this, Kris."

--

Phil buried his face in his hands, but Clint could still see the tips of his ears, which were bright red.

Clint's smile was fading now into concern. "Babe?" he questioned. "You okay?" Clint tentatively placed a hand on Phil's arm. This wasn't how he'd thought the two of them would end the day.

He'd thought that Phil would like the half-dozen sheets of paper he'd brought with hundreds of signatures on them. He'd thought the two of them could curl up together in bed and laugh at some of the comments left by the more intrepid agents. He'd hoped the list would be meaningful to Phil.

He hadn't anticipated Phil's complete and abject mortification, though.

"I'm sorry, Phil," Clint said miserably, rubbing his thumb reassuringly along Phil's arm. In hindsight, it was obvious. Phil was the kind of person who very strongly valued his privacy. The pages now scattered on the bedspread around them served as glaring reminders of his oversight.

Phil took a deep breath and lowered his hands to his knees. His face was still flushed, but the tell-tale scarlet was leaving his ears. "I can't believe you did that," he said softly.

"I know," Clint said, dropping his eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-- I'm sorry."

"No, no," Phil said quickly, grabbing one of Clint's hands and holding it tightly. "You misunderstand me, Clint. I'm sorry I made you feel like you had to do this. That wasn't my intent this morning. I just--" Phil's mouth twisted in self-deprecation.

Clint broke in before he could finish. "I wanted to." Phil's expression softened and Clint continued, the words bubbling out of him. "You're amazing, Phil. You're the most amazing person I know. You're smart and funny and kind and the best man I've ever met. You're also smoking hot," he added frankly. "And I work with a lot of very attractive people."

Clint had enough material to keep going all night, but Phil cut him off with a kiss before he could get that far.

"Thank you," Phil said quietly, the two of them still close together, breathing the same air.

"Anytime," Clint said breezily. "But Phil?" Phil hummed in acknowledgement. "Just because you've got this list of names now," Clint warned, a smile creeping into his voice. "Don't take that as permission. You're mine."

Phil laughed. "Yours," he confirmed with a smile.