#those ‘are you gay’ quizzes never covered this

[onceandfutureheartache]

stop trying to die for each other!! what are you, gay or something??

[gh0st-t0wn3]

Some Lmk ss edits + Headcanons (Traffic light trio)

- He/They

- Gay

- Only wears knock off brands (doesn't know they aren't real)

- Autumn is his favorite season, purely because he likes to stomp the crunchy leaves

- Adhd

- Has dimples

- Pigsy once got him rainbow shoes for pride month before he was even out but MK didn't realize they were pride shoes because the rainbow was on the sole

- Tried to cook breakfast for Pigsy and Tang on Father's day once, somehow lit the curtains on fire

- Wants Tattoos but keeps backing down because he doesn't like needles (will probably get one in the future though)

- Has a sketchbook fully dedicated to Redson, would literally die if someone ever found it

- Smells like oranges

- Only a few inches taller than Redson, always teases him for it

- Almost killed Sun Wukong once because he was disguised as a spider

- The Monkey's on flower fruit mountain always climb on him when he's around, he doesn't try to stop them

- Had to remove the snooze option on his alarm clock because he wouldn't stop hitting it

- Chicken scratch handwriting, no one else can read it for the life of them

- Learned Spanish in high school, don't ask why it just feels right

- Covered in scars, but 83% of them are from being a dumb kid instead of battles

- Once described Redson's voice as "really warm, like a hug!" And almost got burnt for it

- Love language is physical touch

- Has those really pretty brown eyes, like the ones that look like honey when the light hits them at that one perfect angle

- Has no fashion sense whatsoever, Mei chose out most of the clothes he owns

- Phone is shattered beyond repair but he refuses to acknowledge that he needs to get a new one

- Obsessively takes personality/buzzfeed tests in the dead of night, once pulled an all nighter just taking "which drink are you?", "what kind of seafood are you?" "What type of candy are you?" Type of buzz feed quizzes, and physically couldn't do deliveries because he was so exhausted the next morning

- Has a bunch of plants but is terrible at taking care of them

- Has a chipped tooth (actually Canon, it's on his lego figurine, I'm still sad they didn't add it to the show :( )

- Once walked in on Tang and Pigsy kissing as a kid and was promptly traumatized

- Has no skin or hair care routine, uses a 3 in 1 Shampoo/conditioner/bodywash

- Has really nice curly/wavy hair but straightens it and uses an unholy amount of hair gel

- Has a wattpad account

- Sleeps in literally the most horrific positions you have ever seen, yet somehow never get cramps or neck/back pains

- Once drank dishwasher soap as a kid because he thought it was juice

- Gets sunburnt incredibly easy (if you've seen the s4 special ykwim)

- Mk once accidently threw a plastic bottle in the trash instead of the recycling bin and got lectured for an hour by Pigsy (Pigsy is a huge environmentalist)

- His bedroom is messy as all hell but he somehow knows where everything is (Pigsy and Tang have tried cleaning it themselves but it was back to being a mess just a few short hours later so they gave up)

- He/Him (FtM)

- Gay

- Shortest one in the trio (just barely though). I like to think that the removal of the samadhi fire stunted his growth and demonic development, which is also why he takes so little after his father in appearance/height. He always wears platforms though, so he looks taller than he is

- He was so quiet and sneaky as a child that his mom had to put a bell on him

- Used to wear large combat boots until someone made a "step on me" joke. He doesn't wear them in public anymore

- Smells like smoke and cinnamon, Mei once described it as a 'campfire' smell

- Has really heavy blackout curtains in his bedroom

- Hair turns black when wet or when he's burnt out

- Always has a soft glow to his body because of his fire, mouth glows faintly, hair glows faintly, the more emotional he is the stronger the glow (MK and Mei are incredibly jealous)

- Tension headaches because we all know that mf has his hair tied up in the tightest goddamn ponytail ever

- Has the samadhi fire back (I'm delusional just let me have this)

- Has a habit of stealing his friends and families clothes to wear, first started when he was really little and would constantly steal whatever clothes of DBK's he could find around the house to help him feel like his dad was still there, and the habit just stuck with him

- Doctor handwriting

- Autistic

- Identifies as male but still likes to wear skirts and dresses sometimes (he just like me fr). Likes floor length skirts the best

- Actually really good at art, mostly draws blueprints for his inventions, but can draw people and landscapes pretty decently too

- Has a childhood Bull plushie that he still sleeps with, hides it under the bed or in the closet whenever MK and Mei come over

- has a scar on his back resembling the rings of samadhi from the removal ritual, Mei once confused it for a tattoo

- Mei once called him "Zesty" and he still doesn't know what it means, she refuses to tell him

- Was homeschooled by PIF

- Has a beauty mark like his mom's

- Has the most angelic, majestic, heartlifting laugh ever, but never actually laughs (unless it's his "evil" laugh, trust me guys)

- Goes to bed at 3am, wakes up at 11am type of person

- Needs glasses because the Samadhi fire fucked up his eyes (in Journey to the West, the samadhi fire is described as a flame that, when activated, "shoots out of every hole in his face" including, of course, his eyes)

- Remember when I said he was a quiet child? Yeah, he can't do that anymore, he literally has no idea how to be quiet now that he's older, the best he can do is whisper shout

- Hopeless romantic, but convinced that any and all feelings are unrequited

- Mei and Mk found his baby pictures once, he will never recover

- Long ass skin and hair care routine, will spend at least two or more hours on it every morning, but it's worth it, his hair and skin are always so soft

- Touch starved as fuck

- Love language is gift giving and positive affirmation (WILL cry if someone compliments him, doesn't matter who it is or what the context is, he once almost burst into tears when Sandy called him a good kid and gave him a pat on the back)

- Once he's focused on something he will stay focused for at least the next ten hours

- Loves strawberry flavored things but hates actual strawberries

- Listens to really underground music and has the biggest superiority complex because of it

- Has the biggest fucking bedroom you have ever seen, with one of those really large and extravagant, super comfortable canopy beds, wakes up like a Disney princess

- Usually self-preserving but will experiment on himself without hesitation if he thinks it'll help him with a breakthrough (has almost died on several occasions)

- She/Her

- Lesbian

- Has tons of piercings: nose, ears, bellybutton, etc (her parents don't know about the bellybutton piercing and she doesn't plan on letting them know anytime soon)

- "Hey, Red boy, cool tattoo!" "... thats a scar." (She still hasn't lived it down)

- Smells like freshly cut grass

- Tallest one in the group, idc what anyone says, I just have a feeling okay?

- Adores glitter makeup but can't stand the feeling of it on her skin

- Love language is quality time

- Has a love/hate relationship with her dragon features, she thinks they look cool and she's proud of her heritage, but if her scales get too dry, which happens very easily, they get really uncomfortable and itchy as all hell

- Had a phase in high school where she'd dye her hair everything except green

- Probably also has Adhd

- Avid tennis player

- Hates the feeling of jeans, but loves denim jackets (has a whole collection, plus one that she and MK have been patching together for years)

- Always smudges her mascara somehow, MK once thought she was crying

- Super rough and rowdy as a kid, like I'm talking pushing kids off swings and down the slide rowdy, tackling people in the sandbox or on the school field, girl was a menace to society

- Snorts when she laughs

- MK tried to scare her once as a joke and her first instinct was to deck him (apologized profusely... before laughing at him)

- Most reckless driver on the planet, it's a wonder how she hasn't gotten her license taken away yet

- Doesn't really consider herself close with her family, she loves them but MK, Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy are her FAMILY, y'know? Like Rosa in b99

- Was the first person to know MK has a crush on Redson, she found out when she walked in on him drawing them together, and she will never let him forget it

- Has a normal skin and hair care routine, and constantly tells Redson that he's insane for needing 2+ hours to complete his

- Is the only one with readable handwriting

- Once stayed up for an entire week to play a new video game that came out

- Will smack her head with a brush if her hair doesn't cooperate

- Bites people (gently, its how she shows affection. Unless she doesn't like you then she'll just naw on your arm until she draws blood)

- Lives on energy drinks, her favorite is Monster Pipeline punch

- Has really soft and really thick hair

- Used to chew on her hair in middle school

- Biggest sweet tooth ever, Redson is disgusted by her eating habits

- Goes on early morning jogs every day except weekends

- Sabrina Carpenter fan

- Refuses to watch any movies or shows based on video games she likes because they'll "never have the same charm or energy as the game", but will buy the video games that a show/movie is based on if she watches them before playing

- Will eat random plants all the time. Walking through the park? She'll lean down and pick a flower to chomp on

- The type of girl to carry around a goddamn gallon water bottle everywhere

- Has a thousand fairy lights in her room, it's a fire hazard

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

I think it would've been funny if Mary was on a solo hunt and met Claire, with her curly blonde hair and big blue eyes and tough attitude and wearing a shirt she stole from dean that dean stole from john, and Mary's like 'oh. interesting. I'm a grandmother. nightmare scenario.' and this is post the bmol reveal so Dean is fully not talking to her and she thinks he didn't tell her he has a daughter because he didn't trust her so she decides to get in Claire's good graces. 1) because her granddaughter seems to have the impulse control of an irritated bull and she definitely shouldn't be hunting alone and 2) she gave Claire a fake last name so she wouldn't figure out their relation so by the time Dean figures out they've met Claire can help sweeten him up so Mary can fix things with him. Claire meanwhile is annoyed that this random woman keeps following her around but she's already resigned to the fact she attracts parental figures like a magnet.

so they're a VERY chaotic hunting team for awhile. Mary also keeps trying to needle out details about Claire's life- she figures she might blow her cover if she asks too much about her father, so she asks a lot about Claire's mother but she's very cagey about the topic. then one day Claire let's Mary use her phone for something and she notices the background is a pic of her and Cas and Claire doesn't wanna get into the whole angel thing with this woman who won't get out of her car so she's like 'oh yeah that's my dad'. and Mary's IMMEDIATELY just like oh God oh fuck I almost got my son in law killed no wonder Dean hates me. she's fully spiralling about her kids not trusting her so much they're hiding an entire family from her. even BEFORE they knew about the brits Dean didn't tell her?? she spends all night on google taking like those dumb 'am I homophobic??' quizzes to see if she said or did anything to make him uncomfortable and she literally goes to a library and prints out articles about how to support your gay child. turns into one of those hardcore gay rights moms over night. Claire just thinks Mary's doing this because she's figured out Claire's a lesbian and she finds it sweet.

Dean eventually starts responding to Mary's texts again and Mary just wants to tell Dean she knows everything so they can Properly make up and move forward but all the parenting books she's been reading insist that she needs to let him come to her with this. she starts dropping hints though, like 'oh I'm working with this hunter named Claire', thinking he'll take the bait and tell her he's Claire's father but he's just like 'tell that criminal she has 32 hours to return my ivory grip gun or else I'm actually filing a police report against her' and Mary's not in any place to critique parenting styles but she's like 😬 and tells Claire who's like 'tell him they'll never take me alive' and Mary ends up in the middle of dumb banter between these two while Claire's driving but neither of them will admit they're father and daughter and it's driving her INSANE. she just wants to be trusted!!

skdhdj Claire has a p.o. box and one day they stopped by and there was a head of a stuffed unicorn in there as a godfather parody, and Claire calls Dean like 'THAT WAS ALEX'S!!' and Mary hears him cursing over the other line and after they hang up she asks who Alex is and Claire's like 'oh my sister' and Mary's like. YOUR WHAT.

then all the shit with the brainwashing and apocalypse world goes down and by the time she's back in the bunker she's SO over waiting she just wants as normal a family dynamic as she can possibly get so she makes a big show of like getting Dean alone and she has a whole apology speech AND a gay rights speech that she had kids from a local lgbt community group proof read and edit for her. and Dean king of the closet is like thanks! but what the Fuck. and people are fully walking into the library now Sam has popcorn and Mary's like listen sweetheart I know I haven't given you a lot of reasons to trust me but at the very least you could have mentioned I'm a grandmother, I mean the resemblance is uncanny- and Dean's like 'shit you met Ben? is he okay?' and she's like. WHO?? WHAT? HOW MANY CHILDREN ARE YOU HIDING. And he's like well Emma's dead ('WHAT') so who else could you POSSIBLY be talking about?? And Mary's like 'Claire!! obviously Claire!!' and Claire, who's on the other side of the room yells 'EW?!' in a put on offended tone and Dean's like 'no she's Cas' brat?!' and Mary's like. 'well she's not a nephilim like Jack! I know you and Cas are together Dean-' and Dean and Cas are like. um. what drew you to that conclusion. pay no attention to the fact we're blushing and now refusing to make eye contact with each other we Swear we are only simply platonic friends we are NOT in a romantic relationship. and then Jack and Claire are both like 'WHAT YOU AREN'T?!?!' and the night is lost to many many confusing confrontations. this post got away from me.

[melancholymetropolis]

No Idea

Pairings: Athlete!Kirishima x PlusSize!Reader

Summary: College AU The reader is Kirishima's History tutor and they kinda have a crush on each other. It takes an afterparty filled with horny guys and a skin-tight dress for Kiri to realize he wants them all to himself.

Warning: Do I even need to say it at this point? It's smut, obvi. Kinda unedited. The reader and her best friend are black. Kirishima is a football player; he's VERY possessive over the reader. Her best friend is a little gay for her as well.

Author's Note: This was a commission!!!!! The client gave me this insane prompt and I had no choice but to go over the word limit. If you want to commission me, click here! Your support really means the world to me. Enjoy!

Word Count: 5,300

“You’re back early!” My roommate, Liza, yelled from the other side of the apartment-style dorm room. The sound of her chair scraping the floor followed shortly after, along with the light footsteps of her sock-clad feet. “I left you a plate in the microwave, in case you were hungry. I could heat it up, if you’re too tired— why the long face? What happened?”

“He didn’t show up,” I sighed as I dropped my books on the table and sank into a chair.

“How can he not show up?” Liza fumed crossing her arms. “His GPA is already in the gutter from all the other quizzes he seemed to fail before the semester even started.”

“I know,” I replied in a bored tone.

“He’s on academic probation—”

“I know.”

“One more hiccup and he’ll be off the football team—”

“I know.”

“Not to mention how you practically have to bend backward to make time for him—”

“Mhm.”

“Just for him to flake on you for the third time! I just—”

“Liza, please,” I rose from my seat and stood in front of her. “You don’t have to be angry with me. It’s truly okay.”

“No! It’s not okay!” She stormed to the microwave and pulled the cover plate from the inside. She removed the foil and pushed it back into the device, before pressing the start button four times. She turns to face me and forces an angered sigh from her lips. “He likes you, you know that right?”

I lifted my books from the table and walked to our shared room. I took in the words that she threw at me with each step and digested them. Kirishima liked me. It wasn’t as though I didn’t have an inkling that he may be, sorta found me attractive. Although I wore glasses, I wasn’t blind. At least with them on. I saw the way he looked at me when we were less than a foot apart. Shoulders practically touching as we slouched over the Advanced American History textbook. Our hands brushing against each other’s ever so often. The sparkle in his eye when he looked at me longer than a few seconds; the blush on his cheeks when I smiled at his corny jokes. His persistent tendency to walk me home, although most times, we finished our study sessions just before dusk. The way he stayed glued to my side during the journey to my dorm. How he’d carry my books on the way. I noticed it all and practically welcomed it, since I too found him attractive. The spiky redhead just had a way of making everyone swoon over him. Kirishima was genuinely a nice person, not because there was something in it for him, but just because.

The beeping from the microwave brought me back to reality. I placed the textbooks on the designated space on the shelf and fixed my scattered stationery from that morning. Liza shuffled in with a bowl of baked fetta pasta, and a piece of toasted garlic bread a few minutes later. She placed the bowl on the desk, with a fork, a can of sparkling soda, and my favorite metal straw.

“What did I do to deserve you?” I said with a tired smile.

“Helped me pass ‘Text and Ideas’ with an A-,” Liza smiled back and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Oh right,” I took a seat at the desk and forked the starchy dish in my mouth. “This is heaven-sent.”

“I knew you’d like it!” She deemed walking to her own desk. “I got the recipe from tiktok.”

I hum in response and continued to stuff my face. After a few minutes of silence, I grab the phone from my back pocket and unlocked it. A new message from Kirishima was the newest notification from many and it said:

Hey, I am sorry for not showing up. My teammate got shitfaced and decided to take a dive into the fountain. It took three of us to pull him out. It sucks because I was really looking forward to seeing you.

Since my mouth had already filled to its brink with pasta, I opted for a tight-lipped smirk instead of a toothy one. Kirishima all but admitted that he missed me. My hunch was right: the feelings are mutual. I swallowed the pasta and swiveled around in my chair to look at Liza. Her eyes were glued to her phone, but she snapped her head up to laugh at the content on her screen. Once she was down laughing, I picked my phone up and pointed it in her general direction. Reaching forward, she grasped the device and quickly read the message.

“Don’t respond to him,” she said, handing the phone back to me.

“Why? I thought you were shipping us together?” I asked whilst forking more pasta in my mouth.

“That’s why I’m telling you what I am telling you!” Liza rose to her feet and in a split second, she stood in front of me with a sickening smile.

“I am afraid to ask,” I said with a sigh.

“You don’t have to; I’m gonna tell you anyway,” she squats between my legs and widens her smile. “That boy is already wrapped around your finger, all you need to do is pull away. Just a tiny bit and he’ll come running.”

“Liza. . .”

“Hear me out!” She rose to her feet again and walked to the closet. “Remember when I went thrift shopping last week and I picked up that cute bodycon dress?”

“Yeah. . . ?”

“Well, I washed it and realized that it didn’t have the BODY to fill it out properly.” She pulls the dress from the closet and turns back to me. “And since the Homecoming Afterparty is at the Quarterback's house tomorrow night, I thought it would be the perfect time for you to wear it.”

I eye the dress, taking in its extremely short length and strappy detailing on the front. One wrong move and my breasts would spill right out of it. But, one right move would have them fall onto Kiri’s lap. I tried my best to list the pros and cons of the situation. Pondering what I could get out of the ordeal going to the lion’s den dressed as a gazelle. Yet, all I could imagine was me twerking on someone’s son and taking him home afterward.

💘🖤💘🖤

The dress fit like a glove: perfectly tight, almost like a second skin, but very breathable. I paired it with some hoop earrings, a few bangles on each wrist, and 3-inch kitten heels. My goal was to dress to impress, not nurse my aching arches by the end of the night. The entire ride over to the nicer part of town was nerve-wracking, for one, the Uber driver wouldn’t stop staring at my cleavage from the driver’s mirror. And, secondly, Liza practically had phone sex with her boyfriend, who was going to meet us at the party. I stared down at my phone the whole time, rereading Kiri’s message and the ones he sent afterward. It was true, he was wrapped around my finger. He didn’t double text; Kirishima sent five messages in a row.

Hey, are you free tomorrow? I wanted to talk about yesterday.

I’ll buy you that weird thing you like from Starbucks.

The drink you said that tastes like the moon.`

And I’ll get you those cake pop things.

My heart couldn’t help but flutter; I didn’t know he was paying that much attention to me. I only mentioned that Starbucks drink once in his presence, quite a while ago. It had to be a little over a month ago, yet he still remembered.

The car stopped and Liza popped right out. Her 34 inch Brazilian, straight swaying behind her as she closes the door. Still chatting with her boyfriend, she motions me out of the car with an eager smile. Reluctantly, I detach myself from the cool leather and tug on my dress as I closed the door behind me. I looked up toward the mansion before me, white paint and overwhelming size almost frightened me. But, when I saw a familiar, spiky-haired, redhead, all my potential fear left my body and warmth replaced it.

Kirishima’s back was to me; he was having an intense conversation with his best friend, Bakugo, one of the team’s Linebackers. The blond was so close to popping a fuse but Kiri was struggling to keep from laughing directly in his face. I approach the porch, slow and sensual, my eyes glued to him the entire walk over. Kirishima briefly turns around to address a comer of the group, Sero, an offensive player, when his eyes come up the steps. The humorous expression on his face drops and is replaced with awe. The other two boys look in the direction of his eyesight and replicate his reaction.

“Hi—” I lifted my hand to wave, but it never made it past my abdomen. Liza appeared right in front of me and captured my wrist.

“Girl, it’s our song! Hurry up!” She said as she proceeded to drag me into the house.

“Bye—! Wait, damn!”

Liza pulled me to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living room of the home. She starts to bop side to side, swaying her hips in place. It takes me a few seconds to register that “34+35” was blasting the speakers. Liza twirls around me in a fit of giggles and continues to bop along to the music.

“I thought you liked “positions” better than this track?” I questioned as I matched her rhythm.

“I do! I just had to get you out of there,” Liza answered as she swayed her head back and forth. Which made her hair move in an angelic wave behind her bandeau top and pencil skirt. “Those three guys looked like they wanted to run a train on you.”

“ELIZABETH!!!!” I screamed with a shocked smile.

“What?! I’m not lying!” She gives me a bashful smirk. “You look so good, mamas! Shit, you're making me rethink my relationship with Shinso.”

“Oh my god!” I laughed. “I can’t take your ass anywhere, for real!”

The song began to fade out and bleed into “Pussy Talk” with the infamous City Girls. Liza’s soft bops began to move into full booty bouncing. Soon her hands are on her knees and she’s throwing her ass back on my lap. I press my hand flat on her back and lift my other hand in the air. She whines her waist and looks back at me as her inner hot girl is threatening to make an appearance. Shortly after the first verse, Liza straightens her back and dances around me as I bop to the side, bouncing my ass to the music. A smile comes to my lips as my favorite part plays on full blast.

“Pussy talented, it do cartwheels,” Liza and I screamed in unison. “And he pay ‘cause he like how that part feel.”

“Pussy give speeches, heartfelt,” I continued, popping my back against my friend.

“Yuh,” Liza ad-libbed.

“Said the pussy really talk like it Garfield,” I rapped as I felt Liza’s hands glide up my sides.

“It do!”

We danced around each other for the rest of the song and pulled away from the floor, desperately needing to hydrate. We practically stumbled toward the makeshift bar across the living room. We reached into the cooler and pulled out two bottles of water. We chugged the water and tossed the empty bottles in the trash.

“Only water, ladies?” Mineta asked as we turned back towards the dance floor. “You don’t want something a little. . . stronger?”

“Get lost, grape juice,” a familiar voice suddenly came out of nowhere.

Just a few feet behind the purple blob stood Kirishima and Shinso. If looks could kill, Mineta’s body parts would be staining the marble floors and messing up my fresh pedicure. The poor excuse for a human scurried away as both football players approached us. Shinso instantly wrapped his arms around Liza and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Having fun, baby girl?” His low voice sounded sensual against the harsh music.

A seductive smile falls on Liza’s face. “I would’ve had even more fun if you actually danced with me for once.”

“You know I don’t like—”

“Too bad!” She pulled Shinso to the dance floor.

Leaving me alone with Kirishima. I turned to look at him and offered him an awkward smile. “How was your diving lesson?”

The redhead returned my smile and scratched the back of his neck. “So you did read me my texts? I was starting to think you were mad at me or something.”

“Not at you, per se,” I replied thinking of my words carefully.

“Then who were you mad at?” Kirishima closes the distance between us and puts a finger under my chin. He redirects my attention to his face and gives me a smirk.

He looked good and he knew it. He wore a simple white t-shirt and black ripped jeans. But, he paired it with a burgundy leather jacket and a Cuban link silver chain. He had a gold wristwatch on his left wrist and a simple chain on his right. And his cologne. . . it danced in my nostrils. It wasn’t too heavy or suffocating; you simply had to be close to him to smell it.

Kirishima was playing a dangerous game and he knew it.

“At the people that take you away from me,” I looked at him with doughy eyes and slightly parted lips. A look of innocence was written all over my face.

Kirishima clenched his jaw and briefly looked away. A blush starting to form on his cheeks. “Well, I—. Shit.” He remained silent for a few seconds, gathering his words, before saying “You don’t know what you do to me, Y/N.”

“And what’s that?” I asked while removing his hand from my chin and bringing it to my lips. I gently kiss his bruised knuckles, never breaking eye contact while doing so.

The redhead opens his mouth to speak but is rudely interrupted by a yelling Liza.

“GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE, BITCH!!!! THEY’RE PLAYING OUR SONG!!!!”

While I was talking to Kirishima, the music seemed to slip away. I had no idea what was playing until I refocused my attention on the blaring speakers. “Come on, Kiri. Duty calls.” I drag him to the dance floor.

Liza unlatches herself from Shinso and twirls around me. “I’m not shy, I’ll say it. I’ve been picturing you naked.”

“I’m a little faded, you look like a fucking painting,” I continue the verse as I glide my hands along my body. “Big doe eyes, amazin’. She’s everything I’ve been prayin’.”

Liza walked up to Kirishima and glided her hand along his chest. “Me and your girlfriend playin’ dress-up house.” She pressed two fingers against her lips and poked her tongue out. “I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch.”

Kirishima blushes a bright red, nearly matching his hair. It takes everything in me not to laugh.

I look back at Shinso and he’s just shaking his head with a smile on his face.

“Go get your girlfriend, before she devours your teammate,” I said giggly quietly.

“Go get your best friend before she kills your loverboy,” Shinso counters looking down at me with a smirk.

“He looks like he's gonna pass out,” I replied, struggling to contain my laughter.

“If you think that’s bad, you should’ve seen him when you were twerking on Liza,” Shinso jested while leaning closer to me. “Eijiro looked like he came in his pants.”

I smacked his arm and leaned against his chest. “You’re lying!” Laughter overcame my body; tears were gathering in the corners of my eyes.

“I swear to god,” Shinso struggled to say while laughing. “Then, when Bakugo called you hot. . . Eiji almost went feral.”

“Stop. . . I can’t breathe. . .”

“You better fuck him like the world is ending. . . I can’t keep stopping him from. . . fighting the entire team over you.”

“You and Liza. . . perfect for each other. . . I cannot. . .”

The song swiftly faded out into another. Yet another one of Liza’s favorites: Buss it by Erika Banks.

The young woman peeled herself from Kirishima and began walking to her boyfriend. I distanced myself from Shinso and walked over to Kirishima. I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked into his eyes. “Are you okay, Kiri?” A smile painted my lips.

His eyes darkened and he gripped my waist firmly. “I want you. . . so bad right now.”

“How about we get outta here?” I suggested with a raised eyebrow.

“Go say goodbye to your friends, I’ll bring the car around,” Kirishima asserted with a smirk. He pressed a kiss to my forehead before detaching himself from me and walking out of the living room.

I turned back to Shinso and Liza, who were seconds away from eating each other’s face off. I tapped the loving couple and cleared my throat. They both pulled away and stared at me.

"We're leaving," I said simply.

"About fucking time," Liza replied with a smirk. "You better come back to the dorm in a goddamn wheelchair, if not, I'm sending you back to his place."

"You have like zero chill," I shook my head and waved goodbye.

"Don't forget to use protection!" Liza yelled after me.

A chuckle fell from my lips as I walked out of the front door. I found Kirishima exactly where he said he'd be: parked in front of the massive house, within a bright red mustang. He exited the car and walked around to the passenger side of the vehicle. He opened my door and helped me get in. Kirishima made sure I was buckled in and comfortable before entering the car on the driver's side.

He starts the vehicle, and places his right hand on my thigh. He gives the plush fresh a securing squeeze before pulling away from the curb.

The drive was short and sweet, averaging around ten minutes. We parked across the street from the boys’ dorm hall and exited the car. Kirishima opened my door and helped me out of the vehicle.

"If you don't want this, I could always take you home," he said as he shut my door. "I don't want to pressure you into anything."

"I want this more than you know," I responded while gripping his hand. "But, if I ever feel uncomfortable, I'll let you know."

Kirishima nods and smiles. "Good girl. Now let's go."

The moment his dorm's door closed, his body was pressed against mine and his hand glued to my waist. His lips massaged against my own, slow and sensually. I moaned against the kiss, and pressed my body closer to his. He felt so good attached to me, almost like he was meant to be against me. His searing hot kisses inched down my jawline and to my neck. Kirishima's hands slid up my abdomen and to my shoulders, he slipped the straps from the curved surface and pulled away just enough just to allow me to remove them from my arms.

He kissed the other side of my neck, leaving little bites here and there. The redhead ran his tongue against my collarbones and I swear a flood rushed to my nether regions. Kirishima kissed down and left my breast, gathering the anticipation that swirled through my body before latching his lips on my nipple. A throat my moan fell from my mouth and my legs jolted slightly. My mind continued to fog as he nestled against the sensitive bud, while happily moaning against the soft flesh. I pressed one hand against the front door and another in his hair.

Pants left my lips as I began to squirm underneath his body. "Take me to the bed, please," I begged while looking down at him. " I want you so bad, Kiri."

The redhead detached himself from my breast and gripped my chin. "Say my name, baby." His red eyes stared deeply into my brown ones, taking in every little detail of my expression.

"Eijiro," I said breathlessly.

"Say it again," he broke eye contact and gripped my waist.

"Eijiro."

His hands slipped down the curve of my rear and to my legs. He lifted limbs from off the ground and wrapped them around his waist. I wrapped my arms around his leg immediately afterward and giggled.

He walked further into the dorm room and passed through another dorm. He sits me on the extra-long twin bed and falls to his knees between my legs. Kiri unlatches my strappy heel and tosses it to the other side of the room. While he does the other foot, a smirk presses against his lips.

"What?" I asked while looking down at him.

"I'm just thinking about how this started," he said while smiling. "How my shifty grades gave me the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Stop it," I counter with a blush on my face. "You're exaggerating."

"Baby, I mean it with every fiber of my being when I say this," he leaned forward. "I've wanted to be with you for a while now, I just didn't know if you'd like me back. And I was kinda ashamed of taking so long to say something because you're so sweet and you really helped me a lot with Advanced American History. I didn’t want you to think I was using you for information or anything."

I leaned forward and pressed my lips on his forehead. "I liked you even before I officially knew you. When you beat the shit out of that guy that tried to home a drunk girl."

"I don't even remember that."

"It was during a Halloween party last year, that was when I first saw you. And I thought, "wow I wish more men like him existed in this world"."

"I can't believe you remember that."

"How could I not? You basically saved that girl's life and dignity. You were the only human being in a room full of predators. That's when I knew I wanted you for myself."

Kirishima laughs. "Greedy, little Y/N."

I shrugged.

"Come here."

I gathered the football player into my arms and pressed my lips onto his. Taking in every ounce of his kiss. Sucking on his bottom lip. Slipping my tongue within his mouth. Tugging against his collar to close the distance between us. After a few seconds, Kirishima kissed down my body again until he was face to face with my heated center. He scrunched the dress around my waist and pulled my panties off my legs before spreading my legs wide open.

"Oh… look how wet you are, baby," he kissed the soft skin in between my thighs. "All for me."

Kirishima dipped his head between my legs and took a long swipe at the sticky mess between them. A shiver ran along my spine, Arching my back, I released a soft whimper and spread my legs further apart. He dipped his tongue into the smooth canal repeatedly, bobbing his head as he completed the action. His calloused hands slid up my legs once more and hooked around my thighs. Kiri moved his hot mouth from the very bottom of my womanhood to the top, leaving a long string of spit along the way. The redhead sucked on the protruding bud tenderly; with hollowed cheeks, he looked up from my heat and stared into my eyes. I bit my lip and moaned loudly.

“Fuck, you feel good,” I arched my back against his mouth and bucked my hips slowly.

Kirishima released my bud with a silent “pop” and began lapping the rosy, pink button in great haste. My legs jolted at the new source of stimulation and a throaty whine fell from my lips. Squeezing my eyes shut, I squirmed underneath his mouth, desperately wanting to add more friction. Kiri noticed my slutty movements and began to move his tongue even faster.

“Ah. . . just like that, don’t stop,” my fingers gathered my bosoms and gave them a firm squeeze. The walls of my slick cave began to clench and release themselves at a faster pace. Tingles rose up my body, swirling against my lower abdomen, almost numbing my lower half entirely. Then, a searing sensation ripped through me, causing my hips to raise from the bed and my knees to shake. A low scream left my mouth as I felt the throbbing of my bud increase tremendously.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” My hips fell on the bed again and my legs shook violently. Kirishima steadied them as much as he could before a whole another wave hit my body and my entire being went still.

“Ah! Eijiro!” I screamed as the pleasure shot through my body for the last time. Pants left my throat and short spurts, just as sweat dripped from my forehead. I looked down at Kirishima, who had just pulled away from my spasming cunny. He had a look of astonishment on his face, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. He looked down at my wrecked body, taking in the shaking limbs, the thin layer of sweat upon it, and the scrunched-up dress at the waist.

“You sounded so hot screaming my name,” he finally said after a few seconds of silence. “No one has ever made it sound so good as you.”

“Well, grab a condom and I’ll scream your name for the rest of the night,” I replied with a smirk. “If you can last that long.”

“Oh, baby,” Kiri’s smile widened. “You have no idea.”

He walked over to his dresser and pulled out a box of condoms from the top drawer. He ripped one off the sleeve and walked back over to me. I pulled the scrunched-up dress over my head and tossed it to the side. I looked over at Kiri and he’d already stripped himself of his T-shirt. He was currently unbuckling his belt with the condom packet in his mouth. His massive bulge immediately caught my eye and I moaned in anticipation. Kirishima rips the packet open with his teeth and rolls latex down his throbbing shaft. My walls clench at the delicious sight and I could feel my nipple begin to stiffen

“If you’re still tired, we can wait a little—” Kirishima begins to say before I cut him off.

“Eijiro, stop being nice and fuck me like a slut.”

His lips were on mine within the next heartbeat. His hands roamed every crevice of my body, taking in the soft tissue and stretchmarks lovingly. His throbbing member slowly slid into me with little to no friction. He made sure to thumb my clitoris while inserting himself, just so he wouldn’t hurt me. And I swear, I was seconds away from asking him to marry me. He gently moved his hips backward, and then pushed forward again. Highlighting his first stroke. He looked at the crimson hue on my face and leaned down to kiss me.

“You are so pretty, princess,” Kiri groaned softly, as he moved his hips at a gentle pace. “So, so pretty.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him again. Our tongues danced together as his member tenderly kissed my sensitive walls with each thrust. Kirishima moaned against my lips, as he took in every part of that union. He hiked up one of my legs and hooked it around his waist while he cradled the back of my neck with the other. He looked into my eyes as he increased the pressure of his strokes and their depth. My mouth hung open, and drool poured from the side of it as he kept up the sickening pace. My eyes began to roll back as throat moans rose from the depth of my body.

“Oh God. . .” I slurred as the pleasure increased within my body.

“Aww look at my pretty baby,” Kiri grunted as he rested his hand on my neck. He pressed his thumb between my lips.

I sucked on the digit and looked into his eyes. He moved his hips faster and my lips separated from around the finger. Pants fell from my lips as I felt his member sensually assault my cervix. After a few minutes, Kirishima suddenly pauses and hikes one of my legs up to his shoulders. He readjusts his body, leaving his hand on my neck and placing his hand on my clit. Kiri began to rock his hips in a powerful, but steady motion. He rubs the throbbing bud in a gentle motion, slowly gathering every ounce of pleasure within my body. The pace of my breathing increased rapidly, as the pool in my stomach began to inflate. Whimpers fell from my lips as I gripped the sheets underneath me.

“I’m so close. . .” I whispered through tight lips. “Please don’t stop. . .”

“You’re squeezing me so deliciously tight, baby,” Kirishima grunts as a droplet of sweat drops from his brow. “Milking my cock for everything it’s worth. What a greedy little cunny you have.”

“Eijiro. . . I wanna cum so bad,” I whimpered through pants. “Please let me cum, baby.”

Kirishima curses under his breath and releases his hand from my throbbing bud. He places both hands onto my neck, thumbs pressing against my jaw. He eases his body forward and keeps his sickening pace. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear.”

I sucked in a breath and wrapped my hands around his forearms. I furrow my brows and pant with my mouth open. “You make me feel so good, Eiji. So fucking good!”

“You’re mine, you hear me?” He drops his hands from my neck and presses his forehead to mine. “You don’t get to fuck anyone else. . . . .You don’t get to be with anyone else. . . .My name will be the only name you moan for the rest of your life, do you understand?”

I nod. “I understand.”

“You’re mine and no one else's.”

He pulls me into a searing hot kiss. Drinking in all the love and energy throughout my body. I hook my arms around his neck and moan against his lips. Suddenly, I felt an intense rush of adrenaline pass through my body and everything seemed to go silent. A low ringing noise sounded in my ear as my mouth fell open. I dug my arms into his back and clung to his body. Every fiber of my being tensed and my mind went completely blank for several seconds. Then, slowly, my body released itself and collapsed onto the bed. I opened my eyes lazily to see Kirishima’s eyes tightly closed and his hips slightly shaking. Once he finished his ride, his body relaxed and he lowered my leg from his shoulder. He pulled me into an embrace and pressed another kiss onto my lips.

I pulled away from the kiss and looked into his crimson eyes. “Were you serious about calling me yours?”

“Ugh. . . yes?” He replied hesitantly. Then, he added “If that’s okay with you! I don’t wanna force you—”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I cut him off with a smirk.

“Oh, I was worried for a second.”

“The only thing you should be worried about is your Advanced American History grade.”

“Oh, right. . .”

“You miss another one of my sessions, I’ll ignore you again.”

“Please don’t! I will be present at every session.”

“Good. And you have to be Starbucks.”

“The drink that tastes like the moon?”

“Matcha latte with 2 pumps of chai. Yup.”

“And two chocolate cake pops.”

“Mhm. You know me so well.”

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

august

Summary: August slips away and their summer fling is going to have to end.

Notes: it’s my birthday!! To celebrate here is the august story of my folklore series

AO3

For most people, all roads lead to Rome but for one Kurt Hummel, all roads lead to the mall.

First stop: coffee.

Once Kurt had secured his iced mocha, he began his window shopping. It was just so nice to walk around the air-conditioned mall.

There were plenty of middle and high schoolers wandering around with their friends. Enjoying the freedom of summertime. Kurt was pretty happy to be able to spend his summer days at the mall; almost like a relaxing vacation if it weren’t for the fear of running into old bullies and homophobes.

His dad just wanted Kurt to work a few days a week at the garage when the staff was short but with Finn there full-time, Kurt was barely needed. So, he spent his days off running errands and wandering around the Lima Mall.

There was no way for him to get lost at the mall. One, he had become very familiar with the mall having spent many weekends with his girls from glee club here. And two, it wasn’t a very large place.

Eventually, Kurt decided to splurge by getting a cinnamon pretzel and found a bench to rest. It wasn’t long until a curly-haired boy took a seat at the other end.

Kurt wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say hello or not. They were likely the same age. Close in age and cute. While he was debating whether or not to engage with this boy, he made the first move.

“I’m Blaine.”

He’s now facing Kurt.

“Kurt.”

They smile at each other. Kurt can feel his face getting warm.

“You here alone?” Blaine asks.

“Yeah, you?”

Blaine nods. “Wanna walk together?”

Kurt holds up his half-eaten pretzel.

“Oh,” Blaine says, “that’s okay. I can just…”

Blaine moves to stand up and leave.

“No!”

It comes out louder than intended but it stops Blaine.

“I can walk and eat.”

****

They took road trips together and talked about everything except school. It was so refreshing to have something in common with another human besides McKinley High.

Blaine never said he was from Lima; Kurt suspected he wasn’t since he hadn’t seen him at school. Though, it was possible Blaine went to some private school outside of Lima. At one point, Kurt thought he might have to transfer if the bullying got too intense.

Honestly, it was just nice to have someone who understood him like Blaine did. They had so much in common from singing and acting to taste in Broadway musicals to the same favorite hate-watching shows. The only thing they seemed to disagree on was coffee.

Blaine had a strong opinion about drinking black drip coffee with a dash of cinnamon. Whereas, Kurt always got a nonfat mocha. However, they did agree hot chocolate was the superior wintertime drink to eggnog.

Blaine was willing to compromise in ways Rachel Berry never would.

So, it was no surprise to Kurt when he realized his feelings for Blaine.

Once again, Kurt Hummel was falling for a boy who wouldn’t like him back. This time it would hurt more because Blaine could like him, since he was also gay, but didn’t. Because who could love a boy like Kurt.

****

One day they were sharing a pretzel in Blaine’s car parked behind the mall as they typically did.

“Here,” he says, handing over the last piece.

Mid-chew, Blaine almost caused Kurt to choke.

“Can I kiss you?”

Kurt swallowed.

He must’ve been blushing because his face felt hot. Blaine clearly read the look on Kurt’s face as his answer and leaned forward over the center console.

The first thing Kurt noticed was that Blaine’s lips were dusted with cinnamon sugar. He swept his tongue over Blaine’s bottom lip gathering the flakes before painting Blaine’s tongue with cinnamon.

It was an intense first kiss to say the least. Kurt had always pictured a short peck as his very first but this was better. This kiss was just a few steps away from making out.

As the weeks of summer trickled by, Blaine and Kurt spent their days texting and meeting up to make out behind the mall. They’d climb into the backseat of one of their cars and for the next hour touch any skin available. If summer was good for one thing it was exposed skin.

Blaine often wore tank tops so Kurt became very familiar with the muscle tone of his arms.

Oftentimes, Blaine was the one reaching out first. Kurt found himself waiting by the phone for a text; careful to not have permanent plans in case Blaine called. He’d canceled anything to spend time with Blaine. As far as Kurt knew they only had this summer and now it was August. How many more days would he get with Blaine?

****

One late night in August, they went stargazing. Blaine had spread blankets and pillows on the hillside and managed to secure a cheap bottle of wine courtesy of his older brother. As it turns out, Blaine didn’t know much about constellations; luckily, Kurt did.

He spent loads of nights with his mom in the backyard. She told him so many myths of the sky.

Kurt shared some with Blaine, who had interlaced their fingers. Eventually their bodies were fully pressed together. Blaine was hovering over Kurt, placing kisses along his neck.

Kurt bent his head back to give Blaine more room to cover with his lips.

Then, shirts were riding up and removed. Blaine was playing with Kurt’s zipper.

“Can I?” He asked.

Kurt nodded.

“Are you sure?”

Another nod.

“I’ve never done this before,” Blaine whispers.

“Me neither.”

For two boys who have never had sex and weren’t necessarily prepared to that night, it was always going to be a little sloppy. Misplaced hands, teeth clinking against each other, and nervously checking if something was okay.

When it was over, Kurt pulled a blanket to cover them. Blaine was resting his head in between Kurt’s head and shoulder breathing him in.

“I could fall asleep so easily,” Blaine tells him.

Kurt agreed with him but he was seriously contemplating a different kind of falling.

****

Summer had to come to an end. Before Kurt realized it, he was laying out an outfit for the first day of school. He and Blaine never did have a conversation about what was going to happen to them after summer vacation. In fact, Kurt hadn’t heard from Blaine in a few days.

He texted but went to bed without a reply.

Meanwhile, Blaine was wide awake in his own bed. He stared at the unopened text from Kurt on his phone. He could text back but he didn’t know what to say.

Sorry, I’m moving schools tomorrow.

Sorry, I lied to you all summer.

Sorry, I’m not the person you think I am.

Every single message his brain could conjure up began with an apology.

In the end, Blaine ran out of time to text him back. From a restless sleep to breakfast to rushing to get to his new school on time, he was almost able to believe Kurt hadn’t texted him at all.

As Blaine introduced himself for the first time, his eyes caught sight of people passing the door; stranglers being tardy to their first class of the day. Every person in his peripheral vision made his insides jump. They all looked like Kurt.

Except, Kurt wasn’t here. Kurt could never be here. Whatever he and Blaine had over the summer was just that—a summer thing

Blaine never thought of himself as the type for flings but Kurt was different. He’d take any time he could have with him. If three months was all he had then that was okay. He knew this last summer would stick with him for a long time.

When he closed his eyes, he was staring at Kurt’s blue ones. He could feel Kurt’s fingers dancing along his naked back with the stars watching them.

Luckily, the classes seemed to be taking it easy on the students. Going over the class schedules, future projects, and what percentage of their grade was exams and quizzes. Of course, Blaine played plenty of those ice breakers and get-to-know-you exercises.

He loved those.

By the time lunch rolled around, Blaine even had someone to sit with in the cafeteria. A nice girl named Tina sat near him in history and offered him a spot at her normal table. Blaine had mentioned wanting to join the glee club and she bounced up to him after class.

“New Directions always needs members. Sit with us at lunch and we can give you pointers for your audition.”

He met Mike, Tina’s boyfriend, Quinn, head cheerleader, and Mercedes, second lead female soloist of glee. Rachel Berry soon joined the table and sized Blaine up. She had lots of questions about his range, experience, and if he was a spy. Her boyfriend, Finn, seemed suspicious of Blaine as well. Blaine was familiar with Finn’s concerns.

The pointed glares and scowl were markers of a jealous boyfriend. Finn wasn’t worried about Blaine becoming first male lead, he didn’t want Blaine to pursue a relationship with Rachel.

This was not the first time Blaine was being mistaken for your token straight guy.

The table just kept growing. People pushing tables together and pulling empty seats. A Mohawk boy called Puck was asking Blaine about sports he liked (mainly college football) when two more cheerleaders joined them.

Brittany, the blonde, was intrigued by a new student. She had some record to keep up and asked if he wanted to sneak off somewhere to help her with it. He declined. The other, Santana, was too busy waving to someone in the distance to really notice Blaine at all.

“Porcelain, finally,” Santana says, patting the seat beside her. “Meet New Kid.”

“It’s Blaine actually,” Rachel corrected.

The boy, Porcelain, sat down and looked over at Blaine. Their eyes met and instantly widened.

“I’m Kurt,” he says.

“Hi, Kurt.” Blaine watched the boy of his dreams swallow hard. “Blaine, it’s nice to meet you.”

Lunch continued and no one seemed the wiser. Why would the New Directions assume the New Kid in town had already met their beloved Kurt Hummel? No one's first instinct would be that these two boys shyly watching each other would be “they spent the summer hooking up behind the mall.” Well, technically making out at the mall and hooking up in the park, just that one night.

Blaine tried to participate in conversation so as to not raise suspicion that he was staring at Kurt’s lips, which he was completely guilty of.

Once the glee kids started talking about a disaster of a party Rachel once threw, Blaine is able to tune them out in favor of his summer memories.

Sitting in the dark movie theater and bumping hands with Kurt as they reached for popcorn at the same time. Reaching over, buttered fingers and all, to grab for Kurt’s hand. Being able to catch a glimpse of Kurt’s smile as the movie flashed in front of them.

Lost in his daydream, Blaine didn’t hear the bell ring until Kurt tapped his hand, which was stretched out almost in the middle of the table.

“Hey, time to get to class,” Kurt tells him, “walk with me?”

“Okay.” Blaine gathered his books and trash.

“Where to?” Kurt asks.

“Crafts actually.”

“Oh, that’s just down the hall here.” Kurt guides them through the crowds. “Thanks for not spilling everything to them today.”

“What do you mean?”

“Our summer together.” Kurt’s blushing. “It was special.”

“To me too,” Blaine assures. “I wouldn’t have said anything to them. I don’t really know those guys yet. I’m new remember?”

Kurt nods. “Not new to me though.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Blaine chuckles.

They reach Blaine’s art classroom.

“I’ll see you in glee club,” Kurt says.

“Okay.”

Blaine only lets Kurt take a few steps before he’s touching his hand. “Wait.”

Kurt is staring at their joined hands and examining the hallway before meeting Blaine’s eyes. No one else is paying them any attention.

There are so many words Blaine wants to say to Kurt.

Be with me. Please. Be mine.

Don’t leave. Don’t slip away.

Stay, stay, stay.

Instead, he steps closer to Kurt and cups his face with his other hand. Kurt leans into the touch. Blaine gives the hallway one last look but it’s almost empty. The late bell will ring soon so he can’t waste any more time.

Blaine leans forward and pecks Kurt.

“Please,” he murmurs, against his lips.

Not even sure what he’s asking Kurt for exactly. Kurt seems to know what he means without needing more information or clearer words than a simple ‘please.’

Kurt drops Blaine’s hand and pulls their bodies close together and opens Blaine’s mouth with his tongue.

There’s a bell ringing, which Blaine thinks must be his own form of fireworks.

“If you two are quite done, there’s a class happening,” Blaine’s crafts teacher tells them.

They pull apart instantly, red in the face from being scolded, Kurt hurries off to his own class. Blaine does another round of introductions and can’t remember anyone’s name but Kurt Hummel.

[luninosity]

Today has clearly been a Writing (and not Grading These Shakespeare Quizzes) Day, because...

#

Jason watched Colby. Found himself in awe, not for the first time. Awe, lust, devotion, love: they all spun like tops around his heart, and made it spin too.

 The convention stretched out to engulf them like a slightly over-enthusiastic hug, a tidal wave of sound from the hall floor. Colby waved, one-handed. His other hand was holding Jason’s, fairly tightly.

 Jason waved too, and half-instinctively waited to sit until Colby did, aware that he might be hovering a little but not caring. Colby didn’t mind some protectiveness, especially not right now, judging from the grip on Jason’s fingers; Jason would and could throw himself between Colby and any dangers if necessary.

 He eyed the crowd. Estimated odds, and his own skill set and size. He could take them all. Probably.

 Colby, at his side, put on the brilliant wide-eyed smile that was the public persona, and leaned into his microphone. “Thank you for the lovely welcome!”

 The crowd roared in costumed and exuberant delight. Colby blushed.

 The panel moderator—a very prominent name in the fantasy-loving nerd community; Jason’d heard of him even years ago, at game shops, hanging out with role-playing friends—said cheerfully, “They love you! But this is your first time at any Comic-Con, right? You’re a Comic-Con virgin!”

 “Oh, goodness.” Colby, extra-English and extra-precious at the moment, played up the reaction for effect. It was real, because Colby meant every word and every expression; but Colby also knew exactly what people and fans expected of Colby Kent, Hollywood’s most adorable and fluffy gay leading man. “Well…er, thank you all for helping me lose my virginity, then?”

 That got actual screams. Under cover of the noise, Jason leaned over to whisper, “You enjoyed that one.”

 “I’m enjoying the thought of you ravishing innocent virgin me in a hotel bed later. It’s such a friendly bed, and we’ve only enjoyed it once. —Oh, sorry, was that a question?” This last was directed at the moderator. “Sorry, Jason’s been helping me as far as advice and the whole convention experience!”

 Jillian, on Colby’s other side, gave them both a look that said she knew perfectly well what sort of help Jason’d been providing only that morning. Jason tried not to blush, and mostly succeeded. He and Colby didn’t have many secrets from Jill, and he owed her pretty much everything—the relaunch of his career, the best role of his life, the introduction to the man he wanted to kiss forever—but there was occasionally some residual embarrassment around the knowledge that she’d once asked Colby whether he, Jason, was good in bed.

 She’d meant it in a protective way, he knew. Whether he was good to Colby: kind, generous, considerate. Everything Colby’s former partners had never been. He couldn’t even fault her for wanting to check in; she was pretty much Colby’s best friend and older sister, by choice if not by blood, and she cared.

 He still sometimes winced at the thought that Jill had seen him essentially naked, for sex scenes, and had apparently been reassured by Colby that he was very satisfactory in all ways, though.

 “That was more or less the question anyway,” their moderator agreed happily. “Jason, you’ve done this before, haven’t you? So you know how this goes. Was it Moon War you were here for, last time?”

 Well, he’d known it’d be coming; no surprise. He let himself sigh, exaggeratedly. Stared down at the table for a second: mock resignation.

 Colby squeezed his hand.

 Jason looked up, and said, in his best deadpan version of his Moon Corps Captain’s action-hero voice, “Shut up, son, before I kick your ass to Uranus.”

 That line, as iconic and quotable and terrible as it was, got cheers almost as loud as Colby’s virginity joke. Noise bounced off the ceiling, and rattled from the walls, nearly bursting the convention center at the seams.

 Colby protested, “Oh, but it’s sort of a cult classic, isn’t it, these days—with the dreadful puns, which I actually love—I mean, I know it’s not, ah, perhaps your best movie—”

 “You can say it’s terrible,” Jason offered. “We’re already married, babe, you don’t have to pretend you like Moon War.”

 “Er…I like you in an artistically torn shirt fighting off space pirates?”

 Laughter erupted like lava from a lunar volcano, and ran merrily around the room.

 From Jason’s left, Kim Goh—she’d be playing the young newly-crowned Queen in the movie they were theoretically here to tease, and she’d been marvelously compelling as someone Jason’s knight would swear to go on a quest and seek out a wizard for—put in, “So that’s where Colby got the inspiration for writing all those shirtless scenes for you!” and made everybody laugh again.

 “Speaking of,” their moderator coaxed, with the grin of someone knowing good chemistry and a good panel when he had it, “tell us about that upcoming project, it’s what we’re all here for, and you’ve all been pretty mysterious so far…”

[cosplaydude637]

Special Part 1: Shadow Natural,

The year 2014

So much has happened in the last year. Alec became Console, Clary and Jace got engaged, the war with the Cohort was still ongoing, and little has been seen of the Seelie queen. With all this going on Magnus felt like it was a good idea to take Alec out for a date night to the movies. This strange tale starts as the two men are walking out of the theater holding hands.

As they round a corner into a back alley walking home the hair on the back of Alec’s neck starts to tingle. When this happens it usually means he is being followed. The two men spun around, Magnus had just enough time to throw up a blue flame-covered hand to stop a bullet inches from his face.

Alec draws a seraph blade from his belt and calls out “Cassiel” and the blade shoots out and lights up the alley. Before them stands two mundanes. One was tall with shaggy light brown hair and his gun was trained on Magnus. The other man was short with spiky brown hair and a look of complete shock was on his face as he lowered his smoking gun. “Son of a Bitch!” He shouts.

Magnus flicks a finger and sends the bullet flying back at the two men. They dive out of the way and roll into a ball then jump up their guns amed back at Magnus. But now Alec was not standing there he was behind them and held his seraph blade at the tail man's throat. “Put them down, I really don’t want to kill a mundane.” Alec states.

The tail man looks at the short one. “Dean just kill this warlock”

“I really would not do that. My husband is very good with his seraph blades.” Magnus says smiling at Alec.

“Sammy, why is a warlock smiling at you like that?” Dean asks

“Not me, the man behind me.” Sam answers.

“I mean it, have your boyfriend drop the gun and you do the same,” Alec says, rubbing his blade on Sam's throat drawing a little blood.

“Really come on, he is my Brother. Why do all you monsters seem to think we are gay.” Dean snaps. This moment gave Magnus the opening he needed and he twisted his hand and blue flames shouted out and sent Dean flying into the wall.

“I am so going to kill you for that! And your boy toy monster!” Sam yells and Magnus wiggles his fingers at Sam.

“The only monster I see here is you and your brother. My husband is a Nephilim and a high-ranking one so watch how you talk to him.” Magnus says and is tackled to the ground by Dean.

“Sam, will you kill that thing already!” Dean says drawing a silver hunting knife. Dean however was not able to use his weapon as two long swords were now at his throat. Holding them was Jace and Clary

“You really don’t want to do that, mister. My parabatai really would not like it if you killed his husband and you don’t want to see a heartbroken and mad Shadowhunter” Jace says with a shit-eating grin.

“A what?” Sam asks, shocked, his eyes Widening.

“We are Shadowhunters and this warlock is protected,” Clary says.

“Hold on, hold on we are hunters two,” Dean says holding up his hands.

“You know you're cute and all but I am happily married so get off me!” Magnus yells Dean slow rose as did the two swords. Magnus gets up and dusts off.

“Ok guys let’s just talk about this, we are all hunters here,” Sam says in a calm voice.

“You're mundane, not one of us,” Jace says, looking over at Sam.

“We are not mundane, we are human!” Dean shouts.

“It’s the same thing,” Clary says softly.

“If your hunters like us then you're human too,” Dean adds.

“We are Shadowhunters also known as the Nephilim,” Alec explains

“What the Hell is a Nephilim?” Dean asks.

“There children of Angels,” Sam says looking very shocked now he has gone pale white.

“That’s right, we are the children of Raziel,” Jace says with a bright smile.

“Oh Great, So your dicks.” Dean says and is slapped by Magnus. “Hey!”

“Watch how you talk about my husband and friends. I understand now, you Human Hunters. You're so lost and don’t even know it.” Magnus says looking at the two men.

“Human hunters?” Clary asks.

“As you know, some mundane can see the shadow world. A few of them become what they call Hunters and battle the darkness” Magnus explains.

Alec steps away from Sam and lowers his blade and nods at Jace and Clary to do the same. They do and Dean and Sam put their weapons away also.

“Guess that explains why they could see us,” Jace says and tapes his unseen ruin.

“Nice tat but what’s it got to do with anything?” Dean asks.

“Dean, that's an Angelic Mark.” Sam states.

“If you did not have the sight, you would not be able to see Jace and me. Oh, I am Clary by the way. This is Alec and Magnus.” She says and points out to everyone.

“I am Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean,” Sam says.

“No Way!” Clary shouts kind of fangirl style.

“Biscuit, do you know them?” Magnus asks, quivering an eyebrow.

“Kind of, I mean I thought they were just Characters in the Supernatural books,” Clary replaces.

“I swear to Chuck I hate those books!” Dean shouts

“Chuck?” Clary asks.

“It’s a long story,” Sam says with a half-smile.

“Not that I don’t love all this witty banter but why are Hunters in this city?” Magnus questions.

“Oh we are after a Witch and we thought it was Him.” Dean points at Magnus.

“Do you have a name for this Witch?” Jace asks, still glaring at the two brothers.

“No, we just know she has a thing about using purple fire.” Sam respawns. Alec, Jace, Clary, and Magnus all exchange a look of shock.

“Purple fire you say?” Magnus inquiries as Alec walks next to him.

“Ya some witch been going all over the U.S. causing all kind of crap and we got wind the witch be in new york so we hoped in my baby and hauled ass here,” Dean explained

“Baby?” Alec states looking very confused.

“His Car.” Sam and Clary say at the same time.

“Anyway, children.” Magnus snaps his fingers. “The one you seek her name is Sinira, she is a warlock.” He finishes

“I thought only guys could be warlocks?” Dean scratches the top of his head a quizzes look on his face.

“How very sexiest of you my dear boy. Warlock is a race, not a title. Most of the people you've been dealing with are just Mundanes playing with magic they do not understand,” Magnus states with a playful wink.

“Fine, whatever, I don't care as long as the Bitch dies!” Dean snaps.

“Hold on Dean, these guys seem to have a lot more info than us,” Sam says, laying a soft hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“You guys can’t kill her… I have read all about you but this is one fight that you are way out of your league,” Clary gives them a kind smile.

“We will deal with Sinira, you can be on your way,” Jace gives the two brothers a shooing motion.

Just then Xander, one of the young shadowhunters, comes running up to the group. He looks like he has been in a battle black inking substances are splattered all over him. He doubles over out of breath right in front of Alec.

“Xander, what are you doing here?” Alec looks at the young boy. “Is that icor?”

“What's Icor,” Dean whispers over to his brother. Sam just shrugs.

“Imp Demons in time square… Izzy and Simon there but… getting overrun.” Xander says between gasps for air.

“Xander, why did you not have an endurance ruin on?” Clary asks.

“I did, how do you think I got all the way here from time square?” Xander spouts out fine catching his breath.

“Magnus can you portal us there we need to help the others and we will need you to make a diversion for the Mundanes,” Alec asks softly.

Magnus nods and starts waving his hands around as blue fire comes from them and slowly a circular portal starts to open. Through the glimmering surface of the portal 42 street can be seen. Without looking Jace and Clary darted through the portal followed by Xander. Alec looks over at the two brothers. “Leave Sirina to us.” Alec says and darts through the portal.

“Aren’t imps like little pests things?” Dean asks.

“Yes but in large numbers they can be very dangerous.” Sam replays.

“Umm hello boys. Demons attacking humans kind of in your job description.” Magnus shouts and points to the still open portal. Sam and Dean Exchange a look then jump into the portal like they were diving into a pool. Magnus just shakes his head and walks through the portal.

Time square was a scene of complete horror. People running everywhere and tons of little monsters attacking them.

They were maybe a foot tall but they were in all different colors and sizes. On their backs were small devil-like wings.

When Dean and Sam come through the portal they see that most of Shadowhunters where battling the imps wall a small group are ushering the normal People out of the area.

Magnus steps through the portal “you two going to just stand there or help out?”

Dean and Sam draw their guns and exchange a look then nod running towards the battle.

“Um boys your little pea shouters won’t help here.” Magnus says with a chaser cat grin.

“Wall it’s what we got.” Sam says

“And they have never failed us yet. We found you can shoot most things dead!” Dean adds in very snarky.

“Boy boys boys you have barely glimpsed the Shadow World.” Magnus snaps his fingers and blue Sparks fly out. A long brod sword appeared strapped onto Dean's left hip and two short swords appeared on Sam’s back. “Try them out.��� Magnus wings at the two boys and runs over to help Alec fight off a group of imps.

“I think he was flirting with us?” Dean says.

Sam puts away his gun and draws his swords. Dean follows suit and draws out his long sword. “Hey Sammy look… By the power of Gray skull!” Dean yells out, thrusting his sword into the air.

“Hey He-man you want to use that sword of power and help out or what!” Simon snaps shooting an arrow through the head of an imp.

“Wow, nice shot.” Sam says and runs over to help in the fight.

“I was just trying to….” Dean's face is covered in black inky blood. He whips his eyes clear to see Jace with his sword held out in front of Dean. Dean stumbles back and looking down he sees the body of a imp split in two.

“That sword is not a toy. Use it or get the hell out of here!” Jace snaps and spends on his heels decapitating the heads of two more imps.

Dean's face changes from one of shock into a saturn and determined look and stud back to back with Jace. “Me and you are going to have words after this is over.”

To be continued!!!

[hyocherie]

AtsuHina: T w o W o r l d s (侑日:2つの世界)

Previous: Next:

第1章

1.

"Mommy! Mommy! Tell me that story again!" Hinata jumped and jumped in excitement. His eyes are full of childhood innocence and enthusiasm. Hinata is a 6-year-old lad who lives with his mother, Yui, who is ill. His father works 24/7 to buy medicine for his mother because that's the only thing they can afford. No matter how much they need to go to the hospital, she just stayed at home so that her husband wouldn't exhaust himself from working.

"What story?" His mother asked, messing with Hinata's fluffy orange hair. Her mother couldn't stop smiling.

"The story of the Kitsune princess!" He exclaimed with excitement.

"Alright, alright, calm down, darling," Yui said, guiding the little lad to sit by her side. Hinata sat beside his mother, cross-legged.

"This is the story of the Kitsune princess..."

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Once upon a time, there lived the crown princess of the Inari. Her name was Shizuku, meaning 'relaxing sky'. She grew up with 2 brothers who are twins, but in which they were never found after the Emperor sent them out of the household. This was because of their rebellion against the dynasty. In that time, Shizuku was desperate to see her brothers again, so she rebelled against her family with anger. She broke the rules little by little, but she gets away with it, as she is the crown princess. Then, she broke the golden rule, not to go to the human world.

At night, she swiftly shapeshifted into human and sneaked out of the Imperial House, with her subordinate covering for her. She then found herself walking into a small village in Hyogo. It was nighttime, the cold as freezing as ice, the wind as slow and swift as the cats at night. She strode through the sleeping streets, with her hakama gliding through the concrete ground. She then saw a Cherry Blossom tree, blossoming in the moon's light. She runs towards it and danced with glee under it.

She had a lot of these in the Imperial House, but this one feels different. The peach-coloured flowers gay her in delight, as the moon shone like a spotlight for her. As she didn't notice, a guy stood far away.

He looked at her suspiciously, for she wore a hakama.

"Hey."

Shizuku stopped, she looked at where the voice came from. She flushed in embarrassment.

"Um-hi?"

"Why are you here this late at night?"

"Um..." She couldn't say a word, she can't tell him what really happened or he'll find her crazy.

The guy then walked closer to her, keeping a meter away from where she's standing. He looked at the flowers and held one in his hand. He smiled, she blushed more.

"I remember when I was young, I danced under the tree," He then glanced at her. "Like you did earlier."

"U-um-about that-"

"Don't worry, everyone will want to dance under this tree," He smiled at her.

"What's your name?"

"Um...Shizuku. Ito Shizuku."

"Seiji. Tanaka Seiji."

"That name..."

"Hm?"

"Does that mean 'lawful and just'?"

"I don't know..."

"Well, that what it means," She then stood closer to him.

Seiji then took his hand out for a handshake, Shizuku followed.

"It's nice to meet you, Shizuku-san."

"You too, Seiji-san."

But little did Seiji know, Shizuku found his name...familiar.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Yui smiled, to see her son asleep on her lap. She gently caressed his hair, being joyful that this angel existed in her life. She placed a small kiss on his head and covered him with a blanket. She laid down beside and bid him goodnight.

The moon watched over the two sleeping humans, tears are starting to fall from her eyes.

2.

Morning came, birds singing their endless tune, animals staring to do their morning routines. The sun blinded the eyes of Osamu, who woke up early in the morning to play with Akari, an adopted fox that Grandmama took custody of. Atsumu looked at the sky, covering his eyes a little because of the sun. Akari was sitting beside Osamu, playing with a sunflower.

"Osamu! Osamu!" She called.

"Yes, Akari-chan?"

"Look," she pointed at the butterfly that was sitting on the sunflower she's holding.

"How pretty..."

The butterfly then flew away from the flower, it then rested on Atsumu's nose.

"What's this?" He interrogated, still fuzzy in sleep.

"Good Morning, Tsum-tsum," Akari greeted.

"Mornin'. What time is it?"

"7 am, my darling twin," Osamu replied with a sarcastic smile on his face.

"I'm going back to sleep," he said, walking back into the small house.

"NO!" Akari then stood up from her seat then grabbed Atsumu. "You're not going anywhere..."

"I'm still sleepy, Akari."

"No."

A small chuckle then escaped Osamu's lips.

"Akari-"

"It's already morning. Waking up late are for lazy foxes. You won't have the energy to run and do things..."

"No-"

"NO! Follow me!"

"But I'm older-"

"I'm still more powerful than you," Akari smugged.

"Jeez, yes, God Akari..."

Osamu started to laugh quietly. Things never change, huh, he thought.

Then, someone called from the kitchen.

"Now stop fighting you two and come here for breakfast. Osamu, can you set up the table In the garden?"

"Yes, Grandmama," Osamu then stood up from log he's sitting on and went to the garden to begin preparing.

"Haiiiiii!" Akari and Atsumu answered loudly.

"Now, follow your god," Akari then pulled Atsumu towards the garden.

"You can let me go..."

"All right," But when Akari let go of Atsumu, he ran as fast as he can to his room. Unfortunately, Akari caught him immediately.

"Got ya..."

Akari smirked. She dragged him forcefully to the garden.

"Ow!"

Grandmama smiled.

"Oh, my daughter, looked at how your twins grew,"

She then went back to preparing the food.

3.

"Thank you for the food!"

They all said in unison, while Atsumu said it to Akari. He got a smack in the head.

"Hey!"

Akari ignored him and ate her food.

"Brat,"

"Lazy fox," She replied softly.

"What?!-"

"Stop fighting and just eat," Osamu sternly butted in.

"Yes," Atsumu replied. Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw Akari smirking.

"This brat..."

Their breakfast was still as tasty as ever. And the secret ingredient, the laughs and stories between the family.

Chapter 1 is done! I'm sorry if I took a while...

And tests are done so...I can update as much as I can! I'm already producing chapter 2 so don't you worry!~

But, I would like to self-advertise like a saleswoman here, but please check out my Quotev account. I just like it there than Wattpad because you can make quizzes. And people there find the stories faster than Wattpad. I already have 15 followers there while here, I only have 3 for no some reason. But it's fine, I'll wait!

But I'm really sorry if this is short and all...but I already have the plot and structure of the story. It just might take a while because I still have to search some words from the million words the English vocabulary has to find a good structure to express this story.

But, I hoped you enjoyed Chapter 1! Chapter 2 will be AtsuHina's meeting...

Oof-spoiler.

Bye!

And yes, some notes:

-Akari is two years younger than the twins. Osamu and Atsumu are born on October 5 and Akari is born on February 1.

-Ito Shizuku and Tanaka Seiji are Incarnations. You'll know more in the next few chapters.

-The twins are more than a hundred years old, same as Akari. Hinata is 6 years old, as said earlier.

-Hinata's father won't have that mush storytime here. He'll be anonymous.

-Hinata's mom is made up because there's no much info about her in the manga and anime.

-The gif above is from the Ghibli movie Whisper of the Heart, their appearance will be Ito Shizuku and Tanaka Seiji. The names of those characters are Tsukishima Shizuku (Girl) and Amasawa Seiji (boy). Ito and Tanaka will be original characters based on the movie characters.

-All questions and confusions in this story you have will be discussed more further in the next chapters, also the prologue.

-Kitsune (is a type of Yokai that) can shapeshift.

-Ito Shizuku is born from a dynasty. She is the Crown Princess of the Ito Dynasty. The twins (her brothers) were disposed from their positions as the crown princes.

-Facts: Shizuku's mother is the Emperess, her father is the Emperor. The emperor is the son of the Empress Dowager (widowed), Shizuku's grandmother. The Grand Empress Dowager  (also widowed) is Shizuku's Great-grandmother, the mother of the Empress Dowager. A crown princess could be the spouse of the crown prince or the heir to the throne, or the first-in-line to be the heir of the throne.

(knew this from The Last Empress, what a good K-drama)

-Shizuku's kanji should be 雫, but it's meaning is literally droplet. Changed it into 穏空, meaning relaxing sky. Seiji's kanji 聖司 should mean sacred and precise over, but we'll use the meaning lawful and just for this fanfic.

REMINDER: This is a fictional drama based on the facts of Japanese folklore and the Constitutional Monarchy of Japan.

[sanderssideswriting]

Youtuber Life chapter 3

Ships: familial sleepxiety and eventual Prinxiety

Words:???

first  last  next

Summary: Remy Sanders is a famous beauty vlogger and just moved to LA with his teenage son Virgil after their location was leaked by fans. Remy AKA CoffeeAddiction has several million subscribers. Virgil also has a secret Drama channel, where he doesn’t show his face and uses a voice modifier. He just hit a million subs and grows more everyday because of the level of production his videos have, the mystery around who he is and the fact that he ALWAYS has the latest information regarding youtube drama.

“INTERN!” Remy called.

Virgil looked up from his laptop where he was currently editing his next video. “Yeah?”

“I’m going to take some of those ‘what youtuber am I’ quizzes who do you think I’ll get?”

“I’d say James Charles but ultimately Cristine from Simplynailogical.”

“Why her? She’s a wonderful youtuber, maybe someday I’ll get the privilege of doing a collab with her.”

“Because I personally relate to Ben on  a spiritual level.”

Remy laughed “because you get me coffee?”

“Of fucking course it’s because I get you coffee.” Virgil said with a smirk. He was happy he was off camera.

“Do you think we’ll see her at the next streamy awards? Or Vidcon?”

Virgil shrugged “probably.”

Remy turned to the camera “Cristine if you see this I’d fucking love to do some sort of colab.”

The video continued as normal with little input for Virgil apart from laughing whenever Remy got James Charles to his dismay.

Remy called Virgil while he was hanging out with Logan, Roman and Patton getting lunch off campus.

“Intern! Where did you put the pallet! That pallet you used on Halloween.”

“I used like 3 different ones, which are you talking about?”

“The one with that really nice purple color you like.”

“In the closet.”

“Stop being a smartass, what shelf?”

“Uhhhhh, back wall middle shelf where it’s supposed to go.”

“No it’s supposed to go on the left wall.”

“I was the one who did most of the fucking organizing! I know where I put it.”

“No it’s no- oh wait never mind I found it. Also pick up some coffee for me.”

“We have an espresso machine! Also no! I’m with friends.” Virgil hung up with a sigh.

“Who was that, your mom?” Logan asked.

“No my dad, he wanted to know where I put something and also wants me to get him coffee later, even though we have an espresso machine,” Virgil said rolling his eyes.

When he came home his dad was still filming.

“What are you doing?” Virgil asked halfway down the stairs.

“Motherfucking James Charles made a challenge and I HAVE to do it. Mostly because he fucking said that only the best could. And gurl, I am the best motherfucker!”

“Oh my god we get it your gay for James Charles.”

Remy turned around “What is this slander? In my house? I am not gay for James Charles, I’m trying to out gay him. There’s a difference babe.”

“Sure Jan.” Virgil said going back up the stairs to his room.

Raccoon: Conspiracy theory: My dad is gay for James Charles hiss hiss motherfucker: oh fuck not this again Dukey: Why not? hiss hiss motherfucker: Didn’t they have a huge feud awhile ago because of you? Raccoon: LOL you can’t prove that hiss hiss motherfucker: I have screenshots of you telling us that you did it. Raccoon: Ok so I MAY have done that. but I DID tell my dad, he wanted an excuse to challenge James Charles to something anyway hiss hiss motherfuker: I take it back, your dad might be gay for James Charles Raccoon: Remus is in this chat hiss hiss motherfucker: yeah, you know that Virg Raccoon: he could start a rumor hiss hiss motherfucker: is it that big of a deal though? Raccoon: you’re right, besides your both sworn to secrecy hiss hiss motherfucker: more like a lifetime of middle school blackmail you could release at anytime Raccoon: What? I make sure to keep my bases cover Raccoon: I’m basically SpiderMan Raccoon: but with less morals hiss hiss motherfucker: so Batman Raccoon: no, SpiderMan hiss hiss motherfucker: we get it, you haave a rush on Tom Holland Raccoon: ...

Princey: Hey, want to go see a movie with me, Patton and Logan? Emo Nightmare: What movie? Princey: Knives Out Emo Nightmare: I love that movie, sure

While waiting in line Jack Paul was walking around along with some friends and walked right up to Virgil and the others.

“Got any movie recommendations?” he asked Virgil shoving the camera in his face.

“Parasite. If your not a pussy about having to read subtitles that is. Also blur out fucking faces the four of us are minors,” He said without missing a beat.

Jake was clearly not expecting to hear what Virgil had said and neither had anyone else around them.

Jake walked away with his friends looking shocked, clearly trying to play it off as he left.

“What? It’s a good movie. Also I consider LA youtubers and vloggers to be an invasive species and parasites. I doubt any of us want to be caught dead in a Jake Paul vlog anyway.” Virgil said shrugging it off.

The movie went fine and they all liked it, for different reasons.

Virgil got home and while scrolling through twitter saw it. He’d become a meme once again.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” He shouted.

He opened the basement door. “SOMEONE FUCKING MADE ME INTO A MEME AGAIN. WHAT. THE FUCK!”

Remy started laughing “what was it this time?”

“I basically told Jake Paul to fuck off and called him a parasite.”

“GURL! NO. FUCKING. WAY! I have to see it now!”

“He didn’t even blur our faces. Which is fucking bullshit since I told him to because we’re minors,” Virgil said.

He still had Twitter open but missed the comment.

That kinda sounded like CoffeeAddict’s intern.

Taglist:

@athenashipsthings 

[fangirlxwritesx67]

Paper Rings

au college Sam Winchester x OFC Dani  Word Count: 1300 Tags: none, literally, this is a fluff bomb of cute fluffy love and soft baby Sammy feels, stationery shopping, kisses. *** This one is for the best fanfic reviewer in the whole world, @dawnie1988​. Her request: Fluff. All the fluff. I want to be smothered in it. I’m thinking Sam this time, either canon or canon adjacent Sam or something a little more in the stratosphere of your au ‘Show Me How’ type Sam, dealer’s choice on that one Song Inspiration: Paper Rings by: Taylor Swift *** "There's nothing like a brand new notebook to make you feel like anything is possible, right?" Sam started. Was she talking to him? He turned his head to see a dark haired girl smiling eagerly at him. "It's the best part of a new school year. The new notebooks, the new pens. Even though we're in college now, I still love it." She was looking at him, her dark eyes sparkling, clearly expecting him to say something. "Uh, no." He stammered out. "Oh, yeah, I guess maybe dudes aren't as into that?" Before he could answer, she continued. "Anyway, hi, I'm Dani. I'm so excited to be in this class. Aren't you?"

“No, I mean, yes.” Sam wasn’t usually this flustered. “No, it’s just, my parents weren’t really the ‘back to school’ shopping type. But yes, I’m looking forward to Educational Psychology.” Apparently that answer was enough to encourage Dani.

“Are you going to be a teacher? I am. I’ve always wanted to be a teacher. It runs in my family. My grandpa taught high school, and my dad is a professor. Even my mom teaches music. I want to teach Middle School. I feel like those kids just have so much potential, you know? Like, if you catch them there, you can change the course of their lives.”

“Uh, I’m Pre-Law.” Sam was trying to keep up and formulate some kind of response. “I’m Sam.” 

“Nice to meet you, Sam.” Dani flashed him a bright smile and then turned to the front of the room as the professor walked in and called Educational Psychology to order. Sam was relieved to settle into the familiar territory of lecture, reading and taking notes. It was much easier than keeping up with Dani’s endless stream of chatter. 

At the end of the class, he had to hurry to his next one, which he had unwisely scheduled across campus. But the next time he walked into the classroom, there was Dani. She seemed to have been waiting for him, hardly letting him sit down before she launched into a discussion that covered the last class as well as the homework for this class. 

Sam was surprised to discover, in the flow of her words, that she had an astute grasp of the topic. He found himself agreeing with what she had to say, mostly in his head, of course, because she didn’t give him much chance to answer. When the class started, she responded to the professor’s questions with the same kind of enthusiasm - verbose, but knowledgeable. 

From that day, Sam and Dani seemed to fall into easy companionship. They sat side by side in class, they studied together for tests, and they managed to team up for group projects. 

They were friends, nothing more, but Sam treasured it. Dani was everything he was not: confident, chatty, secure in herself. He could tell that she was grounded by the support of her parents, who were present and caring, affirming her and encouraging her interests. It was a sharp contrast to his lost mother and distant father. 

Sam and Dani studied for finals together like they had for everything else. For Educational Psychology, of course, but also for their other classes, sharing study tips and quizzing one another. The library was closing for the night when Sam stretched and looked at her. They had been lost in their books for hours.

“I don’t know about you, but I can only learn so much on an empty stomach. Wanna hit the diner?” Sam stood up and stretched. Dani agreed eagerly. 

Once they were seated at a booth, Sam declared a study-free zone. He was launching into one of his favorite topics, about how brains need time to process, when Dani interrupted.  

“I agree, Sam. No more school work.” She reached out and took his hand. He startled into silence. “Let’s just talk about us.”

As usual, Dani talked the most, saying ten words for every one of his. But the words he did say were honest, heartfelt. She made him feel comfortable enough to tell a little bit of the truth about his life. Dani listened intently, her expressive face displaying every emotion: sadness, confusion, and ultimately, concern. 

“So the day we met, when you said your parents were not really the back to school shopping type, this is what you were talking about?”

“I… guess.” Sam wasn’t used to talking this much about himself. He felt himself get quiet, retreat back inward. He felt like maybe he had shared too much. 

“That’s too bad. You really deserve better, you know?” 

Sam was unsure how to react to such honest caring, so he shrugged. “It is what it is.” He answered dismissively.  He paid for dinner and drove Dani back to her dorm. Like a gentleman, he got out of the car to open her door. 

He was caught off guard when she threw her arms around his neck. Standing on tiptoes, she kissed him. 

Kissing Dani was the easiest thing in the world. Sam already knew her, trusted her. Kissing her felt right. And at the same time-

“Dani, you don’t have to-”

She pulled back, her hands still locked around his neck, to look him full in the face. “Sam Winchester, I don’t do anything because someone thinks I have to. I want to, I want this, I want you.” 

Sam wasn’t used to anyone knowing him, seeing him, much less wanting him. For a long moment he was silent, leaning his forehead against hers without speaking, their lips barely brushing.

“Kiss me once,” she whispered,  “Kiss me twice, I’ve been waiting for this.”

He knew Dani, trusted her, so he let himself get lost in the moment. When she finally pulled away, reluctantly, the only thing he could find to say was, “Thank you.” 

***

Sam and Dani finished at the top of their class in Educational Psychology. That class was the rule rather than the exception. Sam ended the semester with grades that would get him on the Dean’s List and guarantee two more years of scholarships. That was what he needed, to prove himself, to make this work. 

Dani went home to her family, to enjoy the break and celebrate the holidays together. Sam took an overnight bus to the last town Dean had mentioned, and when his brother wasn’t there, he hitch hiked until he found him. 

Dean greeted him with a giant hug. 

“College boy, huh? Hope you’re not too fancy for spaghetti-os and some bad TV reruns with your big brother, huh?” 

“Never.” Sam answered quickly.

*** Sam moved back to college for the spring semester at his earliest chance. He had kept in touch with Dani by text over the break, so he was not surprised when she returned to campus. What did surprise him was her insistence that they go to Target. 

“I need things for my dorm,” she said. But when they got there, she skipped the housewares section entirely and headed straight to the office supplies. 

Sam stood in the aisle between the sharpies and the binders, taking in the color coordinated staplers and stationery. 

“It’s not back to school season, really.” Dani said. “But pick your notebooks.”

Sam shook his head, baffled. “No, I can get what I need at the dollar store.” 

Dani almost stomped her foot. “C’mon Sam. This is my favorite thing, and I want to share it with you.” She took in his expression. “You can have nice things. You deserve this.”

At her urging, he picked up a few notebooks, a folder or two, and then a set of pens. 

She held his hand as they left the store. “See, now that you have new school supplies, don’t you feel like anything is possible? ” 

Sam took her face in both hands and kissed her, right there outside of Target. 

“Wrap your arms around me, baby boy,” she murmured as she sank into his embrace. 

“With you, Dani,” he murmured finally, “You’re the one I want. Yeah, anything is possible.”  *** This one’s unbeta’d so all the mistakes are on me. *** SPN First Last and Always: @boondoctorwho @dawnie1988 @deanwanddamons @defenderrosetyler @divadinag @emoryhemsworth @fookinghelljensensthighs @idreamofplaid @kalesrebellion @kickingitwithkirk @maddiepants @magssteenkamp @onethirstyunicorn   @there-must-be-a-lock @tloveswriting Sam Girl For Life: @awesomesusiebstuff @lilsylvia @winchesterxfamilybusiness​ Gay Screaming: @boondoctorwho​, @cracksinthewalls​, @fookinghelljensensthighs​ @itmighthavebeenintentional​, @justcallmeasmodeus​, @lastactiontricia​ @mskathywriteswords​, @rockhoochie​, @there-must-be-a-lock​, @thoughtslikeaminefield​

[mysticthot]

RFA With a Crush

happy late valentines day i spent my night writing this and eating chocolate

Yoosung-

Yandere boi comin at u

He gets like lowkey obsessive, not anything creepy but like

He’ll hang out in places you hang out so hopefully you’ll talk to him or at least see him and think he’s cool

Tends to day dream in classes you have together cause he just gets so distracted by you

Has definitely been called out on it by his teacher and he almost dies of embarrassment when you and the rest of the class all turn and look at him

Talks about you all the time

To everyone

His mom gets weekly updates

The rfa all know you, they on a first man basis

He’ll see you walking across campus and he just dies and immediately messages the chatroom to tell them how cute you looked in your sweater

He would be too shy to actually talk to you tho

He’d try multiple times, walking up to you, taking a deep breath, then just dying and turning around and walking away before you saw him

Once you turned around and he was walking towards you, you smiled at him and he freaked out and just kept walking and left you there

legend says he’s still walking to this day

One day he was meeting Zen and Seven for lunch and they’re all sitting down and the waitress comes walking over and holy shit it’s you!

You walk up to their table and smile, getting ready to take their order, when you see Yoosung

He dies when you look at him

Immediately just covered in sweat

“Hey, we have class together don’t we? You’re Yoosung right?”

You said his name and his soul leaves his body

Didn’t think you knew his name

He nods and mumbles something out that not even he understands and Zen and Seven are looking at him like he’s insane until they see you’re name tag

“OH MY GOD IT’S MC.”

“ShuT Up SEvEn!”

You’re laughing awkwardly now, not exactly understanding what is going on cause Yoosung is bright red, his friend called Seven is laughing loud enough to catch the attention of multiple other tables and the one with the red eyes is typing furiously on his phone into some kind of chatroom

“Ok...I’ll give you guys a couple minutes to decide.”

Yoosung has never been so embarssed in his life

He wants to leave, but Seven and Zen are refusing to go and he doesn’t want to leave them alone with you

(he’s lowkey triggered by the fact that Zen agreed that you were hella cute he doesn’t need that kind of competition)

You come by their table frequently and Seven keeps making little comments about Yoosungs crush and you’re blushing cause Zens calling you cute and Yoosungs finna be over that table fighting if he dont stop

By the end of lunch, he’s pretty sure it’s the most embarrassed he’s ever been

But also he finally got to talk to you and you didn’t get (too) weirded out by him

You smile and wave at the boys as they leave the restaurant, and Yoosung almost misses the moment when you wink and blow a kiss at him

He almost passes out

Chatroom better get ready that’s all he gonna be talking about for the rest of his life

Zen-

He is such a hopeless romantic, I lowkey feel like he would be the type to make eye contact with someone on the street then spend the rest of the week wondering it that person could have been the love of his life

He just really wants to be in love

(boi same)

When he has a crush he’s not shy about it

He’s a confident boi so he’ll go right up to them and start talking and trying to get to know them

Next thing you know he has your number and you’re going out friday night

Then he meets you, and you dont fall so easily for his looks charms 

And he’s pretty sure he fell in love at first sight 

You’re his new neighbor, and he saw you out there moving boxes and immediately thought you were the cutest thing ever

He wanted to go help you, but he had to leave for a rehearsal, so instead, he waved and tried to look good while he walked out to his car

You smiled at him then just continued on your way

He was shook, people are usually more stunned by his looks

Thats ok he’ll just impress you another time

From then on he tries his hardest to meet you

But it seems like every time he’s home you’re not, and every time your home, he has to leave

He never gets the chance to talk to you, but he see’s you around all the time

You know how when you see someone and you dont know them you basically build a whole world around them and then suddenly you’re in love?

Ya he did that

Always going on in the chatrooms that you guys are star crossed lovers

“You haven’t spoken a single word to her.”

“Shut up trust fund kid you don’t understand!”

He goes out of his way to try and impress you in those small moments he does see you

He just wants so badly to know you, so of course when he finally gets the chance, he would screw it up

You were outside walking your dog around the neighborhood when he was getting ready to go for a run

This is his chance!

He’s now running towards you, trying to catch up so he can introduce himself

Its like things are moving in slow motion, picture it:

He’s jogging, hair flowing

You’re walking, back facing him, totally unaware, looking like a model

Your dog it turning towards him teeth bared and barking

“oH SHIT-”

Next thing he knows he’s running the other direction from your dog, with you chasing both of them

You finally get close enough to grab the leash that had been pulled out of your hand, stopping your dog from chewing on Zen’s leg

“I am so sorry, I dont know what got into him, he usually doesn't get aggressive like that unless he thinks I’m in danger...” You apologize, calming your dog

Zen is bent over, panting and now realizing it was a little sketchy of him to be basically chasing you down the street

“That’s ok, how about you make it up to me by telling me your name. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced yet, I’m Zen.” Boi immediately turns up the charm of course

You’re shocked for a second, but you don’t really expect any thing else from your hot neighbor who seems to always be trying to impress you

Maybe now you’ll stop messing with him and admit he has caught your eye

Jaehee-

Girl is so busy with work she doesn't really have time to be crushin on anyone

So of course she would meet her crush at work

You were new in the office, and Jaehee was given the task of showing you around

She starts off thinking you’re just a nice person, you would make a good office friend for her to talk with or possibly eat with (when she has time to eat rip)

Then she starts to think of you more and more

She looks forward to the moments when you would walk past her office to use the copier, and you would smile and wave at her through the window

It would make her heart jump

And she would smile back, a little bit awkwardly, and wave before ducking her head back down

It took her quite a while to realize it was a crush 

Its normal to think of your friend all the time

Its normal to want to talk to her, but also being nervous every time she looks at you

Its normal to blush just at the thought of her, right??

Just gals being pals nothing to see here

Sweet girl is probably the one that would look up those ‘do u have a crush quiz’ then she would get to embarrassed to do it and delete the website from her browser history lol

She lowkey starts coming out of her office more just so you will stop and talk to her

Definitely the highlight of her day

One day shes talking with you while you’re getting a soda from the vending machine, when you mention how you’ve started watching some musicals she recommended 

Girls just

cums

She invites you over to watch some of Zen’s videos before she can even realize what she’s doing

You say sure and that you would see her after work before skipping off to your desk

She’s left there shook

Did she actually just invite you to hang out with her??

At her house???

God she hoped this was a date

She returns to her office to find Jumin waiting for her, he does not look amused

“Assistant Kang, I’ve been waiting.”

“Oh sorry Sir, I was just-”

“Flirting with Ms. MC?”

She shook

Boi just gonna call her out like that??

How does he even know what flirting is this boi supposed to be a robot how he know what a gay is????

(oh ya does jumin han is gay thats how)

“She’s been distracting you long enough, just ask her out and get it over with.”

The last thing she expected coming into work today was getting a date and advice on her love life from none other than Jumin Han

But, at least she has that date

Jumin-

Jumin Han does not get crushes.

Or, at least he hasn’t had one yet

He’s so out of touch with his emotions, he would prolly think he was dying or something if he had a crush

Lmao Jumin would take of one those do you have a crush quizzes but unlike jeahee he has no shame so he would send her the results and have her type up a report rip

He met you in the absolute last place he would have ever expected to meet someone

Knocking on Assistant Kang’s door, Elizabeth in hand, he was shocked to find not Assistant Kang at the other side 

He’s immediately sizing you up, you look like a normal girl in your pajamas, but you don’t look like you could be a relative of Jaehee, so why are you here

He doesn’t have the chance to ask before you’re gushing over his cat

He’s pleasantly surprised at how you call her beautiful and ask for her name and gently pet her head

He was hesitant to let your touch her, but you had asked first and Elizabeth was purring so he allowed it

You were talking about her breed when Jaehee came walking into the living room

Immedietly triggered by the way Jumin is not only smiling at you, but the fact that he’s letting you touch Elizabeth

“Oh, hello Mr Han, I see you’ve met my friend MC.”

Jaehee has friends?

He kinda wants to stay and talk about cats with you, but he had a plane to catch, so he leaves Elizabeth in Jaehee’s care and turns to leave

“Bye Jumin, have a good flight, nice to meet you!” You called after him, waving.

He awkwardly waved back before turning and walking away

This was a strange feeling

He spent his entire trip thinking about you

It was honestly an inconvenience for him, and he did not appreciate the fact that thoughts of you made a weird feeling happen in his stomach

Not having it

When he got back, he had the driver stop by Jaehee’s to pick up Elizabeth

He refused to admit to himself it was because he wanted to see you, but he was a bit disappointed when you weren't there

He didn’t see you for quite a while, and he had almost managed to get you out of his head, when he heard a familiar voice in the office

For a moment he thought he imagined it, until he looked up and saw you standing near his office looking lost

He was out of his chair before he really knew what he was doing, then he stopped and composed himself before walking out to you

You were asking one of his workers for directions to Jaehee’s office when you saw him

You immediately smiled and walked over, happily greeting him

He could see the surprised looks on the employees as he greeted you and offered to walk you to Jaehee’s office

You chatted with him asking about his day and his cat, and he was pleasantly surprised at how he actually enjoyed talking to you

You didn’t talk to him like he was some big CEO, or a trust fund kid, or your boss, you just talk to him and smiled

He liked your smile

The talk was cut short then Jaehee found the two of you, giving a strange look between her boss and best friend

She’d never seen him look at someone like that, other than Elizabeth

“Ok...come on MC, time to go!”

She skirting you the fuck out of there

Jumin is strugglin

If he thought his little crush was bad before, it was excruciating now

But he didn’t seem to mind it as much

He just wanted to talk to you

But he only knew you through Jaehee

So suddenly he became even more present in his assistants life

Randomly stopping by her desk

Calling her for seemingly no reason

She drew the line when he started showing up at her house for vague business related things 

“Mr Han. Why do you keep coming here.” She sighed, it was 10 at night and he had interrupted one of Zens videos

“I need you to sign this.”

“And that cant wait till tomorrow in the office?”

“I suppose it could, I figured you would just want to get some work done.”

“...Mr Han why do you keep coming here?”

He admits he wants to talk to you

Jaehee dies a little inside

Why is this happening

But she cant hide from him the fact that you have been talking about him as well

She agrees to give him your phone number if he will leave her alone

She cant believe she just set up her boss with her best friend

What has life come to?

707/ Saeyoung-

God he’s such a spaz (the ideal boi tbh)

If he had a crush the whole world and his crush would know it

He met you at a coffee shop, him and Saeran were waiting for drinks when you came walking out of the back room, in a little apron with the coffee shops logo on it

He falls out of his chair

“ohmygodsearan look at her! She’s like a star princess and I’m the star prince and were gonna fly off into the stars and-”

“Get off the ground what’s wrong with you? And lower your voice the whole god damn place can hear you!”

He can see you biting back a smile as you call out his and his brothers names

They go get their coffees and, but he’s pulled off by his brother before anything can be said to you

He’s about to complain, before he sees on his cup you had crossed out his name and written star prince in it’s place with a little heart

Literally screams

From then on he goes to your coffee shop all the time

Boi becomes a regular and he’s known for relentlessly flirting with you every time he comes in

He always has a new pick up line and you always have a new name for his cup

He tired to collect the cups but Vanderwood nearly tased him for the mess it made

Speaking of Vanderwood, that boi knows all about you

Him and Saeran never escape his ramblings about you

Unlike the rfa who can just leave the chatroom, his voice is inescapable

He cant help it tho

At first he was just thinking you were cute, but the more he actually talked to you, the more he liked you

You laugh at his jokes and make puns back at him and he just thinks you’re so sweet

You like him too, but he’s never actually asked for your number or anything, so you’re not sure if he’s ever gonna go past just playful flirting

It actually takes the help of Saeran to get you two together

It was one of the rare moments when Saeran wasn’t out with his brother, but he still ended up in your coffee shop, mostly out of habit

You smiled when you saw him, greeting him and getting started on his normal drink 

He watched you work, and you made pleasant conversation with him despite his short answers

Saeyoung had been kinda down lately, he had fallen back into one of his depressive states, so he hadn’t been in for a while, but he simply told you he was sick when you asked

He really did want his brother to be happy, and even though he acted like an idiot, he really did like you

So he decided to help his brother out

“Here,” he handed you a slip of paper, “Saeyoung has been feeling...under the weather, he would love to hear from you. I know he’s a fucking dork, but he really does like you so...be nice.”

He grabbed his drink and immediately left you with the phone number, a small smile on your lips

You would never have been able to guess the volume of the scream that came from Saeyoungs room when he got that text

Vanderwood looked at Saeran

“What have you done...”

V/ Jihyun-

He’s so soft

Thinks you’re so sweet and cute and wants to hold your hand

Blushes so hard whenever you’re around

You work at an art gallery that frequently shows his paintings and he just loves how you’re so passionate about your work

You complement him on his art, and he’s out for the rest of the day, boi cant handle it

Jumin’s the only one who knows about his crush 

He had gone with V to unveil some of his art, and immediately noticed how his friend was acting off

He was kinda spacey

Looking around, fidgeting with his hair and clothes

Then you walked in, and Jumin watched as his friend was instantly drawn to you

He was almost inching his way towards you, trying to make it look causal

But he just looked very nervous

Then you noticed him and came over to say hi and introduce yourself to Jumin

V is smiling at you looking all love sick

And Jumin just has this shit eating grin on his face cause he knows what’s goin on

He excuses himself to let you and V be alone but it doesn’t last long cause boi quickly gets shy being alone with you and goes back to join Jumin

You just make him nervous

He’s not used to feeling this way, its been a while and he just doesn’t know how to act

“That was quite a display.” Jumin smirked

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh please, everyone in that art museum can see how much you like that girl.”

That just makes him more nervous around you

Can you tell??

Do you know how much he likes you???

He starts associating you with painting, and he ends up painting you

Quite a few times actually

Then he feels like a creep

So he paints over them

Then the whole thing just starts again

It would take him so long to confess to you if you didn’t make the first move

Cause my boi is just so insecure

Some one just give him a hug pls he needs it

Saeran-

You know how when little boys get a crush they pick on them and tease them?

Well this boi is always pulling on your pigtails

Because of his brother, he hangs around the rfa a lot, so he sees you a lot

And he does not appreciate how you make him nervous

Or how you can talk to him so easily while he gets chocked up and can barely say hi

And he really doesn’t like how you make him blush

So he’s so grumpy around you

But you’re still nice to him and it just makes him more grumpy cause he ends up feeling bad for being so grumpy

Seven notices right away

“Awww does my little brother have a little crush on MC? That’s so cute!”

“Shut the fuck up.”

He slowly gets over the whole angry crush thing when he realizes he cant keep being mean to you

His therapist keeps telling him to let people in, and that if he likes you he should show his feelings rather than push them away

So he makes an effort to be nicer to you

He hangs around you when the rfa gets together

And he participates in the conversations that you always try to have with him

And you guys become actual friends

And you hang out with him and his brother outside of the rfa get togethers

And he’s regretting his life choices because now it’s so much harder for him to ignore his little crush on you

And Seven is always teasing him

He’s triggered

He’ll basically just go through periods of pushing you away then letting you back in then pushing you away again

But you know how hard things are for him, and you continue to be so nice

And he just wants to be with you all the time 

Life is hard

He tried to show his feelings for you, but it always come out wrong

Boi tried to make you dinner, sets a fire in the bunker

Tried to buy you a present, got angry while trying to wrap it and broke it

Tries to ask you out on a date but gets embarrassed and accidentally ends up kicking you out of his house

It be like that sometimes

And Seven is just so over watching his brother be an idiot, even if it does make for good teasin material

So he takes things into his own hands

He invited you over to watch a movie with him and his brother, picked out a film with a pretty long sex scene, then mysteriously disappears

Saeran is mortified

His face is as red as his brothers hair and your sitting next to him with the same wide eyed panicked look while some actress moans excessively on the screen

He doesn’t know what to do so he just gets up and leaves

So you there just watching porn in their living room alone

Of course thats when Vanderwood makes his appearance

Saeran didn’t see you for a while after that incident

Until Seven dragged him to an rfa lunch and you were there and you looked so cute and you still smiled and talked to him even after what had happened

So finally, he just gathers up the courage and blurts out

“Do you want to go get ice cream with me!”

It was more of a loud statement than a question and his face is so red and his hands are shaking

But you’re smiling at him and holding his hand and you’re so soft and warm

“I’d love to Saeran.”

EDIT- i did Vanderwoods too so here it is!!

God im so in love with these boi’s

thanks for reading!!

[prince-claremont-diaz]

from outside looking in

An introspection into isolation, finding yourself and finding your people.

Or essentially, a stream of consciousness about Arthur's life leading up to the events of the season 5 trailer.

Warnings: internalised homophobia, general angst

Word count: 2.4k

Ao3 version

Yes, I wrote an Arthur fic because why the fuck not

For as long as he could remember, Arthur had felt like an outsider. When he was little, he used to play with his action figures alone on the playground, launching them off the swings or scrambling up trees and slides to pretend he was way up high in outer space, simply looking down at the rest of the world. He read comics and books and kept to himself for the most part. As he grew up, his classmates laughed at him for his 'toys' and 'picture books', on one occasion going so far as to flush one of his comics down a toilet. He knew there was something about him that generally kept others away from him, knew he didn't quite act or feel like the rest of them.

Like an alien sent right from one of his stories.

When Arthur first met Basile, however, it was the first time he felt like he belonged.

They met when they were 10 years old, when Basile transferred to his school after moving to the area. Arthur remembered the day vividly. It was the first day back at school and his dad had dropped him off on his way to work early, so he was one of the only kids that had arrived yet. He had been sitting alone at his new desk, flicking through his Hawkeye comic, idly glancing at the other kids chatting at another table when the door to the classroom unceremoniously burst open. With a tiny, high pitch yelp, somebody stumbled into the room, nearly taking out another desk on their descent to the floor. Arthur put his comic down as he watched the newcomer, who had wild curly black hair, getting awkwardly to his feet.

The now familiar bright grin immediately met Arthur from across the room. Dressed in an ill fitting Star Wars t-shirt and sporting a too-big orange backpack, the new boy immediately started walking over to Arthur, ignoring the jeers of the other classmates. He stopped in front of Arthur's desk and held out a marker-covered hand, grinning. "Hi! I'm Basile! But you can call me Baz! I like your comic, too. Can I sit here?" the boy babbled away, already sitting down in the seat opposite Arthur.

Arthur had nodded, his own wide grin melting over his face. "Thanks! I like your shirt!" he exclaimed, pointing at the other boy's t-shirt.

And from then on, Arthur had one other person in his life to keep him company.

For a while, Arthur tried to ignore most of the other people around him. He had Baz, so why should he care about everyone else? Why should he worry about the rest when he was playing video games or watching movies or discussing comic books with his best friend? It was easy to brush away the comments about his glasses or his comics if he just focused on the person that actually liked him. Baz was virtually the only person he cared about and he cared enough for the rest of the planet.

But as he got older, the retorts became harder and harder to let go. The name calling turned from "Four eyes" to whatever slurs they could come up with, chasing him down with jeers and taunts he had no choice but to listen to. Flushing his comics or throwing his action figures turned into pushing him into the lockers or throwing things at him.

It is almost impossible to ignore what stares you right in the face, after all.

The question of "am I gay?" swirled around Arthur's mind for years. Whenever he caught himself looking at Baz for too long or caring a bit too much about a male character, the smallest of voices wondered somewhere in the back of his head whether it was true. Was he gay? Or did everyone else look at their friends the way Arthur did with Baz?

His browsing history was meticulously deleted, all of his secrets hidden away in the depths of the internet where no one else would ever find them. He never lingered long on websites, always sure to keep safer tabs open should someone come into his room without warning. He only ever searched up the burning question or scrolled through the endless chat rooms in the dead of night, looking for the answers in the depth of internet forums and 12 question quizzes. He felt like he was on some quest to find an answer that he was simply keeping from himself, never fully allowing himself the truth.

Soon enough, Arthur couldn't handle it anymore. He hated himself when he caught himself daydreaming about his close friend, cursed himself for being a 'pervert'. He wasn't gay, surely. He'd had crushes on girls, after all. That meant he was straight, right?

Instead of acting on anything or letting himself even look at Baz, Arthur hid away. He spent his lunch periods in the school library, avoiding his friend in the halls in favour of keeping his nose tucked into the latest comic books. He took the long way to and from school to avoid walking the same way as Basile, ducking through side streets and crossing the street with abandon. Whenever Baz tried to talk to him, he shrugged him off, insisting he was busy with school work. His heart raced every time he saw the dark curls at the other end of the hall going to class, dread overflowing his body like a broken tap, shoving him into the corner of the hallway to avoid being seen by his friend.

It is agony to avoid the unavoidable magnetic pull of longing.

"Arthur? Can we talk?"

It had been in the middle of November, the wind unusually violent and unforgiving, rattling the windows of the small cafeteria. Arthur was sitting at one of the big circular tables by himself, poking half heartedly at his lunch, feeling light years away from the rest of the tables in the room. When he looked up to his name, his heart dropped as he made eye contact with a pair of familiar, sad brown eyes standing over him. Arthur had never seen Baz looking so forlorn, like a kicked puppy, clutching his green lunch bag with an iron grip.

Before he could dismiss him, Baz dropped into the seat next to him, dropping his lunch onto the table and pulling out his food. "Baz, what are you—" he had started, glancing over at the sandwich in an attempt to avoid looking up into those damn eyes.

"You're avoiding me," Basile blurted, "Why? I thought we were friends." Arthur glanced up finally, feeling his face flush at the look Baz was giving him. His eyebrows were knitted together and his bottom lip trembled in a frown like Arthur had never seen.

"We are friends," he insisted, "And I'm not avoiding you. I've just been busy."

"You won't even look at me anymore," Baz whined, taking a bite of his sandwich. "I know I'm not the smartest–everyone always reminds me–but I can tell you've been avoiding me for weeks. Just tell me why and I'll leave you alone for good."

But Arthur couldn't tell Basile why he had been avoiding him. He could barely admit to himself just why he felt the need to avoid the only person who had ever made him feel less alone. Deep down, he knew exactly why he forced himself to look away, forced himself to stay away.

But despite this, Basile was his best friend. Neither of them had any other friends besides each other and in his pathetic self-isolation to avoid his own feelings which were staring right at him, Arthur had ultimately abandoned Baz. Baz, who had treated him with nothing but kindness since the day he literally fell right into Arthur's life. Baz, who liked the same things as him and let him talk about his silly fantasies and hobbies. Baz, who never ever judged him for anything at all.

"I'm sorry," Arthur had said that day, swallowing back tears and forcing himself to look into those bright brown eyes he loved yet hurt him so much. "I-I can't explain why, but I'm sorry for avoiding you. You of all people don't deserve that."

No matter what, Arthur knew he couldn't just leave Basile just because he couldn't handle his own feelings. And so, he stopped avoiding Baz. He let them go back to normal, going over to each other's houses to play video games or rewatch movies, bickering about their favourite characters over lunch. He talked to Basile about the pretty girls in their school and let Basile plot out his futures with them, pretending he didn't think it was futile. He vowed to never let his emotions get the best of him. He prioritised their friendship over whether or not he did in fact have a crush on Baz. They had more important things to worry about like going to Lycée in a few months and going to a new school again. It did not matter if he thought Basile's eyes looked nice the way they seemed to glow in the sunlight or his desire to touch his hair or hug him. What mattered was that Baz was still his friend, despite him acting like a dick for weeks.

When they went off to Lycée together, picking different classes from each other, of course their dynamic changed slightly. That had been expected. They no longer shared as many classes together or had time to just play video games together. Basile talked and talked and talked about the hot girls in the years above or the girls he was crushing on for weeks, hardly seeming to notice that Arthur never contributed more than advice and support. They both made friends in other classes, spending more time with them than each other.

Slowly, as Arthur got more used to his new school and new people everywhere, he started to feel better about himself. Sure, he was still a bit of a nobody, mostly drifting from group to group, never quite a part of things. But he still had Basile and he liked his classes enough to get by.

One night, buried beneath his bedsheets, Arthur stumbled upon an article which changed his entire life. Hunched over his laptop, scrolling through the billionth website that night, his jaw dropped. His heart hammered against his chest, blood rushing past his ears and a gasp falling from his lips as he read.

Bisexuality is the sexual or romantic attraction to both men and women or to two or more genders.

With this newfound knowledge, Arthur continued to keep it private. He held the word deep inside his chest, locked away for safekeeping, only to be released in the darkest of nights. He whispered it to himself in the mirror, muffled by the rushing water of the sink, shrouded by the midnight stars twinkling above. He saw blue and purple and pink in everything, in every sunrise and sunset, in every rainbow and article, allowing himself only the smallest of glances. He kept the word safe from the rest of the world, blanketing it and boxing it away with the rest of his old yet sacred possessions.

Even as he kept his secret to himself, he slowly, gradually learned to accept himself. He wasn't wrong for how he felt. He allowed himself to be closer, to reach out and touch, to tease and to smile. He no longer held back as much, caving into his near constant desire to touch. And Baz didn't seem to mind, so what was the harm?

In their second year of lycée, he and Basile befriended Lucas and Yann. He sat next to Lucas in a few of his classes, sharing jokes about their teachers or whispering about the homework. Yann was also a delight, teaching him to skateboard and always lending a helping hand.

Arthur even befriended Alexia, whom he was forced to sit next to in Biology. She was a whirlwind with colourful hair and a friendly smile, making jokes left and right, sending his heart out the window. She was caring and energetic, far more intelligent than he was and beautiful.

Of course, Arthur couldn't stay away from his sexuality forever. When his close friend Lucas came out as gay and suddenly he had a new pansexual friend from the year above, Eliott, it was unavoidable to think about. Alexia talked about being bi often as well, making his whole face flush violently every time. Sexuality and attraction were common topics of conversation in their friend group these days.

When Alexia kissed him on the dance floor at Daphné's party, Arthur felt his entire body erupt at every nerve ending, a force so powerful he could taste static. It was the softest and the shortest of kisses, but it felt like belonging. Arthur could barely believe his luck, holding on tighter to her like he would lose her if he wasn't careful. For weeks afterwards, through flirting and teasing, Arthur fell harder and harder for her, finally getting the guts to kiss her again at Imane's party. And she had kissed him right back.

With Alexia, Arthur no longer felt the need to hide or to repress. He could be open and honest with her, knowing she wouldn't judge him. He no longer felt constantly on edge because of the potential disaster of Baz finding out about his feelings or of the potential reaction of their friends, seeing how they had reacted to Lucas and Eliott. Alexia was special and she liked him for who he was and Arthur could only thank the universe every time he had the luck to even be in her presence.

And now, as he was dancing the night away, preparing to count down to yet another year, yet another decade, Arthur looked around the crowded room. He looked at his gorgeous girlfriend Alexia as she danced with Daphné and Imane and he looked at Lucas and Eliott so captivated and entangled together. He looked at Yann and Emma jumping around as they talked and he turned to Baz as he moved closer. They danced together briefly, smiling, closer than his younger self would ever have imagined.

He looked through the blinding white strobe lights and the flood of blue, grinning around at his friends. He thought back to his entire life and as he looked around the room, he felt a lot less like an outsider than before.

[moonlight-ghoulette]

Happy birthday @arentiaclevergirl! As promised, here is your fake relationship ficlet as my gift to you :)

“A work party?” Rhett asked incredulously, mouth full of toast, eyebrows pulled together in confusion. Link crumpled down into the chair at the opposite end of the table. “I thought you said you weren’t ever going to bother going to any of ‘em, and now suddenly I have to go too?”

“I know, I know. I just, I kind of have to go now.” Link sighed, arms splayed over the table in front of him.

“But what’s that got to do with me then?”

Link dropped his head to the table between his outstretched arms.

“I dug myself into a hole and I need your help. Just this once”

Rhett paused, putting his toast down, staring hard at Link. Link wearily lifted his head, grimacing apologetically at his roommate and best friend of too many years to count, inhaling deeply in preparation for his monologue that he was sure was only going to piss Rhett off.

“I’ve told you about Caitlyn, yeah?”

Rhett nodded slowly, his face still twisted in confusion.

“How she’s been non-stop tryin’ to get me to go out to lunch together on break, inviting me out for drinks after work, constantly touching me when we talk, breathin’ down my neck any moment she can? Well, I… I told her I was gay?”

Rhett nearly choked on his orange juice.

“So you skip over telling her you’re not interested, and go straight to ‘I’m gay’?!”

Link shrugged, letting his arms drop heavily back onto the table in defeat.

“I panicked, okay?”

Rhett shook his head in disbelief, standing up from the table to put his plate in the sink.

“So what, you want me to accompany you to your work party to masquerade as your boyfriend so you--”

“Husband,” Link interrupted, muttering under his breath. He flinched as the plate was dropped hard into the sink. He turned in time to see Rhett slowly and menacingly turn around to face him.

“You’re kidding.”

Link shook his head, covering his face and his bright red blush of embarrassment with his hands.

“She apparently didn’t care that I was gay. ‘Gay,’” Link ephasized with finger quotes. “Or she didn’t believe me, I don’t know. Guess I don’t blame her. So I told her I was married to cover my ass. Of course then word got out and everyone was curious, and I became an enigma. Everyone wanted to know his name, why I didn’t have a wedding band, why I never talk about him, how long I’ve been gay, who wears the pants in the relationship, where we went for our honeymoon,”

Rhett carefully sat back down across from Link, his face frozen in bewilderment.

“So now everyone is dying to meet my husband who they’ve heard so much about.”

“That’s not a hole you dug yourself there, Brother. That’s a canyon.”

Link slouched back down onto the table, nodding in agreement. They sat in silence for a minute, processing it all. Link glanced up when Rhett shifted in his seat, clearing his throat.

“Okay. I’ll do it. But you owe me big time for this.”

Link’s solemn expression cracked, a faint glimmer of a hopeful smile peeking through.

“So I guess I should know a little more about myself then, right? What’s my name?”

Link paused, his eyes widening, the blush coming back with a vengeance.

“R-Rhett.”

Rhett rolled his eyes, leaning onto his elbows.

“I know my own name dumbnut, what’s my alias?”

Link sputtered, his fingers nervously rapping the table’s surface.

“It’s Rhett.”

Rhett leaned in further, his eyebrows furrowing.

“You named your fake husband after me?”

Link nodded into his hands. He was sure he was going to implode right then and there.

Rhett stood up and walked off towards his bedroom, feigning an irritated sigh, turning back before he was out of view.

“You really owe me big time for this.”

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The ride to the venue that night was surprisingly not as tense as either of them had anticipated. They went back and forth quizzing each other on Rhett’s alias; They met 6 years ago in their senior year of college, married 2 years ago in a small courthouse ceremony. Their beliefs didn’t require wedding bands so they just didn’t bother. They honeymooned in Boulder, Colorado and it was very nice, thank you for asking. Don’t answer the pants question.

Link fidgeted with his blazer in the passenger seat, flipping open the visor to check his hair one too many times. Rhett glanced over, letting out a short chuckle.

“You look fine, babe.” Rhett said with almost not enough emphasis on the pet name. Link froze, slowly closing the visor as he turned his head towards Rhett in the driver’s seat. Rhett glanced over, laughing at Link’s sheepish expression.

“What? If you really want Caitlyn to hop off your dick, it needs to be convincing, right? I’m not gonna mack on you for the sake of saving you from your own lies, so we need something to make it seem real.”

Link nodded, turning back into his seat. His cheeks flushed as his lips silently echoed the term of endearment to himself.

Link was sure that one way or another, this night was going to be the death of him.

They strode into the quaint, dimly lit banquet hall and took in their surroundings. Balloons and crepe paper lined the walls and upbeat pop music played from ceiling-mounted speakers at a modest volume. Small groups of colleagues huddled together, cheerily conversing and laughing over unknown beverages in red solo cups. A few couples mingled on the small wooden dance floor in the middle of the room, bobbing their heads as they engaged in small talk. Rhett’s eyes scanned across the modest crowd, suddenly catching those of a young blonde female. Her eyes flitted between the two of them for a moment before her face lit up in excitement. Before Rhett could ask Link if that was his not so secret admirer, she was already jogging over. Link stiffened up when the woman neared, his hand racing to grab onto Rhett’s in the most awkward, rushed fashion.

“Charles! You’ve finally decided to be part of the team for once!” the woman quipped, her hand brushing along the collar of Link’s blazer. Rhett quickly concluded this was the girl in question. Link side-stepped closer to Rhett, his hand gripping tighter, his fingers trembling.

“Ha ha, funny. Anyway, Caitlyn,” Link said with the slightest emphasis for Rhett’s sake, “this is my, uh. My husband, Rhett. Rhett, this is my coworker, Caitlyn.”

Caitlyn smirked, her eyes scanning Rhett up and down as if inspecting the quality of a new appliance.

“Well well, he does exist after all. Nice to finally meet you, Rhett. You sure are a lucky man for finding Charles when you did.” Caitlyn said with a wink directly aimed towards Link.

Rhett felt an immediate twinge of offense and possession. He wrapped his arm around Link’s waist, pulling him into his side a little harder than he initially intended.

“Sure am.” Rhett beamed, aiming for a polite smile but achieving more of a shit-eating grin.

“You know, Charles just would not shut up about you! Once he finally opened up, it was like the floodgates burst open. You should see his face when he talks about you, oh I’ve never seen someone so smitten--”

“Rhett, honey, we should introduce you to everyone else before they run off!” Link loudly interrupted, his feet scuffing the floor as he leaned his weight into Rhett, shuffling them off and away from Caitlyn’s rambling as fast as he could. Rhett looked down at Caitlyn’s surprised face as he was pushed away, his proud grin still plastered on his face. Rhett chuckled, drinking in Link’s flustered face as he leaned into him, prompting him to keep walking.

“You talk about me a lot, huh?” Rhett said down towards Link with an air of arrogance, earning him a slap to his upper arm.

“Don’t drown in your ego.”

“Oh, come on Linkster. I’m just giving you a hard time.”

“I did it for the act, Rhett. Talkin’ about you just… It came easier to me. It was easier to pretend I was in love with you and not some imaginary person because, I mean...” Link said, his voice dropping low. Rhett could almost make out a hint of pain in his tone. Rhett planted his feet and stopped them in place, turning to face Link.

“Is it, though?” Rhett asked, craning his neck down to catch Link’s eyes with his own. Link blinked back in confusion, his face flushing pink with the close proximity.

“Is it really all just an act?” Rhett clarified, his voice soft, a reassuring smile peeking out from under his beard. Link’s eyes flicked between Rhett’s, a deluge of emotions present in one single, long gaze. Link shut his eyes tight and dove into Rhett’s chest, wrapping his arms tightly around his chest, burying his face tight into Rhett’s shirt.

Rhett smiled sweetly as he held Link close. His feelings for Link were always there, but never dwelled upon for long. But now, they were finally justified. It was a quick, unextraordinary spark from a life-long fuse, a simple and calm justification of his feelings after years of tamping them below the surface. He loved Link. He’d always loved Link, but he was never sure if the feelings were completely mutual and never worked up the courage to test the theory in fear of damaging what they already had. Sure, they’d shared a bed before. There were many nights they’d share a blanket during a movie, pressed closer together than what would normally be considered “platonic male friend” friendly. They’ve undressed in the same room, bared their deepest emotions with each other, have held gazes longer than socially appropriate. But Rhett never had an official verification.

Until today. Rhett felt sure of it. It was all too personalized to be an act on Link’s part. Link could have easily come up with a completely different human and have him play the part. Instead, he spoke of Rhett utterly as he was, and he did it truthfully and with passion. This moment of justification may not have been filled with a dramatic swelling of violins and a choir of angels as he’d imagined something like this may have been, but it made Rhett no less ecstatic.

After a long minute Link slowly released his tight grip, his eyes slowly trailing up to Rhett’s, shinier than before with the slightest pool of tears gathered on his lower lid. His smile was modest, but he was still absolutely beaming as he looked up to Rhett. His expression was radiating love and hope and relief and bliss. All the same feelings Rhett was experiencing. He hoped it showed through just as much in his smile. Rhett gave Link a final squeeze before taking hold of his hand, leading them back into the throng, both with a pep in their step that wasn’t there before.

They nearly made it to the wet bar when a small group of colleagues called Link over, unsurprisingly inquiring about Rhett. Rhett stood tall next to Link, a hand held tight to his narrow waist after shaking hands with the group. He nodded and added a few words here and there, confirming Link’s generated backstory for the both of them. They stood closer now, unafraid of crossing any imaginary boundaries now that the dam had broke loose. Rhett was truly enjoying himself at this point. Most of the credit as owed to the way Link unabashedly gushed about how wonderful their relationship was to save face, the stories coming easier now as if they had actually happened and weren’t just daydreams. Rhett’s mind floated off to the possibilities of making these charades into actual memories as Link continued to chat with his coworkers.

It wasn’t long before Rhett’s attention was quickly pulled back to reality when he felt a hand clap him on his shoulder, excited shouts of “Go! Go!” and excited faces beaming at him from Link’s colleagues. Rhett’s eyes settled down onto Link’s coy expression as he raised his eyebrows in question. Link nodded his head towards the dancefloor.

“It’s a slow song, for a couple’s dance.” Link answered shyly, his smile growing wider.

Rhett’s expression softened as he took Link’s hand, giving a nod to the group as they walked off towards the middle of the venue. A small handful of couples were already swaying together to the sweet tune as they stepped onto the smooth wooden floor. 

Rhett turned towards Link, first placing his hands on his shoulders, then slowly pulling him in, his arms draping over Link’s back. Link wrapped his hands around Rhett’s waist, his body flush with Rhett’s. They gazed at each other, lost in the endorphin rush that never left from the moment they silently admitted their feelings, wide smiles unable to be dulled if they tried.

“Husbands, huh?” Rhett joked softly, his head cocking to the side as he smiled sweetly down at Link. “I think this is a new record for fastest relationship.”

Link giggled softly, pressing his forehead to Rhett’s chest for a moment, inhaling his scent.

“We were basically an old married couple anyway,” Link quipped, looking back up at Rhett. “But really Rhett. I mean, I’m not saying we have to, especially if you don’t want to or change your mind down the line. I mean I don’t even fully know what’s happening right now, like what we are or what we’re going to be from here on but, gosh. I don’t know. I think we need to earn that title, you know? Work up to it? Is that okay? Did I just ruin the moment?”

Link was stopped in his tracks when he felt a hand cup his cheek and soft lips pressed to his own. He instantly melted into the kiss, his hold on Rhett tightening as he closed his eyes, sinking into the wonderful, new feeling. He blinked back to reality as Rhett pulled away, pure love pouring out of his expression.

“You’re not getting rid of me if you try, Link. I’ve been yours since the day I met you, and I’ll wait as long as you need. A slip of paper and a piece of metal won’t change nothin’ about how I feel about you.”

Link’s eyes suddenly went blurry as he smiled so wide it hurt, reaching up on his toes to dive into another kiss; The second kiss of tens of thousands to come.

[clarketomylexa]

that’s what best friends do, chapter two

“Boys suck,” she decides.

Lexa blinks at her, blank faced.

“I’m gay,” she says, just like that. It’s as simple as if boiled down to a definition, poetic as Gatsby’s ending and Clarke opens her mouth to say something, then closes it again. She doesn’t know what she is supposed to say other than what they are told in health class but all of that seems too wrong when faced with Lexa looking at her like this.

“Okay,” she says, because there’s really nothing more than that.

Lexa has always been hers.

read on ao3

At Clarke’s behest, Lexa details her in all the things she forgot to tell her about camp; the color war, ‘swim the lake’ which Lexa finished in record time in the seventh week of her session after training every day with a group of twenty other girls, and Costia who lives in Connecticut and writes Lexa every week of the school term, hoping she will come back to camp next summer.

She reads one of the letters aloud one day after school as they sit on Clarke’s bed. Clarke is cross-legged with the back end of her pen in her mouth as she noodles through a workbook and Lexa hangs halfway off the narrow mattress with her wet hair in a drooping top knot, laughing at sentences Clarke thinks must be inside jokes. She has taken up swimming three days a week this year and Clarke won’t admit it but she loves going to the pool on Saturday mornings to watch her train.

A picture printed on glossy photo paper falls out of the bottom of the envelope when she looks. It’s of Lexa in a tie-dyed tee and tiny denim shorts, clinging to the back of a wiry redhead with the bandana Lexa now keeps pinned to her bedroom wall, tied around her head. Both girls are soaked and covered in what looks like colourful powder, set against the backdrop of a picturesque lake complete with an intricate dock system and sailboats anchored at the bank, the girls around them armed with plastic water pistols.

Clarke tries not to be too happy when Lexa announces one day in late May that she won’t be going back to camp this summer. She comes to the lake instead but wears her camp tee instead of her piñata socks and because of swimming, when they go to put on their usual life vests to go boating, Lexa’s doesn’t close properly and Jake teases her about ‘bulking up for the season’. She goes bright red and apologises profusely but Jake laughs it off, hanging it back on the hook and Clarke is antsy the entire way into town to buy a new one.

She blames it on the syrupy heat and the fact that on their second day they still haven’t gotten onto the water.

It’s neither of those things.

When Clarke is fifteen their double-bed shrinks.

It doesn’t literally shrink of course; Clarke is fully aware she is the one doing the growing. Aware of it too much maybe because the growth spurt may have been the start of it, it certainly wasn’t all that puberty had to offer and ending Freshman year in a C-cup was an uncomfortable experience to say the least.

Lexa has grown too—even more than she had when she returned home from camp two summers ago with the beginnings of abs beneath the skin of her midriff—as Abby prophesied she has well and truly grown into her lankiness and the extra inch or so she has on Clarke when they stand side-by-side.

The discovery that she doesn’t have to make a conscious effort to be touching Lexa when they sleep isn’t exactly an unpleasant one, but neither of them wear novelty pyjamas now or pug socks. It’s all Clarke’s middle school track t-shirt and foraged sleep shorts and sometimes Lexa doesn’t even wear pants at all, lamenting that the heat is stifling and sliding into bed in her camp tee and Calvin's that forces Clarke to banish blush-worthy thoughts from her head. In fact, she almost hates herself for thinking them in the first place.

Having both started at the same high school at the beginning of the last school year, it became easier and easier for Clarke to shove the unbidden feelings into the back of the proverbial closet and shut the door tight as they settled into the routine of pop quizzes and high school hierarchy. Lexa had swimming, Clarke had lacrosse. They tried to find each other in the cafeteria but with different lunch hours any sort of midday reunions had been hard to find. Other than Mr. Ramon’s fifth period math class, it was almost as if they were still at schools half a county away.

Summer had come as a breathless reprieve.

She lies next to Lexa in a bed that seems to be growing narrower by the day—wincing at the way Lexa’s toes brush the bottom of the mattress—and hates the way the world is encroaching on their little Eden.

They have a bonfire down at the lakefront, three houses down where the bank gives way to a patch of grainy sand. Abby has begrudgingly decided that at fifteen they are old enough and by the time Clarke and Lexa wander down after dinner

The flames are four feet tall and paint what they can see of the lake in the dusk in a hazy purple that looks syrupy and thick.

Clarke raided both of their suitcases to find an outfit, landing on a skimpy jean skirt that made Jake’s eyes bulge and Lexa’s ACDC t-shirt to make up for it—she takes a handful of the fabric and ties it into a knot above her belly button as soon as they get out of eyeshot of the house and she catches Lexa eyeing her fingers as she does it but doesn’t say anything. Lexa on the other hand is wearing her jean shorts and a baggy striped long-sleeve that she has tucked into her waist band. She is altogether different from the Lexa that Clarke met that Sunday morning but the string friendship bracelet that Clarke gave her after spending the better half of a month weaving it out of thread from Abby’s sewing kit sits faded and worn against the tan of her wrist like a reminder of how much they have grown.

When they arrive a bottle of cheap wine has already been cracked open and is being passed around, and open cans of beer sit wedged in the sand. Couples sit clinched together, lazy and drunk on one another in the way that the couples at school seem to be as they pin each other to the metal of the lockers or duck into empty classrooms when they think they are being inconspicuous and music is being wired in from somewhere, the generic kind from the radio that will leave Clarke humming for days.

They are greeted where they stand, fingers locked on the lip of the bank, by the flannel-wearing junior and Lexa drops her hand so quickly, it’s as if she has been scalded. Clarke shoots her a frown but doesn’t manage to catch her downcast eyes and tries not to let the sinking feeling that she has been plagued with for a while now pull her under.

Whenever she brings the sense of impending doom Abby assures her that people change as they grow but Clarke is never satisfied with that answer. Lexa isn’t supposed to change. They’re supposed to live next door to each other, and have summers together and visit each other at college and buy houses in the same town and still be here come July twenty-second when they are eighty years old and their children’s children have grown up, it’s a truth that has kept Clarke afloat since the moment she met her best friend. The sudden realisation that her mom is right is not one she signed up for at seven-years-old, but she can’t stop the thought that maybe it’s true.

Because, try as she might, she can’t seem to fathom living out the plans that they have made like they planned them anymore.

They sit side-by-side on the sand as the wine bottle is drained to play spin the bottle—Lexa passes diligently on her sip but when it reaches her, Clarke grasps the bottle by the neck and takes a swig of what tastes like a cheap version of what she had at her cousin’s twenty-first and backwash and winces.

“Don’t let Abby see you,” Lexa nudges her with an elbow, “you’ll get a lecture on liver health.”

Clarke laughs but can’t bring herself to reply.

The bottle is laid down and a junior with dirty-blonde hair and hard, angular features leans forwards to spin it—she has a scuffed leather jacket on over a tight-fitting tank that makes Clarke irrationally angry because in the heat of summer, there is no way she has put it on because of the cold.

The jacket is a calculated move.

She lets the bottle go with an inelegant flick of her wrist, shucking her sleeves up to where they hang against her forearms and Clarke watches it spin—the bottle-green blur like a harbinger of certain doom, panic flashing white hot down her spine as it lands on Lexa where she sits cross legged in the sand, leaning back onto her hands so that she exudes an aura of confidence Clarke knows it an act. She can read Lexa better than anyone. Even despite the way she has refused to look at Clarke almost since they sat down, Clarke can see the tension in the cords of her neck.

A boy lets out a low whistle and Lexa’s cheek go red. Leather-jacket grins cockily and crawls across the awkward circle they have made, planting her hands on either side of Lexa’s thighs so that she hovers over her, brow piqued as if to dare Lexa to say no.

When they kiss, Clarke looks away. Something ugly knocks on the underside of her skull and she has to pretend to find interest in the knotted hem of her shirt to stop herself from acting on it until a sharp cheer goes up and leather-jacket is pulling away to retreat back to her seat, wiping a thumb over her mouth as she does and Clarke tries not to think of the fact that her lip gloss now shines in the dip above Lexa’s top lip where the line of her scar sits.

When Clarke gets banished to a game of seven minutes in heaven an hour later, as immature as it is she has all the intentions of asking to sit it out. The boy she has been paired with is in her grade, with hair just on this side of too long and an oil-stained flannel on over dark wash jeans. He rubs his hand over the nape of his neck in what Clarke thinks must be a nervous tick and she is sure if she asked he would say yes without question but a desperate, restless thing grips her as they round a thatch of trees so that they are out of sight of the bonfire and when he does ask what she wants to do she pulls him by the collar of his flannel in a move that is supposed to be somewhat sexy but just ends up clumsy and awfully amateur. His eyebrows shoot to his hairline in what she hopes is pleasant surprise.

She’s kissed two boys before. The first, Octavia argues, hardly counts because in the sixth grade Miller went around kissing every girl in their class on a bet after Murphy started spreading the rumour that he saw him and Nate kissing in the boys bathroom. It’s a thought that seizes so terribly in her chest every time she thinks of it and she refuses think that it’s for any other reason than Miller is her friend and he took so much shit for those rumours that he didn’t come to advisory for a week. But it  puts Clarke on par with Octavia though so she includes the rushed half-peck in her tally whenever asked.

This, however, is altogether different.

She lets him prop her against the nearest tree, his hands sure on her waist as she sighs into the hesitant brush of lips on lips, their noses bumping as Clarke flushes, head spinning at the taste of what she thinks is cheap beer on his lips and she plants her hands atop of his to ground herself. He asks her if she’s ‘okay to do this’ and she nods eagerly and leans in again. She loves the way his steady frame feels beneath her hands when she curls her finger into the shoulders of his flannel. His hair comes untucked from around his ears and they tickle her forehead where their shallow breaths rally it between them. Every so often they stop to breathe, laughing softly into the stagnant night air—tinged with a cool wind off the lake and flushed cheeks from the heat of the fire—and Clarke lets the simplicity of it soothe away the confusion she feels when she thinks about Lexa. She doesn’t know this boy. She doesn’t know his name or where he lives. There aren’t any expectations that will come out of a stupid game of seven minutes in heaven other than maybe a smile at the end of the night and she feels exhilarated.

It’s easy.

She likes easy.

By the time they make it back to the bonfire it has been decidedly longer than seven minutes but Clarke feels ascended nonetheless. She ducks her head against the raised brows they receive as she eases herself back onto the sand—next to Lexa who keeps her eyes on the tips of her shoes like Clarke knows she does when something is bothering her—but at this stage in the night, couples have mostly paired off anyway so she takes their knowing looks with a grain of salt.  

Across the circle, leather-jacket smiles lazily at Lexa and on impulse, Clarke grabs flannel-shirt’s hand.

The rest of the bonfire is passed in restless silence on both of their behalves and when Abby texts to warn them of their curfew drawing ever near, flannel-shirt puts his number in Clarke’s phone under ‘Finn’ with the flame emoji next to it. She laughs at it when he does and waggles her eyebrows, but Finn insists that it’s nothing more than to remind her he is the boy she met at the bonfire so she takes his word for it because she’s sure he’s too sweet to think of it any other way.

He texts her a short ‘hi’ when they are halfway back to the house and, hands tucked into her armpits, Lexa scoffs at the burgeoning smile that tugs at her lips.

“What?” Clarke snaps, face turning stony. Aside from the gentle lap-lap of the lake on the bank, the cicadas and the occasional bird call, the lakefront is silent as they traverse the lengths of the two or three properties that lie between them and the Griffin’s house. The night air is thick with the heavy scent of smoke and all the way around the lake, lights sit in the windows of houses like tiny flames. She plants her feet into the grass and watches Lexa’s face contort into a horribly unaffected pout that is contrived at best, genuine at worst.

She can’t decide which is better.

She thinks the answer might be neither of them.

Lexa swallows hard. “Nothing,” she grumbles, finding a dip in the soil with the toe of her sneaker and digging into it. The rubber connects with something hard, making a low thunk every time she hits it. The sound grates on Clarke.

“It’s not—will you stop that!” Annoyed, she grabs Lexa by the forearm. Lexa blinks in shock, yanking her arm away and tucking it back into herself as they stare at each other hard, chests heaving. “It’s not nothing,” Clarke repeats, softer this time. “You haven’t looked at me all night.”

“Good that Finn couldn’t take his eyes off you then,” Lexa fires back.

Clarke frowns, willing the hot, rattling thing in her chest to stay where it is. “Is that what this is about? You’re mad because I kissed him?” When Lexa won’t answer, she takes it as a confirmation. “It’s not like you were such a saint either,” she retorts hotly, “you kissed that seventeen-year-old no problem!”

“Kissed, Clarke!” Lexa all but yells. “I kissed her! I didn’t suck face with her for half an hour!”

“Why do you care, Lexa!”

For a moment it looks like Lexa is going to yell again and Clarke braces herself for an impact that never comes. Instead, Lexa leans forwards and presses her lips to her and Clarke feels herself burning over and over again until she is sure there is nothing left to her, to the lake or the house or the town beyond it, other than ash. She can taste the syrupy-sweet strawberry lip gloss and roasted marshmallows and Lexa’s lips tremble when Clarke stills enough to feel it.

It’s over as quickly as it started and Lexa is staring at her—eyes red and bottom lip trapped between her teeth, fists wound so tightly in the hem of her shirt her knuckles are white like it will keep her from doing it again. She looks at Clarke like she’s imploring her to understand but Clarke is dizzy and she thinks the wine and cheap beer has gone to her head. She tries so hard her eyes water and her throat burns but all that she can see is the minute quiver of Lexa’s lip and the haze of the lake and it builds up in her chest until she’s gasping for breath and looking away.

When she looks up, Lexa has shoved her hands into the depths of the pockets of her jean-shorts and is retreating, leaving Clarke oddly on edge, like she’s riding a rollercoaster and waiting for the stomach-flipping drop that isn’t coming.

It’s off putting and a little bit nauseating and Clarke thinks she may just explode, or implode—she can’t remember the difference. She’s sure that if she were to ask, Lexa would give her the textbook definition and then some, but as they enter the house through the open French doors, Abby asks them if they had a good night and Clarke can’t bring herself to reply so she doesn’t. Instead she lets Lexa shower first and stands under the hot stream when it’s her turn determined to scrub the scent of burnt-wood and Finn’s cologne off of her.

She lays next to Lexa in painful silence, toes tucked into the end of the bed, hating the thought that they are outgrowing themselves.

It rains the next day and Clarke can’t explain the inherent restlessness that she feels.

It’s all encompassing, leaving an awful, sickly film on her tongue and she wishes so badly she can reclaim the things she said to Lexa and shove them back into the depths of her chest where she keeps her other ugly feelings but it’s too late now.

She feels like all of her dirty laundry has been aired out to dry and it’s in bright neon orange so that it’s impossible people haven’t seen it.

Abby tuts at the weather over serving them waffles pried out of the iron and sliding the syrup across the counter and Jake emerges from the bunk room with a stack of board games in tow. He doesn’t see the way Clarke’s stomach positively flips at the sight. She wants to spring away from the breakfast nook and burrow into her bed until she suffocates herself but Lexa is staring at her and something about it screws her to her stool.

They play monopoly until Clarke’s brain bleeds. She’s so eager to do something that she drowns herself in properties and in turn, debts that she can’t pay off and bankrupts herself almost immediately and they listen to the old CD’s Jake fishes out from the dusty bookcase in the hall until she is sure the thing growing inside her will crawl up her throat and spray itself across the walls. She stands up from where she sits on the wooden floors, staring dumbly at her Clue cards like—the knife, the ballroom, the reverend—like they could be a tarot deck, legs screaming in protest. Her parents stare at her, a collective frown hidden beneath obvious concern, but Lexa just cocks her head and peers at her from the ground.

The rain beats at the windows, hard and sharp and with no intention of stopping considering the thickness of the heavy clouds that hem in the lake and the syrupy heat clogs up her lungs until she can’t breathe. She crosses the room with sure-footed intent, flinging open the doors, all trembling hands and pent up anger until she can feel the cold needles of rain on her face and her tee sags, waterlogged under the weight of it.  

Lexa’s fingers find the hem of her shirt, begging her back inside but she garbles something childish like ‘last one in’s the loser’ and takes off, across the deck, down the stairs and over the grass at terrifying speed, rain in her eyes and mud underfoot. Her hair is soaked and it hangs thickly off her lashes and somewhere beyond the loud thump-thump of her heart in her ears she thinks she can hear Lexa behind her, heavy big breathes and screaming at her to stop.

The hard wooden planks of the jetty come as a shock and they jar something loose in her chest. All of the terrible feelings come spilling out and she can barely see past the opaque sheets of rain but she launches herself off the end and this time, the ice-cold impact of the water does come.

She sinks like a stone fully clothed, water roaring in her ears and when her bare feet brush the silt at the bottom of the lake, she kicks off and surfaces a second later, blinking water out of her eyes to find Lexa standing at the edge of the jetty staring at her.

Suddenly, the memory of being in this exact position eight years ago hits her hard enough to knock the breath out of her—Lexa’s striped swimsuit, the tire-swing and the high-on-life feeling of elation when she surfaced to see Lexa cheering for her.

“Come on!” Clarke hollers over the rain, shielding her eyes with her hand as her legs fight to keep her afloat.

Lexa scoffs and shakes her head but unlike last night, Clarke thinks it’s a smile hiding beneath the curve of her lip. “You’re crazy!” she laughs in disbelief but she has this look—this lopsided, word-splitting look—on her face and Clarke knows she has her.

When she jumps in, the world somehow rights itself and Clarke is sure that the sun will come out again with the sheer force of Lexa’s smile.    

They go from Juniors to Seniors and, despite Clarke’s valiant effort to make it fit, they grow out of their double bed.

Jake offers to make up the bunk room but Lexa respectfully declines, electing to sleep in their usual room on the trundle bed and Clarke is not-so-silently grateful. She laments mournfully that Lexa needs to stop growing, poking her in all the soft places that make her squirm as they lie upside down on the too-small bed, as if wishful thinking will make them seven-years-old again.

Lexa is already thinking about college—she has her sights set on UPenn or even Harvard and while Clarke knows without a doubt she will get in, the thought of Lexa being hours away makes her chest uncomfortably tight.

“I won’t be any more than a couple of hours away,” Lexa hums, catching Clarke’s offending fingers in her hot hands. “Even if I get in to Berkeley it’s only a five hour flight.”

Clarke peers at her in faux-concern. Berkeley was a late comer on Lexa’s college radar but when the guidance counsellor suggested it might be a good idea to apply on the West Coast, she had taken it on board. Clarke is thinking more liberal like NYU or BU. She hasn’t told Lexa yet that her mom has a contact at CalArts and that—after surveying the portfolio she put together for an school exhibition—they said she was a shoe in for early admissions. If Lexa doesn’t get into Berkeley she isn’t sure she could make the five hour journey and leave her best friend a whole country away.

“You and I have a very different idea of what ‘only five hours’ means,” she groans, laying back on her back and tucking her head into her best friends shoulder. They still have senior year left to decide. Her mom tells her that that’s what it’s for but Clarke can hardly stand all of this not knowing and ‘end of an era’ bullshit that their principal had starting spouting in the last week of Junior year. As if they needed a reminder that next year might as well be the most important of their life. The opposite of invigorating her for her future, all it has done is make the hot ache inside her chest grow stronger; it’s almost over and Clarke can’t help but feel like she has less than nothing figured out.

“Will it really be that bad?”

It seems Lexa has a bad memory.

“Do you remember summer camp?” Clarke asks pointedly and when Lexa nods, she grins, “case and point. And college is longer than an eight-week summer session.” She settles when Lexa taps at her own shoulder again with her pointer finger; a wordless invitation that Clarke takes up eagerly. They haven’t talked about the kiss since the bonfire two years ago.

In fact they haven’t talked about it hard enough—almost made a point not to bring it up—that Clarke has managed to convince herself it didn’t happen.  

She plays with the soft hem of Lexa’s tee and closes her eyes against the smell of washing detergent and summer and roots far enough into Lexa’s shoulder that she is sure she can stay that way. Lexa laughs and she can feet the vibrations against her cheek, then even stronger when Lexa, in the midst of a soft chuckle says, “I love you.”

Clarke cocks her head at the odd cadence of her voice. “I love you too, dork,” she says because ‘that’s what best friends do’, “even if you are leaving me for a better climate.”

Lexa grumbles absently that ‘nothing is set in stone’ and ‘applications haven’t even come out yet’ but settles beneath Clarke regardless. They eke as much as they can out of the evening before Lexa has to retreat to her trundle bed and Clarke turns the light out, feeling aloof and untethered without the warm mass of Lexa’s body next to her.

Usually she longs for the quiet moments—the nights she spends with Lexa in their Eden of floral sheets and patterned wallpaper but instead, she finds herself restless and searching for something she isn’t quite sure how to find.

She wants to go to into senior year on solid ground, not feeling like she is wading through molasses but the truth is, as the summer wanes on, she isn’t any closer to finding her feet. They swim and sunbathe and eat sticky marshmallow straight from their sticks—Lexa gets it stuck above her lip and Clarke leans over to wipe it off with her thumb.

Jake takes them out on the boat and Abby comes with them into the dinky little eatery in town that has outdoor picnic tables and Lexa spams her phone with pictures of Clarke in a summer dress and a straw hat, hair in a single, twisted braid. It’s all wonderful and quintessentially summer but it isn’t what she wants.

While Lexa spreads herself out on a blue and white blanket with next year’s reading—it’s not like she didn’t read ‘The Great Gatsby’ in the eighth grade on a whim because Clarke liked the cover art depicting the ‘eyes of God’—Clarke finds Finn. They stand in the woods, not far from where they kissed the first night at the bonfire, with fervent hands on each other and weird energy rattling in her chest. Her heart isn’t in it when he places hot mouthed kisses along the column of her neck and she lets him ruck her shirt up over her chest just because he looks so earnest when he asks her. She knows it’s not at all a good reason to—as mortifying as it was her mom had been thorough when she sat Clarke down at the beginning of sophomore year to give her the talk and although it was more clinical than touchy feely she did make sure to instil a sense of its importance in her. It wasn’t that she shouldn’t be in charge of her own body, it was just that she should be careful who she is in charge of it with.

But all that feels so utterly faraway right now, like a picture just out of focus.

He smells like Axe body spray and even though she’s sure neither of them are wearing it, the sticky scent of sunscreen hangs in the air. She wrinkles her nose against it as he sucks down her collarbones and frowns at the hard, scrape of teeth, tugging him away by the hair at the nape of his neck with a sharp hiss.

“Ow,” she breathes.

“Sorry,” he huffs, flashing her a brilliant smile. He roots his hands back under her shirt. “I almost ignored your text when I got it this morning,” he hums against her, “I nearly deleted your number after the bonfire. Atom said you were too good for me and that you’d never text me back.” He raises his brows as if to say ‘let’s show him’ and Clarke is immediately repulsed.

“Finn,” she whines, high pitched and breathless as she tries to pull his hands off her. His fingers catch on her belt loop and she unhooks his thumb before giving his chest a light shove. “I need to go.”

He frowns. “But—”

“I have to get back,” she shakes her head decisively. “Bye Finn.”

There’s no other way to describe what she feels as she hikes back up the back to the house than ‘icky’. She has enough sense in her head to know for sure that she is anything but a summer conquest and, she thinks, if Finn wants to impress Atom so badly maybe he should feel him up instead.

Lexa is where she left her in her short-sleeved linen shirt and denim shorts, hair in its topknot and glasses perched on her head as she skims Gatsby’s tragic death and laments over Daisy’s poor character choices. She quells the itchy dizziness within Clarke immediately and as soon as she makes it over, she collapses down on the grass, rolling easily onto her back and landing her hands on her stomach with a heavy sigh.

“Boys suck,” she decides.

Lexa blinks at her, blank faced.

“I’m gay,” she says, just like that. It’s as simple as if boiled down to a definition, poetic as Gatsby’s ending and Clarke opens her mouth to say something, then closes it again. She doesn’t know what she is supposed to say other than what they are told in health class but all of that seems too wrong when faced with Lexa looking at her like this.

“Okay,” she says, because there’s really nothing more than that.

Lexa has always been hers. A three letter word isn’t going to change that—she hopes against hope that Lexa didn’t believe it would—but there are tears clinging to Lexa’s lashes like dew on the spiderwebs they used to find under the picnic table when they were seven and the sight sticks in Clarke’s chest, so painfully it’s all she can do to pull her into a hug. She hooks her arm over Lexa’s shoulder and pulls her into her chest, letting Lexa root into her shoulder until she thinks nothing could separate them. “Oh, Lex,” she coos, “you’re okay,” and more than that, “we’re okay.”

When Lexa pulls back she’s trembling. The breeze is hot today but Lexa looks as if she is in the middle of a tundra in a swimsuit because her shoulders shake and her chin quivers and is it bad of her to think that right now she is the prettiest that Clarke has ever seen her?

“Thank you for telling me,” she whispers.

Lexa nods, her chin wobbles.

“How long have you known?”

Clarke doesn’t know why she asks other than that it seems of the utmost importance. It’s awfully dramatic but she feels like her entire life will rest on this moment, like she will look back at it through the lense of experience to either wallow or regret or point to it as the thing that changed everything. She only hopes it’s the latter. Lexa’s eyes are seven different colours through the prism of the tears held captive at her lash line and it’s all Clarke can do not to let it take her breath away.

“Two years.”

Clarke feels the air evacuate her chest. She feels like she is on fire, her body tingles and she is relatively sure she isn’t a whole person—not yet at least, not with Lexa looking at her the way she is—but half of one, made of nothing but open nerve endings and raw want. It all knots inside of her and swells until it is impossible to ignore.

Clarke kisses her.

She grasps Lexa by the shoulder, the linen of her shirt crushed against the heat of her palm, and leans in with her mouth open and a fervent kind of desperation she hasn’t kissed anyone with in her life. It’s heavy and bold and oh so desperate. Lexa’s brows shoot to her hairline before coming back down as her fingers find the hem of Clarke’s tee and fist in it like she needs something to keep her from inevitably floating off into space.

Clarke knows the feeling.

It feels like every single moment of her life has led to this point, and now that she’s here, she is sure she isn’t. Her hand comes up to rest on Lexa’s jaw and she takes stock of what she knows: the colour of Lexa’s eyes; the shape of the scar above her lip; how she scrunches her eyes when she is happy and throws her head back when she laughs, and when she is troubled by something, she gets a look on her face that is both devastating and beautiful.

It’s there now, caught in the place between her eyebrows.

It makes Clarke nervous.

She feels clumsy and inelegant but Lexa tangles their fingers together. She tastes like summer and everything good, Clarke feels drunk on it.

“I love you,” she whispers because that’s not what best friends do.

“I love you,” Lexa says.

The entire world feels encapsulated into a heartbeat Clarke thinks it might just be her last.

Maybe she doesn’t like easy after all.

[punkbirdwitch]

Sweet Mother Sappho

A longer poem about learning through history, self-discovery, etc. It’s a rough draft-- I’m not 100% satisfied with the storyline-- but, eh, here ya go.

---

Oh, Mother Sappho, though I’m not sure who you are,

I just found you in the trunk of my dad’s old beat-up car,

In a pile full of other stuff he used to want but doesn’t,

So I figured now would be the time to give myself a present.

I must admit that I’m not well-versed with verses,

Haven’t seen stanzas since Kwanzaa, and my rhymes could use work-- but!

Your face is on the cover and you look like you’re nice, so

I think I’ll come and read you-- only once or twice, I swear!--

And only when I’m curious about Aphrodite’s weaving,

Or carpenters and roofbeams or Gods who like deceiving!

I’d hate to be a bother with all of my incessant reading,

There’s just something ‘bout your passages I can’t help but find intriguing--

But maybe it’s just that my curiosity took

When I noticed finely scrawled within the tiny nook

Between the front cover and the page--

Faded some with age--

In graphite on the page, it reads, “Steph…

...

I hope you like the book.”

… My name’s Chris, by the way.

-

Oh, Mother Sappho, I know it’s only been one day,

But after our first meeting I can’t tear myself away!

And on top of that I realized that I’ve been a little flippant.

Dad always says that when I talk, my brain gets sorta distant.

My name is Chris, as I surely said before,

I’m 15 years old, born in the year Two Thousand and Four,

Which to you must seem like, I dunno, a billion years away--

If only you could see all of the stuff we have today!

My dad’s a docent-- uh, which means he works in a museum,

And I remind him he’s a nerd just about every time I see ‘im.

He takes folks ‘round to see the history, the time when you lived--

And money can be tight, so sometimes he works the graveyard shift.

I guess they save some headache by keeping the same guy

To glide across the floors by day and scrub ‘em by night.

But hey! I’m not complaining, and neither is he,

‘Cuz Empty Halls + Father/Son = Happy Memories.

I spent a lot of nights playing next to history,

Though how I (almost) never broke stuff still remains a mystery.

I played tag with the Huns, roshambo with Tommie Smith,

(A game I always won since he would always raise his fist).

My father told me tales from ancient times-- (Never quite PG)--

Then quizzed me on Mythology ‘til my mind was at its apogee!--

I’d hunt with Davy Crockett and paint with Vince van Gogh--

Might explain why a dead poet makes the second-best friend that I know. Ha!

But my favorite-- yes, the best-and-kindest figures of all

Were the warriors whispered about in the Women’s History Hall.

This was before they spread the female figures throughout the exhibits,

But in that hallway you could sense there was rebellious spirit.

Wollstonecraft and Curie, Shelley, Earhart and d’Arc,

I danced with Josie Baker, had some chats with Rosa Parks--

I fought entire wars with them as a tactician of sorts,

Then settled it with kindness, like you read about in books--

And it’s true that my childhood would have been less sleep-deprived

If I stayed at home while daddy made the money to survive,

But I’m a night owl through and through, a real child of Nyx-- (Still got it!)--

Which is why I’m sitting here with you at, like… 3:06.

… A.M. Yikes-- Mother Sappho! I’ve got to get to bed,

But thank you oh-so-kindly for the poetry I’ve read.

I hope that you don’t mind if this becomes a regular thing,

Like when I used to read soliloquies to Dr. Martin Luther King (‘s statue)--

God, with all that museum time, it’s weird I never met you.

But without further ado,

I’ll say good night to you.

… But Mother Sappho-- one thing keeps me awake,

A little shred of curiosity that I have yet to slake.

It pulls me in like the aroma from the master dish of a chef,

Oh, Mother Sappho…

… Who’s Steph?

-

-

Oh, Mother Sappho! Julie’s coming by tonight,

And whenever she comes over she just has to steal the spotlight!

Not that I mind-- I’m cool with being quiet at the table

While my childhood friend fills my open head with fables.

Our Hellish Elementary formed our crucible as friends,

And though it sucked, we only came out stronger in the end.

A nerdy girl, a “cissy” guy, playing sci-fi with dolls--

Didn’t really resonate within those tiny halls.

And of course I’d be remiss to not show her my new find--

I always try to have a new conversation topic each time

That she comes over-- Which she’s done quite regularly

Since she became my friend when no one else

Would hang out with me.

… But anyway-- She says she loves you, which is not a surprise,

It’s always been dead-dramatic ladies for whom she’s had eyes--

Not saying you’re dramatic, Sappho, I’m just trying to say,

That I’ve recently been wondering if you might’ve been gay?

I’m just saying! that’s the conclusion that I came to next

When the subtextual did floweth over into the text.

(O it makes my panicked heart go fluttering in my chest,

for the moment I catch sight of you there is no speech left

in me--) You see? You can’t blame me for thinking

That it was rainbow-colored nectar you and your friends were drinking.

 And while Julie’s father has a chat with my dad,

I tell my lifelong friend about the conversations we’ve had--

And I can’t help but hear our fathers talking in the afternoon air,

Two strong voices rising through wood and laughing as a pair…

Though what they talk about’s a mystery-- dad says it’s “Nothing much--”

It’s rare for friends to have their dads like each other this much,

Aaaand I just rhymed “much” with “much”-- I told you I’m rusty!

But I think I’m getting better, you’ll-- just have to… Trust me?

Ugh.

 -

-

-

 Oh, Mother Sappho, I’m addling my brain--

If I don’t find out who this “Steph” is, I might just go insane--

Short for Stephanie, I’m sure, but why is it in my father’s hands?

And why would he discard in the back of our sedan?

Is there some pain within my father’s past he’d rather I not know?

...

You know-- I never had a mother, Mother Sappho.

 -

-

-

-

 Oh, Mother Sappho.

Oh, Mother Sappho.

 I spoke with Julie today, Oh, Mother Sappho.

Sweet Mother Sappho.

I had something to say, “Oh--

“You know,” I said, “I think that I would like to be a girl,

Even if not for forever, I’d still give it a whirl.

I’m unversed in verses-- It’s hard

To explain in the wrong key

But I get the feeling that not everything

Is quite all right with me.”

And she turned to me and smiled and said “Silly-- you can be.”

 .

 Oh, Mother, Sappho.

Oh, Mother, Sappho.

I’m addling my brain.

There’s something here inside my heart that I just cannot contain.

It doesn’t feel right--

And yet

It doesn’t feel wrong.

It just feels like I’ve

Never quite

Belonged.

And now I’m not sure where I’m at or what to do.

Mother Sappho, I don’t know what to do.

Oh, Mother Sappho…

…

Sweet Mother Sappho…

 -

-

-

-

-

-

 (Oh, darling daughter, I hope you know that you are strong

And that as you sat there rambling, I was listening all along.

Please pardon my language-- I’m afraid I’ve not rehearsed.

In this meter, I’m afraid that I’m the one unversed.

 (You’re green and dainty, child-- what better thing to be?

And though your heart is violet, you’re as sturdy as the tree.

I hope you know I love you, no matter who you are,

For your soul is far more radiant than all the highest stars--

Now show them who you are--

My child, show them you are.

...

(And know

That you have nothing to fear.

You’ll know

When you understand how near you were

And are

To people just like you.

To people who love you.)

 -

 Oh, Mother Sappho, I hope you know you haven’t been misread,

And I think I found the meaning in that thing that you last said.

I realized what before I would not have believed in, ‘cuz--

“Steph” is short for Stephanie-- but is also short for “Stephen.”

 I think my dad and I might need to have a talk--

In the morning. It’s 2:04, and I’m still sort of in shock.

Maybe once I tell ‘im, I can help him get a date.

Ha! Maybe…

It’s late.

 Thank you, Mother Sappho, and just to set things straight-- (Which I guess I’m not, now, huh, Ms. Sapphic?)

You can still call me Chris-- it’s gender-neutral, yeah? It almost feels like fate.

Oh, Mother Sappho, I think that this feels right.

Thanks, and-- good night, Mother Sappho.

 -

(Good night.)

[sunnysynthsunshine]

Eddie! it’s time we talk about our feelings

(Hurt/Comfort) (tw! references to mental health and alcohol misuse)

Richie suggests having a chat about something Eddie isn't prepared for when the tv has nothing good on.....feelings, all that soppy stuff, Richie is the emotional one, Eddie usually is not, that is until this chat makes them have some realizations and reconciliation?

In the Hammersmith flat, it was quieter than usual, there were no fights, no yelling, Richie and Eddie were just sitting on the sofa together.

Nothing good was on

Eddie flicked the remote multiple times

“oh come on, there must be something saucy on one of these channels”

Eddie kept flicking the channels

“Young man I think that’s enough, if you keep switching from channel to channel, you’ll break the television set and I’m not paying for that”

Eddie turned over at him as he switched it off  “what, it’s not like you don’t watch television as well while you're making those science experiments you call meals”

Richie rolled his eyes, “No, it’s because we’d both have the pay the damages as we share the tv and if it did get smashed we wouldn’t be able to pay for it”

After going off to the kitchen to get some tea, there was more quietness, Richie looked down at his teacup as he stirred it around with his spoon, “you know Eddie, we don’t usually get quiet moments like this, this could give us a chance to talk about our feelings more you know, instead of repressing it through mindless reckless behaviour”

Eddie gave him an unhappy look before he raised his gravelly voice slightly, “it’s not a quiet moment, because your never quiet and the mindless, reckless behaviour is fun, booze, pub quizzes, getting girls, it’s all a good laugh”

Richie was unhappy with how Eddie was acting, he whined, “I am in fact the quietest that I have been and when the reckless behaviour is excessive, it’s unhealthy for you, that pub quiz wasn’t even successful we got involved with skull crusher, because of your fake money idea, How do you think I feel?, do you think I like looking back on every unsuccessful flirting attempt, every social cue I didn’t understand, every day that ended up going badly when I wanted it to be good, honestly today we are going to be settling our issues like men”

Eddie kept jabbering, “Are you asking for a fight then?”

Richie held his hand out in a form of surrender, “No, No fights this time, we are just going to talk”

Eddie said, “Talk?, about what, about how you can never get with women, about how great Napoleon was at Tamagotchi, how Nigella Lawson’s dress was absolutely ravishing this morning?”

Richie straightened his tie and pouted, “no, no, not about any of that….we are going to talk about our feelings and our emotions and our issues, we are going to try and get some closure”

Eddie sipped some tea as he mumbled to himself “oh no, he’s going to go on about some philosophical soppy bollocks isn’t he?”

Richie clapped his hands together, “now I would like you to tell me, what your issues are with me, now try to not word them in an insulting way please, as I just want to know why I bother you so much and what I can do to be less annoying”

Eddie mumbled to himself, “why do I bloody start, my number of issues with rich would be as big as my Christmas list, and of course he’s making this about himself, sooner or later he’s going to be having some ramble about who knows what”

Eddie stared at Richie, who didn’t say a word as he continued to wait for Eddie’s response

Eddie mumbled again, “wow, he’s serious, I guess I’ll give an answer”

“Well...you do tend to be very self-absorbed a lot of the time, why is that, why you seek attention so much Richie, why do you always humiliate yourself when socialising with ladies or with my friends, why are you so overly emotional and girly, why are you so sad and perverted, why are you so bad at cooking, why do you go off about history you barely know the accurate facts about, why did you make me do that liposuction thing that one time, why did you cause a drama about Miss World, why did you cause such a tantrum about being a shopkeeper?”

Richie was taken aback by how the question was worded but tried to give an explanation anyway

“Oh….Well you see Eddie, I’m just a very lonely person when your not around and even I am with other people I just have no idea how to talk to them, I don’t know their social cues, I don’t know what their interests are, I would talk about other topics If I knew what topics to talk about, but I’m just simply not as informed about other topics, this also carries into my dating skills, I’ve learned through my magazines I’m not the casanova I wish to be as I’m just too awkward sometimes, I do want to truly fall in love someday but it would have to be someone I’m socially compatible with, I didn’t intend to be rude to the lesbians we met that one time, I just didn’t know until they told me, I didn’t understand boundaries and my views on people who aren’t straight were very outdated, I was raised conservative and that’s how I was told to view gay people, but I see now that they are just people like everybody else”

“I guess when I’m around people like Spudgun and Dave Hedgehog, my inability to communicate can get me frustrated and it can make me appear very stuck up, that and again my outdated conservative values, this isn’t the 90s anymore, times are changing and so are we”

“My bad cooking probably stems from my mother’s notoriously bad sandwiches, but I am learning, I am trying to be better, if you have any tips or cookbooks you recommend, I am eager to give them a go, I know you joke that I’m trying to poison you but I’m not as I just need to develop my skills more and I’d rather we have food on the table than nothing at all even if it’s not food that tastes good.

“The liposuction thing was a mistake to look hunky which just caused damage to my balls, beauty standards were so ridiculous back then, did you know most magazine cover art is done by computers now, they give us unrealistic expectations, no wonder half of the ladies we could list in our preferences were just supermodels we’d have no chance with”

“And I was not causing a “drama” about miss world young man, it was you that started it all just because you didn’t want to eat the meal I prepared for you, you could’ve just said if we could watch it without making the lie about the bet and then I wouldn’t have crashed into the dustbin, although that was also your fault as you left the window open, see! not everything I do is my fault sometimes you need to acknowledge your mistakes too”

“The shopkeeper thing was I guess my competitive streak and the fact we’ve both been jobless for such a long time that to have a job even if it was temporary just felt very good, sometimes when I have power, I misuse it, because I’m not used to it but I would rather have a job I enjoy instead of working at an office all day for some git who earns more money than me”

“My pervertedness is probably my deviancy and sometimes I can take my sex-positivity way too far, but now I know there are a time and a place for it”

“I seek genuine love and attention, sometimes I come across as a mean person because of my ignorance and competitiveness, but I am trying to do better, just by simply having this conversation, we’re getting our words out constructively instead of punching each other’s faces in”

“Talking about your emotions is not girly, it’s important to acknowledge issues instead of ignoring them when you ignore issues, they just continue to consume you, we shouldn’t repress our feelings and hide under shells, we were brought up in a generation that didn’t care about feelings, no wonder we acted the way we did, if you don’t listen, people get hurt and sometimes the person getting hurt is you, also some people are just generally more sensitive to some things and I’m one of those people, there’s nothing wrong with being a man who doesn’t look like a bodybuilder, in fact, I admire how agile and athletic you are compared to me.

After trying to process everything Richie said, Eddie quietly said, “you mean all of this?”

Richie nodded, “I mean every word,this is me being honest”

There was more silence,Eddie thought for a second about the lecture that Richie had given about his past actions and also the importance of the one soppy subject he avoided talking about….feelings

He self reflected himself on his actions,the miss world drama,the wolverhampton visit, he felt humiliated, he started to realize that maybe richie didn’t enjoy it when his past mistakes would be brought into the conversation,Eddie wasn’t used to addressing his own elephant in the room so he did something that he rarely did….he sobbed.

Eddie looked down as the waterworks started,he winced and sniffled as he tried to not let his glasses get smudged,he felt bad,he felt bad about how he treated Richie occasionally,he felt bad about how many times he repressed issues instead of addressing them,this was a new realization for him,he’d have a go at richie for being smug and competitive but on some days he was no different,he felt bad for not understanding richie’s perspective,he felt bad about the one thing he was constantly reminded of when walking into the dreaded dole office, he was jobless and didn’t have much money,he knew at times he was a bit too self destructive,he was lucky to have Richie,if Richie wasn’t there to tend to his wounds or calm him down after a bad day,he’d probably be dead or in jail”

Eddie continued to cry,he rarely cried but there he was,with tears running down his face like a waterfall,he knew he had issues,metaphorically he could get help,but he didn’t know how,he hadn’t even told spudgun and dave hedgehog about his self destruction habit,then again it’s not like the government was giving them many options that didn’t involve waiting lists or prices he couldn’t afford

Eddie whimpered and wailed,he wasn’t used to this soppy bollocks,but he’d rather do that and add to the repeating cycle of hiding issues under the rug instead of addressing them.

Richie looked concerned as he heard his flatmates raspy bawling, he frowned and turned his eyebrows as he was shocked to see Eddie of all people on earth,having a sob.

Richie shuffled closer to Eddie on the sofa as he wrapped his arm over Eddie’s shoulder, rubbing calming circles on his back smoothly as he reassured him in a soft toned voice “Eddie!..it’s ok, it’s ok to vent sometimes,

Eddie kept bawling, he held Richie into a hug as he tried to explain what he was self reflecting about

Richie kept softly rubbing the back of the flatmate until he calmed down,he tried to use his words in a constructively way this time, “There There, it’s alright,we can get out of this,you’ve got me to talk to,I’ll be here to listen,I stopped relying on the conservative party ages ago after I realized they’ve done bugger all to help working class people like us,we’ll get you help,we’ll get whatever treatment it takes and maybe if we look around enough,we might even get jobs and we can go on more holidays,stuff our faces and maybe work on our flirting skills along the way”

Eddie stopped whimpering, “t-that, that would be nice actually”, “you know, your a good friend Richie”, he dried his tears, “I’m sorry for not understanding how you felt sometimes and I’m sorry for being too self destructive,we’ve all got our issues,but we won’t let them define us,”

Richie quickly handed him a tissue, as Eddie blowed his nose,he leaned his shoulder over to Richie,

“Best mates?”

Richie then gently held his hand, “Best mates”

They then just snuggled for the rest of the day,eventually ordering a chinese takeaway and turning the tv back on to watch a film together.