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#I don't know if I owe people an apology for this?
maddy-ferguson · 10 months
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rewatching season three i can see why people aged 14 to 17 think they're the target audience for the show they did not write this for adult humans to enjoy
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wolves-in-the-world · 2 years
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thinking once again about how eliot's safety and ability to do his job well relies on him being seen as a Big Bad Scary Hitter - that's what his grift in the french connection job etc is for, it's a useful reputation, it keeps the wolves at bay - and how he hires quinn for what he knows is gonna be a high-stakes job. he brings quinn with him to intercept dubenich, lets quinn see his hand shake as he tries to talk himself into-or-out-of killing the mark, then turns around and chats with him afterwards. bickers with him easily when they shake hands at the end.
there's a trust between them from the moment eliot lays out the job offer, and it has to be more than "we have no particular reason to betray each other yet."
I'm thinking about... the code of honour in hitter circles, where A Favour is both a recognised thing and a respected currency. about eliot's confidentiality with regard to old employers. about the network of contacts (I have to assume) who can tell you if someone can be trusted and if they're as good as they claim. about eliot's seemingly thoughtless trust in quinn.
(he had to have researched, surely. if only to know where to find him. if only to be sure there aren't any big players currently after his blood. if only to find out that quinn is exactly the kind of dangerous they need for the job, no more, no worse.)
I just have a lot of fondness for He's A Killer But He's Not A Jackass quinn, who would take on a hit and accidentally go up against eliot spencer (uh oh), but can be trusted with more delicate things.
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circtheeunbroken · 3 months
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(from my ASIOAF pet project that I will never post because frankly I'm far to embarrassed to do so, it is the most blatant revisionist, self-indulgent fic I've ever written, I'm just really proud of how this came out. there are only two canon characters in this picture and they are *so* unrecognizable lol) babey girl to the far left is @rosered282's, thank you for letting me play with her.
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hooned · 1 year
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i love you, park jongseong 🥺
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pa-pa-plasma · 10 months
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I feel like too many people don't understand that a bad person having normal human traits does not suddenly make them a good person
#& every person who thinks that way is sooo susceptible to abuse#like that's not a joke or anything like for real if you keep treating people as 2 dimensional#then you fall into the trap of ''they did 1 nice thing for me so they must not actually be bad''#you're allowed to like bad characters without scrambling to justify & write off their terrible actions & personality#like dude youre so desperate to not be caught liking something deviant youre using the same tactics as a H*rry P*tter fan#anyway i hope those people who like that asshole from ST never meet a Billy irl#cuz ive lived with Billys irl & it's not fucking fun. it's not interesting. it's living with an abusive piece of shit#just admit you think hes a good person because hes attractive. like youre fooling no one#if he didnt look like that youd call him a fucking freak. but he doesnt so hes just ''interesting to pick apart''#i can give you insight into that kind of person's brain: they literally would abuse you. they don't care. they think you deserve it#they can do nice things all they want but the ''niceness'' never quite reaches the same level the ''meanness'' gets to#theyre always paired together. they bought you an ice cream that costs less than a dollar? you owe them money plus interest#the reality of the situation is that every time someone like me sees you guys doing that#fawning over some asshole abuser & calling them perfect & explaining away their behaviour?#it literally sets me back. it makes me so fucking mad because that happens in real life. it's why the abuse never gets stopped#no one believes you because ''well they were nice to ME & look nice so i dont believe you''#i know how much you guys hate acknowledging apologism but like. that's abuse apologism right there
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dr3c0mix · 5 months
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My Lovely Melody
Yandere!Rockstar x GN!Reader
CW: yandere is a playboy before he meets reader, suggestive (creepy) thoughts, minor obsessive behaviour
🎸 Axel's been in many relationships with both men and women alike, but all of his little flings felt nothing more than that, just flings.
🎸 And he was content with it, I mean being a famous rockstar meant lots of people wanting a chance with you and he indulged in that fact.
🎸 He could sleep with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he wouldn't have to deal with the commitment that comes with dating or any of that messy stuff.
🎸 So why the hell can't stop thinking about you ?!?!?!!
🎸 He scratched his head trying to make sense of it, his messy hair getting even more ruffled as he tries to get the image of your smile out of his head.
🎸 You were in a miscellaneous store full of alt clothing, trinkets and various other stuff when he walked in with his bandmates.
🎸 It was fairly normal when he came in the store. It was dim with some random punk song playing faintly in the background. His friends started exploring, looking at the graphic t-shirts and mugs shaped like skulls and the like.
🎸 He got a bit bored and wandered to the other side of the store. It had posters, candles and..who's that?
🎸 There you were, staring longingly at a plush toy sitting on one of the shelves, just standing there.
🎸 He didn't think much of it, probably just some person baked out of their mind. "Hey buddy, you doin' good?"
🎸 You snap out of your gaze and look at the big hulking man in front of you. You stutter out an apology and explain your little misfortune.
🎸 "So you want this..toy...but you can't afford it..?" He raises a brow at you as you nod, making him chuckle.
🎸 He thought for a moment, looking at the stuffed creature, well it wouldn't hurt to buy it for you, he's pretty well off from all the gigs and concerts he's been in so...
🎸 "How 'bout I buy this thing for ya then? But you owe me~" He winks, thinking he could score some quick sex for being such a 'gentleman'
🎸 But no, instead of a blush or a knowing smirk, you just looked at him with the widest, most innocent eyes he's ever seen, you were practically shaking with joy as he said it.
🎸 You thanked him profusely before listing off things you could do in return, treating him to some food, buying something for him in return, plain paying him back..he was a bit surprised.
🎸 "O-oh...uhm that was a joke heheh, y-you don't have to do all that babe..." He blushes.
🎸 The two of you head to the cashier, his friends spying from behind the aisles as his gaze is locked on the little ball of cuteness beside him.
🎸 Seriously? Did you even know who he was? This has never happened before...most of the time, he would pay for someone's drink or something and they'd be on his dick in seconds, but you, you were so..different...it felt nice..
🎸 You didn't even get it in a bag, you immediately took the plush after it was paid and hugged it close.
🎸 so cute so cute so cute so cute so cute!!!
🎸 "Hey uh..so me and my buds are in a band and uhm..wanna maybe..watch our next gig?" He asks nervously, he's never been so shy towards anyone!!
🎸 You agree, thinking it's the least you could do for what he did for you.
🎸 You take out your phone, Axel can't help but grin at the case, it was cute, like you~..
🎸 "Here's my number if..you need it.." You smile at him, that smile..that damn cute smile...you had his heart wrapped around your finger at this point.
🎸 "Th-thanks sugar..I'll see you there.." He smiles back as you part ways, he heads back to his friends who were bombarding him with questions as he watches you skip out of the store with your new little soft friend.
🎸 That night, he was getting ready for the show when he got a message notification and sees that you sent a picture of the show from one of the seats with some text "Good luck out there!"
🎸 His face was on fire as he realized you were there, he peeks out in the crowd and there you were, your little plush toy in tow.
🎸 You look so out of place from the people in spiky jewelry and dark outfits, you were just in a hoodie and baggy pants, albeit the hoodie had a MCR design on it, but you can tell it was very soft compared to the rest of the audience.
🎸 Finally it was time for the show to begin and it was the most passionate he's been in a while, it seemed as if the words he was singing were dedicated to you and you alone.
🎸 The little glances at you made you giddy, like a friend seeing their bestie perform, you were cheering excitedly for him, not in a fangirly way, but one of genuine support and amazement.
🎸 After the performance, Axel tried finding you, but the crowd was too big and he assumed you must have left already.
🎸 Wait..why is he being so buddy buddy with you? You just met today! It's not like you two were best friends or anything!
🎸 He tried dismissing the thought of you, tried distracting himself by flirting with other people, but he could only think about you, and making you smile like that again..
🎸 no no no! get out of my head!
🎸 Maybe a little fling can ease his mind?
🎸 Even on his bed with some random girl after show, he can still think of you.
🎸 Would your skin be as soft? or maybe softer? How would your hair smell? He bets your moans would sound delicious..
🎸 shit FUCK!!
🎸 Even after his one night stand, he kept thinking of you
🎸 He stares at your messages, you sent a lot of pictures of your plush toy doing goofy things to him, so cute..so silly...he can't help but smile.
🎸 He decides to look you up on social media and..
🎸 Wait a minute...you make music too?
yep this was a bit short but idk man i love making you guys suffer <3 stay tuned for part 2 (i am actually out of ideas guys please request me please please ple-)
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femmefatalevibe · 9 months
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25 Life Lessons I've Learned In 25 Years
In honor of turning 25 this month, here are some lessons I wish someone could've baked into my brain by 18. Hope this helps xx
Putting yourself first is not selfish, it is an act of self-care. Actively discounting others is not the same as protecting your peace.
Pay attention to who gossips and keeps to themselves amidst an interpersonal conflict. Insecure people or those in the wrong will speak the loudest and go on the longest in a fight to prove their innocence. Individuals who are self-assured and comfortable with the truth know it's better to communicate their feelings appropriately and then move past it. Confidence is assertive, tactful, and relatively silent.
If you want to know who to believe in an argument, pay attention to how both sides speak about the conflict. The perpetrator will often speak about the individuals' character/morality while the victim will explain their personal experience in the context of the relevant situation.
Display empathy and consideration, but don't live to satisfy others' emotional needs and expectations. Say farewell to anyone who dismisses or guilts you for your own needs, emotions, priorities/life goals & aspirations.
Your needs matter. No one needs to approve or validate your desires. If someone feels they have control over you or tries to persuade you to change your mind to ensure you put their emotions and needs first, cut them out of your life. They do not care about you.
Almost no one deserves insider access into your life and mind. Upholding your right to privacy – especially regarding your finances, dating life, health conditions/concerns, and long-term goals – is the simplest way to protect your peace.
A friend to all is a friend to none. Be wary of those who will not stand up for you behind closed doors. These people do not care about you, they care about what your place in their life does for them and their ego.
Be radically honest and accepting of who you are. Don't apologize for your preferences, aspirations, and values. You deserve to live in a way that makes you happy, not to appease others in hopes of their approval or future favors due to your karmic good deeds.
You deserve happiness, love, and nice things, life experiences, relationships, and opportunities in your life regardless of what others may or may not possess/ be able to experience. Dispel this scarcity mindset ASAP. Jealousy and internalized shame are destructive to your self-esteem and all your relationships.
You are worthy and offer many incredible, unique gifts to the world. Don't allow naysayers, critics, or bullies (of any age) to dim your light or sacrifice pursuing your dreams. Decide you're the leader of your own life. Then act accordingly.
Direct communication is always the way. Remain tactful, but at least when dealing with non-manipulative people, always say what you mean and mean what you say. It will save a lot of trouble and petty disagreements that could've been avoided with clearer communication.
You don't owe anyone an explanation for your feelings, emotions, and actions that don't have a direct, inescapable impact on someone else. "No" is a complete sentence.
Approach conversations as a meeting of the minds. Healthy debate or conflict is about seeking to understand the other person, not prove yourself right. Leaving your ego at the door will allow you to expand your mind and avoid many unnecessary conflicts or arguments.
If it's not a hell yes, it's a no. For a job, date, sex, attendance at a time-sucking social event, family gatherings, an informal meeting not essential for you to keep your job, a wedding, birthday party, holiday invitation, etc. Outside of your contracted hours and time necessary to keep yourself/your home clean & well-maintained, you should spend your time exactly as you please. Doing things you don't want to do will only breed resentment down the line toward yourself and others.
Detangle yourself from any who refuses to self-reflect and take accountability. This person is selfish and will never see you as fully human with emotions, needs, and a complete life/internal world of your own. Cut them out (or at least fully emotionally detach and limit contact with them) immediately.
Speak your truth, but always say a little less than you feel necessary. Overexplaning and oversharing do you no favors. At a minimum, this approach allows you to protect your peace. In the worst circumstances, this tactic can also save you from a lot of trouble in your personal or professional life.
Learn to ask for a little more than you're comfortable with, but do so with grace, tact, and confidence. Whether it's a salary/rate negotiation, flight/hotel/restaurant accommodations, get in the habit of making that slightly higher/up-leveled request like you're expecting a "yes." You can't get something you don't ask for, so speak up and show you know your worth. This habit can bring a lot of great opportunity into your life and builds up your confidence.
Everyone is on their own timeline and path. Don't compare yourself to others' credentials, job titles, relationship status, net worths, or jean sizes. Comparison is truly the thief of joy. Remaining envious of others only takes up the energy that could otherwise be used to elevate or enrich your life.
Become clear on your priorities, and remain diligent with your habits & routines. Set SMART goals. Implement healthy habits and rituals into your daily lifestyle. Be consistent with goal-supporting and wellness rituals (generous sleep schedule, healthful eating habits, daily movement/regular exercise, reading, task time-blocking, cleaning, and life/work admin schedule), so they become second nature. Help yourself by creating these default habits to ensure your brain is wired for success whether you're in an easygoing era or a stressful life season.
Stop seeing other people (especially other women) as your competition in your profession/dating life and within your platonic relationships. Use your immediate criticisms as a tool for self-reflection. Actively deconstruct the patriarchy in every aspect of your life. Other women coworkers, dating prospects, and friends are not your rivals nor individuals who should be evaluated based on their assertiveness, sexual history/appeal, relationship status, or desire to perform traditional maternal/domestic roles.
Understanding how to interact with others in a cordial, tactful manner is significantly more important than having everyone like you. Learn how to positively influence people without seeking approval. What other people think of us is none of our business. All we can do is show up as the best version of ourselves, and remain optimistic about a potential connection.
Acceptance, accountability, and consistent discipline are the holy trinity to creating a sustainable change that you can maintain for the long haul. There's no shame in starting from the bottom, but you need to be honest about where you're at, so you can create a realistic game plan/small behavior-changing habits that stack up over time to help you implement the radical change you're craving.
Let go of any internalized shame. Being the "good girl" does you no favors in life. Set a standard and expectation to be respected, not to be perceived as "innocent" or submissive – this is how you get taken advantage of in professional, platonic, and intimate relationships. Remain ravenous for respect. It's the only way to live life to the fullest.
24. Investing in your appearance is a form of self-respect. Wanting to look & feel your best and present yourself in the best light possible to others is not a superficial pursuit. Remain unwavering about your hygiene/beauty/grooming routines, deliberate styling choices, healthy eating & workout habits, and mindfulness of social graces. You're your #1 publicist, so act like it. Life is all about embracing satisfaction with a sprinkle of reputation management.
25. Be unapologetic about your financial ambitions, priorities, investments, savings goals, etc. Financial freedom IS freedom. The only way to change the system is to break it from the inside out. Leverage is everything. Allocate, and assert your (financial) power wisely.
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onyourowndaisymae · 5 months
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mistletoe mayhem
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a/n: i wanted to get out a festive little piece before the holidays are over. sorry for the lack of posting-- i am so sleepy all the time. also i just got my wisdom teeth out so if this is nonsensical i do apologize. i am on several pain meds
characters + content: lucifer, satan, asmo, solomon, simeon x gn!reader
word count: ~1.3k
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prompt: it's christmas at the demon lord's castle. drinks are flowing, music is blasting, and you're caught up in the fun of the party with everyone in the main hall. when you slip away to grab yourself another drink, however, you collide with another body in the doorway. who is that? and what's that above your head, dangling from the doorway... is that... mistletoe?
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"Lucifer?"
colliding with the solid chest in front of you knocks some of the breath from your lungs. yet, you don't tumble to the unforgiving ground. you look up and see red eyes searching your face, gloved hands steadying you by the underside of your arms to keep you on your feet.
he breathes your name easily. "watch your step."
"my bad," you reply. you didn't even realize you were clutching the front of his coat until you let him go. lucifer's lips curl into an easy smirk as he crosses his arms.
you readjust your clothes and start to wander off with a polite nod, but his hand catches your arm again. "wait a moment."
"huh?"
his gloved finger points above you to the top of the doorframe. there, dangling above your head, is a bundle of mistletoe. you should have known lord diavolo would have the place decorated in such a way-- he'd been asking you for weeks about human traditions for the festive season. you must have told him about this one somewhere along the way. judging by the look on lucifer's face, he knows what exactly that leafy sprig means.
"mistletoe, is it not?" lucifer starts, then seems satisfied when you nod. "i owe you a kiss. if you'll allow it, of course." the smoothness of his offer makes your cheeks split with a delighted grin.
"i'd be offended if you didn't."
"and we can't have that, now can we? not during the holidays." and with that, his lips meet yours.
"Satan?"
a sharp swear hits your ears as strong hands catch you, gripping your shoulders with startling intensity as he somewhat forcibly props you back onto your own two feet.
satan's cheeks are flushed as he looks you up and down once more to make sure you're alright. his fingers find your shirt and dust you off once more for good measure.
"are you alright?"
"i'm okay," you answer, now secure in your own footing. "thank you for catching me."
"sorry for running into you in the first place."
there's a gap of silence. he shifts awkwardly on his feet, eyes flickering up above your heads to the top of the doorframe.
"is there something up there?" you ask. your gaze flits up above you to find a leafy sprig adorning the doorframe.
"if i'm not mistaken," satan says lowly, cheeks aflame and eyes darting from yours, "that's mistletoe. there's a human tradition where two people kiss if they're caught under it together-- i assume you've heard it?"
"i have."
there's another beat of silence where satan looks hesitant-- his body is angled towards yours, leaned in ever so slightly in interest, but his mouth doesn't move. the words won't come out. you can tell he's interested in the tradition, but he doesn't want to pressure you because of the tumble you almost took. you'd find it more endearing if it wasn't so silly.
"... do you want to give it a try? 'tis the season and all."
he lets out a breath you had noticed him holding and nods, scarlet in the cheeks as his fingers brush against yours. satan's lips find yours-- soft, grateful, melting into your touch as voices of your friends and family fade into the background.
"Asmo?"
"oh!"
two arms wind around your body, pressing you against him as the two of you fumble together lightly. you eventually find yourself unscathed and on your feet once more.
"sorry, hon, i didn't see you coming," asmo murmurs, fingers flitting over your form to help fix your hair and crumpled outfit.
"i'm sorry, too. i wasn't paying attention when i came around that corner. are you okay?"
"i'll be okay. now that i've got you alone, actually, i've been meaning to ask you about something."
a delighted little smile crosses his lips, and he takes your hands in his to coax you closer.
"anything, asmo. what's on your mind?"
"this whole mistletoe tradition solomon was telling me about, is it true? you really make out with someone under this plant? it sounds to me like one of the best human traditions i've heard in awhile."
"it's more of a kiss than a full make-out, but yes, sure, i do suppose it's an interesting tradition."
"and what's the plant look like?"
"uh, it's this leafy green little thing, usually tied up somewhere on the ceiling or in doorframes."
"like that?" asmo lifts a finger from your intertwined hands to point up with a devious grin. sure enough, above your head, you spot a sprig of mistletoe.
"you knew that was there, didn't you?"
"well i wanted to try out the tradition myself. and there's no one i'd rather do it with than you! so maybe i bumped into you on purpose to get you under here with me. is that so bad?"
as you find yourself leaning in to ring in the holiday season, you can't help but think maybe bumping into asmo under the mistletoe was a gift itself, even if it was a silly plot on his part.
"Solomon?"
"mc!"
your bodies bump together uncomfortably, and the two of you fumble together to stay standing. solomon's boyish laugh rings through the area, and you can't help but laugh a little yourself at the absurdity of almost bowling each other down on your way through the doorframe.
"are you alright?" he asks, giggles subsiding into a softness as his eyes scan you for any minor bruises or bumps.
"I'm alright. are you?"
"i am. better now that i have you alone."
"oh? and what is that supposed to mean?"
"did you happen to notice the mistletoe above us as you were walking this way?" solomon asks. your eyes drift upwards with his to see the plant hanging above your heads-- probably mistletoe, considering it's decorating the castle for the party, but honestly you'd never been close enough to know what it's really supposed to look like.
"not until now. assuming that's what that is."
"you think i'd lie about that?" he teases.
"oh, for sure. anything to get a kiss."
"ouch," solomon whines, pressing his hand against his chest to cover the emotional wound your words left. "i would never go so far as to deceive you. if i wanted a kiss, all i'd have to do is ask."
"that's true," you murmur, leaning in as he brushes his knuckles against your cheek.
silence.
"anyways," solomon starts, pulling away with a chesire grin and turning on his heel.
"solomon! you bastard! i thought you were gonna--!"
before you can protest further, his lips are on yours, grinning and kissing you senseless as he backs you up against that very doorframe-- to ensure you stay caught under the mistletoe, of course.
"Simeon?"
a gasp comes from the body you collide with, as sharp and unexpected as the collision you found yourself in. the body bumps into the doorframe with a muffled noise of surprise.
"oh, i'm so sorry! i didn't see you coming!" the apology is out of your mouth before simeon's fully steadied himself on his feet, but he's already chuckling jovially and reaching out to comfort you despite nearly tumbling to the ground.
"i'm sorry," he replies. "i should have been paying more attention."
he reaches behind him to adjust his cape, but his gloved fingers brush something caught in his hair and he frowns. you pull it out for him-- it's a decoration. leafy, green, christmas-y. you look above you to see the hook from which it hung in the doorframe now swinging empty after your collision.
"did i knock that over? i'll have to apologize to barbatos." simeon mutters. then, after a moment, "what is that?"
"mistletoe, i think."
"mistletoe?"
"it's a human realm plant," you tell the angel, twirling it in your fingers. "we hang it up around christmas time. it's for couples. when you stand underneath it together, you're supposed to kiss."
"oh," simeon answers quietly, cheeks heating up at your simple explanation. he looks pensive for a moment. "should i hang it back up?"
"huh?"
"well it sounds like a good excuse to kiss you, and i'm not one to let that chance pass me by. or can we just--?"
he gingerly slips the mistletoe from your fingers and holds it up above you, grinning bashfully. no more words are needed-- you answer the angel with a sweet kiss to mark the occasion.
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pinchofhoney · 7 months
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broken promises, part three
« part one | part two | part three (the last one)
coriolanus snow x fem!reader
word count: 3.4k
warning: angst, we used to be close but people can go from people you know to people you don't, mention of helping in the rebellion
summary: In Snow's world, only one thing mattered more than his family's reputation—you. But that was before he met Lucy Gray.
a/n: so,, this is the end of this little story of a heartbreak. thank you for sticking with it<33 for more coriolanus content, feel free to drop by my inbox where you can leave your ideas for the next oneshots!!
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: @metalarmsandmanbuns @mavkaorlova @strangegril002 @thathoefromcollage
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gif is not mine, credit to the owner
You'd be lying if you pretended not to be invested in the 10th Hunger Games. With Academy students participating this year, you had no choice but to follow the competition's every twist and turn, but even if it had been different, you'd have still tuned in from your home's television screen.
Despite the heated exchanges and angry words directed at Coriolanus, your best wishes were always with him. You genuinely hoped for nothing but the best for him, believing he'd achieve the deserved success he'd strived for and reach his craved scholarship, a gateway to boundless opportunities. In your heart, you rooted for Lucy Gray Baird's victory, as that seemed to be the only path leading to Coriolanus's dreams coming true.
Seeing Coriolanus each day in his perfectly fitted Academy uniform, hiding behind a facade of indifference that he never pull off around anyone outside his inner circle, playing the part of the model student, brought you pain. He gave off the impression that your past relationship had left no mark on him, leaving you in the dark about his true emotions and what was going on within his mind for the first time.
You were aware that everyone in your class had picked up on the shift between you and Coriolanus, though they tactfully avoided discussing it openly. You appreciated their silent understanding; no one was prying, and it allowed you to avoid discussing the painful change that had taken place. You didn't owe anyone an explanation, but it was easier to bear the weight of the situation when it remained unspoken. It stung to know that some girl from the District now held a more important place in your boyfriend's heart than you, someone he had known since childhood and shared the darkest moments of his life with.
The breakup with Coriolanus hit you like someone’s death. When you returned to the family penthouse, tears flowed endlessly from your eyes, and you couldn't seem to stop them. The persistent crying left you dehydrated, lying on your bed, cocooned in a blanket, your eyes red and swollen, and a pounding headache. The idea of consuming even a morsel of food felt impossible, and every inch of your room was a constant reminder of the moments you had shared with Coriolanus.
At times, you really wanted to approach him, to take the blame, to apologize for reacting hastily and to tell him that you should have let him handle things. But he treated you as if you were transparent. He had to feel your gaze on him, yet he chose to act as if you didn't exist, focusing all his attention on the Arena's broadcast screens, eagerly awaiting Lucy Gray's appearance.
As soon as the victory of the tribute from the Twelfth District became evident, you leaped to your feet, a genuine smile lighting up your face. Joining in the cheers and applause of your friends, you felt an urge to rush towards Coriolanus, but the memory of his distant gaze held you back. You knew you were no longer part of his happiness, no longer someone he wanted to share joy with.
With a lump in your throat, you discreetly cleared it, glancing around at other students. They seemed too absorbed in their own celebrations to notice your abrupt outburst. And so, you continued clapping, though the enthusiasm had waned, and the smile on your lips had dimmed.
You watched as Festus and a few other students hoisted Coriolanus onto a chair and paraded him around the podium and when they eventually placed him back on the ground, he turned his gaze toward you for the first time since your break up.
It was a brief look, lacking the joy in his eyes from seconds ago, but tinged with sense of satisfaction. It was a satisfaction born from the unexpected outcome, a result opposite to your wish for him to lose.
Afterward, all the students were directed into the dining hall to celebrate Coriolanus's victory with cake and posca.
And no longer after, the boy simply disappeared, slipping away from the festivities.
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As the final echoes of the Games' noisy cheers faded away, an unsettling silence descended upon the Capitol, and your mind was left in a whirlwind of questions and concern. The explanation provided by the Academy for Coriolanus's sudden departure to one of the districts, where he was enlisting for as a Peacekeeper, seemed like an ill-fitting puzzle piece in his life.
You knew Coriolanus better than most, his ambitions, his dreams, his unrelenting pursuit of victory. This decision, so out of character, scratched at the corners of your consciousness like an itch you couldn't quite reach. The nagging sense that something was amiss and missing from the narrative was an ever-present companion, casting a shadow over your thoughts.
But the mystery didn't end with his sudden departure. The day following the Games' conclusion, it was as if someone had meticulously wiped away any trace of the event's existence. Records, footage, and even the very name Lucy Gray Baird were methodically excised from history's pages. The thoroughness of this situation left you in a state of bewildered disbelief. The memories and echoes of the Games, once so vivid, now seemed to have been cast into a gap of forgotten time.
Your mind was a whirlwind of questions, each one clamoring for answers, but you knew that the truth was hidden beyond your reach. In all of these Capitol secrets, you had no choice but to accept the narrative spun by Doctor Gaul and Dean Highbottom, even if it left you feeling like a mere puppet, dancing to their tune.
You just clung to the belief that Coriolanus was out there, safe, and somehow untouched by the Capitol's ominous machinations. You didn't know the real reason for his leaving, but thoughts of his comfort were your only solace.
You longed to see him again, not only because of the warmth of his presence, but also because of the secrets he could hold. Yet, deep down, you knew that even if he were to find his way back to the heart of Panem, you would likely be the last person on his list to seek out.
On a day that was just like any other, as the Capitol went about its business, you found yourself outside your penthouse. It was just another moment in your everyday routine, all you wanted was to go for a walk, enjoying the last few days before university starts, unaware of things that were about to happen.
You were lost in thought, just looking around the familiar place when suddenly, someone stepped into view and your heart stopped for what seemed like a split second. It was Coriolanus, no doubt about it, but he had changed more than you could have imagined. He used to have those distinctive curls, but now, his hair was much shorter. His whole presence felt more reserved. Even the way he carried himself seemed different from what you were used to. Something about his aura had shifted, and it was not the same energy you once knew, not even the one he usually projected to others. It was a subtle change, but it was there.
Upon realizing that he was heading towards your shared building, a mix of emotions surged within you. Surprise and happiness due to the sight of the person you had missed so intensely warred with the memories of his abrupt departure, and the months of estrangement.
As he drew closer, you couldn't help but hope for a friendly reunion. You wanted to forget the past and bridge the distance that had grown between the two of you, but the Coriolanus who now stood before you was colder, more distant than ever before.
His eyes, which once held warmth and familiarity when they met yours, now seemed to pass right through you, leaving you with an unsettling sense that the Coriolanus you once knew had changed into a stranger.
“Coryo?” you cautiously greeted him as he drew closer, employing the affectionate diminutive form of his name. “I didn't expect to meet you here.”
Your friendly approach fell upon a wall of silence, an awkward pause hanging heavily between you. The air seemed thick with unresolved tension, and you questioned whether you should have simply pretended not to notice him.
“Dean Highbottom mentioned that you departed for Twelve to join the Peacekeepers,” you continued, attempting to engage him in conversation. Your gaze remained intent on his, even as his bored expression showed little sign of interest. This was undoubtedly one of the most awkward moments of your life, and the hope of a warm reunion was fading with each passing second.
You couldn't help but inquire further, “Was it because of Lucy Gray?”
Upon the mention of the tribute girl's name, a subtle shift occurred in Coriolanus's demeanor. He raised his head slightly, his gaze narrowing and his jaw clenching. The unexpected reaction baffled you, and a crease of confusion formed between your brows as you tried to comprehend his change in demeanor.
“Lucy Gray is gone,” he stated, his words dripping with coldness and arrogance, once again underscoring the transformation in his character. The warmth and compassion that had once defined your interactions now felt like distant memories, leaving you in the stark shadow of your shared past.
“Gone?” you repeated. His statement was quite confusing, and you struggled to grasp its meaning.
Without offering any clarification, he continued his stride towards the building's entrance, as if your presence had become irrelevant to him. Desperate for answers that had slipped away form you for far too long, you reached out and gently grasped the sleeve of his shirt to stop him.
“Coryo, wait,” you begged, looking into his eyes for a flicker of the person you used to know. The frigid stare he returned sent a chill through your spine, but your curiosity pushed you forward. “What happened? After... well, after you disappeared.”
His gaze dipped to where your fingers held on to his shirt, and the tension between you grew palpable. When you finally let go, his eyes met yours once more, and he spoke in a voice that held a hint of gentleness. “Do you really want to know what happened?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. He maintained his distance, standing tall and appearing to gaze down at you.
You didn't particularly like this version of Coriolanus, but at the same time you couldn't back down now; you had yearned for this moment for months.
In response to his question, you offered a simple nod, a silent invitation for him to share. The silence hung between you, heavy and full of unspoken emotions. Coriolanus glanced around, checking for any unwelcome listeners nearby, before answering.
“I've been through a living hell,” he responded curtly, leaving a trail of unresolved questions lingering in the air, but before you could voice these unspoken thoughts, he continued.
“I was forced to follow relentless orders each day, enduring the scorching sun that left burns on my skin, and the agony of taking three lives,” he recounted, as if each experience weighed equally on his conscience. “And those damn songbirds... they're a nightmare. They can drive you to the brink of insanity.”
You sought answers in his eyes, searching for any glimmer of the person you had known, but what you found was far from the warmth and compassion you remembered. It was as if something within him had been replaced by a hint of disdain.
“She betrayed me,” he continued, his voice carrying the weight of bitter disappointment, before you had time to sort out the chaos in your head. “Just when I thought I could escape it all and start a new life without constantly looking over my shoulder, she chose to abandon me.”
“What do you mean, Coryo?” you questioned, your forehead creased with worry as you gazed into his eyes.
“I killed Sejanus Plinth,” he confessed. Your lips parted in shock, and without realizing it, you instinctively moved a step away, creating a physical gap between you and someone who had once been an open book. Now, it felt as though you knew nothing about him.
You had heard rumors of Sejanus Plinth's death, but the details were murky. The nature of Coriolanus and Sejanus's relationship had always been a subject of speculation, leaving people to wonder whether they were genuine friends or just collagues. Coriolanus had occasionally expressed his frustration with Sejanus to you, but you had never imagined he would go as far as to take such a drastic step.
Coriolanus seemed oblivious to your reaction, his words continuing in a torrent of frustration. “But he deserved it. He could have listened to me and followed the rules for once. Instead, he chose to be a rebel, wanting to play the savior of the districts. That's how rebels end up,” his words were like shards of ice, driven by a wrath you had never seen in him before.
“I killed people who threatened her. I killed those who could be dangerous to Lucy Gray,” Coriolanus murmured. You gazed into his empty eyes as he continued and a sense of dread creeped over you. “And in return, she betrayed me, willing to see me suffer the same fate as Sejanus,” he said with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't risk being caught when I was mere hours away from leaving this wretched district.”
Your world seemed to crumble under the weight of his shocking confession. The inhumanity of his actions left you speechless, but Coriolanus appeared unaffected by your stunned silence.
He took a step closer, diminishing the gap between you, and you fought the urge to move back or look away from his piercing eyes.
“I'll make them all pay for it,” he declared with a small, unsettling smirk tugging at his lips. There was something in that expression that scared you, and now you were sure the boy standing in front of you was not the Coriolanus you had grown up with. “Every last one of them,” he added, presumably referring to the district residents with disdain.
With those words hanging in the air, he turned and disappeared behind the door of the apartment building, leaving you in a state of confusion and fear.
Many times, as you lay in bed at night, you often found yourself imagining the chance to see Coriolanus again. You wished that somehow, things could go back to the way they used to be, and that the warmth you once shared might return. But, the version of the man you just had a chance to look in the eyes filled you with nothing but fear now.
He seemed colder than his very name.
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64 YEARS LATER
The underground room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single overhead bulb casting elongated shadows on the faces gathered around the table. Maps, documents, and a tactical board cluttered the space, a visual representation of the Rebellion's intricate plans. The tension in the room was palpable, and when you walked in with a woman who bore a striking resemblance to a tiger in her appearance, the rebels shared uncertain, questioning looks.
Katniss, her unmistakable braided hair and fierce gaze, was the first to break the silence. Her voice cut through the tension like a blade, “Why are you doing this?”
Her eyes bore into yours with a mix of curiosity and concern, and you felt a dozen pairs of eyes in the room fixate on you. “Risking your life to help us take down Snow?”
You inhaled a quivering breath when the memories and thoughts weighing heavily upon your chest. In your mind, a series of images flashed – a time when Snow had been had been a very different person. You paused for a moment, your thoughts returning to the Coriolanus you had once been so familiar with. The recollection painted a vivid picture of Coryo as you remembered him: his charming smile, which he had once reserved solely for you, and his distinctive, curly hair.
“I'm doing this,” you began, your voice tinged with pain and longing, “because I used to know him very well.” You deliberately used the diminutive form of his name that had once been so familiar to you, “Coryo. We were close, once.”
The room fell silent, and a myriad of emotions passed over the faces of those assembled. Your words seemed to have caught them off guard, and you could sense their curiosity and concern.
“We were in a relationship, but he's not the person I once loved anymore. This Snow, the one we're fighting against now, is a monster. He's not the Coryo I knew. He deserves the worst.”
Peeta, who sat beside Katniss, let out a sigh, and his eyes held a profound understanding. His gaze, a clear blue in the dim light, softened as he looked at you.
“Sometimes people change,” Peeta said, his voice gentle. “I've seen it happen before.”
Katniss's expression hardened with resolve, her determination unwavering. “He's going to regret everything he has done in his life,” she said.
As Katniss's words hung in the air, you felt a wave of knotty emotions churning within you. Your gaze drifted downward to the shelter's dirt floor, where the tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to overflow. For years, you had yearned for justice to be served to Coriolanus, for him to face the consequences of his oppressive rule over Panem. It had been a sincere desire, one that had simmered in your heart, yet now, with the Rebellion's cause so close to success, you found yourself grappling with a bewildering conflict.
Coriolanus had long disregarded you, deeming you unworthy of his attention and companionship. He had tear your connection, but it didn't mean that you had forgotten the feelings you had once for him.
It was his treatment of those who still loved him, the suffering of his cousin Tigris, who had been a close friend of yours, that weighed on your heart. She had selflessly helped Coriolanus throughout the war, supported him during his first mentorship and long after, but his attitude toward her changed with each passing year, and you couldn't understand why.
Over the years, Coriolanus had allowed the Hunger Games to evolve into something even more grotesque and brutal, making even bigger spectacle out of the tributes' deaths. It had been a source of disgust, a reflection of his growing cruelty. You were repulsed by the Capitol, sickened by Snow's insatiable thirst for power and the desire to see him removed from his seat of authority had been a driving force.
Yet, something within you was blocking your resolve, sowing seeds of doubt and uncertainty. The conflict within your heart was a huge storm, with one part pulling you toward the rebellion and the other tethered to a past that still held the remains of the Coriolanus you had once known, loved, and miss.
But that boy from your youth was a distant memory, swallowed by the Coriolanus who had emerged over the years, especially during his time in the Twelfth District shortly after his victory in the Games.
You raised your eyes to meet Katniss's, and in that moment, your mind drifted to Lucy Gray Baird, an ironic twist of fate that wasn't lost on you.
As Katniss observed your internal struggle, her sharp instincts sensed that there was more to your hesitancy than met the eye. She furrowed her brows, her gaze unwavering, and asked, “Is there something else you would like to share?”
Peeta, who had been observing you quietly, echoed her concern with a compassionate look in his eyes. His gentle tone conveyed understanding as he said, “You can talk to us, you know. We've all had our reasons for joining this fight.”
Your throat felt constricted, and you struggled to find your voice amidst the chaos of emotions. With a hurried swallow and a deep breath to steady yourself, you cleared your throat and shook your head. You offered a smile, though it felt forced and inadequate for the gravity of the moment, as you moved closer to the table filled with scattered papers.
“So what’s the plan?” you asked, attempting to shift the focus away from you. Your eyes darted around the faces of those gathered around the tabletop, eager to immerse yourself in the cause, to be part of the solution to the crisis at hand.
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the-modern-typewriter · 6 months
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Hi! Would you be able to do a hero x villain scene with a villain that's used to trapping their opponents socially but the hero would rather just ignore that and punch them in the face, and the villain is kind of in love and kind of murderous?
The villain staggered back at the force of the punch with a groan of pain. They cupped a hand to their bloody nose.
The villain's various soldiers and lackeys immediately moved to restrain the hero.
"No." The villain held out their other hand. "No."
The lackeys froze, uncertain.
The hero, well-prepared for the possibility of fight, paused too. They shook out their fist, shoulders squared.
"Nice left hook," the villain said, straightening slowly. When they dropped their hand, the break had already healed, leaving only the blood.
"Fuck you."
"Yes, that might help your anger issues."
The hero scoffed. "I don't have anger issues, I just don't like being backed into a corner. I told you what would happen."
"Mm. That you did." The villain's head tilted. "Bold move."
"Clear communication. Do I need to do it some more?"
The villain grinned, letting their blood drip grotesque and feral across their teeth. They took a swaggering step forward, even as they neatly adjusted their outfit and rumpled hair back to the veneer of polite society. It didn't reach their eyes. Their eyes had that wild quality too, burning bright and fierce with something that the hero couldn't quite read.
"People generally prefer me when I keep things civil," the villain said. "It's neater. Safer for everyone involved."
"You mean, people normally cave because they're scared of you?"
"And you're not."
"If there's going to blood, let there be blood. I won't be bullied. Certainly not by the likes of you."
The villain laughed, a soft and rumbling danger. They swiped their tongue across their teeth, cleaning the blood away, and closed the distance with another step.
Apparently, they hadn't learned the dangers of getting too close.
The hero swung.
That time, the villain dodged, driving their knee deep into the hero's gut.
The hero doubled over, wheezing.
The villain caught a fistful of their hair, using the grip to smash the hero's face in one startlingly deft movement, before tipping the hero's head back before the blood splattered across the floor.
The whole room had gone quiet; focused in on the two of them. Someone had cut the music.
The villain grinned again. "So pretty."
The hero spat blood at them, but the villain didn't seem to mind. In the next instant, the hero had wrenched themselves free with an expert move.
The two of them circled.
The villain did not have a reputation for violence, or at least not for getting their hands dirty. They were a sleek monster, crafted of fine clothes and the clink of glasses and clever words in the shadowy backrooms that ruled the world.
"You're right," the villain said. "I do prefer less...crude games, than this. We're a civilized species. We should know better. Do not mistake my distaste for incapability, though."
The hero snarled. "Silvered words doesn't make what you do less ugly."
"A moral high ground doesn't make you less of a brute, gorgeous."
"I'm not a brute, you condescending-"
"-temper, temper." The villain's voice was a purr. "Have I struck a nerve?"
The hero lunged.
The villain dodged.
They circled again, more evenly matched than the hero had expected. They'd thought a hard hit, the possibility of real danger, would reveal the villain's sniveling heart. The cowardice at the core of so many powerful, evil people.
"You owe me an apology," the villain said. "I was having a perfectly lovely time. If you give me one now, like a good little hero, this doesn't have to get...unpleasant."
"Your face is unpleasant. Everything about you and what you do is unpleasant. I'd rather not lie."
The villain's eyes flashed, a mix of rage and desire. Then, their power lashed out. The windows shattered. People screamed. People fell.
The hero stared around the room, horrified.
"Far be it from me to deny a guest," the villain said, drawing their power back to themselves. "Let there be blood."
The fight escalated from there.
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ddejavvu · 9 months
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Omggg I love the fic of drunk reader kissing Spencer, could you write a second part to that? Maybe he takes reader home and she asks him to stay over and she wakes up all giggly and embarrassed (even tho she doesn’t regret it) after seeing his face stained w the lipstick? Thank you🥰
part 1
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Spencer wakes up to the distinct feel of something wet and slimy on his face, two sensations that he's not prepared for or happy with.
He blinks his eyes open and you're hovering above him, one of his cheeks cupped in your hand while you smear a makeup wipe over his forehead.
"Oh, Spence," You fret, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to wake you up, I thought you'd be tired enough to sleep through it."
Spencer's such a light sleeper that a gentle breeze could wake him. But he's not going to tell you that; he doesn't even think that he can. The feeling of his face held so delicately in your hand while you tend to his rather messy skin is something that's managing to short circuit his typically agile brain, and all he can do is watch as you wipe away your lipstick from the night prior.
"I got you good," You muse, tone cautiously amused. He manages a bashful smile and nod, and you target a kiss mark beside his left eye now.
"I was really drunk," You laugh bashfully, "Sorry, Spence. I- uh, I saw the picture Hotch took, he sent it to our group chat. I'm sure you didn't want me crawling all over you. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable.
"No," Spencer isn't good at speaking right now, but he knows he has to, "No, don't worry about it. Everyone's more wild when they're drunk."
"Except for Rossi," You reason, smudging away the final mark on his chin now, "He just gets philosophical."
Spencer sits up from where he'd been reclined on your couch, and there's an ache in his back. It was worth it though, and he hopes you don't apologize for him having to sleep on the couch.
"I'm sorry you had to sleep on the couch," You lament like clockwork.
"It's okay," Spencer insists, straightening his spine and hearing a slight pop, "I don't mind, really. I wouldn't have wanted to leave you here alone."
"In my own apartment?" You quirk a brow at him.
"I wanted to make sure you didn't throw up in your sleep," Spencer nods, "Because people can choke and die that way."
You look mildly alarmed, and Spencer thinks he needs to work on his flirting skills.
"But- uh, you didn't. Which is great." He smiles, lips pulled into a slightly curved line, and you mirror the expression.
"Great," You echo, "Do you want breakfast?"
"Uh- sure." Spencer nods, rising from the couch, "I can help make it-?"
"No, no," You rush back to him from where you'd been heading towards the kitchen, pushing at his shoulders until he falls back down onto the couch, "Just stay there, Spencer. You helped me a ton last night, I owe you one. Okay?"
He disagrees; you could never owe him anything. He'd give his all to you with no expectation in return. But he nods to appease you, "Okay."
"Okay." You repeat with a smile, and hesitantly, you lean in to kiss his now-clean cheek.
"No lipstick this time," You grin bashfully as you pull back, but his face is tinged so red that you think you're mistaken for a moment, "Thanks, Spence."
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evilcowgirl · 8 months
Text
jealous ellie headcanons
ft. sapphic longing
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i get my inspo from sintuationships bc im real
୨♡୧
ellie doesn't like not being around you at social events, or with you out of her sight. it stresses her out so much that she can't even properly enjoy herself without you close to her. can barely pay attention if someone's speaking to her because shes busy trying to watch you in the crowd.
convinces herself that everyone wants you. you often have to assure her that your friends and other people you interact with casually aren't secretly pinning over you or waiting on the opportunity to make a move. she never believes you, always stuck on the idea that you're too good to not have a billion more options.
ALWAYS thinks someone is flirting with you, and get pouty about it. when she's feeling bold enough she'll say something direct.
"i mean you didn't see the way she was looking at you from my perspective, you guys were basically at 3rd base."
ellie knows that you're only her friend, that you don't owe her loyalty, but anytime you bring up time you've spent with someone else she goes all quiet and short with you, not because she's mad at you, but because she gets an unexplainable feeling in her stomach like she's gonna drop dead when she thinks of you enjoying the company of anyone else but her.
cannot go an hour without bringing you up to other people (barely exaggerating.) her mind wanders to you so often she hardly even notices it. at the sight of a trinket you'd like, or a color she knows you love. whenever she hears someone say something that reminds her of you, she's quick to to point that out. you stay on her mind always.
can't handle being away from you too long, she gets antsy and starts asking around about your whereabouts. especially when she's missing you, all hell breaks loose. when she finds out that you were only getting lunch or something simple like that she feels embarrassed at how desperate she was to find you. (she'll definitely do it again tmr.)
likes to see you sitting in her room, around all her stuff doing whatever. painting your nails, reading, listening to music ect. just getting to see you in her personal space makes her happy. knowing that you're safe and with her.
will start an argument if she doesn't know where you've been. arguing with ellie is always slightly maddening because shes so nonchalant when she's being ridiculous that it makes you question yourself.
she's so sweet and nervous when she apologizes though, going over what shes going to say over and over in her room and still messing up.
"i'm just—fuck this is stupid—i shouldn't have said what i said to you. . . about the thing earlier?" she'll look away like a scolded puppy waiting on you to say something. "i'm sorry."
if you accept her apology, you can visibly see the fear leave her body. the worst thing that could happen to her is losing you and anytime she thinks that might happen her whole world gets turned upside down until she knows you're okay with her.
she doesn't see you as her property, just something really special that she wants to keep safe and close.
likes to keep a hand on you when you're walking with her. on your waist, a hand around your wrist or tugging at your clothes when she needs you to follow. she doesn't care if people notice, she'd prefer them to see actually.
writes the little things she notices about you down like she's studying you or something. the way you look at her when you're listening intently, how you act when you're sleepy. things she knows no one else would take note of. she jots down her thoughts about you when they're overwhelming because it helps, talking about it isn't an option she doesn't want to share you with anyone.
"she's so pretty when she's doing her hair, like a fucking angel on earth. she's driving me INSANE. i feel like i'm going to mess this up somehow."
gets jealous when you're babying dogs in front of her and will admit it !
"you never pay that much attention to me." when you totally do.
huge complainer, she's so bold about it too ! if you're spending any extra time with someone she'll get all dramatic about it and ask when you guys' wedding is and if she can be the maid of honor because shes petty.
can and will make things a competition if that means she'll get the chance to show off to you. some guy your age is impressive at target practice? she'll make an effort to double what he did just to say she can.
"i guess I've just had more experience." meanwhile she knew exactly what she was doing.
getting praise from you is like her main goal, anytime you let her know you're proud of her she feels like the most capable person on earth. on the other side of that is her absolutely debilitating jealousy when it comes to hearing you brag on other people. ellie doesn't pride herself on being nice but she gets pretty mean when she feels like you're giving attention she should be getting to others. you mention how well jesse did on his patrol and all of the sudden she's going on about how she's killed more infected as a kid than jesse could even imagine seeing.
oppositely, shes so sweet to you when you're feeling down, always making sure you know no one's allowed to mess with you (other than her) and if someone had she'd set things straight.
when you're feeling bad, or you're sick she likes to watch you sleep because you look peaceful and its ideal for her to see her girl safe nd happy.
strokes your hands and face while you're asleep, careful not to wake you. she's so infatuated and isn't quite sure how to handle it yet but for now she's able to roll with just being your person.
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puppy-steve · 6 months
Text
i keep thinking about that one bachelor au post so here's my take on it (i've never watched the bachelor or bachelorette so bear with me)
the bachelor au where steve's the bachelor and eddie is a contestant, but not because he actually wants to be, he's just in it for the paycheck. robin is also a contestant but only because her parents sent in her application without her knowing and she isn't out to them yet.
they both think that steve is overrated and definitely over hyped. typical rich kid with enough money to buy people's love, yada yada.
until they both start going on dates with him and then realize that it isn't exactly true. yes, he's rich, but he's also kind and funny and actually genuine once you get past the mask he puts on for everybody. eventually, eddie and robin find themselves looking forward to their dates.
only robin doesn't want to date him. he's slowly moving his way up the ranks to becoming her best friend, sure, but this is still tv. she's still expected to kiss him and confess her feelings for him. and when the time comes for her to do that, she can't.
they're in venice. steve is leaning in and robin is very aware of the cameras filming them. the back of her neck goes cold and her stomach churns and suddenly she's running in the opposite direction. her italian is passable so she ends up getting a taxi back to the hotel production put them in.
she locks herself in her en suite and presses her forehead against the cold porcelain. she doesn't know how long she sits there until her phone buzzes and she checks the notification. the nausea rises up her throat again. she forgot she gave steve her number.
there's a knock on her room door and another text.
r u ok? can i come in?
robin debates it but figures she owes him and explanation. she lets him in and they sit on the bathroom floor. robin tells him why she's on the show in the first place, about how she didn't know her parents signed her up until she got the phone call from the casting director. tells him that even if she gets kicked off, she can still use the money for her student loans.
she stares at the water in the toilet bowl when she comes out to him.
steve is quiet, processing, before he laughs. he's not laughing at her, he promises, but "robin. you're on a show with more than a handful of other queers, you know that, right? i'm bisexual."
and yeah, robin knew that, but it's different when you're not into the guy you're supposed to be romancing at all.
steve reassures her that it's okay, and that he still hopes they can be friends and keep in touch after the show ends.
robin would like that.
she apologizes to the production crew the next day and they're understanding and steve and robin get a re-do of their date. it's much more genuine this time, filled with laughs and digs as they eat gelato along the river and people watch and gossip.
it's the best robin's ever been on.
eddie, on the other hand. he's absolutely head over heels for steve, which is surprising even for him. he's trailer park trash, he's got absolutely nothing on steve harrington. not the name, not the money.
hell, the very first day, he insulted the guy's food choices right to his face without knowing it.
eddie wants the earth to give way underneath him and swallow him whole.
he plays it up on their first date, all fake niceties and empty smiles, until steve tells him point blank, "the guy that said the buffet was shit that first night? i want to get to know him."
eddie's flabbergasted.
steve opens up about all the fake people in his life, the ones who just take advantage of them and use him for their own gains. the ones who don't even bother to get to know the real him. the one that likes to play guitar and hang out with the gaggle of teenagers that follow him around all the time for some unknown reason.
he tells eddie about what he wants to do with his life, not what someone else has planned for him and eddie falls deeper and deeper.
this time, when steve leans in for a kiss, eddie doesn't shy away. their lips press together and it's the best goddamn kiss either one of them have ever had.
the show has a deadline, of course, and steve can't just spend all his time with eddie and robin. there are other contestants. robin knows her rose is strictly platonic and steve has already called her multiple times freaking out about his growing crush on eddie. she knows eddie has this in the bag.
the final night comes and the contestants have dwindled. there's only a small group of them left: eddie, robin, and another guy and girl they didn't bother learning the names of.
when steve chooses eddie after a moment of dramatic silence that kind of puts his own dm dramatics to shame, eddie doesn't hesitate to jump in steve's arms, wrap his legs around his waist, and plant a sloppy one on him right in front of the cameras.
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heretherebedork · 7 months
Text
I, for one, will forever be grateful to Only Friends for giving us Boston.
Because to take a character the narrative has condemned and make him not only the most loved but also the most sympathetic character while also being the messier and having his own deep struggles is a thing of beauty and talent.
But I especially want to highlight a few things about Boston. Because these are all the ways I came to love him.
He's a born this way gay man who is never shown to question or doubt his sexuality.
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2. He is openly promiscuous and not only enjoys sex but enjoys having sex with multiple people. (He's an asshole and his moral code is his own but he sticks to it.)
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3. He owns his own filth within said moral code.
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4. He is the first person to say you can't turn someone gay.
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5. He thinks he knows how to throw a punch but really doesn't tend to despite his own words.
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6. Openly distinguishes between sex and romantic love
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7. Is the only one of his friends capable of a sincere apology when he was wrong and wronged them and will go out of his way to make a sincere one with them even if they don't deserve it and would never admit to owing him one at all.
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In fact, he does it twice.
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8. He knows when not to apologize.
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And, most importantly of all... he can be a petty bitch.
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We stan him and we apologize for him and we love him for all of it.
Boston, the king of the sluts, the character who was condemned by the narrative for his ways but that the fanbase will forever love because he was something so unusual in BL that it made him beautiful.
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luveline · 6 months
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hey jade! i loved your vampire!sirius fic it was so cute!! i know it’s not halloween anymore but could you write another one of vampire!sirius with that unphased reader please?
hi lovie!! for u
Sirius pushes you down by the throat, his eyes narrowed and his weight heavy on your stomach. You squirm beneath him, trying to push him off. 
"Ow…" You cover his hand. "Not so rough." 
"Sorry," he says, hand moving to your shoulder. His apology is genuine, soft as silk, as are his hands where they wander. "I just missed you." He tucks his arm behind your neck and leans in for a hug. 
You giggle. "Yeah? Me or my circulatory system?" 
"Don't say stuff like that!" He kisses you atop your pulse, the place he so often nibbles. "I missed you." 
You grab handfuls of inky hair and hug him back. You can't say you weren't expecting to be taken to bed the moment you got back, but you absolutely thought it would be for a feeding or some weird bloody fun. This is unexpected, but still nice. "You smell nice," you mumble, closing your eyes. 
He kisses your neck. His lips travel upward, nothing seductive or smooth about it —this is all clumsy, chaste sweetness, and it's knocking you off kilter. "I don't think you should go away again." 
"It was four days." 
"Have we been apart four days? Since we met?" 
No. You and Sirius have become that irritating weirdo couple that met and immediately fell in love, so to speak. You live in the other's lap, and you have no regrets thus far. It's odd how well you get along, but he's an odd creature, and you're worse if he's to be believed. My little freak never sounded so saccharine. 
Even when he pulls up to tower over you and that strange alarm bell in your head begins to ring, your adrenaline spikes, the glint of his sharp fangs and the predatory thinning of his irises activates an innate fight of flight, but in your head? You have no urge to move. It doesn't make any sense. "No," you answer, having almost forgotten. "We haven't." 
His cheek is scratchy in your hand. "And look at the consequences. I've been forced to drink from other people and you've taken up a barrage of exciting new boyfriends–" 
"Well, I haven't," you say, grinning at him. "You're the only boyfriend for me. I tried, but the supernatural find me so very off-putting. I can't imagine why." 
"Oh, you tried?" he asks, dropping his face to dig his nose under your jaw. He kisses you, but you know he's doing that as an afterthought, the nose jabbing his main prerogative. 
"Not really." You cup the back of his head. "Are you hungry?" 
"Would you stop it? I'm trying to express my love for you and you're desperate to play victim." 
"I'm just wondering." 
His fang scratches your skin, a graze. The blood it produces wouldn't so much as wet his fingernail, but he licks the wound to seal it and kisses straight up your cheek to the corner of your eye. "Please," he says, relaxing into your hold, "don't go on holiday again. At least for the next century." 
"So for the rest of my life?"
Sirius scoffs. "If you think I'd let you die an old crone, you're stupid. You're stuck with me forever." He doesn't sound quite as sweet when he says it like that, a solidness to his declaration that should give you goosebumps. "You belong with me." 
It should freak you out. What a strange thing to say. What a weird thing to picture. 
"You really don't want me around for my endless buffet?" you ask. 
"Don't be stupid. If blood were your most valuable trait I would've drained you the night we met. It's a little bonus for now, and in a few years when you're ready you'll drink some of my blood and be my wife for the rest of time." 
You lean back to look at him. "What if I'm ready now?" 
He moves to mouth kisses into your soft jaw. "Darling, why rush? You can only get more perfect." He laughs into his kisses, speaks smushed and warm into your skin, "What if I'm ready now?" he repeats, kiss-kiss-kissing. "You aren't scared of anything, are you, my love?" 
"I'm certainly not scared of you." 
"You might be scared of never eating crisps again though, hmm?" 
You think about it. "Alright. In a few years." 
"That's my girl." 
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