#they used to say really awful things about and to me

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Actor

The Golden Age of Hollywood. Stars are born every day and you're desperate to become one. Thanks to @laboodanda for requesting this!

Yandere! Actor who's well established in the industry - his name on the Walk of Fame, his face on all the posters, his agents calling day and night with new offers.

Yandere! Actor who meets you on the set of his latest movie. You're barely even part of the main cast - just a side character with a few lines. But you sparkle.

You have that razzle dazzle in you that makes a true star.

Yandere! Actor who knows it's just a matter of time before you make it big. You've already got your foot in the door and all it takes is a lucky break.

Yandere! Actor who comes up to talk to you during lunch, winks at you and grins at the way you blush. You're in awe of him and it takes a second before you can answer his questions.

Yandere! Actor who's used to starstruck fans, to women who shriek when he looks their way. But, it's somehow new and endearing when you're the one looking at him like that.

He can hear the other extras rushing to your side when he leaves, babbling about how lucky you are that he talked to you, the big stars never notice the little fish.

On the final day of filming, he congratulates you on your first ever role and invites you to dinner to celebrate.

Yandere! Actor who takes you to a cozy restaurant in a quiet seaside neighbourhood. He doesn't want to be interrupted by fans, but he also doesn't want to be seen in public with you. At least not yet.

You really impress him. You know quite a lot about acting techniques, about getting into and maintaining character, about catering to the camera.

But it's clear you're still a rookie. There's a slight nervousness to you that veteran starletts don't have. It's alright - he'll train it out of you in no time.

Yandere! Actor who shares he milkshake with you and offers you his jacket when the sea wind starts to nip.

When he drops you off, he squeezes your thigh and says he'll talk to his agent about you, that there might be a role in his next movie for such a pretty little thing.

Yandere! Actor who sees the innocent, love struck look in your eyes and revels in it.

Pretty soon he calls you and tells you about a private audition with some studio execs.

"Keep your hair loose and wear that short sundress you wore on our date."

It should be friendly advice, so why does it sound like an order?

The audition is in one of the studio's offices. A room filled with big shot executives and egotistical directors. Men in suits who are high on their own power, their own genius. They've seen a thousand hopeful girls and to them you're no different.

The way they look at you makes you feel like dirt, like the most untalented person in the whole world. You would have walked out then and there if it wasn't for him.

Yandere! Actor who volunteers to read the lines with you. He winks and smiles at you and by just being there makes you feel so much better. And a few sentences in, you find your stride. Immerse yourself in the scene.

You're playing the part of a jilted lover, a woman who gave everything to her man and has her heart shattered when he leaves. In the final act, you grab his collar and look up at him with tears in your eyes, your voice shaking.

"Please, please don't go. I love you. I need you."

You raise one hand to his cheek, your fingers trembling. "Don't you love me too?"

Yandere! Actor who actually forgets his line.

You're looking up at him so weak, so vulnerable that his mind goes blank. His director calls out the line and he repeats it blankly.

"And...End scene!"

Yandere! Actor who doesn't look away from you even when the directors start clapping and you turn to give them a bow. You were so raw that it didn't feel like a performance. The tears, the desperate way you pulled at him... It felt so real.

It's only when his agent slaps him on the back that he manages to snap out of it.

The director is already grabbing your arm and insisting to the studio executives that he needs you in his next movie.

Yandere! Actor who comes up behind you and drapes his arms around your shoulders. You don't realise it but he's staking his claim, showing all these rich and powerful men that anything to do with you has to go through him. He grins at his agent.

"She's perfect, isn't she?"

The man lowers his shades and drags his eyes across your body.

"You need to clean up her look a little, but you were right. She's the perfect girl for you."

You feel like there's more behind their conversation, things they've discussed that you aren't privy to. But you don't have the nerve to ask.

On your way out of the studio, Yandere! Actor curls his arm around your waist.

"You're gonna be a lead actress soon baby. The execs want you in a few supporting roles first, just to get you used to the camera, but the director has his mind set on you."

You smile at him, a megawatt grin filled with the thrill of having your dream come true. It makes him feel like the centre of your world, makes him feel like a man.

You throw your arms around his neck and hug him. "I owe you! Thank you thank you thank you thank -"

He cuts you off with a kiss. And in that moment you really do feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Yandere! Actor who slowly takes over your beauty routine. Who tells your hairdresser exactly what shade to tint your hair, exactly what shape to thread your eyebrows. Who buys you new clothes and tells you exactly how to style them.

You don't realise it, but he's shaping your look into something that compliments his own.

Yandere! Actor who almost invites you to his movie premiere until his agent advises against it. Who kisses you and apologises and says he'll bring you to the next one.

You understand, you really do. You're still relatively unknown and having you on his arm would just invite gossip. But it still stings watching him go to the premier on his own, his arm around his beautiful co-star. You go to bed that night with doubts nagging at your mind.

It's only when you hear him knocking at your door at three in the morning that your insecurities go silent.

Yandere! Actor who's still wearing his tuxedo from the red carpet. His hair falling out of its slicked back style as he dangles a bottle of champagne in front of you.

"Gotta celebrate with my girl."

He's barely three steps into your apartment before he's kissing you, his hands on your waist and dropping lower.

You try and push him away. Tell him it's your first time.

Yandere! Actor who nips at your neck. "Don't worry, 'm gonna be so gentle."

When you still try and slip away, he pulls back to look in your eyes. Despite the haze of alcohol, there's something piercing about the way he looks at you.

"How many girls can say their first time was with a Hollywood star?"

Yandere! Actor who let's his fingers climb higher up your thighs.

"I've been workin' so hard to make you an actress. Don't I get a reward?"

How are you supposed to say no to a man who holds your future in his palm? You nod your head just the slightest and he's back to kissing you, back to drawing you hands to his belt, back to growling in your ear.

Yandere! Actor who's a shameless liar. He isn't gentle with you at all.

Yandere! Actor who wakes up all groggy and hungover the next morning. Who pulls you closer to him and falls asleep again with his head on your chest. You look down at his dark hair and his chiseled features and for a little while, it doesn't feel like such a bad deal. Love him in exchange for a career.

And he is so easy to love.

Yandere! Actor who encourages the director to start filming your movie as soon as possible. A romance between a thief (you, in your very first lead role) and a jaded detective with a heart of gold (him, who's had so many lead roles he's lost count).

The schedule is gruelling and the director is a tyrant, but this is your big break. You give it everything you have. You learn the script inside and out, badger the screen writer until she discusses your character arc with you, follow the director around and beg him for tips.

Yandere! Actor who adores working with you. You're sweet and pliable and the chemistry between you is sizzling. Every scene with you makes him need a cold shower and a priestly intervention.

Yandere! Actor who pulls you into his trailer every chance he gets to "read lines." But it always ends with him holding you down and kissing you, claiming it's good practice for the camera.

"Character building," he pants from between your legs. "Just getting into the mindset."

Yandere! Actor who watches with satisfaction as the movie comes along. You remind him of himself when he just started, raw talent and a burning desire to please.

Yandere! Actor who is next to you every moment he isn't needed on set. Who gives you endless advice and makes you laugh with his stories about bad takes and wardrobe malfunctions.

Part of it is to keep an eye on you - there's a jealous bit inside him that thinks of you as his creation, your talent a reflection of his training - and part of it is to spark rumours.

It works exactly as he intends. Pretty soon the magazines and radio hosts are blabbering about a possible romance between him and his relatively unknown co-star.

Yandere! Actor who's determined to make this movie a success. On the premier night, he walks down the red carpet with his arm around your waist. When the cameras are at the height of their flashing, he takes your chin in his hand and kisses you.

The next morning, the papers are raving about it and the theatres are sold out before midday.

It's a critical and commercial success. Yandere! Actor who's high on the thrill of it. Who loves driving down Hollywood Boulevard and seeing you on the billboards, who loves having Hollywood's newest darling on his arm and in his bed.

But then the letters start coming.

Yandere! Actor who snarls at the piles and piles of fan mail you receive. Maybe, if it was all innocent praise, he could have accepted it. But most of the letters are absolutely filthy.

Men writing to you from all over the country, all over the world. Describing in detail all the things they want to do to you, all the ways they want you speared on their cocks. Men who promise to treat you so sweet you'd never want to leave them and men who threaten to whip you over their knee if you don't learn to say please when they fuck you.

Yandere! Actor who's never received mail with such perversion. His fans are mostly sweet young girls who timidly describe how nice it would be to find a man like him, to get taken to prom and courted.

Yandere! Actor who becomes suspicious of every man he sees. The gaffer that looks at you too long becomes the guy who promised to find you and fill your cunt with his come. The driver who holds your hand when you climb out of the car becomes the stalker who followed you home the other night.

Yandere! Actor who keeps his arm around you whenever you're outside. Who starts keeping his gun in the glove box of his car.

It's not only strangers he needs to worry about either. The studio executives keep pressuring you with stricter and stricter contract offers. The director wants you starring in a romance role with another man. Two dozen talent agencies are crawling over glass to try and sign you.

Yandere! Actor who tells you to let him handle the contracts and paper work.

"The bastards will try and trick you out of your money and your clothes. Trust me baby, I've had to deal with plenty of shitty deals. I don't want that for you."

Yandere! Actor who knows exactly how tightly binding a contract is. And it's no coincidence that the one he has you sign binds your career almost entirely to his. It ensures that the bulk of your roles are alongside him, that he has the final say in studio disputes, that he owns the rights to your name.

The studio executives might normally never sign a deal like that, but they're desperate to get you under contract. You're a blazing star and they aren't going to lose you to a competitor.

Yandere! Actor who drinks a toast to your success and kisses you infront of all those high flying executives. Despite all the attention and awards you've earned, you still look up at him with a blind sort of hero worship. He's the goal you've always aimed for, the standard you've tried to reach. To be his girl is still so dizzying you almost can't believe it.

In bed that night, Yandere! Actor thinks about proposing, about wifing you up. The wedding would be huge, generate massive press. His next big project with you is scheduled for half a year away. Maybe do a proposal during opening night? Or better yet, at the Academy Awards? Yeah, that would get cinemas sold out even faster than kissing you on the red carpet did.

Save the wedding for a few years down the line. When your career is more established and your image might need an upgrade.

You curl against his side and moan in your sleep, brow scrunched. Cute, naive little thing, aren't you? Hollywood would swallow you up and spit you out if it wasn't for him.

Yandere! Actor who kisses your forehead as you dream about cameras and lights and action.

"Don't worry baby, I'll take extra good care of you."

Yandere! Actor who's curated his image so carefully. Who wants a girlfriend who's light and talent make him shine all the brighter.

And who better than someone who owes him her career?

Extra!! Here's a short drabble I wrote when I was brainstorming the idea with @laboodanda

[senipsenipsenip]

Eventually, the scrapbook ended. The sun had fallen beneath the horizon hours ago, and some nagging part of Stan's brain was telling him kids shouldn't be up this late. Unless they're breaking into a mini golf course. He jerked his head back, furrowing his brow. That was...oddly specific.

"Grunkle Stan?" a little voice - Mabel - questioned. He looked down at his knee to see where his great-niece was sitting, eyeing him with no small degree of concern. "Are you okay?"

He ruffled her hair. "'Course, Pumpkin. Just trying to shake some of those memories back in the right place, huh?" He gave an exaggerated shake of his head, smacking the side like he was trying to get water out his ears. "Got a straggler! Hup! There we go," he grinned, lowering his hand. "Good as new!"

Whatever he said must have been the right thing, because Mabel's eyes had lit up like he'd told her he was turning the Mystery Shack into a cotton candy emporium and Dipper had a sudden death grip on his other leg.

"Geez kid, you're clawing through my pants here," he grumbled, making no move to take away his nephew's hand. "Haven't you chewed your nails off by now? How're they so sharp?"

"You called me Pumpkin," Mabel whispered.

"You remembered I chew my nails," Dipper said in awe. Then he frowned. "Hey, how come Mabel gets a nice one and I get a gross one."

Stan shrugged. "'Cause she's nice, and you're gross."

"Ha! Zoom!" Mabel pumped a fist in the air before collapsing back into Stan's lap in a fit of giggles. Dipper rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he settled back against Stan's other side. Ford stayed perched on the arm of the chair, smiling fondly, but eyebrows still drawn together.

"What's the matter, Sixer?" Stan frowned as Ford grimaced at the nickname. "What?"

Ford waved off Stan's concern. "It's nothing. It's..." Ford sighed. "I'm sorry. It's not nothing. I just don't want to..." He pursed his lips.

"Don't leave us hanging." There was a shake in Stan's voice, and Mabel shifted closer to her Grunkle.

"I'm glad this has been helpful to you," Ford muttered. "But...you don't remember everything. Not really."

"Whaddya mean?" Stan asked. "I remember you, the kids, Soos. The freeloading jerk who steals my sandwiches." Stan glared at Waddles who simply oinked and started trying to eat his shoelace. Whatever. Free pass for jump starting his memories. He better not get used to it.

Dipper sat up. "Yeah, what do you mean, Great Uncle Ford?"

Ford frowned. "I just... Hm." He seemed to be weighing something in his mind before turning to Stan with some resolve.

"Stanley," he began slowly. "I hope you appreciate what I'm about to do for you."

"That's not terrifyingly ominous," Stan muttered, glancing around at the available exits.

"Do you remember my - " Ford cleared his throat. "My first kiss?"

Stan froze. "What?"

"My first kiss, do you remember it?"

"I was there?"

"Yes. Unfortunately a lot of people were."

Mabel squealed beside Stan. "Ooo! Romance memories! How old were you? Was it high school? Was it a high school romance? Was it star-crossed love between the nerd and the cheerleader?"

"Mabel, I think Grunkle Stan is supposed to figure that stuff out."

Mabel sat up and stared at Stan expectantly. "Come on Grunkle Stan! I need details!"

Stan shook his head, nose wrinkling like he'd smelled something rotting. "How should I know? Who asks their brother that sort of thing?"

"Precisely." Ford spoke with the same air of professionalism he adopted when explaining his theories, despite the alarming shade of red his face was becoming. "So far it seems that your memories are returning based on external stimuli, whether that be Mabel's scrapbook or our own prompting."

"So, wait, you're saying I won't get all my memories back?"

"No! No that's not what I'm saying," Ford held up his hands. "What I'm saying is we can't expect them all to come back at once. And at the risk of turning the Shack into the set of the Johnny Carson show, we'll keep asking you questions."

Stan frowned. "What if I don't wanna remember my brother smooching some babe?"

Ford turned redder. "You do."

"I do? Geez, I was a perv."

"In the meantime," Ford pressed. "It's important to take note of any stimulus you experience that makes you remember something. Even if it doesn't paint the whole picture for you, we can fill in the blanks. Or prompt you to remember more details."

Dipper grinned. "And then we get to learn more about the secrets you've been hiding, old man."

Stan lifted his hand to give Dipper a well-earned noogie, but paused before he could make contact. "Old man...did you...did you tell me to shut up one time and then punched me?"

Dipper balked. "What? No I - "

"YEAH no WAY that'd be CRAZY!" Mabel interjected a bit too loudly. "Anyway let's get back to that kissing story, huh?"

"Actually Mabel, I don't know if I want to hear about Great Uncle Ford kissing anybody either."

"Oh come on, Dipper. Are you jealous that The Author got someone to kiss him and you didn't?"

"What? No!"

"Some girls like nerds."

"Mabel I don't want to think about anybody in this room kissing anybody."

"You could learn from him Dipper! Figure out how to wield your nerdish charms. Soon you'll be like a kissing machine!"

"MABEL -"

The twins were silenced by a sudden gasp from Stan. His eyes were wide and unfocused, his jaw hanging open as if someone had knocked the wind out of him.

"Holy - " he choked out softly.

"Grunkle Stan?" Dipper sat up fully. "Are you okay?"

Stan didn't acknowledge him, eyes darting around minutely.

"Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked softly. "Did you remember something?" Moisture had begun to gather in the corners of Stan's eyes, one of his hands covering his mouth as he began to shake.

"Great Uncle Ford?" Dipper turned to Ford, worry stitching his brows together. But Ford didn't look worried. If anything, he looked like he wanted to disappear through the floor. His face was an alarming shade of red, nearly identical to his sweater. Stan let out another choked sound.

"Are you..." Mabel trailed off. "Grunkle Stan are you laughing?" He was quaking now, his hand falling from his mouth to reveal a wide, open-mouthed smile. He began slapping the arm rest with his free hand, eyes squeezed shut and tears rolling down his cheeks. Dipper and Mabel shared a look. Sure, they'd seen Stan laugh before, but it was usually a loud guffawing thing. They'd never seen him like this. They shared a tentative smile. Either this was the hardest they'd seen him laugh, or he had really snapped.

Ford seemed to pick up on their worry. "He's fine," Ford offered. "He's just...remembering my first kiss." At Ford's words, Stan let out a loud cackle, burying his face in his hands.

Mabel cocked her head. "But what's so funny about -"

"You children must be exhausted," Ford blurted out, standing abruptly. "Come now, go wash up then head to bed!"

"Oh no you don't!" Stan shouted. He wiped tears from his eyes, still smiling. "You're not getting out of this one, pal!"

"Stanley, this conversation is hardly appropriate for children -"

"You brought it up!"

"And now I'm putting a stop to it."

Stan grabbed his head. "Ooooo ow," he gave an exaggerated groan. "My poor head. The mean man won't let me share my memories so they're all going away!"

"Stanley, please don't joke about that."

"I'm fading away - "

"Stanley."

Stan crossed his arms. "You know, you really know how to take the fun out of amnesia."

"Yeah! Come on Grunkle Ford," Mabel pouted. "You can't just leave us hanging!"

"Yeah!" Dipper joined in. "If it's a funny story I want to hear it."

Ford spluttered, pulling at the sleeves of his sweater and looking around for an exit.

"Come on, Sixer," Stan chimed in. His eyes had gone soft around the edges. "I think the kids deserve a funny story."

After today went unspoken. Ford met Stanley's gaze, already feeling his resolve melting before he even turned to his grand-niece and nephew's inquisitive smiles.

"Alright," Ford conceded. "But to maintain the integrity of the exercise, Stanley will be the one to tell it. Whatever he doesn't remember, I can fill in."

Stan rubbed his hands together. "Oh boy, this'll be good."

"I regret this already."

"It's alright Great Uncle Ford," Dipper patted his shoulder. "We have a whole summer's worth of stuff we get to make fun of Grunkle Stan for. This just gives us stuff to use against you now. Levels the playing field."

Ford frowned. "Is that meant to be comforting?"

Dipper shrugged.

"Alright you two, enough yapping." Stan grinned, leaning forward in his seat and spreading his hands out in front of him. It was the same way he started his campfire tales. Mabel and Dipper met each other's eyes and smiled.

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl named Kiss-Bot..."

[thepitlanepress]

WHAT ARE YOU DOING? –

↳ max verstappen + gf!mom!reader

⌗ :: masterlist

⌗ :: a/n: since i have the emotional and mental stamina and strength of a decaying cabbage rn this idea has graciously been given to me by my other half @arqbella so big thanks to her for this <3 this is also a short one bc as stated earlier decaying cabbage

"liefje?" max's calls out from the kitchen.

he usually expects an answer within the range of three to forty seconds. if you're super distracted a minute tops. you've alway had this thing- no matter what, whenever max calls you, you somehow hear him every time.

he thinks you also just like it when he calls you liefje or any nickname in dutch. your favorite is liefje though, as you've told him oh so many times.

because who wouldn't want to be called liefje by max verstappen are the exact words you use.

so when you don't answer him for a solid five minutes, he goes searching. he's hopeless at this recipe and needs your expertise before he blows the kitchen up.

"liefje?" max calls out again, still no answer. you must be upstairs somewhere with the baby then.

when he reaches the second floor he calls out your name again, but still no answer.

what is going on?

and being the dedicated boyfriend that he is, he gives up on his search and starts to return to the kitchen hoping things didn't explode in the kitchen while he was gone. surely he can work out how follow the instructions and have a perfect little surprise for you when you come down stairs.

just when he reaches the top step he hears your voice. its higher pitched and it sounds like you're mumbling nonsense so you must be talking to the baby.

whenever he stumbles in on you with the baby you always seems to be singing, or talking, or even gossiping to your little girl, who stares back at you with wide eyes - and an adorable face.

he decides the kitchen will be safe without him - what a mistake that was - and follows the two of his favorite sounds in the world. your voice and your baby's laugh.

he gently pushes the door open and leans on the door frame as he- what are you singing?

"du du du du max verstappen," you coo to the little bundle in you arms. "du du du du max verstappen!" you bounce about causing a little laugh to erupt out of your daughter.

"what are you doing, liefje?" max asks a mix between a smile and a frown on his face.

"i'm singing our daughter a song that i like," is all you supply.

"really because it sounds awful lot like the song that i don't like."

"i'm educating our child on how her papa is a famous f1 driver."

"i think the excessive amount of f1 things in this room will do- its practically a shrine, liefje."

"i happen to like it," you huff at max and smile at your daughter. "and so does she, look at her face, see? she loves it."

"i think she loves the fact that her mama is singing and dancing with her," he points out he says pushing off the doorframe and coming to stand beside you and look over you shoulder at the little girl in your arms.

you both stand there for a mometn just savouring the little peace and memory that you'll most likely keep for a long while.

well that was until, "du du du du max verstappen."

"really?"

[deeplyshalllow]

Glinda gets what she deserves at the end of Wicked

I don’t necessarily mean this in an all negative light either, Glinda’s ending is bittersweet – sad, but hopeful. But she does not deserve an all out happy ending at the end of the musical.

I don’t know if I’m gonna be crucified for this, but here goes.

Glinda in Act 2 is a key part of a fascist regime. She doesn’t just live in it, she isn’t forced to take part in it and she’s not working as a double agent (like Fiyero). She knows what they are doing to the Animals (which includes separating infants from their mothers and putting them in cages, and making Animals so afraid they literally forget how to speak), she knows and loves people it is hurting and yet she continues to actively promote it.

(I won’t point out the connections to real world situations, but I’m sure you guys can all think of examples and think of how you feel about people who are active participants in helping such regimes.)

We see she knows all this too. We see she excuses it for her ego and the power:

Glinda: Do you think I like to hear them say those awful things about her? I hate it!

Fiyero: Then what are we doing here? Let's go, let's get out of here!

Glinda: We can't leave now, not when people are looking to us to raise their spirits.

Fiyero: You can't leave, because you can't resist this. And that is the truth.

Glinda: Maybe I can't. Is that so wrong? Who could?

Elphaba: No, of course you never! You're too busy telling everyone how wonderful everything is!

Glinda: I'm a public figure, now. People expect me to...

Elphaba: Lie?

Glinda: Be encouraging!

And if one could possibly argue (weakly) that, given she’s not actually doing any of the regime’s actual violence, just keeping people’s hopes up she’s not as bad as those who are, she gets worse:

Morrible: Well, we'll just flush her out and force her to show herself.

Wizard: But how?

Glinda: Her sister

Morrible: What? What did she say?

Glinda: Use her sister. Spread a rumour. Make her think her sister is in trouble and she will fly to her side... and you'll have her.

Even if one argues that Glinda is somehow not clever enough to realise that they’ll end up killing Nessa, she sure as hell knows it will get Elphaba captured. And there’s no way that Elphaba being captured won’t lead to the execution of her best friend. Yes, she’s heartbroken, yes, she might not have said this when emotions weren’t running high, but it doesn’t make her terrible words less deadly (and bear in mind Elphaba hadn’t even done anything to hurt Glinda! It was Fiyero who chose to go with her).

Glinda only really starts realising what she has done in March of the Witch hunters, when Nessa is dead, Fiyero is tortured and presumed dead and Elphaba has descended into madness – all because of her own action. And, kudos to her, this is when she decides to change, she immediately goes to Elphaba and tries to warn her about the Witch Hunters, apologises and ultimately Elphaba trusts her with the Grimmorie and to continue her legacy (which she immediately does by overthrowing the Wizard). She has started down the track to good but she still has a long way to go.

I am not the first, nor will I be the last to point this out but “Goodness knows the wicked’s lives are lonely, goodness knows the wicked die alone”, sung by Glinda,is clearly not about Elphaba. Elphaba was not wicked, nor did she die alone (literally Dorothy was in the room and metaphorically Glinda supported and loved her). Glinda is singing about herself, Glinda knows she has been wicked, Glinda knows that it is her own actions that have lead to the “death” of her friends.

So what Glinda is left with is a chance to do good. A chance to live up to her name and make up for what she’s done. A chance to use what she’s most talented at, making people like her, to continue the legacy of her best friend. Despite everything, Elphaba does trust her, if she didn’t she wouldn’t have left her with this responsibility.

Glinda: Fellow Ozians, friends, we have been through a frightening time. There will be other times and other things that frighten us. But if you let me, I'd like to try to help. I'd like to try to be... Glinda the Good.

This is why she is going to “try” to be Glinda the Good, because she hasn’t been good yet. She has learnt a lot of very hard lessons through the narrative, been dragged kicking and screaming out of her selfishness, ego and giving into her worst impulses and is grateful for a chance to repent. And honestly, I’m sure she will suceed.

And one last thing:

Elphaba: I only wish...

Fiyero: What?

Elphaba: Glinda could know that we're alive.

Fiyero: She can't know, not if we want to be safe. No one can ever know.

I know a lot of people take ire with this line. But Fiyero, always the best strategist of the group, is right. The last time Glinda was trusted with important information it led to a death and two more people nearly dying. She has not earned that trust yet.

But, remember, Glinda isn’t stupid, Glinda is in a position where she’s going to have to think more and more. Glinda has presumably seen her roommate get wet before, she saw Fiyero’s reaction to the rumour, no matter how much searching happens Fiyero’s body never turns up, how long is it really going to take for her to connect the dots? Sure “Glinda can never know” for sure, but she sure as hell can be comforted by the fact she’s almost certain her best friend did not melt from a bucket of water.

[kisakunt]

THE RICH MAN’S GUIDE TO CORRUPTION

GIVE IT UP FOR LOVE

warnings… i mean some absolute swine talk, gojo and geto are evil men, you’re a sweet and pure virgin. swearing, mentions of fucking, really just vile pig shit.

synopsis… suguru and satoru have a lovely chat over a warm summers breeze. oh! and sweet, un-expecting, vulnerable you is the topic of discussion.

a word from the creator… idk if i mentioned this but this fic is based loosely off the movie cruel intentions! banger film, check it out. i wrote a lot of this chapter awhile ago so if the writing style switches up next chapter don’t sue me. i’m excited!!!! here’s to the next eleven chapters of hell

series masterlist

Gojo hates the heat. He thinks he's tolerated it before on his father’s yacht or when he did an unnecessary shirtless carwash for extra money he didn't need; but right now with the breeze through the window— that Suguru demanded be open— overbearing the air conditioner, he's absolutely positive that summer is the worst.

“Start of the year’s comin’, yknow.” He typically broke the silence— as if he could ever shut up to begin with— and he was almost always met with a:

“No shit.” strident response. Those seemed to be Suguru’s speciality, and provoking them seemed to be Satoru’s.

It’s too hot. His white hair presses into the drywall, feeling much cooler than the air outside. “I’m not stupid, Suguru. Neither are you, you know what I mean.” It’s an overdramatic sigh— a call for attention— as he turns his head over to look at him.

“They’re gonna ask us about it soon.” And, in some way Suguru can’t really comprehend, Gojo sounds excited.

His manner isn’t necessarily wrong, not so much as it is unexpected. The ‘new year, new fuck’ competition of Azabu was practically famous among the young men certain to attend— the sons of the sons who started it, and all their nephews or cousins or any synonym for a pig of a relative that they could come up with. And, luckily enough, they had the privilege to be top candidates.

The competition was started by the current dean’s uncle, a horny fuck-all type who would take any and all excuse to boost his ego while tearing down a girls— or maybe he really did just want a good lay. But, it grew and grew and grew, and now it was almost ritualistic, a second identity of worthiness in the form of fucking a virgin before anyone else did.

Sure, they were nothing but thrilled for it as high school reached an end, or even the first or second year of university. But now it just seemed dull.

But, traditions are custom, and customs are a necessity. It’s almost become lore throughout their little clique of affluence; whispered stories from childhood turned into real competition after a long wait, especially from a group of people who so rarely have to wait for anything. It’s inspiring, they think, means to associate themselves with a lower class; normalize themselves just a little more.

Alumni share stories at functions, putting the frat in fraternizing, nonchalance on the tips of their tongues. Sometimes the tone almost feels dark, and Suguru thinks if he were a better person he’d feel some type of sympathy for the girls. Any fragment of empathy he had wiped away when he won for the first time, though, wide smirk as his year mates glared at him; memories of the tight, albeit idiotic, girl engrained behind the lids of his eyes.

Even so, it gets old quick. And it’s not like they don’t fuck dumb, stupid, silly girls with nothing to say for the rest of the year anyway. So, he can’t quite figure out what Gojo is all too excited about.

“Well try to make sure your dick doesn’t get hard from the thought, you fucking freak.” There’s a giggle from the other man, a scoff too, and he pushes his hand out at him.

This is crucial. This is who they are together. A pair— whether it’s a pair of awful men or not.

There’s also a sense of trepidation that comes with it, of course. It’s exclusive, more so than they already are, and if you do one thing wrong- speak a little too loud, come off too brash, give a lackluster lie after actually getting caught— you’re out. And whose pride would want that?

“It’s stupid we always gotta wait for them to sit us down, it’s not like we don’t know what’s coming up.” He scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “Plus, what a fucking weird thing to say to your kid.”

“I mean the whole thing’s odd if you think about it.” Gojo shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets, forearms bare against the linen of his trousers.

He’s right, of course. Even if neither of them feel guilt for their actions, they can’t ignore the sinking feeling in their stomach when their own fathers sit them down and incite such a twisted view on them.

Be that as it may, it’s not too bad when that’s all they know, and it’s not like either of them are going to complain at a quick orgasm, a nice pair of tits, and that goddamn feeling of triumph.

“Do you think they’ll cry again?” Satoru mocks, brimming with glee as he leans in the direction of his friend. “It’s always funny, dontcha think?”

“As if you’d know,” There’s a smirk despite the aggression in his tone. “Dunno why it matters so much to you, you already got bitches babbling about you all the time.”

Gojo sighs, expression bored and childish and fucking greedy. “Yeah, I know but…” His voice peters out, lost in the room. Elation bubbles back into his features, warming his cheeks and animating his eyes as he looks at Suguru.

“Yknow, I heard the dean has a daughter starting, actually. Real sweet gal, even wrote a whole fucking magazine article about the importance of ‘saving your innocence’” his voice wobbles, eyes rolling as he sneers. “for someone you really love.”

“Sounds like she’s ugly.”

“Thought so, too, but..” He trails off, hand fishing in his back pocket for his phone, pupils dilating at the light on his screen. It doesn’t take him long to find the photo; clearly he’s been sitting on his discovery for awhile, anticipating when he could tell him. “Look.”

Suguru doesn’t like to be wrong, much less will he ever admit it. “Holy shit.” You aren’t necessarily the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, probably not even the prettiest he’s seen in the last month, but you were definitely something.

Maybe it was the curve of your jaw or the tint in your lips, but the photo set something off in him. On the surface he thinks it’s the just barely explicit face you’re making in your mirror, phone in hand as you look into your lens, but really, honestly, if he’s searching deep down— it’s the fact he knows you’re the one girl who wouldn’t just throw herself on him if he so kindly asked.

“Sugu, are you ever bored of this? It feels too easy, right?” Suddenly Gojo’s previous excitement feels misplaced, voice itching for more. “Hardest part about it is finding out who’s actually a virgin or not, and that’s pretty simple with how awkward they get.”

“What are you saying?” Maybe he already knows, maybe he’s hoping for the obvious, but he asks like he doesn’t care. The former moves fast, hand steady on the desk as he leans far too close for comfort. In any other situation, he’d probably be met with a harsh jab to the face, but this feels different— secret.

“Let’s do something, on our own, just you and me.” He almost seems too impatient, pressure digging into the ground from the toes of his shoes and gaze begging. It was the kind of thing that made you want to agree, if nothing else to just feel a fraction of the way he seemed to be. Before Suguru could even consider the idea, test the waters and make Gojo beg a little bit, said boy opened his mouth again.

“I mean, unless you’re not up for it. You don’t really seem like the type to make a girl give it up for love.” He snickers, raising the back of his hand to his forehead as he feigns swooning.

“Geto, I— I love you.” His voice is high, wheezy in his imitation and a little rude. “I think.. I think I’m ready- I want it to be you.” He cuts himself off with his own laugh, hand circling over his mouth to try to stifle himself. “Could you imagine?”

“The fuck does that mean?!”

“Cmon, Suguru, you’re not really the endearing type.” He’s edging him now, tone manipulative and pressing and snarky and Suguru knows— of course he knows, but it can’t help but irk him.

“What are you thinking?” And now Gojo’s beaming again, feet guiding him back across the room to his bag, books stacked neatly inside, lying even against each other. He pulls out a magazine and tosses it to him haphazardly before he reaches back for a notebook and a pen.

“Page 36, read it.” The article is cheesy. It’s too long and feels like something right off a self care Facebook page. Suguru is sure he physically recoiled a couple times reading it; especially when you wrote ‘Virginity is a miracle— the ability to show someone how much you love them in such an intimate way should be saved for someone special.’.

It’s shocking that you’re the daughter of the man who oversees their little sex game.

Suguru thinks you’re vile— embarrassing and pathetic and a huge fucking waste of what seems like a really good pair of blowjob eyes. It makes his skin crawl and he verbally scoffs when he reads your finishing sentence about cherishing your virtues, so focused on the arrogance in your punctuation that he doesn’t even hear Gojo’s laugh.

“Pretentious as shit, right?” He snorts, eyes flickered as he recites the passage in his head. “It’s gonna feel so good to fuck the words right out of her mouth.” Suguru didn’t know what he expected from his friend, but it wasn’t that. It’s clear through, through and through, that he’s dedicated to the idea.

“I mean sure, I guess you’ll have your turn. Maybe she’ll fuck just about anyone after I win.”

“Wait, so you’re in?”

“Whatever.”

“Fuck yeah!” He’s joyful, fist pumping into his chest in a quick celebration before he’s holding up his notebook, standing directly across the floor from the desk.

The wood is dark, deep and marbled, glazed over the top and lined with little symbols of power in the form of trophies. It’s clearly something too nice to serve as a welcome mat, but nonetheless Suguru rests his heels on the surface, ankles crossed over each other as he leans back in his chair. His eyes point to the ceiling to look at anything other than the annoyance in front of him.

“Well clearly we need to set up some rules.” He sneers in his seat when he remembers not looking at him won’t make him shut up.

“Okay well we have the obvious: whoever fucks first wins. And I mean fucks, none of that sloppy anal shit. Doesn’t count.” It’s almost funny, but neither of them acknowledge it. If they do, that’ll come hand in hand with the fact they’re acting just like their fathers.

“She has to be sober.” He didn’t really expect himself to say that, but he did expect Satoru to whine.

Gojo lets it sit in the air for a second before he nods curtly and jots something done.

“Would it be too cocky to say she has to cum?” The journal’s away from his face now and someone could, and probably would, argue that the walls are lucky to see the boyish grin he’s got. His smirk pulls up at the corners of his lips, but Suguru just finds it vexing. Gojo is far too full of himself, he thinks, and he hates to admit there’s good reason.

Nonetheless, he has to give him a little shit. “Do they normally not with you?”

“Hey! That’s not what I meant, asshole.” There’s something sweet to Satoru, under all the sickening that is his personality. It makes people understand just why girls fall for him, and definitely helps him keep a good image to the public.

And there’s something smart to him that makes you feel like he could really pull whatever he wanted off. It makes the idea of competing with just him much more appealing.

“Are we gonna have like a— fuck I don’t know— like a time limit?”

“Fuck is this? A video game?”

“I mean no, but competition wise if it takes us like half a year isn’t that kind of stupid? Because who’s to say she won’t ‘really love you’ by then, and then you’re not making her go against anything, yknow?” And there's also something meticulous about him that makes him aggravating as all hell.

“Fine. A month.”

“Just a month?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Plus, anything longer than that and we’d just be a couple of fucking losers chasing after a bitch.” Suguru knows Gojo is giving him a look without even seeing it, the slightly judgmental and almost kind one he does. “What? You’re the one who said it to begin with.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. A month.” It’s silent for a second, comfortable with all their years of each other, before he clears his throat.

“That it then?” Maybe they’re the same kind of evil. Maybe they deserve each other.

“One more, actually.” There’s that feeling from him again, the tone that makes Suguru want to agree aimlessly for no fucking reason other than the possible rush. And before he can fester; before his skin can start to crawl and his hands can get clammy just from that sheer desire in his voice, Gojo grins.

“You need proof. And I don’t mean her saying it, because you can bribe anyone into saying anything. Gotta show it, photo or video or something, balls deep or whatever the fuck.” That almost makes Suguru laugh.

“I don’t think she’s gonna go for that one, no matter how good the dick is.”

“She doesn’t have to know.” Now he’s really thrilled. He doesn’t know what it is, but that lights something in him, stirs in his stomach and causes a little quiver in his brow.

“Fuck yeah, man,” he’s really laughing now, pointing at the journal harshly. “write that shit down.”

There’s something unspoken over them now, a deeper bond than they thought they could have. Neither of them would ever admit it, but it feels like they’re those two high schoolers again, counting down til they can become something fucking great. This is the feeling they’re supposed to get from their fathers’ stupid fucking contest. This is actual competition, a chance to actually win.

A new air falls on them, mixed back in with that warm, rich breeze.

“Okay, that settles that then.” Gojo offers, fingers tapping the binding of his book. “She has to be attending the start of the year banquet so that’ll be an excuse to meet her. Everything from then on is up to us.” Suguru always dreaded that shitty event, but now he finds himself doing mental math to count how far away it is.

Even if the whole thing is trivial, and even if you seem like the most uptight thing ever, Suguru is a man of pride. And prideful he’ll be.

“We still gotta do the ‘new year’ thing, you know. They’ll burst a fucking artery if we say we’re not interested.” His voice is gravelly and calm and so not anything he’s feeling, but he thinks Gojo buys it when he chuckles.

“Can you be excommunicated from being a womanizer? Because I think we would be.” They’re almost joking like everything is normal. It’s different, so much different, but they’re acting the same.

“I’m gonna go grab some water and maybe call one of your maids to make lunch, you want anything?” Suguru shakes his head, shifting in his seat as he tries his hardest not to look at the journal Satoru set on the side table.

“Suit yourself, I’ll be back.”

“Whatever,” He waits after Gojo walks out. Waits a good forty five seconds before he stands up, and he crosses the room in about three.

He glances over at the thrown aside notebook, eyes quick as he scans it. The handwriting is adjacent to messy, scattered and the page is littered with semi vulgar doodles and side bars. It’s coherent, though, and even though they both know Gojo had no intention of giving it to him, it’s got his signature at the bottom.

1. Full fucking!! Penis in vagina

2. No signs of being inebriated. Absolutely stone cold sober

3. If it takes longer than a month after everyone is introduced we’re both ���a couple of fucking losers” (< Sugu’s words)

4. Orgasms are important ! Or at least near orgasms (she is a virgin)

5. Photo / video proof. If you can’t get it, you aren’t in it (haha! get it?)

He snickers at four, the uneasy tone in the second sentence almost self deprecating. Despite that, he can’t help but feel a smidge of respect that he ended up adding it to begin with.

He grabs the pen from the table, pressing into the paper too hard as he leaves his chicken scratch of a John Hancock. Okay, maybe this will be fun.

taglist… @moonlight-pearls @sharkerino @echerie

[jack-kellys]

so we all know life is a circle. thus fandom is a circle. we see things come back around like the de/twinkification of racetrack higgins. or cowboy versus artist jack kelly. or "mom" friend david jacobs and the perpetual need to make the newsies some kind of heteronormative family. and yet again we've found our way back to the anti katherine pulitzer arc of her "getting in the way" of jack and davey's popular subtextual/fanon relationship. (yes im late nevermind that.)

now, not being a katherine fan is different than being anti-katherine. not being a katherine fan means you might have criticisms like "i'm not sure how she serves the newsies narrative better than, say, sarah jacobs, as sarah is more aligned with the newsies contextually/societally and katherine is very distant and rich lol", or even "i'm not a big fan of how katherine seems to be tired of jack's shit for most of the play and then 'suddenly' finds romantic interest in him within one song".

but being anti-singular-young-woman-character because of a ship between the main two boys is. a tired take is it not? again with the circle, we've had this discourse already and its been cut out. since 2012 and 2017 we been talking about this girl and her value, but not in the context we should be.

(because the context we should be talking about it in is a newsies 1992 versus newsies broadway context, not an anti-katherine context, but i digress.)

katherine's value. what is there to mine from? she is an extremely young woman reporter, 17-18 years old, whose article makes the front page of the new york sun. since she writes under a pseudonym, i'm presuming she writes with skill well above her age to be published at all (yes, even writing vaudeville reviews). in past productions she either finds the newsies at jacobi's because she saw the walk-out (TWWK) from inside The World (UK), or jack kelly simply interests her enough for her to seek him out again (Broadway/Tour/Live). she is unsure about herself as a writer despite her skill which is made clear in her song. she is rich. she did not need to have a career and was encouraged not to. pulitzer is her father and she does not get along with him. she matches jack word for word, often with davey at her side. she mills comfortably about the newsies through the second act and has a friendship of some kind with specs specifically. she also literally says "that's a face [jack's] that could save us all from sinking in the ocean/like someone said 'power tends to corrupt'" essentially prophesying the act 2 betrayal. which is crazy.

you can draw your own conclusions from the above, but all of it is essentially canon? right? so maybe you don't have to be a fan of all of it, but you're really going to tell me absolutely none of this is compelling. that none of this is something you can interpret for yourself as complex. that albert is more complex.

this is not me saying you have to include katherine in everything, because that isn't what this post is about. this is about individuals choosing to dislike or devalue katherine by only viewing her in relation to her as a romantic interest, instead of a complex character in a period piece with a full arc. yes a full arc. it's the musical that's rushed not katherine.

@we-are-inevitable speaks on this extremely well in the comments of this post as well, more in connection to katherine as being a compelling romantic interest in the context of newsies speaking in the defense of love interests/often women characters. in this post i speak on how i would navigate jack/katherine as a director, and in this post i speak on how to direct something to believe in to make it, well, believable, aside from its awful writing for both kath and jack. because again, fandom is a circle, and i literally talked about how to "fix" jatherine in august 2024. at length

[mattsobvimyfav]

neighbors (matthew sturniolo)

pt 10

A couple of days had passed and Nick just posted the vlog from our drive around LA. Charlie and I were lounging on the couch, scrolling through our phones. My notifications had been blowing up all day. Every few seconds, a new comment popped up, most of them about the kiss Matt and I had shared in the vlog. The hate comments didn’t faze me—they were ridiculous and honestly kind of entertaining. People had too much time on their hands.

“Oh my God,” Charlie said, leaning over to peek at my phone. “They’re actually mad about a kiss? Like, of all things to care about.”

I shrugged, smirking. “Apparently, I’m public enemy number one. Should I frame this?”

She laughed, but before either of us could say more, my phone started buzzing. Matt’s name flashed on the screen. I answered quickly, putting the call on speaker.

“Hey,” I greeted casually, expecting him to laugh about the comments with me.

“Have you seen my comment section?” His voice was tense, his tone clipped.

I sat up straighter. “Uh, yeah. People are being dumb. Who cares?”

“I care,” he snapped. “It’s not just about you, Y/N. They’re not even saying awful things about me. Its just about how I ‘picked the wrong girl’ or whatever. It’s everywhere.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow at me, mouthing, ‘Seriously?’

“Matt, they’re just bitching,” I said, trying to stay calm. “You know none of that matters.”

“It’s easy for you to say,” he shot back. “Your TikTok isn’t flooded with comments about how I ‘deserve better’ or how you’re ‘using me for clout.’ It's pissing me off.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Okay, so what do you want to do? We can’t control what people say.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before he spoke again, his tone softer but still firm. “Troll back. Lets just start making whatever we are way more public give them a real reason to be mad.” 

I hesitated, glancing at Charlie, who was already nodding eagerly as if to say, ‘Just do it.’

“Fine,” I said finally. “Let’s do it, I love being a dick online.”

Matt let out a breath, some of the tension easing from his voice. “Deal. I’ll come over later.”

As I hung up, Charlie smirked at me. “Hes gonna make you do porn on tiktok.”

“We havent even fucked,” I said, rolling my eyes. 

“WHAT?” She yelled jumping up sitting straight up “What the fuck was going on the other night than?” 

“He just ate me out and oh my god the hottest thing ever, he was so turned on that started jerking off. Just to eating me out” I said feeling a warmth between my legs rethinking about the night me and Matt shared.

“Wow. Thats really fucking hot, hes inlove with you” Charlie said looking away from me “Im picturing it in my head. I'm jealous” I laughed at her response as we laid back down going back to our phones. 

Later that night, Matt came over, his irritation over the comments still lingering but hidden under his usual calm demeanor. I greeted him at the door, grinning as I waved him inside. "Ready to show the internet who's boss?"

He smirked, shaking his head. "You mean, ready to show the internet that I don’t care, but also kind of care? Yeah, let’s do this."

Charlie, lounging on the couch with her popcorn, chimed in. “Make it iconic, okay? Something that makes the haters cry.”

Scrolling through TikTok, I landed on the “A boy who’s jacked and kind” trend. I turned the screen to Matt. “How about this one? It’s simple, it’s bold, and it’ll get them talking.”

Matt glanced at the screen, then at me, his lips quivering into a smirk. “You really think you can handle me lifting you like that?”

“Please,” I scoffed. “The question is whether you can handle me.”

Charlie snorted from the couch. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

We set up the phone, positioning it on the kitchen counter for the perfect angle. Charlie jumping around on the couch in the back, I stood in front of Matt as the trend’s audio began playing. The line “A boy who’s jacked” came up, and right on cue, Matt’s hands slid to my hips. With a swift, practiced motion, he lifted me effortlessly, placing me on his shoulder like I weighed nothing.

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me as I balanced on his shoulder, gripping onto him for support. The audio continued, transitioning to “and kind,” and Matt gave the camera with a playful grin, tapping my leg lightly.

Matt walked over grabbing his phone while I was still on his shoulders, added the caption: “my lady” and hit post.

Charlie shrugged, looking over Matt’s shoulder. “I like my cameo.”

Matt gently lowered me back to the ground, his hands lingering on my waist. “Think that’ll do the trick?”

I leaned into him slightly, grinning. “Oh, it’ll definitely stir the pot. But at least this time, it’s on our terms.”

We flopped onto the couch next to Charlie, refreshing the post to watch the views climb almost instantly. Matt wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer as the first wave of comments rolled in.

As we sat on the couch, watching the likes and comments roll in from Matt’s TikTok, I turned to him with a mischievous grin. “Okay, now it’s my turn. We’re making one for my account.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Alright. What’s the plan?”

“You’ll see,” I teased, grabbing his hand to pull him up. “We need a parking lot for this one.”

Without hesitation, he stood, grabbed his keys, and intertwined his fingers with mine.  I laughed as he practically dragged me to the door, his excitement contagious. 

“BYE LOVERS! Chris and Nick will be here when you get back!” Charlie yelled from the couch.

“Bye baby!” I yelled back to her

By the time we reached the car, I was giggling uncontrollably. “You don’t even know what we’re doing yet.”

“Don’t care,” he said opening the passenger door for me. “You said parking lot, so we’re going to a parking lot.”

The drive was filled with us singing to old songs wed listen to in college. His curiosity clearly bubbling under the surface. “So,” he finally asked, “are you going to clue me in, or do I just wing it when we get there?”

I smirked, looking out the window. “You’ll know when the time comes.”

He shook his head, chuckling as he turned into a small, dimly lit parking lot. “This good enough for your tiktok?”

“Perfect,” I said, hopping out of the car. I grabbed my phone and propped it up against the tire, adjusting the angle until it captured the open space behind us.

Matt leaned against the car, watching me with amused curiosity. “Alright, sweetheart, what’s the move?”

I pulled up the audio and played it for him, explaining as it went. “Okay, so, I start spinning in the frame when the music begins, and then you run in, pick me up, and keep running off-screen.”

He nodded, walking away.

I laughed, hitting record and jogging into position. The audio started, and I spun slowly, my arms outstretched as the music swelled. ‘You better lock your phone-’ Right on cue, Matt dashed into the frame, scooping me up effortlessly. I squealed in surprise as he kept running, the camera capturing the two of us disappearing into the shadows.

When he finally stopped, both of us were laughing uncontrollably. “That was perfect,” I said, catching my breath as he set me down. 

“Obviously,” he teased, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Now, let’s see it.”

We walked back to the car, reviewing the footage together under the soft glow of the streetlights. The video was exactly what I had imagined.

“You’re posting that, right?” Matt asked, his arm draped casually over my shoulder.

“Absolutely,” I said, uploading the video with the caption: “my future baby daddy.”

As we got back into the car, I glanced over at him, grinning. “You really don’t question anything, do you?”

He shrugged, kissing my forehead. “Not when it comes to you.”

When we got back to the house, the sound of voices and laughter greeted us as we stepped inside. Chris and Nick were now sprawled out on the couch with Charlie, the TV playing in the background.

As soon as I walked in, a wave of excitement hit me. Everything had been going so well lately, and I couldn’t help but feel like life was finally falling into place. “Guys!” I yelled, throwing my arms up in the air. “We should celebrate tonight!”

Nick perked up, looking intrigued. “What are we celebrating exactly?”

“Everything!” I exclaimed. “Life!”

Chris laughed, shaking his head. “Yes Y/N! I LOVE CELEBRATING LIFE!” Chris jumped up wrapping his arms around my shoulders behind me as we jumped like school girls.

Nick’s face lit up. “Well, if we’re talking about celebrating, I know Tara Yummy is throwing a party tonight. Should we go?”

Charlie’s eyes widened with excitement. “I’m in! We haven’t been to one of her parties. We've only ever dmed her a few times about a collab”

Matt looked over at me, smirking. “You good with that?”

“Absolutely,” I said without hesitation, “Let’s go, I can tell Chris is gonna match my freak tonight” I said while patting his arm that was hanging on me.

Charlie laughed at me and Chris jumping around, we exchanged a quick glance before I turned, pointing toward the door. “Alright, you three. Go home and get ready.”

Nick groaned but stood up, dragging Matt with him. “Fine, but you better not take forever.”

“No promises!” Charlie called out as the boys headed out, leaving us to start planning our outfits for the night.

The moment the boys left, Charlie and I raced upstairs to start getting ready. The excitement of the night buzzed between us, making us laugh and talk over each other as we dug through our closets for the perfect outfits.

“I’m thinking something bold,” I said, pulling out a burgundy strapless corset top that hugged my figure and showed off just the right amount of cleavage. I paired it with a tight black cloth skirt that barely covered my ass and my black heeled boots. “What do you think?”

Charlie whistled, grinning. “Matt’s going to fuck you infront of everyone.”

I laughed, tossing a pillow at her. “We’re celebrating life, remember? What about you?”

She held up a black crop top with thin straps that fit her perfectly and paired it with a jean mini skirt that showed off her long legs. She added a pair of cute ankle boots. “How’s this?”

“Absolutely stunning,” I said with a grin. 

We got to work on our makeup and hair, After straightening my hair and leaving it sleek and shiny, I turned to Charlie, who was curling her hair into loose waves.

“You’re going to have every guy at that party eating out of your hand,” I teased, spraying her hair with setting spray.

“Please, as long as Chris is that's all I care ‘bout,” she shot back, but her smile was wide.

By the time we finished, we took a couple pictures in the mirror, grinning like excited to finally meet Tara, and get drunk.

“Let’s do this,” I said, grabbing my phone to text the boys to let them know we were almost ready.

“They better not keep us waiting,” Charlie added with a laugh as we headed downstairs, our heels clicking against the floor, excitement building for the night ahead.

Charlie and I were halfway through our second nip of vodka, as we danced around the kitchen. The boys walked in just as I tipped the tiny bottle back, the liquid burning slightly as it slid down my throat.

“Starting without us?” Nick teased. Chris followed close behind, already laughing at the scene.

Matt came in last, his eyes locking on me immediately. I caught the smirk tugging at his lips as he walked over. Just as I was placing the empty nip on the counter, his hands slid around my waist, and one moved down to grab my butt firmly.

I shrieked, startled, and spun my head around to glare at him, but he leaned down to whisper in my ear, his voice low and teasing. “Let’s go.”

The sound of his voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I turned back around, trying to hide my flushed face as I reached for my bag. Charlie wiggled her eyebrows at me but said nothing as she grabbed her purse and slid her phone into it.

“All set?” Chris asked.

“Matt’s driving,” Nick said with a grin. 

“Lucky me,” I said, giving Matt a playful smirk. “That means you can take care of me when I'm hammered.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled, gesturing toward the door. “Per usual.”

Charlie and I followed the boys outside, the cool night air hitting our skin as we clicked down the driveway in our heels. Matt opened the passenger door for me, and I slid in, adjusting my skirt as he walked around to the driver’s side. Charlie climbed into the back with Chris and Nick, and we were off, heading for Tara’s party.

The car was filled with excitement and music as we drove, everyone hyped for the night ahead. I leaned back in my seat, sneaking a glance at Matt as he drove, his hand gripping the wheel tightly, the other holding my thigh. 

The house was packed with music blasting through the speakers and groups of people talking and laughing in every corner. As we walked in, the energy was electric.

“Y/N! Charlie!” A high-pitched squeal came from across the room, and Tara was practically sprinting toward us. She threw her arms around me first, then Charlie, her excitement contagious. “I was so excited when Nick told me you guys were coming! Finally, I get to meet the infamous Y/N and Charlie. You’re even prettier in person!”

Charlie and I exchanged amused smiles. “You’re so sweet, Tara,” I said, hugging her back.

“Come on,” Tara said, linking her arms with ours. “Let me show you where the drinks are. We’re getting started right now.”

She led us through the crowd, leaving Matt, Nick and Chris to socialize with other people, to a makeshift bar setup on the kitchen counter, complete with every type of alcohol imaginable. Tara wasted no time, grabbing shot glasses and pouring tequila like a pro.

“Let’s go, ladies,” she said, holding up her shot glass.

“Cheers!” we all yelled, clinking glasses before throwing back the first shot.

And then the second.

And then the third.

Before long, Charlie and I were fully committed to a shot-for-shot competition with Tara, each round getting harder to keep up with her.

“Come on, lightweight!” Tara teased as Charlie hesitated before the seventh shot, but I wasn’t about to back down. I threw our shot back, wincing as the burn hit my throat.

By the time an hour had passed, the three of us were absolutely obliterated. Tara was laughing so hard she was leaning on the counter for support, and Charlie and I were clinging to each other to stay upright.

“I love you guys,” Tara slurred, throwing her arms around us. “You’re my favorite people in the world now.”

“You’re my favorite!” Charlie yelled back, equally as drunk, before dissolving into giggles.

I nodded enthusiastically, my head spinning but too far gone to care. “Best friends forever,” I declared, raising my empty shot glass in the air like it was some kind of victory trophy.

The party was in full swing, the music pounding in my chest as I stumbled my way through the crowd, drink still clutched in my hand. My vision blurred slightly, but I was riding a wave of tipsy confidence—until I spotted him.

Matt.

He was leaning casually against the wall, talking to some girl. She was laughing at something he said, leaning in just a little too close. A flash of annoyance surged through me, cutting through the haze of alcohol. My mind betrayed me, flashing back to our college days—Matt fucking girl after girl.

Fueled by jealousy and bad judgment, I stormed across the room, stumbling slightly but determined. “What the hell is this?” I blurted, my voice louder than I intended.

Matt straightened up, his brows furrowing as he looked at me. “Y/N—”

“No, seriously,” I slurred, gesturing wildly at the girl. “What’s happening here?”

The girl blinked in confusion, clearly caught off guard. “Uh, I’m gonna go...” she muttered, excusing herself quickly as the tension between Matt and me became palpable.

Matt’s jaw tightened, and before I could say another word, he grabbed my wrist. “We’re not doing this here,” he said firmly, his voice low but commanding. He pulled me through the crowd, ignoring my protests, until we were in a quiet, empty room.

He let go of my wrist, closing the door behind us. Turning to face me, his eyes were sharp, his tone clearly pissed. “What the fuck was that, Y/N?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” I shot back, swaying slightly on my feet. “Talking to some random girl like I don’t even exist? What’s the deal, Matt? Back to your old habits?”

His hands went to his temples, rubbing them in frustration. “Are you serious right now? She’s just a friend! And even if she wasn’t, that’s not what this is. You’re drunk and making something out of nothing.”

“I saw the way she was looking at you,” I accused, my voice trembling. “And you weren’t exactly pushing her away.”

He took a step closer, his voice lowering as he leaned in. “Y/N, you’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight. Chill the fuck out.”

As Matt’s words echoed in the small, dimly lit room, I could feel the tension building, the weight of everything from the party to my frustrations pressing down on me. But then, unexpectedly, the alcohol made everything feel lighter.

I giggled, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably from my chest. "I love you," I blurted out, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Matt looked at me, eyebrows raised, clearly taken aback by my sudden shift in mood. "What?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and amusement.

I shrugged, the smile on my face turning mischievous despite the still-present anger in my head. "I mean, I do," I said, a silly grin stretching across my face. 

He stood there, speechless for a moment, his eyes searching mine. His lips quirked upward into a small, amused smile as he let out a deep breath. "You’re drunk, Y/N."

"Yeah, I know," I said, still grinning, "but I still love you."

He shook his head, chuckling lightly, before stepping closer. "You're lucky you're cute when you're drunk."

"You still love me, though," I teased,

"Yeah, I do," he admitted, his expression softening. "But let's get you back to the party before you start loving everyone."

I laughed again, “How about you just let me love you..” I pushed Matt back as he stumbled onto the bed.

“y/n don't… you're drunk.” Matt said as I walked towards him, placing myself on his lap.

“Just shut the fuck up Matt and kiss me” 

And when he finally gave me what I wanted, his lips crashing against mine as he moved against me, the world disappeared. There was only Matt—his touch, his voice, his everything. 

Matt’s hands gripped my hips, his hold firm but controlled, as if he was grounding himself as much as he was grounding me. 

His body was flush against mine, every inch of him radiating heat. “Wait till tomorrow,” he murmured, his lips brushing against mine, teasing but not giving me the kiss I desperately wanted. “I refuse to fuck you this drunk, y/n. And you are making it oh so hard”

“Shut up,” I whispered, tugging at his hair to start kissing his neck as I grinded my hips into his.

His hands roamed over my body, exploring every curve, every inch of skin he could reach. His touch was both gentle and possessive, a reminder that in this moment, I was his and his alone.

“Get off me before I go against all my morals,” he said, his voice rough and full of promise. “I say full of love and respect.” he moaned out as I perfected my last hickey on him.

“There, I just needed you to shut up so I could show people. You belong to someone” I said as I leaned back looking at my work.

“Good to know.” Matt said as he leaned down, starting his own art peace on my chest. 

Once he was finished he grabbed my hips standing me up. “Lets go baby” He grabbed my hand pulling me towards the door. I stopped in the mirror fixing my hair and seeing Matt's two hickeys, one on each breast. Matt walked over to the mirror inspecting the couple I left trailing down his neck. “God you are so sexy” He said, kissing my cheek as he guided me out to the party. 

As Matt and I stepped back into the party, the loud music and chatter hit me like a wave. The room felt like it was spinning a little, but I held onto Matt's arm for balance. We were just about to make our way back to the group when Chris spotted us from across the room.

He ran over with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "There you are," he said, stopping in front of us. His eyes flicked between Matt and me before landing on me. "Y/N, I need you bad."

My eyebrows shot up, and Matt's posture immediately tensed beside me, sensing something was off. Chris, however, seemed entirely unfazed by the undercurrent of tension.

"I'm sorry," Chris said with a playful shrug, glancing over at Matt, "No, not like that anymore. I need you as my beer pong partner." He laughed realizing how bad his first sentence sounded.

Matt's grip on my arm tightened, but before I could even ask what he meant, Chris waved a hand dismissively and added with a wink, I couldn't help but laugh, feeling the tension ease a bit. "You scared me for a second there," I joked, shaking my head at Chris.

Matt let out a small laugh too, his shoulders loosening as he realized it was just Chris being his usual, over-the-top self. "Yeah, she’s off-limits for now," Matt said, his tone affectionate but teasing. "But you can have her for beer pong."

Chris grinned and pulled me toward the game, but not before giving Matt a quick look. "Don't worry, I only need her to win this game. And you," he added, glancing at me, "are the best person for the job."

"Let’s do it then," I said, grinning and ready to dive into the chaos of the game, trying to push any lingering doubts aside.

Chris, despite being a bit too drunk to focus, had an energy that was hard to ignore. He bounced on his feet, grinning like a madman as he lined up to take his first shot. “Alright, we got this, Y/N,” he said with way too much confidence, raising his beer.

Across from us, Jake and Tara stood ready, both giving us playful smirks. Tara was already holding her own drink, clearly just as drunk as me, while Jake had a look of determination on his face, obviously eager to win. “You’re going down,” Jake said with a laugh, tossing the ping pong ball up and readying himself to launch it across the table.

Nick and Matt stood off to the side, cheering us on. Nick was practically jumping up and down in excitement, while Matt pushed himself off the wall, going behind me whispering in my ear. "Come on, Baby" 

The game started off slower than I expected, with Chris getting distracted by anything and everything—whether it was a drink on the table or someone else at the party walking by. But even in his drunken state, he was surprisingly good. Tara missed her first few shots, but Jake was still hitting his, making me sweat a little. I had to focus, but thankfully, Chris and I managed to keep our heads in the game.

We took turns, and each time, I felt the tension rise. Tara and Jake had their competitive energy going, but it was clear Chris and I had the upper hand—probably because Tara and Jake were having more fun than they were serious about winning. Chris finally got it together after a few more missed throws, throwing his ball with incredible force and sinking it into one of the last cups.

“Fuck yeah!” Chris shouted, stumbling and almost tipping over. I had to grab him to stop him from falling off balance.

In the final round, it came down to one last shot. Jake was up, and I knew he was going to give it everything he had. He took a deep breath, lined up his shot, and threw the ping pong ball—only for it to bounce off the rim and miss entirely. The room fell silent for a second before Chris and I erupted into cheers.

“We did it!” I yelled, laughing as Chris grabbed me in a half-hug and spun me around. “I can’t believe we won!”

Nick and Matt, who had been watching from the sidelines, immediately started clapping and cheering. “FINALLY!” Nick shouted, high-fiving Chris.

Tara and Jake laughed good-naturedly, though I could tell they were a little disappointed. “Alright, alright, you guys earned it,” Jake said, tossing a playful glare in our direction.

An hour had passed, and the energy of the party was starting to get to me. I could feel the buzz starting to wear off, and I was ready to head home. I looked over at Matt, who was leaning against the wall, talking to Nick. He caught my eye, and I gave him a small nod, silently telling him I was ready to go.

I walked over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. "Matt, I think it's time to head home," I said, trying to keep the smile on my face, but feeling the exhaustion from the party creeping in. The lights were too bright, the music a little too loud, and I just wanted to go back to the comfort of my place.

Matt nodded, his hand immediately finding mine. "Alright, let's get out of here," he said, pulling me toward the door. We waved to Tara and a few others as we made our way out of the party and into the cool night air.

Nick, who went to get Chris and Charlie, was already making his way to the car, pulling Chris and Charlie along with him. We all piled into the car, with Matt driving, me in the passenger seat, and the rest of the crew in the back. The ride was mostly quiet, everyone content in their own thoughts after a long night.

As we drove through the city streets, I could feel the tension finally easing. The party was fun, but there was something about heading home with Matt, knowing the night was winding down. I leaned my head against the window, watching the streetlights blur past as we made our way home.

Matt glanced over at me, a small smile on his face. "You good?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Yeah," I replied, smiling back at him. "Just ready to be alone with you."

We drove the rest of the way in comfortable silence, the sounds of the car and the occasional laugh from the backseat filling the air. The night had been eventful, but now all I wanted was the peace of being home with Matt.

tag-

@tbfaptbfae @ch0lliess @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @slut4christopherr @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @christophersstar @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend

[razorblade180]

Archon Ranking

Charlotte:Aether! As a famous traveler with deep connections to other nations and their Archons, I have to ask, *pulls out pen and paper* who do you think the best Archon is among the ones you met?

Aether:…*looks around* I don’t know how, but it feels like they’re listening. I just know it’s going to get back to them.

Venti:*behind a house* Shhh

Archons:*nod silently*

Aether:This question isn’t exactly easy, it’s not impossible. The Raiden Shogun and Rex Lapis are out of the running.

Ei:(That’s fair…)

Zhongli:*slouches*

Charlotte:Well one of them did kick off a civil war, but why think little of the deceased Lord of Geo? Is it because you didn’t get the chance to know him enough.

Aether:…Yes. While I commend his diligence, I fear having such a strict and uncompromising approach to the concept of contracts lead to a few… rather unnecessary predicaments that could’ve been avoided by forming more open and new contracts with his people.

Zhongli:An interesting perspective. One that may or may not hold some merit. I won’t outright dismiss it, but some things must be set in stone.

Furina:Now I don’t mean to criticize such an enlightened individual, but as someone who actually had a national incident set in stone, I don’t think your plan had to have one.

Zhongli:Hmmm

Aether:The others are sorta tricky. I can’t find fault in how Nahida chose to conduct herself. Centuries of isolation by her own people and yet she still helped throughout history. Perhaps it would’ve been simpler for her to take a hands on approach and speak out against the injustices she felt, but she’s still a young and gentle god. I can’t blame her for feeling small.

Charlotte:I’ve read dozens or articles after Sumeru’s liberation. I gotta say some brought me to tears! Though she’s far older than us, I must say I don’t think it’s inappropriate to say asking such a feat is no different than expecting a child to stand up to an adult without ever being taught to do so. If anything, it makes it more amazing that she eventually did!

Aether:I agree. I’m very proud of her.

Nahida:*sniffles* Aw, I see. Suddenly I’m all warm inside.

Charlotte:Am I correct to say you’ve met the god of Anemo?

Aether:….

Charlotte:Off the record.

Aether:Yes. I’ve met them several times. As for on the record, the Anemo Archon may not be present often, his presence is always felt down to the blades of grass. From the very start he made a place made for his people, and lead by his people. A hands off approach not only not only fits the god of freedom, but is beneficial for the common man. Plus, it’s not like anyone feels abandoned. There’s countless records of their god returning to aid in times of need.

Charlotte:Make you wonder if he had any hand in the Storm Terror crisis.

Aether:I wouldn’t put it past them. My glider never seemed to fail a rookie like me when I needed it most.

Venti:*smiles smugly*

Zhongli:You still drink too much.

Venti:Because I have the time. You do too. Some might say, Liyue is more like Mondstadt these days.

Ei:No one is saying that.

Venti:And yet I still find it comical how much a certain someone put into retiring, just to live among his people with a normal occupation.

Mavukia:He…makes a point. To a degree. You both ended in the same spot surprisingly.

Zhongli:Sigh….

Aether: As for Furina and Mavuika… it feels wrong to praise one without the other. The Pyro Archon is a strong capable leader who’s very personable. Her plan was a bit more than crazy, but it had to be to face the abyss. Most importantly, she suffered alongside her people and sacrificed a lot in order to see her plan through. Things nobody should ever have to give up; like being an older sibling. She has my respect. Truly, no one fights alone with her around.

Mavukia:*smiles* If you ask me, he should share some of that praise with himself.

Aether:As for Furina, well, do I really have to tell you about her. To this day, people see her as a the Hydro Archon.

Charlotte:How could Fontainian’s not? Even with the truth discovered, it doesn’t change she’s been prevalent in our history.

Aether:While I don’t think I can say her leadership skills are as astute as other Archons, I personally can’t bring myself to say she isn’t brilliant. Furina did her job to the letter and never compromised it once for the sake of her people despite every single day wearing down her soul until she was in literal tears. I honestly don’t know what’s more impressive. Mavukia has always moved forward without faltering. That takes immense strength. Furina though, she doesn’t have that kind of strength. In a lot of ways, she did break and hesitate, yet she walked forward all the same. It’s both amazing and terrifying. Human Archons sure are interesting.

Charlotte:Maybe it’s our shared humanity that made them so strong in your eyes.

Aether:Maybe, but I think even archons in the traditional sense are more human than some give them credit. For instance, they’re all nosy enough to eavesdrop behind a house.

Venti:Ha, busted…

Furina walks out with a red face and eyes that tried to act serious but failed to do so thanks to their glossy gaze that struggled to hold back tears. She didn’t even know what to say and feared her voice might shake. Before she could try, Aether hugs her. She can only hug him back in frustration. It didn’t take long for Nahida to join. Meanwhile Mavukia and Ei walked out into view simply because there was no need to hide.

Aether:You guys are ridiculous.

Ei:True feelings are typically expressed when the subject isn’t around. I must admit, I wish you had said at least one positive thing.

Aether:No one can ever doubt that you care. Maybe you didn’t express it correctly, and very few people know your grief, but you are a good person. I mean that.

Ei:I appreciate your understanding. Perhaps in the future, many more will share a similar idea.

Charlotte:…*squints* Are the Anemo and Geo archon behind the house too?

Aether:Off the record?

Charlotte:*tosses pen and paper* I can keep a secret! I’ll make a contact if I have to! I just gotta know~

Venti:..*peeks head out* Hello!

Charlotte:I’ve seen you!!! You’re the drunk bard everyone likes even though he doesn’t pay his tab!

Venti:I pay my tab! It just keeps coming back.

Charlotte:*bounces with anticipation* Is the Lord of Geo with you? Hehehe~

Zhongli:…*sticks arm out*

Charlotte:DIRECTOR HU TAO’S FUNERAL CONSULTANT!?

Zhongli:Wha- she knew by my sleeve!?

Aether:I am going to be honest, wearing all brown and having a job that uses your encyclopedic knowledge of history is not a conspicuous disguise.

Venti:I told ya, you might as well of chose to be a miner. There’s dozens of those; much like there’s countless bards! So what if I sing an old song!? Nobody would bat an eye if you were good at digging.

Zhongli:Sigh…

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

There's nothing more beautiful than Lily being obviously jealous.

Imagine she starts having a crush on James. She doesn't want to admit it, even if James has always been obvious about his feelings. Because for Lily it is scary to admit she had given in. So it is easy for her to keep fighting. To keep being his frenemie.

But oh, when a girl flirts with James, there is something inside of Lily that make her act like a crazy person.

She doesn't know James is not flirting. He is just nice with everyone.

"What a shame, Potter" she would tut "Flirting with younger girls in front of everyone. Aren't you ashamed of making such an spectacle in front of children? There are first years around. And you are wrongly their role model.... What are they going to learn from you, really? I think it is awful and rude to be doing that with poor girls... Using them... How awful!!"

And James would grin "Something tells me that you're jealous, Evans"

"Ha!" Lily would laugh hysterically "Please, as if I would get jealous of... Of random poor birds... Honestly I feel sorry for them to have to endure your stupid face and your stupid smile all the time... God wonders how they do it!! God Wonders!!"

"You are adorable when you're jealous" James would reply "If you would accept the fact that you are the only girl I want"

Which would make Lily blush, go red as a tomato.

"With that verse to your bloody grandmother, Potter!!" Lily would snap "You probably tell that to all the girls.... And they drool for you, don't they? Ha, Stupid wanker"

And she would run away whispering to herself: "He is messing with you, Lily. He is just messing with you"

The thing is that even if James is saying it upfront, Lily thinks he is just messing with her. And she really doesn't want to have her heart broken.

But James is head over heels for her and he thinks he doesn't have a chance.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Sugar & Spicy Books Chapter 3

Summary:  Y/N is an accomplished writer who is newly divorced, and out of fear of the unknown, moves back to her small hometown she swore she’d never come back to.  She comes across her best friend that never left, who helps her out of a tough spot.  Will old feelings arise?  Or is she just too big for such a small place now?

Warnings:  language, smut

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Y/N got into a routine with Bucky and Autumn.  On the days she picked up Autumn from school she would take her out and about to grocery shop on Mondays, accompany her to softball practice on Wednesdays, and every Friday was take out night.  She loved spending time with Autumn, and could see childhood Bucky in her whenever they would play, or in the way she smiled or laughed.  She also got to spend a lot of time with Winnie, which she was grateful for.  People around town recognized Y/N from way back when or from her books and would try to talk to her sometimes, but she always politely brushed them off whenever she was with Autumn, not wanting to be a spectacle.  Every night after they all got home, had dinner, and Autumn went to bed she and Bucky would talk for way too long, catching up and having in-depth, intellectual conversations that she missed.  She could feel that crush coming on full force as their friendship picked up right where it left off all those years ago.

Two weeks later they all came home one Friday with Bucky acting extra excited.  “Alright, Autumn!  You’re having a sleepover weekend at Grandma’s!” he announced.

“Yay!” Autumn cheered, running up to her room to gather a bag of her things.

“And you and I,” he said quietly, pointing at Y/N, “are going out.”

“Out?” Y/N smiled.  “Out where?”

“Boston,” he smirked.

“Boston?” Y/N scoffed.  “What the hell for?”

“To celebrate,” Bucky said.  “Go change into something nice but warm.  And pack an overnight bag.”

Y/N watched him walk up the stairs with wide eyes.  She quickly followed, changing into one of the nicer dresses she still owned, fixing up her hair and makeup and wearing sensible shoes, just in case.  She grabbed her fluffiest cardigan and a larger purse to carry her overnight things.  When she went back downstairs Autumn was jumping in place, holding her own bag and pillow as Bucky was fixing his hair in the mirror in the entryway.

“Daddy let’s go!” Autumn whined, then turned to Y/N and gasped dramatically.  “Y/N you look beautiful!”

Y/N smiled at her.  “Aw, thanks lovey,” she said, looking down at herself.  She looked up again at Bucky who was more dressed up than she had seen him since she came to town, looking dapper and cleaned up.  She whistled at him.  “Wow, Barnes, you really know how to clean up,” she smirked at him.

Bucky blushed at her compliment.  “Says the woman who came down looking like that,” he gestured to her.  “Looking good, Y/L/N.”

She hid her blush behind a laugh and reached out to squeeze his arm.  Autumn pulled on the sleeve of her cardigan and she quickly placated her.  “Alright, alright, let’s go.”

After dropping Autumn off the ride to Boston was two hours.  She and Bucky talked the whole way, reminiscing on old times and crazy things from their childhoods.  Bucky pulled up to a small hotel downtown, checked them in and dropped off their overnight things, then ordered an Uber.  The driver pulled up to The Bell in Hand Tavern.  “Oh Jesus, I remember this,” Y/N giggled.  “When Sam got us fake IDs and we drank way too much.  I had to haul your ass down the street before the cops came.  You were trying to kiss me the whole way.”

“I remember everything up until that point,” Bucky laughed.  “Then Steve drove us all the way home but missed the turn off and took us to Sugarbrush Farm.”

“Where you bathed in the smallest vat of maple syrup I’ve ever seen,” Y/N laughed as he helped her out of the car.  “You were sticky for weeks…Sugar.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and wound an arm around her shoulders.  He dipped his head down to her ear.  “You think you’re teasing me, but I like it when you call me Sugar,” he said.

“Oh really?” Y/N scoffed, looking at him.  Bucky arched an eyebrow at her as he steered her to the main front bar and flagged down the bartender.  “Hi, I’ll have a Jameson Black Barrel.  And she’ll have a,” he eyed her, “Nantucket Lemonade?”

“Ugh, yes,” Y/N moaned, her eyes rolling back.  “I haven’t had that in ages.”

Bucky’s eyes widened at her expression but he quickly looked back at the bartender.  “That’ll be it,” he nodded.  

When their drinks were ready he took her over to a small table by the window and they sat.  “So, what are we celebrating?” Y/N asked.

Bucky held up his glass.  “Cheers to your divorce.”

Y/N laughed loudly and clinked her glass against his.  “Cheers!” she said, drinking the cocktail.  “Fuck that’s good.”

They ate and drank the night away, laughing and talking too loud as they got more tipsy.  They didn’t notice people leaving until the bartender yelled out, “Last call!”

“Oh shit,” Bucky giggled and took out his phone.  “We gotta go, honey.”

“Aw,” Y/N whined.  “But I’m hungry!”

“We’ll find something to eat on the way back,” he smiled as he stood and helped her get up.  She leaned on him heavily as he paid the tab and then ordered another Uber.  

“How are you still standing and I’m struggling?” Y/N asked, gripping his arm tight.

“‘Cause I had two whiskeys and drank water, and you had…four cocktails?” Bucky chuckled.  

“Ugh,” Y/N groaned as he helped her into the Uber.  They convinced the Uber driver to stop by a fast food place to grab food before going to the hotel, inhaling the burgers and fries while they stumbled in and eventually found their room.

Bucky fumbled with the key card, dropping it twice while Y/N fought back fits of giggles.  When he finally opened the door they both fell inside, laughing maniacally as they sprawled out on the floor and the door shut loudly.  “Ssshhh!!” Bucky shushed her, bringing a finger to her lips.  “It’s late!”

Y/N playfully nipped at his finger, making him gasp.  “Gotcha,” she teased, before rolling over and crawling toward the bed.  Bucky crawled after her, and as she started to climb the bed he slapped her ass.  “Buck!” Y/N gasped, looking back at him.

“What?  It’s not my fault you have a great ass,” Bucky smirked.  

“Oh no, are you gonna try to have your way with me like last time?” Y/N laughed, lifting herself up onto the bed and laying flat on it.

“How dare you!  I would never take advantage of such a refined lady!” he said in a horrible British accent.  He flopped onto the bed next to her.  “Though I can assure you…you’d love it,” he winked.

“So sure of yourself,” Y/N giggled.  Her head was feeling fuzzy, the filter fully gone as she turned to face him.  He leaned on his elbows, making it so he was slightly hovering above her at the angle she put herself in.  Y/N stared at him for a moment before her hand reached up and her finger traced his lips.  “You’re a good kisser, did you know that?” she asked.

“What?” Bucky scoffed.  

“The night before I left,” Y/N frowned.  “You kissed me, remember?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, blinking rapidly.  

Her thumb ran along his bottom lip, slightly pulling it down before she dropped her hand between them.  “Softest, prettiest lips,” she whispered, then closed her eyes.  “Felt like my heart was…flying that night,” she breathed.  

“Really?” Bucky’s voice sounded closer.

“Mhm,” Y/N nodded, her eyes still closed.  “Been dreaming about it ever since.”

She felt Bucky’s nose nuzzle her nose, his breath fanning her cheek.  “I liked kissing you,” he breathed.

Y/N opened her eyes, looking up to see him staring at her with a soft look in his eyes.  “Really?” she asked.  

“Been dreaming about it ever since,” he repeated her words with a smirk.

Y/N sobered up as she processed his words and the position they were in, this moment that hung precariously in the balance between friendship and something more.  She had the sudden realization that she had loved this man since she was a child, but it had just never been their time.  He had only entered her life again recently, and as different and separate as their lives had been, it was like no time had passed at all.  She wanted this.   This life, with him and Autumn, in the town that she had initially run away from.  

Bucky slowly leaned down, his gaze flickering to her lips.  “Can I…can I kiss you, honey?” he whispered, his lips ghosting over hers.

“Yes,” Y/N whispered.

He smiled, then kissed her.  Y/N sighed into the kiss, her entire body relaxing into the bed.  It was like all the stress, tension, uncertainty, how lost she felt and how big the world felt, it all disappeared and tunnel visioned into this moment.  All that mattered was that it was Bucky and he was kissing her…and it was perfect.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her hand holding the back of his head to keep him close, scratching into his hair.  Bucky moaned at the scratch, pulling his body to completely hover over hers, his hips nestled between her legs.  Y/N got lost in his kisses, the euphoria of feeling his lips, his tongue, his teeth, his hands caressing her everywhere, his heaviness on top of her.  She didn’t realize when they’d gotten naked, but suddenly they were and she felt him everywhere she could reach.  The planes of muscles built up over time, the tuft of chest hair, his calloused fingers, and the pure pleasure at his cock rubbing between her lower lips.  

Bucky kissed down her neck, her chest, giving plenty of attention and care to her breasts, then down her stomach to her core.  He lifted her legs over his shoulders, gripping her thighs as he kissed over her clit, making her gasp and buck her hips, Bucky forcing her to stay put.  He made out with her pussy, kissing and licking it like it was the most delicious dessert he’d ever had.  Y/N’s head wrenched back as he sucked at her clit, then flicked it repeatedly with the tip of his tongue.  She was cumming in seconds, squirming in his hold as she whimpered above him.  Bucky licked and drank all she gave him.  When he helped her through the aftershocks of her orgasm he slowly pulled himself up and crawled back up to kiss her, his mouth and chin shining with her slick.  “And you call me Sugar,” he smiled as he bent down and kissed her again.

Y/N moaned at the taste of herself on his lips, her fingers scratching down his back.  “Buck please,” she breathed.  

Bucky nodded as his hand gripped his cock and slid it through her pussy again.  “I’ll take care of you, honey,” he said.  He aimed himself and started pushing forward.  Y/N slightly winced at the stretch, her hands gripping his biceps as he thrust into her.  When his hips were flush with hers he let out a grunt, his head leaning on her shoulder.  “Fuck, Y/N…you feel so fucking good.  Jesus,” he kissed her collarbone.  

“You’re amazing,” she replied.  “Please fuck me, Sugar.  Fuck me.  I can take it.”

Bucky huffed a laugh against her skin.  “I’m sure you could, honey.  And as much as I’d love to fuck you, right now I just wanna make love to you.”  He lifted his head to look at her.  “I just wanna feel you, nice and slow.  Is that okay?” he pleaded.  “I’ve wanted you for years, Y/N.  I’ve loved you for so long.”

Y/N could feel tears start to build in her eyes.  “I love you, Bucky,” she sniffled, cupping his face in her hands.  “I’ve always loved you.”

Bucky smiled wide then kissed her.  He started thrusting slowly, pulling keens and groans from her throat.  His cock felt perfect, like it was meant to be in her.  As much as she and Raf had had a mostly fulfilling sex life, it had never felt like this was him.  Bucky’s hips rolled and thrust randomly, the switch up making her eyes roll back every time.  He dug a hand under her neck, gripping her by the back of the head and the nape of the hair on her neck, forcing her head certain ways as he kissed her repeatedly.  He would nip at her jaw and her earlobe, before kissing his way back to her mouth, where the kisses would change from sweet, soft pecks to demanding, sloppy, and passionate.  She felt lightheaded at how he played her body like an instrument only he knew.

Her pussy fluttered around him, making him shudder above her, pulling away from another kiss as he gasped.  “Damn, you gonna cum for me, honey?  Cum all over my cock, huh?”  Y/N nodded like she was still drunk.  Bucky’s hips picked up the pace, his cock dragging in and out of her exquisitely.  He suddenly hauled himself up and held her against him so she was sitting in his lap, her arms and legs wrapped around him as he changed the angle and started thrusting up into her even deeper.  Y/N squealed, her nails digging into his back.  “You feel how deep I am, Y/N?  God, you’re perfect.  Most perfect pussy.  Better than I could have ever dreamed.”  He kissed her deeply again, his hand still holding her by the back of the neck and his other hand splayed on her back, holding her where he wanted her.  When he broke the kiss he leaned his forehead against her forehead and stared in her eyes.  “You’re my perfect dream, you know that?  Goddamn, I love you.”

“And you’re mine,” Y/N said, her breaths huffing against his face.  “Love you…love you, Sugar, Bucky, love you.”  She rattled on, feeling the build up in her belly.  “Mine,” she groaned.

“Yours,” Bucky nodded, his hand at her neck sliding down to her clit and flicking it with his thumb fast.  “Mine,” he nearly growled.

Y/N stiffened in his arms and came hard, shaking as it felt like lightning shooting through her veins and she cried out his name.  He buckled at how her pussy gripped his cock, falling back onto the bed with her, his hips rolling into her as he shuddered again and whimpered loudly in her ear as he came.  They held each other tightly as they calmed down, hot breaths fanning each other’s skin.  Bucky lifted his head from her shoulder and looked at her.  His gaze made her heart leap with how soft and wondrous he looked.  “Did you mean it?” he asked quietly.

“What?” Y/N frowned.

“That you love me,” Bucky said, tracing her face with his fingers.

She smiled.  “I do.  I love you, Sugar.  I’ve loved you since we were kids.  I wish I would have realized it sooner.”

Bucky smiled.  “Been dreaming about me ever since?”

Y/N laughed and smacked his shoulder.  “Yes, you little shit.”

Bucky chuckled, but his eyes looked mischievous.  “Did you think of me when you were fucking your husband?”

Y/N scoffed incredulously.  “Okay, first of all, ex-husband, and secondly, you cheeky bastard!” 

“Answer the question, honey,” Bucky said, dipping his head back down into the crook of her neck, nipping at her skin.  His hold on her tightened again, and his hips rocked into her, pulling a gasp from her lips at how he was getting hard inside her again.  

“Sometimes,” she replied breathily.  

He hummed in her ear.  “I’m gonna take real good care of you, honey.  All that sexy stuff in your books?  God, you got me feeling horny for years from your stories.  Now I’m gonna take my time and show you what it can really be like.  You want to show me how well you can take it now?”

Y/N groaned.  “Holy shit…yes!” she cried out.

Bucky chuckled darkly.  “Good girl…”

[haifoct]

Happy two months anniversary to Zhuo Yichen & Li Lun sex scene choke episode!

I wish I could say I was exaggerating or joking when I describe episode 23 of Fangs of Fortune as a sex scene between Zhuo Yichen and Li Lun.

And yet. 

No other moment in the series comes close to the sheer intimacy and strange sexual tension of the brutal, unapologetic beating Li Lun puts Zhuo Yichen through.

You’re filled with worry, awe, and guilty excitement as you watch it all unfold; they ensure that hurricane of conflicting emotions sets in motion inside your tight chest because they build it up almost the same way cdramas build up their kissing scenes sex scenes.

To truly appreciate the beauty of episode 23, we need to revisit episodes 6, 16, and 19. Each of these episodes offers an attempt at a fight just the tip and a promise.

"But first, I need to kill you, an even more evil thing."

"I choose for you to die."

Our precious rabid puppy Zhuo Yichen never misses a chance to jump Li Lun like his life depends on it (perhaps it does). He has so much tempter, especially when it comes to Li Lun. Meanwhile, our precious Li Lun meets that aggression with… well? 

In episode 6, Li Lun never truly fights Zhuo Yichen. Instead, he uses Ran Yi as both his blade and his shield before happily escaping, leaving everyone in shambles.

In episode 16, Li Lun mostly dodges Zhuo Yichen’s attacks. First, he stops Zhuo Yichen’s sword with just his fingers, then he seems determined to kill Pei Sijing right on the spot until Zhuo Yichen joins the fight to protect her. Li Lun’s usual cold and calm rage shifts into a cheeky smile, and another flirtatious promise leaps from his tongue.

"Zhuo Yichen, don’t forget. At the final moment, your Cloud Light Sword can kill him."

In episode 19… I have so much to say about this episode, actually, but almost none of it involves Zhuo Yichen and Li Lun. That said, I really enjoy Zhuo Yichen’s decision to stay after casting a glance at Li Lun’s domineering presence.

I just think they’re very pretty, look at them.

Zhu Yan and Zhuo Yichen barely let Li Lun breathe. Attack after attack, and yet none of the blades directed at him hurt as much as the words that pierce his heart. Zhu Yan sets Li Lun on fire again—normal people things—and the last words Li Lun utters before forever losing the human form he developed are a desperate promise and a plea.

"You will kill him one day. Kill Zhao Yuanzhou."

(Quick off topic, I love how troubled Zhuo Yichen looks when he learns about Li Lun literally burning alive, lol) 

All those beautiful moments leading up to episode 23 shows us that Li Lun never wanted to kill or hurt Zhuo Yichen. He wanted Zhuo Yichen. As his companion in revenge against the one person who hurt them both.

Then episode 23 happens.

For happy shippers like myself, it literally starts with Wen Xiao losing her shit over Li Lun possessing Zhuo Yichen, with Li Lun's theme playing during Zhuo Yichen's entrance, and with Tian Jiarui speaking in the voice that Yan An is using for Li Lun. Truly a feast! But that’s not what we’re discussing here.

That damn fight, that damn sex scene.

The only way for me to describe it, it's so personal, and they don’t even know each other long enough to be personal. 

Li Lun promises to Zhuo Yichen while also taunting him, so annoyed by this loud human screaming for Bai Jiu. Makes sure Zhuo Yichen knows it’s him, Li Lun who is s pinning him down into the ground, towering over his body, topping him, with hand on his throat.  

"So noisy. Look closely. I'm not your Xiao Jiu. I'm Li Lun."

What the hell do I know about whether it was a spiteful remark, mirroring Zhuo Yichen’s promises, mocking him, provoking him, or if it was Li Lun’s cold and calm rage speaking, a grievance and pain within him, because this human he had been nothing but kind to dared to help Zhu Yan set him on fire again. Perhaps it was both; perhaps he meant it; perhaps he changed his mind later in the episode and refused to kill unconscious Zhuo Yichen, walking off and letting fate decide whether Zhuo Yichen lives. Perhaps he didn't, simply wanted Zhuo Yichen alive. (*turns him into a demon <3 bc fate can go and fuck itself i guess, Li Lun is fate.*)

The second Truth Eyes hit Zhuo Yichen’s, round, big, and determined eyes, he jumps Li Lun again like a rabid puppy, not a single fuck given about the simplest of truths that if he hurt’s Li Lun, he will hurt Xiao Jiu. 

I cannot lie here. Despite my heart ripping itself apart for Zhuo Yichen, when his dearest friend, his dearest light, his dearest Cloud Light Sword gets broken—over and over again on each rewatch—there’s something so satisfying about watching Li Lun take this fight more seriously than in any of their previous encounters.

It is a gesture of goodwill to keep Zhuo Yichen alive. All those times before. This time? He will show this human his place, and make his pants creamy.

Li Lun not only physically tortures Zhuo Yichen but also psychologically when he breaks Cloud Light Sword in half with needles Bai Jiu carries around (Wouldn’t it be fun if those needles remained from the time when Bai Jiu was supposed to seal Zhu Yan’s touch?)

They're so gorgeous, what the hell?

What a fun human to toy with.

My thoughts get way too explicit after this, and I genuinely can’t find any heterosexual explanation for this.

I see your vision, insane director.

Make sure you kiss your knuckles before you punch me in the face.

I guess Li Lun likes to take Zhuo Yichen from behind.

and watch him struggle at the mercy of his hands as Zhuo Yichen desperately grabs onto them, while Li Lun is unable to resist looking at that unfairly pretty face, luxuriating in every change of emotion he chokes out of him. How beautiful Zhuo Yichen looks then, fighting for his and his dearest friend's life?

What sound does that divine statue make being knocked down, trampled, and trapped in dust? This desperate, fun human, will he get himself up? For his friend that believes in him, trusts him?

"Don't waste your effort. My inner core has been inside Bai Jiu's body for many days. My soul has already solidified, making it much stronger than Bai Jiu's. His soul is nothing but a weak ant compared to mine, which can be easily crushed by me."

I guess Li Lun, then, likes to turn all of Zhuo Yichen to look at his face, again; to have Zhuo Yichen look at him. So Zhuo Yichen comes knowing exactly who fucked him, or whatever Li Lun promised him earlier. 

Listen.

There's a BTS clip of that iconic shot: of Li Lun hiding from those big, round, unyielding, and unafraid eyes by covering Zhuo Yichen's face with his giant hand, eclipsing the light; of Zhuo Yichen biting him, we all know it. And all I can do is wildly gesture at it, at their hands, and rest my case here.

I love Zhuo Yichen and Bai Jiu both biting into the wood to free themselves too much to not mention it again. 

That hopeless wish to save Bai Jiu is the only thing that keeps encouraging Zhuo Yichen to fight against that demonic strength, that so very human body.

"Give Xiao Jiu back to me!"

"No. <3"

Humans and ants and divine statues are so amusing when they try to stand up as you crush them.

Letting Zhuo Yichen pierce his heart wasn’t even remotely part of Li Lun’s plans. What’s really fun to me here is disbelief and shock on both their faces. One offended, confused, and "How dare you kick Miette? Jail!"; the other confused, unwavering, hopeful. 

By episode 23, have surely learned two things that cannot be argued with:

If you bite Li Lun, he will bite harder.

Li Lun doesn't want Zhuo Yichen dead.

That punch in the throat made me audibly gasp the first time I watched this episode. Then I held my breath and released a relieved sigh. Li Lun was satisfied with simply toying with that awfully loyal and fascinating human. Perhaps all Li Lun ever wanted from that fight was a chance to touch that divine statue.

Obviously, I must remind you that the sex scene fight between Zhuo Yichen and Li Lun, unfolds as Wen Xiao and Zhao Yuanzhou share their own adorable almost-kiss scene, full of 300 years of yearning. Just saying, FoF is a perfect C-drama formula with a main couple and a second couple.

Cannot wait for insane director to make some bitter and hilarious references, much like how he ridiculed those supporting Gong Shangjue and Shangguan Qian by making a satire on them in Fangs of Fortune. But this time in Veil of Shadows.

GJM kicks his feet and giggles like Wang Xingyue as he makes Yan An and Tian Jiarui hold hands on the set of Veil of Shadows. His ship has sailed.

And so has mine.

Happy lunchen sex scene day, yay!

[hellishjoel]

boy next door

711 words / pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

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word: spring cleaning

warnings/information: fluff!! literal fluff!!

a/n: sorry (not really) that I keep choosing Frankie as my inspiration for many of these prompts, he is just so lover boy!! my banners are by @saradika-graphics. shoutout to @berryispunk and @lady-bess for putting this together on @fanfictionoverload!

Francisco Morales has always been the boy next door. From grade school to high school, your lives ran parallel. You shared the same school bus stop and the same backyard fence. 

It all began when he saw you cruising the cul-de-sac on your Razor scooter, his shy smile lingering until you rode up and asked if he wanted a turn. That was the moment your friendship truly began—joined at the hip from that day forward.

High school changed things. Francisco turned into Frankie, and Frankie got… hot. All sharp features and soft brown eyes with floppy curls often nestled under a hat. Meanwhile, you were navigating the awkwardness of acne and insecurities, and your circles didn’t quite overlap the way they used to. 

Life pulled you in different directions—you went to university, and Frankie enlisted. You assumed he’d forgotten about you, imagining him making new friends, finding someone special, and leaving your shared past behind.

Then, last Christmas Eve, Frankie appeared at your parents' doorstep, clutching a tin of cookies his mom had baked. The surprise visit turned into hours of catching up over hot cocoa and nostalgia. 

That night rekindled something neither of you had realized you missed. A year later, he wasn’t just the boy next door anymore—he was your sweet, goofy boyfriend, and today, he was helping you tackle early spring cleaning at your parents' house before they moved to Florida. 

“Florida must have subliminal radio waves for retirees.” He grunts as he yanks down the rickety wooden ladder to the attic, shifting around boxes until his eyes land on one with Barbie stickers and childish scribbles with a marker. “What do we have here?” he teases, descending the ladder with the box cradled against his chest.

Your heart sank. “Frankie, no,” you warn, lunging forward to grab it.

“I spy some diaries!” Frankie beams, heat rushing to all parts of your body in panic.

“Please don’t read those. I’m begging you.” 

Frankie holds up the thickest one, a compound notebook with a black and white cover that has your name and the year scrawled over it in a gel pink pen. 

Frankie scoffs playfully, eyeing you over curiously. “What’s the worst it could say? Did you confess to a crime in here? With a pink glittery pen?”

“Frankie, please,” you groan, face buried in your hands.

Those pages hold so many memories from high school. You remembered bits and pieces of what could be inside, but you knew at least a few pages described your torrid girlish crush on Francisco. Your boy next door. 

His playful grin softened as he studied your expression. He placed the notebook back in the box and set it on the floor. “Okay, baby. I won’t look. I was just messing around.” He crossed the room, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m sorry.”

The relief you feel gives you the courage to flip through the journal, finding one page in particular. “One page. And one page only. Okay?”

Frankie’s eyes lit up as he slid behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. Together, you found the page—his name, scrawled in a big heart pierced with an arrow.

He tightened his hold, and you felt the warmth of his blush against your cheek. “You had a crush on me?” he murmurs, his voice low and awed. “I used to have a crush on you. You were so cool, and I never told you how I felt. You always just seemed so much smarter than me, and you didn’t care what anyone thought. No way in hell did I think you’d be into me.”

You turn in his arms, both of you smiling like teenagers again.

He shakes his head and pulls you in for a deep kiss, his rough hands melting at the hold he has on your jaw, taking in the love notes scattered throughout your journal. “I could have had you all this time.” 

You shake your head and squeeze his hands assuredly. “Our timing is just right.” The attic, the journals, and the past faded away. In this moment, it was just the two of you—and the love that had finally found its time.

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[sprunkimortality]

i saw the blog for the sister au . what is the mortality sprunkis thoughts on the nightfall sprunkis

(Completely hypothetical, probably only canon in multiversal interactions lol)

Oren: "Aw, he's real chill, dude. I wanna game with him and the boys sometime. By the boys, I mean like...our boys, and his boys." Raddy: "...stuck-up little son of a sprinkle." Clukr: "I intend to study him someday. It's intriguing how our worlds match and yet also differ."

Fun Bot: "TWIN!! YEAAAAH!!"

Vineria: "Our auras blend so well. I mean, we're like the same person...so it totally makes sense. There's also something alluring about her...but it's not an aura thing."

Gray: "I wonder if he also likes The Divine Machine." Brud: "Two Brud! Is like brudda! Wowa!!" Garnold: "He's a pretty cool guy, I'm not gonna lie! I should ask him if he wants to hang out sometime...totally not doing anything Clukr wouldn't approve of..." OWAKCX: "H- H- He seems to have things w- worse than me...I- I want to b- be friends with him, hoohoo..." Sky: "It's wild how we're the same person yet are so different. I can't play any ball games, for one."

Mr. Sun: "Oh, radiance! We're like two stars in a space! How joyous!" Durple: "The fellow is quite pleasant, you know. Nice guy! But...goodness me, his clothes...his fashion! Where's the pizzazz? Where's the fabulousness? If he's a version of me, then he's a rather strange one! Perhaps he's never gotten the chance...? Oh, I must be generous! I will give him a makeover when I find the chance to!" Mr. Tree: "I'm used to seeing other trees, but not exactly another me, so his existence is a pleasant surprise." Simon: "Oh golly-gee! I love other Simon! He's so awesomesauce, and so friendly, and so so SOOOO cool and awesomesauce!! Wait did I say that twice?" Tunner: "Heh, it's like lookin' at a mirror that can talk. A mirror that ain't quite perfectly reflective, but that ain't a bad thing. He's a lil' more uptight than I am, but I don't mind."

Mr. Fun Computer: "...how come HE gets legs? :( "

Wenda: "Oh my gosh, she's like, so adorable. Like looking at myself as a kid, but like, not really? Cause like, when I was her age, I didn't act like that- but you get it right?" Pinki: "She's a sweetie pie! I guess that's to be expected cause we're the same person! Teehee~! I'd love to have a picnic with her someday!" Jevin: "It's a delight, you see, to find someone just like me. Haha, hahaha..."

Black: "...not a fan." Saves: "Oh, he's quite literally just like me when I was younger...back when I was still an adventurous lad. Ahh...I miss those days...those days when I'd...I'd...oh, dear. I don't remember what I've done, but...I know it must've been fun."

Ciqu: "...I wonder if he knows."

Sprinkles: "She's a little bit littler than I am, but that's okay! We still have fun together! I like drawing with her!" Calvin: "Having what's kinda like a twin's real cool. And since he's me, he likes sneaking around as much as I do! He's fun. Wait...maybe I could do the thing with him where we swap places and trick everyone...heheheheh...."

[weebsinstash]

Someone sent me an ask about, "do I have any angsty ideas for yan Lucifer x Reader" and it's like honey I have THE angsty idea. It's basically an idea I've already shared except bumped up to 11 inspired by miscommunication and misunderstanding tropes like in all those manhwa and c-dramas I love

So I guess to just come right out and say it, because the attempt to answer the ask a little more naturally got way too long, my angstiest saddest idea for Lucifer x Reader, one of those really miserable, wallowing in sadness kind of prompts, is: you die, find out Lucifer is your soulmate, you reject him not wanting trouble and also he literally already has two wives and a daughter and it feels, weird intruding on his family unit, but you two eventually become closer and through some alcohol related shenanigans you get pregnant and Lucifer proposes you get married, but a few months before the wedding, Lilith shows back up, Lucifer is all over her, and instead of a scenario where Lucifer is managing to juggle both you and Lilith and Lilith is going out of her way to include you, the second she's back Lucifer prioritizes her almost exclusively, and it eventually leads to you beginning to become so stressed and hostile you wind up getting into arguments with both Lilith and Lucifer, a rift beginning to form between you as Lucifer becomes more upset there's tension between you and his wife, and bwcause of the constant extreme stress and potential other factors out of your control, you wind up losing the baby.... and then Lucifer accuses you of doing something to the pregnancy to get back at him, accuses you of trying to get his attention or manipulate him using the baby, and by the time he finds out the truth, you've already been grieving alone and have completely closed off your heart

I can just picture, how incredibly painful it would be, to not just have to be grieving, but for your partner to basically be saying, "well... haven't you been jealous of me giving this other person a little more of my time? Didn't you do this to get back at me?" when you are literally a victim. I feel like that would be the worst for me: knowing I'm innocent but that someone who is supposed to love and trust me even considered I was capable of such an awful thing. When people reveal they think things like that about you, it damages your relationship, because, why don't they know who you really are? Why would they think you're capable of doing something you're not? They think you're more cruel and inhumane than you actually are? What other things do they think you're capable of, then?

I can just picture.... you begin miscarrying and Lucifer isn't even around; he's off doing something with Lilith and Charlie and you're completely alone to get yourself to the hospital. You lose your baby alone. You discharge yourself against medical advice because you feel like you've truly lost everything. You're trudging back up to the Hotel and Lucifer just greets you like nothing has happened because he doesnt even know, and...

My brain just really keeps making it so dramatic and painful, like, a scenario where before Lilith came back Lucifer would come up to you and say things like "how are you two doing?" And putting his hands on your belly because he with his powers and Hell being his dominion can feel the life growing inside of you, and, after you miscarry he's walking up to you like normal and just, freezes. His mouth hangs open as his eyes drop from your face down to your tummy and then, slowly dragging back up to you

First words out of his mouth, "... what did you do?"

You're too hurt and horrified to even defend yourself as he starts completely breaking down, because for him, he isn't grieving the loss of your child WITH you: he's thinking you intentionally killed it and he feels genuinely betrayed by you. He's thinking not only has he lost his baby, but that it was something you intentionally caused. He just starts screaming all sorts of things and accusations on his grief, "why would you do this just to hurt me?!" "Out of everything you could have done to get my attention, our fucking BABY?!?" "I know you've been jealous of me and Lilith but this?! THIS?!?!" "We were supposed to be a family!!! How am I going to tell my daughter you killed her baby brother?!"

It twists into a fucked up scenario where Lucifer genuinely believes you caused your miscarriage but even through it all he still has this unbreakable demented love for you, and just... imagine after that first day with all of his grieving and screaming that you're essentially... locked away. You aren't allowed to leave the Hotel anymore. Lucifer doesn't take you out. He'll barely come to see you. You basically don't leave your room anymore. Charlie can't even face you; in a way she blames herself for trusting you and, allowing you to hurt her, her father, and... what would've been her baby brother, and this all of course means Vaggie no longer tolerates you as well. The only people in the Hotel who treat you with anything resembling kindness are people who genuinely don't give a fuck about the situation. Part of me wonders if Alastor would be your only confidant, as the only one who would have any skepticism. Since he's so attached to his own mother, I like the idea that seeing Reader be excited about motherhood drew him in more to you, made him more attached and protective, and while he can't exactly do anything to intervene, he gives you the occasional small kindness that keeps you from going completely insane

but you wanna know what the saddest part of this idea I've had that keeps coming back and scratching my brain. The idea that, after you miscarry, because of the extreme stress and trauma of the loss and how much everything hurts at that exact moment, while you are there at the hospital, you refuse and put off scheduling the... removal procedure, and you develop essentially an extreme trauma where you do not want the doctors to remove the deceased fetus because, in your mind, your baby was the only and last person who ever had and ever will truly ever love you, and you can't bear literally cannot bear the thought of your son leaving your body in any other way other than being born and being able to be held in your arms, but... that's not..... viable anymore.... so over time you just start going septic and start becoming seriously ill. You keep talking to your belly like your baby can still hear you. You think to yourself, that you and your baby can rot away together. You'll be together for as long as you can. They won't take your baby from you. They can't take him away. You won't let them

meanwhile Lucifer has been been clinging to Lilith in his grief, yet, she can't bring him the same comfort that she used to be able to; she realizes the power of the feelings and the connection Lucifer has with you, how it's unique and different from his love for her. His love for you and his pain is so deep that Lilith cannot even properly soothe his heart, and he'll even hide some moments from her, too, become a little closed off to her like anyone else.

Eventually the hospital calls, but they call Lucifer because for one you no longer are allowed to have a phone and aren't answering their attempts to contact you first but also, since Lucifer was the father, he's technically involved. Just. Just picture Lucifer in the depths of anger and grief getting this phonecall, "hey sir? Sir? Hospital here. We know this is a time of deep mourning but have you and your wife (he was secretly having them call you his wife long before you two were engaged) decided when to schedule her procedure? This is going to get extremely dangerous if we don't act soon"

Like really just picture you miscarried like WEEKS AGO and Lucifer has been keeping you basically in home imprisonment and you've become almost completely socially isolated and cut off from the rest of Hell and Lucifer is JUST NOW finding off from like some random fucking clerk, "abortion? Sir, no, what? She had a miscarriage, I was there??? She hemorrhaged??? She kept screaming if it came down to her and the baby that we need to save the baby??? Sir??? Have you... spoken to your wife???"

but Lucifer is still in a state of denial, because, once his brain truly processes what's happened, that's when he has to re-process all the trauma and anger and sadness and guilt all over again, so, here he is, not going to you, but to the hospital, and now he's looking at security footage of you being wheeled down the hallway screaming your baby's name.

Can you picture like, the recording has audio and at one point you start to call out for him and you stop, and Lucifer watches as you start praying to God and asking God for help instead, wailing about "there's no soul more innocent than an unborn baby, please don't take my baby, please don't punish him because of me". Lucifer sees that you truly didn't trust him when you needed him most. It hurts almost as bad as the loss of his son.

I can also picture, maybe in your panic and grief you say things like, "please, please save my baby, he's the only person who loves me" or "please, don't let MY son die" or just... lucifer can see IN the hospital that you were already having these extreme doubts he loved you even before he accused you of, you know, being a baby murderer

Lucifer having Extreme Mental Breakdown 2 Electric Boogaloo right there in the hospital as he finally fully processes that you organically miscarried and he like a fucking dumbass accused you of being responsible and proceeded to lock you away and treat you like shit. His brain wants to reject the reality immediately: no, no, he never would have hurt you like this if he'd known!! Why wouldn't you just tell him you miscarried?! Why would you let him believe you were a killer?!

It's way way wayyyyy too late for apologies but he goes to you to give you one anyway, but more importantly, he has to get you treated, and it's salt in his wounds as he has to basically force you to go to the hospital, I mean literally has to drug you or knock you out with magic because you're screaming and howling at him like an animal that "he can take everything else from you but you won't let him separate you from YOUR baby" and throwing things at him and even trying to stab him. Now Lucifer gets to feel like shit Part 3 because at the hospital here the doctors are, "dude she is so fucking sick right now??? nurse look at these charts she has lost so much weight just from a few weeks ago??? bro there is so much infection in her fucking blood she's gonna start seizing or some shit" and it's just, another thing to stab Lucifer in his heart, that on top pf the miscarriage he also had no idea you were sick, or worse, he noticed certain signs beginning to develop and he accused you of being on drugs or drunk and brushed it off because at that point he was so angry at you that, maybe a small part of him thought you deserved to be sick and feel shitty after "what you did"

here you are, coming to in the hospital, kind of in a way re-traumatized because, now you know that. Your pregnancy truly, truly is finally over, that your son truly is dead because now he's no longer even inside of you. Lucifer is, almost pathetic in his desperation to show you he knows the truth now and apologizes and, begs for your forgiveness. I mean, after all, you guys still have the wedding next month--

I could genuinely keep going and going to the point I could just write the fic itself but I wouldn't know where to end this idea outside of, Reader does in fact eventually heal but you're always going to be Lucifer's little wife-prisoner because, not o ly does he just love you so so so much but obviously now he's got uh Some Serious Fucking Trauma Now on top of all his other you know, crazy lil yandere habits, so OBVIOUSLY he has to make up to you all the pain he caused and make sure you're happy and healthy forever right? Because you two are still gonna get married and be together forever right? And.... since you two will be together forever... that means you'll eventually let him try to have another baby with you, right? And.... you'll agree, because he still loves you and you still love him.... right? He'll fix everything, he PROMISES he'll fix everything, but, you just, have to be willing to give him another chance....

[obsidianpen]

if tomione was as popular of a ship as dramione i genuinely believe b&g would be up there with manacled in terms of popularity. nothing really compares to it, it’s so fucking good man

aw thanks anon! I don’t know if it would though, I may be wrong but I feel like manacled had a few things going for it that made it so popular that B&G does not - no reference to hand maids tale, which is also insanely popular and beloved right now; it’s not very angsty (I think this is popular?); it’s a time-travel, which I think turns a lot of people away from the get go… But that’s okay! it is what it is.

also, and I’m so sorry to use your post to rant, but it’s my tumblr, it’s my swamp, I live here - I just have to say that I am at the point where I find some key words borderline triggering when it comes to fandom, the comparisons to manacled being one of them. You did NOT do so incorrectly btw, you did it the only way that makes sense to me. What I mean is when people say ‘it’s the manacled of tomione!’ when talking about a fic, when there is NO reason to compare it to that, and it is in NO way even close to it, in any conceivable level. B&G could maybe be compared only the way you did it, and that’s still a stretch. If a fic is super angsty/dark/rapey/thematically similar in another way, or is literally also a hand maids tale AU, then I could maybe see it then, too. But that phrase gets thrown around a lot, same with words like ‘god tier’ and ‘it has me in a chokehold’ and they just. Kind of make me want scoop my eyes out anymore lol. I’d say no offense to people who use these phrases all the time but. A little offense might be meant. Try some new ways to describe how you feel about a story. God tier to you is most assuredly NOT god tier to someone else. Oh and ‘the Bible of XYZ’ is one I’ve seen a few times too and that is just… awful. Gross. Like what an insult honestly have you read the Bible it is NOT a fun read 0 structure 0 character development for anyone spice is a negative chili not hot at all the pages are made of tissue paper always and the dragons don’t even let anyone ride them (also it’s one of the only books that can fairly be called god tier so readjust your perception of that word please)

[sarcasticace]

Episode 7. Little bit of a live reaction. The opening, very tragic. Very emotional. But the dialogue, I can't help it, its so funny. "Doctor, this is beyond me, but you are the worlds leading most expect. So smart and handsome. And cool too. If anyone can save her, it would be you." I'm exaggerating just a bit like I do, but really.... they were laying it on real thick.

But that's not what I want to talk about. I love how every member of the creature commandos, more or less, are different kinds of monsters. Either literally, they are a robotic killing machine or walking, talking corpse. Or it their nature/origin story are metaphors for what 'a monster' means in our society.

Nina is an outcast. The whole group are a bunch of outcasts, yes, I know, but Nina was born into the world of humans. As was Dr. P, but unlike him, Nina never fit in. Dr. P lived most of his life as part of the human world. He had a childhood. Fell in love. Had a daughter. Then as an adult, he was pushed to his limits. Broken. Had everything taken from him. By the greedy and corrupt who didn't see him as an equal. As lesser. Someone who they can inflict harm onto because who gives a shit about anyone who isn't on their level. Everyone else is less important than the pursuit of profit. And how dare he threaten that profit. Everything was taken from him until the only thing left was his rage.

On the other hand, Nina never fit in. She was bullied. Rejected. Other-ed. Her being a monster is a very obvious, not at all subtle metaphor for how society treats people who do not fall within the expected standard of how we should look, act, etc. I could go on but I think a lot of us here get it or know what that's like. To be treated like a freak for being different in some way that someone doesn't like or thinks is abnormal. Nina never connected with other humans. She connected with other 'monsters'. That is where she finally fit in.

And then, MAJOR SPOILER ALERT, Nina dies. Seemingly. Most likely. Yeah, she's dead. No coming back from that. And as much as I'm sad that she's gone, in terms of the narrative, it was necessary. She was a casualty, an unnecessary casualty, of the actions of humans being awful to one another. Nina was never a monster. Waller was the monster. The princess was the monster. But Nina was an 'other'. She was expendable in Waller's eyes. That's why she was put on the Creature Commandos. Sent off to fight wars that weren't hers to fight. To suffer on their behalf so the humans don't have to. Die on their behalf. also of course nina dies and GI robot turns out to have been rebuilt. now its his turn to mourn her fuck you james gunn. Humans keep on being awful and we monsters pay the price.

Except this one time where the bride says fuck you.