#god im gonna shut up now this is so horrendously long
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ok sure i'll talk about farleigh start. i'll talk about his tragedy of never being enough as it were and then having to deal with fucking oliver. sure. disclaimer: it's about class (and race) and the horrible reality of the rich. the horrible reality of living as farleigh.
another disclaimer: i'm white! and poc definitely pick up on everything i'm talking about here as it is, and better. i was and am specifically interested in farleigh vs. oliver but it's impossible to examine without considering race. definitely let me know if anything abt this sucks!
farleigh and oliver are similar. it's annoying because every intruder that is not himself is annoying, partly because felix's attention swaying from farleigh is dangerous; there is always a threat of being discarded, even if no precedent existed. the potential is terrifying.
but you'd think he's seen this before, every summer (if venetia is telling the truth) or at least often enough to learn to recognize it fast, so he should know this will pass. part of it is i think still the deep anxiety, and i think he hated every boy that was there before, and it is sort of routine.
but definitely a huge factor in farleigh's annoyance is the fact that he's a biracial (black for cattons, that's all they see) man in a white rich household. he's alert and exhausted all the time. of course he's angry at oliver, regardless of whether he's the first to crash at saltburn for the summer or the fifty-first.
but the important thing is this.
farleigh is very jealous of and angry and pissed at oliver because farleigh sees all the similarities between them. outsider, in financial trouble, whatever it is, in need of cattons; and yet oliver is preferred. and farleigh seems to be the only one to really consider it. felix does not pick up on the hint when farleigh brings up the birthday party vs. his mother. felix's clumsy "different or... anything like that" is as much about race as it is about class, of course. the "we've done all that we can" bit is felix absolving himself of guilt because surely they had, surely the mysterious collective cattons that he's not really part of had tried all they could do. to him, farleigh is different from oliver, because farleigh has been helped. felix is rich and white and twofold uncomfortable with farleigh, even if he's nice about it, even if he genuinely enjoys his company; he doesn't look too close at farleigh because he feels too guilty to come too close. and farleigh can't do anything about it. he can't nice himself into it. the fucking tragedy of him is that he's never enough in the world of the ultra-rich white, even if (especially because!) he's born into it.
farleigh is very pissed at oliver because farleigh also sees all the differences between them. you know who can be nice poor white enough to fit in? fucking oliver. felix says "just be yourself, they'll love you" when oliver first moves in. farleigh was also probably told the same thing, and felix also probably believed that farleigh could just be himself, but even if the cattons were magically not racist at all (impossible), it wouldn't make a difference to farleigh. he would still self-censor, keep in check, be in dangerous waters (because racism is not just about the individual, but about the system). we see that he'd won himself leeway by years of trial and error by the way he speaks to the family, but it's still within the boundaries of acceptable, built by the cattons. he's part of them because they allow it, and farleigh is very, very aware.
the annoying thing is oliver can be himself. like, truly, genuinely, he can just be. and farleigh can't help but envy that.
as a side note, oliver is obviously jealous of farleigh in the beginning as well, because regardless of the reality of farleigh's situation, he was born into it, and hence, at least in oliver's mind, has his position solidified. oliver's whole thing is unquenchable thirst and hunger for whatever and everything the cattons have (including themselves!). he wishes to have been a catton from birth. to oliver, at first, there's nothing farleigh can really do to lose it. and until he figures out the cattons completely, he can't help but envy that.
but i think farleigh senses something different about oliver early on. at least on the level of the text, we have "you're almost passing [for] a real, human boy", which is so important because farleigh is the first to point out oliver's weirdness. the next to do so is venetia in the bath scene calling him a freak, but it's too late. farleigh is too early.
and i like to think he clocks oliver too early because he sees the jagged edges that he recognizes in himself. i think that one other thing that farleigh envies is oliver's freedom to let go. freedom to let go is very similar to freedom to be, but not quite the same.
to be is about perception: farleigh knows he cannot fall out of line, but would like to, and oliver does not have to worry about it at all (i mean, he does, because oliver also performs for felix, but farleigh doesn't know that).
to let go is about the self: farleigh is too scared to even want what oliver eventually does, to even consider the possibility. oliver can let himself want. oliver can let himself act. oliver just can do things and want things. i'm not sure farleigh can.
and so in this scene, when oliver's wants and actions have landed him nowhere with farleigh, felix, venetia, the cattons, of course farleigh gloats. he can let himself do that, because if the cattons are slowly discarding him, farleigh can allow himself this one small victory. he's relieved because despite the dangerous similarities, oliver is, thankfully, not really the same as farleigh, right?
but like. this movie is a love letter to all things gothic. oliver is a white man. he prevails. the brief performance that oliver put on did eventually end up more effective than farleigh's lifetime of constraint. my heart fucking breaks for him to be honest.
the issue that remains is the fact of farleigh's survival. i like to think that oliver came to respect him. oliver is smart, but farleigh is clever. he picks up on everything oliver does (to refer back to the karaoke scene, farleigh immediately retaliates in the cleverest way, in the moment), and he's the only one to do so consistently (venetia, again, for example, comes close, but too late; oliver doesn't like that, there's nothing to work with). hence, stay with me for a little longer, the paradox: farleigh survives because he was never enough for the cattons, but he is very worthy of oliver's attention. in his own freaky way, oliver wants him. look at that.
so. farleigh. farleigh might come back. he always comes back. and i think oliver wants to try harder next time.
#saltburn#farleigh start#i think someone mentioned how the race commentary was fleeting in that scene abt his mom but i disagree#it runs thru the whole movie#because oliver is white and because they're pitted against each other#im not saying its the best commentary ever and also like the movie is not about it at all#but it's there and it's pretty prominent#also on a completely different note can we talk about how oliver correctly assumed everyone at saltburn desires him carnally#dude pulled all the bitches by being strange and off-putting. i mean i completely get it. completely get it. i'd fold so fast you've no ide#also while i was writing i realized that yes indeed both farleigh and oliver perform for felix and its so fascinating#and it works for oliver because of course it does because hes white#anyway! again! let me know if this sucks#in like any way at all#i needed a masterpost of all and every thought i have about farleigh#i think this pretty much covers it so i'll let it go now#HES SO. like do you UNDERSTAND#the DEFINITION of doomed by the narrative but i LOVE that he survives#as he SHOULD#emerald is so right. he does come back and quickstart just torture each other in that house forever. besties for life#god im gonna shut up now this is so horrendously long#mine#saltburn journaling
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Ok ok- don’t judge me but get this- College AU, Where Ereh and his friends all go to a nearby maid cafe and turns out his s/o works there, and his s/o is wearing a EXTREMELY short maid outfit and she starts to flirt with Eren’s friends, and basically Eren had enough and dragged his s/o to a bathroom stall, and fucked them calling y/n their little slut, etc. and fucked them so hard they couldn’t work the rest of the day- BYE- 🏃🏻♀️ 💨 🚪
maid cafe
a/n: i would never judge you for this???? your mind is incredible and this idea has corrupted my brain for days,, please send more of your wonderful ideas to my inbox. and please let me know what u think bc i truly hope i did u proud
eren yeager x female maid cafe!reader
synopsis: eren and his friends go to a maid cafe and his new girlfriend is their waitress — so he drags her to the bathroom and makes sure she knows who she belongs to
tags/warnings: smut, dom/sub, degrading, mild humiliation, mirror sex, public sex, mentions of drug use
word count: 3.4k
“hey, we should check out that maid cafe downtown. i heard the waitresses are fine,” jean smirked as he proposed the idea, passing a blunt he’d just finished rolling over to eren.
eren graciously accepted the weed, but clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes at jean’s new idea for their friday night. a maid cafe wasn’t particularly up his alley -- he’d just started dating you a few weeks ago and didn’t have any interest in drooling over other women all night. but he was bored and if everyone else wanted to go, he supposed he’d tag along too.
“hell yeah, pretty girls in short skirts sounds good to me,” connie jived, a giddy smile on his face as he blew out some smoke from his own blunt.
“don’t you think that kind of place is a little disrespectful, guys? we shouldn’t view women as-”
“you’re too uptight armin, maybe we can find a nice girl to suck you off and loosen you up a little bit” jean laughed and cut him off as the blonde boy continued to give his immature friends a disapproving look.
“whatever i’m in, just let me finish this first,” eren held up his blunt and took another long drag, “i wont be able to stand you assholes all night if im not high”.
the four of them hung around their shared four-bedroom college apartment a little longer, finishing up their smoke sesh and flinging half-assed insults at one another. the sky was already getting dusky by the time they actually left and were walking through the small, bustling town surrounding their campus. the cafe wasn’t too far, maybe a thirty minute walk, but it was a beautiful spring night and shit, gas is expensive.
armin’s face was horribly flushed when they finally arrived and entered the front door, the poor boy completely unable to even make eye contact with the hostess standing in front of them. his shyness earned him a swift elbow from eren — his way of telling the blonde boy to relax a little bit.
the young hostess spoke to them in a sing-song tone, her hair perfectly curled to frame her face and her cheeks pink with blush. connie and jean completely ate up everything she was doing, gawking at her like a bunch of losers who hadn’t gotten laid in way too long — which is exactly what they were. eren was almost relieved when she finally sat them at a table and walked away, because he couldn’t stand to listen to jeans' horrendous attempt at flirting any longer.
everything on the menu had cute names that matched the theme of the cafe, and while eren and armin browsed the options, connie and jean continued to whisper about the different waitresses and which one they hoped they got.
as for you, it had been a pretty uneventful night, normal customers and nothing too crazy — that was until you walked up to the newest table you were assigned and saw your boyfriend and his friends sitting around the booth. eren and you hadn’t been dating all that long, a few weeks at most, and you hadn’t even met any of these friends yet. anxiety began to pool in your chest, but you tried your best to put on your best voice and greet them like they were any other table — after all, eren was staring so intently at the menu that he hadn't even noticed you yet.
“welcome home, masters! can i get any drinks for you?” you push your voice up to a high octave and make sure to draw out the word masters — it was the opening line that every waitress was required to use by the cafe.
two of the four boys are ogling at you so intensely that they might as well have drool hanging off their desperate lips. a third boy is keeping his eyes fixated on the table as if he doesn’t want to look at you — which is something you’re not quite used to. and eren is staring at you with his mouth gaping open, which he quickly shuts before any of his friends can notice.
he decided to sit back and watch, an amused look on his face as you continue to flaunt your extra-girly facade. he decides that now isn’t a great time for introductions to his bonehead friends — plus he knows you’re nothing like this in real life, so it’s entertaining to watch you act so out of character.
not to mention you look hot as fuck in your skimpy maid outfit — the tight corset-like top hugged your breasts perfectly and your skirt was so short he could practically see the base of your ass cheeks. he could definitely get used to seeing you like this.
but his amusement quickly started to fade as connie and jean shamelessly showered you in compliments and flirted with you like their lives depended on it. and what makes it worse is you’re playing along — he gets that it’s your job but still, can’t you just tell them to shut the fuck up?
he shoots the two idiots across from him a dirty look as soon as you walk away, “hey dumbasses, cut the girl a break”.
“hey man, i didn't hear you call dibs or anything,” connie raised an eyebrow at him.
“yeah dude, we’re just fucking around, chill,” jean added, a light laugh hanging off his last word.
eren couldn’t do anything but roll his eyes in response. he didn’t want to outright expose your relationship yet but he wouldn’t be able sit here and watch this all night either.
his blood was practically boiling when you returned with a tray full of their drinks. connie and jean turned their charms right back on for you, and fuck, if he had to hear you call them “master” one more time he was gonna lose his mind.
“armin get the fuck out of the booth,” he glared at the blonde boy, practically pushing him out of the booth so he could get to you.
armin yet out a small yelp, clambering out of his seat and letting eren climb out after him. the dark haired boy gave you the sweetest smile, but his eyes were lit up like flames.
“hey, mind showing me where the bathrooms are?”
you find yourself frozen in place for just a second, but quickly recover and give him a quick “of course master, follow me!”
the two of you walk to the bathroom in silence, but you can practically feel the heat radiating off of eren.
when you reached the restrooms you opened the door for him and bowed your head, but he grabbed your wrist and yanked you inside behind him, earning a small yelp from you. you noticed him snap the lock down behind him, and before you could even question his motives you were backed into a wall with his lips working roughly against yours.
“so this is what you do all day? walk around with your ass hanging out while calling people master?” he growled in your ear while moving down towards your neck and placing violent kisses along the sensitive skin.
“i- ah- if it bothers you-“ you breath out between gasps, your hands pressed defensively to his chest, “god, you reek of pot, eren”.
“no, it doesn't bother me, i love watching you flirt with other men. but let me remind you who you actually belong to now,” he murmured, voice dripping with sarcasm as he nibbled up to your ear and his hands fondled with the zipper at the back of your uniform.
“eren!” a strangled yelp leapt from your throat as he unzipped you and let your costume fall around your ankles.
for a second you thought about trying to stop him, but his hot lips against your cool skin was starting to win you over. your neck was undoubtedly covered in bruised love marks now, your skin aching in the most beautiful way.
“take it all off,” he mumbled into your ear as he snapped the strap of your bra against your skin.
“we’re in a bathroom eren, i don’t-“ you tried to reason with him, but any inkling of a rational thought was long gone from his mind.
“what’s with all the protests? you had no problem following orders when my friends were the ones giving them,” he cocked an eyebrow at you and lifted his loose shirt over his head in one swift motion.
you could have retorted or made a jab back at him, but your attention was caught up in the perfect lines of eren’s physique. between the sculpted curves of each of his muscles, his dark hair tied in a loose knot at the base of his neck, and the evil smirk across his lips, you were rendered indefensible. everything about eren was so intoxicating, and the idea of letting him have his way with you right now, in this bathroom, was starting to sound less and less like a bad idea. you weren’t sure how long you’d been staring and admiring when his lusty voice filled your ears again.
“did you forget how to use that pretty mouth of yours? i’m sure i can give you a little refresher,” he faked a frown and pointed to the floor with his index finger.
without a shred of reluctance you sunk to his feet. he had you in a state of utter compliance now, and all he had to do was mutter a few arrogant words and take off his shirt — you were almost ashamed, almost.
after a few smooth movements of his fingers against the drawstrings of his sweats, the tip of his member was hanging mere centimeters from your face. you glanced up at him with giant eyes as he stared down at you with his clouded ones. between his raging hunger for your body and the high that was still clouding his mind, there wasn't a single coherent thought in eren’s head other than the way your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.
“open up, princess. if you wanna act like a slut, i’ll treat you like one,” he grabbed the back of your head and forced it forward.
your lips parted without even thinking, and he thrusted his full length down your throat without any warning. you were left coughing and sputtering, the walls of your throat constricting against his cock and sending a few curses from his lips.
he slowed down slightly after that, but kept a steady pace as he mouth-fucked you until tears were leaking down your cheeks. you were gagging and coughing and your face was stained with salty saline but you loved every second of it. his head rolled back as raspy grunts fell from between his teeth, his fist tightening at your scalp.
after he thought you’d finally had enough he pulled back and released your hair from his steel grip. his cock was aching now, coated in a thick layer of your sticky saliva and yearning for more.
“get on the counter,” he ordered, and you scrambled to your feet in a way that was embarrassingly desperate.
you boosted yourself up onto the cool countertop, positioned perfectly between two sinks and leaning back against the mirror. eren placed a firm grip on each of your legs, shoving them open and snickering at the slick patch of fabric between your thighs.
“you like being treated like a whore, don’t you?” he clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth and reached down at your panties before yanking them off in one fell swoop.
he squatted down so his face was level with your cunt, sticking out his tongue and dragging it up to your clit with antagonizing slowness. he moved the warm muscle up and down, sliding it between your folds and in circles around your clit — but his tongue was just barely making contact. and every time you bucked your hips towards him, begging and yearning for just a little more he’d pull his head back and click his tongue at you.
you were aching, leaking, and so incredibly needy for him and he knew it. he’d transformed you into the crumpled mess laying before him in a matter of minutes, and he was very proud of it.
“i’d start begging if i were you, or i’ll leave you here like this — a stupid broken slut with no one to fuck her,” he stood up and cocked his head to the side before beginning to tease your entrance with a single finger.
“ah- eren, please! i’ll do whatever you want,” you whimpered at him, a pitiful look on your face.
“eren? you know you’re not supposed to call customers by their name here,” he shook his head, “you’ll have to do better than that”.
“please- master, use me however you want. just please fuck me already”.
that seemed to suffice for eren, because after that it didn’t take long for him to shealth himself inside you and have your sweaty back slamming into the glass mirror behind you. strangled moans and pitiful whimpers slipped from between your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head in complete bliss. he’d teased and tormented you for so long that the sudden intense stimulation was almost too much.
he fucked himself into you so hard you thought you might break — your legs ached and your back hurt from awkwardly leaning into the mirror. but those feelings were quickly pushed to the back of your head because the overwhelming pleasure was so forceful that you could barely focus on anything else. eren’s length was grinding deep into your aching caverns so good that it was completely clouding your brain.
you let out a stifled gasp when he abruptly pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and aching for more.
“why-,” your voice was so destitute and so, so desperate.
“shut up and stand in front of me,” he commanded, pulling you off the counter and twisting you so you were facing the bathroom mirror.
“look at yourself in the mirror and watch me fuck you,” he practically snarled, placing a palm on your back and pushing your chest down against the counter, “look at how much of a slut you are for me”.
the only response that came out of your mouth was a tiny whine of acceptance — it was pathetic.
a breathy moan fell from your lips as he slid back in, and your cheeks blushed a dark shade of red as you watched yourself get fucked from behind. it was embarrassing, humiliating even, having to see yourself like this, but what made it even worse was that you fucking liked it.
“look at yourself,” he nodded towards the mirror, picking up his pace and tightening his grip on your hips, “just a dumb whore who’s good for nothing but taking orders from other people”.
“only- you!” you let out a strangled yelp.
“what was that? i don’t think i heard you,” he thrusted hard, reaching deeper than he had the entire time and then leaning over your back so his head was positioned right next to yours.
“say it again,” he murmured, burning holes through your eyes with how intensely he was staring at you in the mirror.
“i’m a dumb whore, but only for- you,” you repeated, squirming and whining at the painful pleasure he was forcing into you.
“that’s right,” he flashed you a satisfied grin, standing back up and resuming his original pace.
the sudden shift had you clawing at the smooth countertops — desperately wishing you had a pillow or sheet to grasp onto for some kind of support. you flinched when you felt a couple of his cool fingertips find your clit, immediately rubbing hasty circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“i want you to come for me,” he locked eyes with you in the mirror again, “and i want you to think about how i’m the only one who will ever make you feel this good the entire time”.
his words were harsh but they sounded like honey when they flowed through your pathetically devoted ears. between his consistent thrusts and the pads of his fingers working their magic, you were a pitiful mess of whimpers and moans in a matter of minutes. your body twitching and legs shaking as you mumbled his name over and over — it was the only word your brain could comprehend right now.
seeing you like that nearly pushed eren over the edge himself, but he forced himself to last a little longer, wanting to milk your orgasm for everything that it was. he was genuine when he said no one else would ever make you feel the way he could — your head was spinning and your body was on a high that felt like it would never end.
only once your body finally fell limp and tired, signifying that your climax had ended, did he pull out and spray his seed all over your exposed back. you were a sticky, sweaty mess and your legs didn’t have the strength to stand even after eren was done coming down from his own high.
your face was buried in your arms when you felt a wet paper towel cleaning up the mess of semen off your back. eren tossed the towel into the garbage and wrapped his arms under your torso so he could help your pitiful self stand up. you let out a few pained whimpers, stumbling into his arms and wrapping your hands around his neck.
“that bad, huh? how are you gonna go back out there and work for all your masters? i’m sure they’re waiting,” he smirked at you, and there was no sympathy in his voice.
“i- i don’t think i can,” you whined, clinging to him as your legs continued to shake underneath you.
eren shook his head and clicked his tongue, helping you over to your clothes and assisting you with getting back into your uniform. even after getting dressed your legs refused to work — you were a shaky, stumbling mess. you sat in a pitiful heap against the tiled wall while you watched eren get his own clothes back on.
“i think you might need a new job,” he snickered, squatting down and lifting you onto his back once he was dressed.
you graciously climbed onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck and burying your face into his neck, “yeah, yeah i’ll get a new job”.
“good idea, because everyone’s about to see how pathetic you are as we walk through the cafe,” he wrapped his arms back under your backside to support your weight.
“there’s a back exit right down the hall, please take that one,” you begged, “please”.
“well. since you asked so nicely and did so well i guess you deserve that,” he complied, exiting the bathroom and following your directions to the back door.
but because you have the worst luck in the world, one of the cafe managers came walking right around the corner just as the two of you were about to leave. you buried your head deeper into eren’s neck, unbearable amounts of embarrassment and shame flooding your veins.
“hey man, she quits, sorry!” eren yelled and handled it for you, dashing out the back door before the manager could even comprehend what he’d just seen.
“thank you,” you mumbled into his shirt, and you were truly thankful that you didn’t have to speak for yourself in there.
“no problem, princess,” he adjusted one of his hands so he could squeeze your ass, making you jump against his back, “let’s head back to my house for round two, yeah?”
“r-round two?” you stuttered.
you could barely handle round one, and he was ready to go again? how!?
“i’m joking, relax. let’s go watch a movie or something,” he chuckled, hoisting you higher on his back and beginning your long walk back to his apartment.
you sighed and sunk into his back, that sounded nice. there was a huge difference in how eren acted earlier and how he was acting now, but you were a sucker for both personalities. you expected college to consist of classes and work and maybe a few new friends but meeting eren yeager was sure to make it a lot more interesting.
#attack on titan smut#aot smut#shingeki no kyoujin x reader#shingeki no kyoujin smut#eren yeager#eren#eren yeager smut#eren smut#eren yeager x you#eren yeager x reader#eren x reader#eren x reader smut#smut#eren jeager smut#eren jeager x reader#eren jeager x you#attack on titan x reader
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ORIGINS SMP HEADCANONS (because i love them): SEASON TWO EDITION BAYBEEE
(this is really long ENJOY :gun:)
tommy
he is phil's son smile
phil's most recent son at least
he's got like one more somewhere
he picked this one up off the dangerous streets a few years ago and he's been sticking with phil ever since
his wings are small- not too small to fly, but they're untrained to the point where it would take a lot or work to get him off the ground
but at first, he didn't really seem to want to learn all that much?
(he has three scars on his face- all from trying to learn how to fly when he was younger)
(he gave up after the third one)
("if at first you don't succeed; try, try again" is his motto, and he tried all three times)
but!! phil and wilbur are very persuasive :) and now that he knows he can fly, he's not going to rest until he does
he's a little manipulative to get what he wants sometimes, but can you blame someone that lived on the street for so long?
he had to do that to survive! it's not his fault.
(it's a great excuse.)
he laughs like a kookaburra amen
he squawks when he gets scared
he chirps. he tries not to because it makes phil go absolutely bird-brained but he does sometimes and he hates it.
tubbo
NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A B[GUNSHOTS]
god he is. so fucking annoying (/rp)
he simply does not know when to stop
he ignores social cues to see when someone is annoyed
(see: he can read social cues. he does read social cues. when you get annoyed that's when he starts being more annoying, because you're more likely to give him what he wants to get him to shut the fuck up.)
he loves talking to (at) people, especially people he doesn't really know that well
so he's trying to be friends with ranboo, but the absolute prick keeps trying to avoid any actual conversations, so that's not working
he buzzes when he gets excited-happy
his fingertips are completely blackened and horrendously sharp, functioning as ten individual stingers
they don't do any actual damage but he's working on that
techno
wither hybrid (??)
how can you be a wither hybrid?? nobody got down and dirty with the wither
he's an experiment
the reason we haven't seen him yet? he's staying away from the main area of the smp
he doesn't want to ruin its natural beauty with his withering effect, so he keeps to himself on the outskirts of the smp
which sucks
withers get health from killing things
he's not fully a wither, so he gets energy from being around people and sort of draining their life force a little bit
he feels terrible when he's with just one person because they are Literally his life support and it makes the person feel like shit
when he's with a big group of people its great!! he only has to take a little bit from everyone and its barely noticable!!
but then there's the wither part. so he has to stay away.
he's always tired
always exhausted
he's a farmer, so taking it from animals works, but god does he miss people
but he can only visit a few times and for very short
(he's afraid that one of these days he'll get so bad that the next time he sees someone he'll accidentally kill them)
(it already happened once. he's blessed that he's been forgiven, even made friends with by the victims, but he doubts he'll be able to pull that off again with no consequences like last time)
wilbur
phantlings are dead elytrians, and given that wilbur was phil's son...he's a phantling
he died in the late 50s and was a librarian when he was alive, so he's very possessive (ha) over all of his things
you should never ask to "borrow" anything from him, he will hound you about it until you give it back
it's best to just say that you want something from him to keep
even if youre going to give it back
just for your own peace of mind
phantlings can feel fear and get a genuine feeling of elation from scaring people
of course, sometimes its unwelcome (feeling large amounts of fear from someone they care about in a bad way just makes them pissed)
but for the most part, wilbur loves appearing in the corner of people's visions just to jumpscare them a few minutes later
all in good fun, of course!! it's just hilarious :)
being the lighthearted, fun guy he is, he's not particularly secretive about his method of death
"how did i die? well, it all started -- ended -- on november 16th, 1958!"
"i walked out of the library late, since i took the shift for my wife since she was feeling sick and i worked there anyways,"
"the streets were dark and only lit up by gaslamps...and out of an alley...appeared..........."
techno.
he didn't mean it. wilbur isn't at all mad at him (anymore)
he was starving. he didn't know that one touch would be enough to fully revitalize him...
and murder wilbur where he stood.
sneeg
has details on everyone on the server
you Cannot Hide Shit From Sneeg
its impossible
if you find of his any shittly little mouse holes then you're doomed
you find one and there are twenty more
he's under your floorboards while you're having your important discussion about trapping the nether roof
sucks to suck ig??
he seems to be the favourite of many, which is weird since he rarely goes out of his way to actually talk to many people
he's the only person that tubbo doesn't actively try to annoy (or maybe he just doesn't find tubbo's antics all that annoying)
he's the only person that ranboo stays around (or maybe he stays around ranboo- he and Phil seem to be the only ones not off-put by his slightly sadistic and whiny demeanour (not counting tubbo, who annoys him anyways)
phil seems to be more protective of him than he thinks is normal (he lets sneeg ride on his shoulder while travelling, so he doesn't really complain)
niki is completely protective over him (again, not complaining)
contrary to popular believe, he does not get high from sugar
if anything he gets
high-per
(get it)
(high-per)
(hyper)
he's literally just a nine-year old getting a sugar rush leave him alone
phil
take the normal "bird-brain" headcanons and multiply it by like sixty-four
and you've got origins phil
he can't see glass- or, rather, he can, but it doesn't register that 'hey, this is a solid surface i am going to slam into'
its very funny for everyone else but he's pretty sure he has permanent brain damage from the blunt force trauma
if there is ANYONE on the server who dares to chirp, bird or no, they must understand that they are signing away their privacy and giving phil the right to go absolutely bonkers over them momma bird style
(shoutout to tommy, wilbur, ranboo, and fundy for having to suffer through this)
"oh??? you don't have wings?? you don't have feathers?? omg?? then what's this im preening?? what do you mean im just braiding your hair?? nono this is preening smile"
god help you if you dare to have wings
poor tommy, wilbur, sneeg, and tubbo
phil can't help himself alright
do you think he wants to be any sort of protective over sneegsnag?
no!! but he cant stop himself!! sneeg might damage his wings if he keeps flying those super long distances!!! nnnno! carry the bug man!!!
it's weird, he's always had that protective sense over ranboo, too
but ranboo very obviously doesn't have wings, so he doesn't get it...
ranboo
yes ur a peasant
yes ur poor
yes im cooler than u
what r u gonna do about it
the enderdragon's son! partially a dragon, partially enderman, partially human (don't ask, his other mom is a hybrid), all spoiled brat!
given that he has a ton of dragon genes, he's extremely possessive over his stuff and Yes He Does Do The Hoarding Thing
he has a pile of rings and gold chains and necklaces and most of his jewellery hidden underneath his bed
(if you ask him, no, he doesn't)
not to wear
just to Have
one time, fundy stole one (1) bracelet from the hoard and ranboo was sent into a panic for a good 24 hours
he wouldn't leave his cave and kept counting and recounting as if that'd make the missing piece reappear
(when fundy had to give it back because of the guilt, he expected to get his face bitten off)
(instead, he just watched as the prince was flooded with relief, telling him to get the hell out and nothing more)
it's weird, he has so much gold and even a crown, and yet here he is
living with all those people ^^^
truth be told, the enderdragon isn't a very nice dragon
nor is she a very kind queen
nor was the other queen
nor was her son
there was a mutiny in the end, leading to the dragon queen and her wife being killed brutally by the crowd of angered people
they went after their son next, who had ordered executions and worked servants to the bone just as much as they had
they cut off his wings in the middle of the square
he was sure he was going to die until a random person (a peasant) jumped up and yelled at them for publicly torturing a child
but ranboo didn't really catch all of it, given he was delirious from pain
he got to get some stuff quickly and escape with his life
this wasn't too long ago, either, so he's still trying to...adjust...to people talking rudely to him
(he's also trying to adjust to not having wings)
(hence why he hurls himself off the edges of cliffs and then has to teleport to the bottom instead of glide. he keeps forgetting.)
#this is so long#origins smp#originssmp#ranboo#tubbo#philza#philza minecrft#sneegsnag#wilbur soot#technoblade#tommyinnit#help this is so long
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LOVE AGAIN ─✎ 송.민기
❖❳；Pairing; Song Mingi x Fem!Reader (ft. P1h's keeho, itzy's ryujin, and wooyoung)
❖❳；Genre; Greek mythology au, angst, reincarnation au.
❖❳；Words ; 6.2k
❖❳；Warnings; Mentions of death.
❖❳；Synopsis; A mission to find your lover who was reborn in the mortal world became a mission for heartbreak as you watched him fall in love with someone else.
❖❳；A/n; I honestly don't know what happened near the end, very disappointing but oh well. Not very proud of this so im sorry and don't get your hopes up.
❖❳； Note; My entry for @/sleepylixie and @/delicatewerewolfsoul 's hamartia collab. This might contain inaccurate representations of greek gods but for the sake of the story, just go with it. Slightly modernized as well.
The sun rises on the horizon, casting light all over Olympus, waking the gods in slumber, reminding them of the work they need to do. However, you wanted to fight the sun for rising so early. The rays piercing through the depths of the ocean, just enough to peek through the windows of your room.
You stir under the covers, not wanting to get up. The light blinding your closed eyes, preventing you from going back to sleep. You were honestly hoping you won't wake up the next day. You didn't want to wake up in agony knowing there's nothing to wake up to. You still picture his crescent eyes when he smiles, his laugh that echoes in your ears as if he is there with you. His hands that felt soft and warm left a mark on your skin, reminding you of how he held you in his arms.
Every night you see him in your dreams— for a while at least. Your heart was hurt, it wanted to remind you of all the things you could've done, but it knew that if you kept dreaming about him, you would have died grieving years ago.
A loud knock on your door suddenly erupted, a groan escaped your lips. You rolled to the other side trying to bury your head under the covers to drown out the sound. Then, your door busted open, making you sit up in surprise.
"What the fuck," you furrowed your brows, watching your father fix the dislocated door hinge.
"Don't use such language on me, young lady," he leans his trident beside the door. "You have a very important schedule to meet your suitors today."
Your eyes widen, "Suitors?!" You shrieked, your father's face contorts.
“Father, I think this has gone long enough for you to know that I am not interested.” he let out a sigh. He’s well aware of that.
"Look, I understand, but I will not have you sulk for the rest of your life just because that good-for-nothing son of Athena died," your blood boiled at his words.
"No father, I don’t think you do understand," You said with resentment.
You tried to bury the tears back down, not wanting to cry in front of your father. The pent up anger made you want to lash out like what he said was the last straw but your pride was much stronger.
"It's rude to keep them in line, they've travelled far just to get here, so I suggest you make yourself presentable and be there as soon as possible," his last words before shutting your door closed behind him.
The knick-knacks on your shelf shook as your father slammed the door shut. He wasn't mad, he was just….strict, as your father and god of the sea, you are under his territory thus, giving you no choice but to follow him.
You laid back on your bed, pulling the covers, letting out a muffled scream into the blanket. Only kids get treated like this, he acts like you aren't already a hundred years old.
You didn't want to meet another batch of mermen with plastic smiles and fake personalities. They were only after you because of your title, daughter of Poseidon, god of the sea, with a legacy that soon passes unto you. You had sisters and brothers, you didn't understand why it had to be you, but Poseidon himself already had it all planned.
You swam near the big stadium-like structure, with large pillars that were carved so intricately in quartz. The end of the stadium planted Poseidon's throne where he sat so elegantly. You hid behind the pillars, spotting the men that were seated to the side, waiting for your arrival, but you already decided you weren't going to attend. Not this time.
You took the longest route to Olympus, making sure no one spots you, escaping the suffocating vast seas that used to be called home.
=
"You know one day I could get killed by your dad," Wooyoung set the teacups filled with hot liquid on the dining table where you sat.
It's been a while since you set foot on land, you didn't miss it, the painful after-effects of walking for too long did make you wonder how land dwellers live.
"He won't since I made him promise it," your cheeky smile made him roll his eyes.
"But won't he easily find you here?"
"He will but he couldn't be bothered to travel all the way here," you took a sip from the cup, hot liquid running down your throat.
"I'll be home by sundown, can't have him wash Olympus just to find me," you force out a laugh, wooyoung giving you a sympathetic look.
He knows you are still mourning. Deep inside you are still in pain, but you try to keep it hidden.
"You know, it's been years and he is still bringing me these men I barely even know and he wants me to pick one to marry?" You planted your forehead on the table, hiding your face in frustration. "It's getting annoying." After those annoying years of having to pretend you are ok and just sitting pretty in front of dozens of merpeople, making yourself look like a prize in a glass box waiting for a winner to take you home.
But of course, it's still your choice and you chose to be with none of them.
"Were any of them attractive at least?" You hear the familiar charming voice. You look up to see Wooyoung's mother— aphrodite— adorned in her usual attire, laced with gold sequences, a headpiece in gold, and jewellery that complimented her skin.
You shook your head as you gave her a soft smile, "They always have this forced appearance to look strong and the wide creepy smiles that they think will help attract me to them," she listens to your rant, pouting slightly, "What a shame, you know your father's taste was never that good," she winked. You knew she was talking about your mother, whom you didn't know that well since she is always focusing on your brothers.
"I thought you went out early," Wooyoung questioned. Aphrodite cupped her son's cheeks, kissing the top of his nose.
"I just forgot something dear," you giggled at her ways of babying her son. Fixing his hair and touching up the light makeup he puts on every day. You can't deny how attractive Wooyoung is, you could see the features that he inherited from his mother.
"Poseidon won't stop what he is doing though, I suggest you do as his wishes y/n, or you'll face his consequences," strips of memory to that day cross your mind again. It was truly painful to recall, it made your heart clenched and you wanted to scream your head off.
"Look, whatever it is you want to do, just make sure it isn't something stupid," Wooyoung held your hand in his, rubbing your skin with his thumb. You remembered the last stupid thing you did.
You were grateful to have met someone like Wooyoung, he has always been there for you. Even though your father had been skeptical of him for so long, he still let you be around him.
But you can't promise him this time because another stupid idea just popped up in your head.
=
"Are you kidding y/n? Didn't we just talk about this?" Wooyoung follows you from behind as you walk through the forest. The last time you were here was the day your world fell apart.
You swore to not cross paths where it reminded you of him but right now, it is important.
"Look, demigods are bound to be reincarnated, there's a chance I could see him again," you explained, stepping on sticks and pebbles, slashing through vines and large leaves with your bronze dagger. Mingi wasn't like you or wooyoung who had both parents that are gods. Like Athena, he was created by her from her mind. He wasn't born….normal.
"And then what? What will you do if you see him?"
In all honesty, you didn't plan that far, all you thought of was to meet mingi in the mortal world. Wooyoung's concern for you just became worse when the silence answers his question. You have no plan, you just wanted to see mingi again.
You ignored Wooyoung's continuous nagging until you reached your destination. The tree that grew sweet magical berries that can only be found deep in the forests of Olympus. The berry that could help the gods enter the mortal realm.
"Y/n…." Worry settles in, Wooyoung knows the side effects of these berries. You weren't as powerful as your parents who were able to visit the mortal realm on your own, you needed help and you were certainly not gonna ask your father.
"I'll be fine," you picked a few handfuls of berries and stuffed them in your bag, "Atlantis won't be that far, If I need to, I’ll just come back." You smiled at Wooyoung.
"I leave tomorrow."
"What about your dad? Won't he get mad?" You two made your way back out of the forest, taking the path of where you came from.
"I just told him I'm sleeping at your place for a while," Wooyoung freezes in place. As expected of his role as your best friend, he's responsible for covering you up.
"You owe me big time."
=
Arriving at the mortal realm, alone and slightly scared. But the sight of what seemed to be the city made you giddy all of the sudden.
You walked around exploring the beautiful structures of the city. Tall buildings surrounding the area, billboards, and giant screens with lights and flashing colours. You were overwhelmed at first but it was quite interesting. It was nothing like you have seen before.
There were tons of people who wore casual attire, some wore suits as they travelled to work. Big buses and cars drove by in the streets— you almost got run over by one, not knowing the purpose of the blinking traffic light; the horrendous sound of the car horn almost did make your ears bleed.
Settling down on one of the park benches, you took a break from walking. The sandals you brought weren't doing any justice for your feet.
Your surroundings were peaceful, pink flowers scattered across the concrete, different coloured leaves decorating the trees, getting ready for the fall season. Suddenly, you felt a gust of wind. The eerie grey smoke rising in front of you. Chills running up your spine, your mind having a clear idea of where it's coming from.
A cold mischievous laugh emitted from within, your initial reaction was to pull out the dagger from your side, clutching the handle tight until your knuckles turned white.
"Relax, it's me," the same annoying voice you dreaded hearing.
"Ryujin, what are you doing here?" You scowled. She was bad news— the spirit of mischief lives within her, wherever she goes, chaos follows.
"Hmm, are you not happy to see me?" Her Cheshire cat-like smile plastered onto her face as she took a seat beside you, crossing her leg on top of the other. Her hair was shorter than the last time you saw her, eyes still full of mischief.
"I was hoping to not see you again after the incident 20 years ago," you spat, hatred lacing your words.
"Right, the poor boy, died so soon," her face turned into a sad look before smiling once again.
Ryujin was the main cause of his death. Your father just made it happen. Leading Mingi to that place in the forest where she knew your father was there, he hated Athena's children, he wouldn't hesitate to kill one in sight.
You wished there was a way to go back in time to stop Ryujin from leading Mingi to his inevitable death. But as expected, she felt no shame or guilt whatsoever.
"What is it that you plan anyway, there is a reason for you to come here, right?"
You kept your mouth closed, not wanting to possibly give your plan away for the spirit of mischief to take its course. And so, you kept quiet. Ryujin clicked her tongue in annoyance. She wished she could read minds, but that's her brother's power.
"Fine, keep it to yourself," she stood up, grumbling something under her breath, "Just so you know, I am not leaving without having a bit of fun," another gust of wind blowing in your direction leaves swirling in a circle on the concrete just below her feet, the puff of smoke covering her figure as she disappeared.
Your mind was in shambles. Usually, she would try and pressure you into answering but she brushed it off so soon.
You let out the breath you didn't know you were holding, the weight suddenly leaving your chest. Sometimes the presence of Ryujin gives you this uneasy feeling, but it was better than getting a visit from her brother. He is ten times worse.
=
You finally adapted to the mortal world, got a place to stay all by yourself. There were obstacles on the way but you got over them easily.
You lay quietly on the bed, and to be honest, it was a bit uncomfortable. The covers are placed over you up to your neck. You stared at the ceiling, counting rams in hopes of helping you fall asleep. And on your 1117th ram, your eyes finally grew heavy.
But to your dismay, your throat decides that it was parched. You sat up from your bed, wearing your slippers, and made your way to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass and filling it up with water, but before you could take a sip, you saw a figure on your couch.
You dropped the glass, shattering across the floor. The figure whipped his head around and you couldn't believe your eyes. Is this a dream? You must be dreaming… You might have even gone mad.
"Mingi?" You stuttered. You haven't called out that name in so long.
"Y/n, be careful you'll hurt yourself," he stood from the couch, making his way to you. You took a few steps back. Mingi's face shows a look of confusion.
He stepped on the glass unfazed by it. Did he not feel that? Of course, this is a dream, he's not real.
"What's wrong?" His arms out to reach for you.
"N-no, I'm dreaming, this can't be—" you shook your head, tears pricking your eyes. You felt warm hands cup your face, it was so real, your knees so close to giving out.
"What do you mean?" His eyes were the same shade of brown. His hair is styled the same way he always has it in.
"You're real?" Your voice croaked, mingi chuckled. The same smile you saw years ago, but as expected, his face started to fade. This is definitely a dream. It was impossible to have mingi physically there, you saw him….die, right in front of your eyes.
"Of course I'm real," his voice was soft, comforting even. You were really hearing his voice, this is his voice. He pressed his forehead against you, kissing the top of your nose promptly.
At this point, you couldn't stop the tears from falling. You sobbed making mingi pull away and look at you with worry in his eyes.
"Please don't leave me again," you pleaded. You wished it was real, your chest grew even tighter. What kind of cruel punishment is this?
"Why would I leave?" He wiped the tear on your cheek. "I'll always be here," he said in reassurance as he pulled you in his embrace. You missed it so much—you missed him so much. The same warmth was still there, but it eventually started to feel cold. Like Hades was paying a visit to take him back to the underworld.
You finally got to see him again, even if it was only a dream, it really felt like he was there, body and soul present. You didn't want to let him go, there's no way you are losing him again.
His image starts to fade, you start to feel the emptiness again. His hold on your body began to feel like nothing, it was cold like ice. You tried to grip his shirt, keeping him from disappearing. You spewed out pleas, begging him to stay. At Least for a little longer.
But then you woke up, hot liquid running down your face.
You were crying, something you haven't done in a long while. Slapping your cheeks, making sure you were really awake.
"Come one y/n, it was just a dream," you said to yourself out loud.
20 years and you thought you were over him. But those agonizing years were torturous. Everything seemed to remind you of him. Wooyoung almost didn't see you for 18 years until you finally decided to visit him. You wouldn't know what to do if wooyoung was never in your life, you might as well have been asleep for the rest of your life.
=
The clamshell that sat on your bedside table glowed. It was a magic shell that sends messages back and forth in writing. You gave one to Wooyoung so you could communicate from a distance.
"Did you find him?" The letters glowed as they appeared.
"Not yet." you wrote back, watching the writings disappear indicating that he is reading it.
"Time is ticking y/n." Anxiety washes over you again. Soon the berries won't be enough to hold you there and you'll be needing to come back home.
"Y/n, you there?" A voice startled you, making you almost drop the shell. It would be bad if you did, it was a fragile thing, you could risk shattering it and won't have anything else to communicate with.
"In here!" You called out, quickly hiding the shell in the dresser.
"I brought lunch," mina smiled, holding up a paper bag filled with takeout.
The day you moved in, still exploring the apartment that you rented, you heard a knock on your door.
You peeked through the peephole. A woman stood in front of the door patiently, short brown hair— half of it tied into a ponytail— dressed in a leather jacket and denim pants. She looked about 20, maybe 21 but she doesn't look older than 25.
You almost pulled out your dagger but resisted, remembering that they are mortals and you could get in trouble. You slowly twisted the doorknob open, opening it slightly so your body is visible but not the room.
"Hi, I'm mina!" She said in a bubbly tone. Her energy made you slightly overwhelmed. "I'm your neighbour, just next door." She pointed to the apartment beside yours.
You nodded, not knowing what to reply. "Have you finished unpacking?" You tilted your head in confusion. "Do you need help with boxes or anything?"
You looked back in your apartment, body moving aside just enough for Mina to have a clear view.
"Did you not bring any stuff?" You shook your head.
"I only brought a satchel," you gripped the strap that hung across your body. She gazes at the small bag attached to your body.
"Well, it looks like you need help settling in, why don't I cook dinner for you? You don't seem to have any pots or pans or food either." Your stomach grumbled at the mere mention of food.
Mina giggled, making you heat up in embarrassment. "I'll take that as a yes."
Since then Mina has been your source of food and company. She's been a great companion for the past few days. You told Wooyoung all about her and he just replied coldly. The thought of your best friend getting jealous of your new mortal friend made you laugh.
"So, I just started my 3rd year of college, and honestly, I am tired of it— I've been thinking of dropping out but then my mom might whoop my ass…" Mina rants while you sit there, zoned out watching the floor like it's the most interesting thing in the world.
"Earth to y/n," mina waves her hand in front of you, snapping you out of your daze.
"Oh sorry, What were you saying?" The girl pouts, eventually brushing it off to discuss other things.
"Oh right, so I met this guy on campus and he is like, really cute. He is super tall and like, maybe a bit built..." You listened to her attentively but still in the back of your mind you couldn't help but discuss your plans on how to find mingi to yourself.
"Should I ask him out?" You blinked— you weren't paying attention again.
"I'm sorry?"
"The guy I met on campus on my first day, should I ask for his number?"
"Oh totally, you should," you said plainly, you feel really bad for not paying attention but you couldn’t help it when your mind is being occupied with something else. Mina just brushed it off, not noticing your spaced-out expression. She continued rambling while your mind wandered.
Time was running out, you needed a plan.
=
"Remind me why I am on your college campus again?" You said, mina dragging you by the arm. She woke you up at an ungodly hour just to travel early to her college campus. Few students were walking around campus, on their way to their scheduled class.
"Look, I barely have friends, also do you go to college? You look to be around my age," your eyes widen. Atlantis doesn't have schools, you had to travel to Olympus just to make it to class, but you only had to go until you turned 18. And you are immortal, you haven't been to school for a hundred years.
"I graduated," you just said. Hoping she won't ask further questions.
"Oh so you're older than me then," you nodded. She stopped to sit by a tree in the campus garden, patting the grass beside you. You sat beside her, leaning on the tree.
"I don't have class 'till after lunch, we can grab something to eat before you can go back to your apartment," she took out her textbook and paper to finish what she didn't the day before.
"Sorry for dragging you, You are always locked up in your apartment so I thought why not take you here with me," you were planning on exploring more of the city, just to take note of the possible routes to get around.
"Won't I get in trouble? I don't go here."
"You are fine, besides, it's an open college, anyone can visit here," she explains as she gets back to her work.
Your eyes wandered off somewhere else, spotting the students who were early, sitting on the grass as they got some sleep under the trees. Some were reading books and some were having their breakfast.
It makes you sleepy after a while, deciding to lean your head against the tree, closing your eyes for a brief moment.
A pair of shoes tapping against the grass, crunching the leaves on the way. You didn't bother to open your eyes so you just stayed and listened. Must be one of mina's friends as you hear her voice ushering for them to sit.
They sat on the other side of the tree beside mina, talking about classes and homework but something about that voice tingles your brain. The familiar deep husky voice made your heart ache. You were confused as to why you were reacting that way.
Soon the person left and you were forced to open your eyes when mina shook your shoulder abruptly.
"Guess who just gave me their number," she said, grinning from ear to ear.
"Who?"
"The hot campus boy," she squealed, waving the paper in her hand. "His name is mingi and it's kinda cute and his voice was deep, not that deep, but like...deep."
Your eyes widen, "mingi?" She nodded. You felt like your world stopped spinning. Your mind is in shambles, processing the information. Your ears deafened the sounds around you, muffling mina's continuous babblings.
You thanked the gods that he's here, but then reality hit. He doesn't know you for he is only a reincarnation of the mingi you knew. He is no longer the son of Athena, he is just human.
=
"Are you sure it's the mingi?" Wooyoung's message appears from the clamshell. You lay on your bed, a book on your lap as you were reading just a while ago.
"Yes, Mina's description fits so perfectly," you bit your lip, anxiously fidgeting with your necklace. What if it wasn't him? You can't confirm that it really is him, he has no memory of his past life.
"Ok, so what are you gonna do now? You found him, what's the next step?" You mentally slapped yourself for being unprepared. You wanted to see him again, that was your main goal, and now that you know he's here, you have no reason to stay.
You want to be with him but it's impossible, you are immortal, he'll age while you stay young. Well, nothing much was changed when he was a demigod, but he had the opportunity to become immortal. It's not like there is some way a mortal can become immortal.
…..or is there.
"I'm coming back," the writing disappeared letter by letter as wooyoung's message appeared right after.
"Really? So that's it?"
You shook your head as if he could see you. "I have a plan"
"Oh no," wooyoung thought. Letting out a deep sigh. "She's gonna get into more trouble isn't she?" Wooyoung wished that somehow something would knock some sense into you.
=
"Y/n!"
"Mina, hey," she threw herself at you, engulfing you in a tight hug.
"I'm gonna miss you," she squeezed around your neck, restricting your airflow.
"Mina," you patted her back, making her apologize with a sheepish grin, "I'll be back soon though, you don't have to miss me too much."
"I know— wait, are you free right now? I was wondering if you wanna go eat before you leave," you thought for a second. Though it isn't difficult to travel back to Olympus, you're unfortunately on your last berry.
"Sure," you hoped it'll last you for another few hours.
Arriving at a restaurant with mina, ordering food as soon as you sat down. Your eyes wandered around. The restaurant was busy, waiters quickly passing around, trying to get to the customer's table as soon as possible.
"Finally," Mina says, standing up on her seat. You turned your head to the person she was referring to.
"Sorry I'm late, I got stuck in traffic."
"I invited mingi, I hope you don't mind y/n," Mina says with a sorry smile.
"I don't mind at all." That unsettling feeling soon washes over you, seeing mingi stand in front of you, face to face. You find it weird to see him like this like he didn't die. He looks like the same mingi years ago, it just felt….different.
You took your seats again, Mina helping mingi order his food. The three of you waited for your orders, chatting about anything that comes to mind. Mina talking about classes and homework that is due and mingi asking if any of you were free to a party this weekend.
Of course, you can't go.
"So, Where are you from y/n?" He asks you. His voice sounded so natural to you but at the same time, it felt foreign, like you just heard of it now. Technically you did but, the way demigod reincarnations work is they get reborn the same. Meaning they'll look the same, speak the same, and their personalities are most likely the same. Nothing will change once they get reborn— except, they won't remember anything from their past life.
"Atlantis," you blurted out, panic rushing through you. You can see the confusion in their faces.
"Like, the lost city of Atlantis?" Mortals, what are they teaching them?
"I mean Atlanta," you corrected yourself, body stiff as stone.
"America? That's far, do you have a flight?" Mina intervened. You didn't even know where that was, you just so happened to remember that book you read before coming here and the main character lived in a place called Atlanta.
"Uh yeah, sure," you felt cold sweat trickling down the back of your neck. You just hope they won't ask any more questions.
You let out a sigh of relief as the two of them get back to chatting with each other.
Finally, the food arrived and the sooner you finished the sooner you got to go home. And with your last berry, you popped it in your mouth after the meal.
Leaving the restaurant with mina and mingi you were finally able to go back to Olympus.
As you are ready to part ways, Mina engulfs you in a tight hug, cutting off your airflow. "Mina, you're squishing me," you said in a choked out voice. "Be quick ok," she gives you a final hug before walking in the other direction.
You waited until the coast was clear and hid somewhere secluded.
=
You arrived safely and with just a minute to spare. You were gonna go to wooyoung's place first before going back to Atlantis when you saw a lightning strike. A gust of moist air blows your way, a growling thunder piercing through your ears. Your mind immediately assumed that it was Zeus but when the clouds cleared you saw your father, sitting on a cloud with his trident on his lap.
"Father," you said, greeting him with a bow. Though he didn't look pleased with seeing you at the gates of Olympus, he still gave your hair a ruffle.
"You have me worried sick y/n, where were you?"
You expected yelling, hearing these words and this kind of tone shocked you. Especially even after telling him that you were staying at wooyoung's but still found you at the gates
"Look, I know I may have gone too far— with...you know, the marriage," he admits. Avoiding eye contact with you as much as possible. Not that it wasn't sincere, he just wasn't used to admitting he was wrong. But he loves you dearly and he'd do anything for you.
"It's ok, I actually forgot those happened." there was an awkward silence. Then, Poseidon left, after informing you of what time dinner was gonna be.
You finally arrived at your best friend's house and instead of a worried wooyoung, you were met with a furious wooyoung.
"I knew this was a bad idea, your father almost killed me!" He said. You rolled your eyes at the exaggeration.
"Relax wooyoung, nothing happened," you placed your bag onto his bed, taking out the souvenirs you got.
"Did he say anything to you? You are still alive so I'm guessing you haven't met yet?"
"I met him at the gates and he said he was worried." Thinking back to that moment made you shiver, it's like someone replaced your dad with someone completely different.
"Huh, well ok then— Ooh what are these," he was quick to change the topic as his curiosity fills in. Wooyoung takes the bag of candies you brought, ripping it open to take one of the wrappers with the sugary treats inside. You chuckled, watching wooyoung chew on the candy.
He notices your gaze stuck on the floor while you get lost in your own thoughts.
"Hey, did something else happen there?"
You snap back into reality, taking a while to process what wooyoung just said. You shook your head in response.
"Actually, is there a way to stay there without the berries?"
He stares at you for a moment, he honestly thought you were done and you weren't going back there. It's dangerous for you since you are not as strong as your father. Even with something more efficient than a magical fruit, you are bound to get in trouble.
"My mom has a necklace," wooyoung says, he didn't want to say it but he knew how important this is to you. Eventually you'll stop, knowing mortals and gods cannot stay together forever.
"She used to make me wear it when she let me go to the mortal world with her."
"Can I borrow it?"
=
"Y/n!" Mina ran to you with open arms, "I missed you so much," you giggled at your friend.
"I've only been gone for a week."
"A week too long," she pouted.
She takes your hand in hers, pulling you to whatever direction. You arrived at the airport, making it look like you got here by plane. Passing security check out and exiting the building.
"You still remember mingi right?" She asks.
"Of course, I left for a week, it doesn't mean I forgot anything that's here," she grinned.
"Why, what happened?" You asked, hiding the hint of fear in your voice.
"Oh nothing," she sing-song, trying to stop her lips from smiling too much.
You both stopped at the front of the main entrance, waiting for you-don't-know-who. Until a car stops in front of you. Mingi came to pick you two up, giving you a ride to your apartment.
"So, what's it like in your hometown," she asks, taking a bite of her food.
"Uh, It's….you know —uh…. there's trees and buildings."
Mina nodded slowly as she continued eating her food.
After you two finished eating, Mina left to finish her college work— probably with mingi.
You didn't want to think the worst but considering mina's behavior around mingi, you couldn't stop the thoughts running around your mind.
You gripped the pendant that was tied around your neck. It's pearly white color glowing due to the light reflecting on it. Its sharp edges indicate that it was shattered into parts.
The other half is with mingi.
Atleast, when he was still with you. It symbolizes your promise to always be together and be there for each other.
But fate just wasn't on your side. And it still isn't.
As you walked out of your apartment to get some fresh air, you spotted the two by the parking lot. Their faces are inches away from each other.
You didn't know why but you felt your heart sink. Tears welling in your eyes. You reminded yourself that this mingi isn't the same mingi that promised to be with you. He wasn't the same mingi that helped you run away from home whenever your parents were arguing again.
That gave you a reality check, you can't be with him anymore. You have to let him go.
Your gaze still stuck on the two, not noticing the sudden appearance of another spirit.
This time, it made you feel chills.
"Keeho," you said in a whisper. You didn't bother to look in his direction.
"Oh, I'm glad you recognize me," he said, a mischievous smile growing on his lips.
"Ryujin would have loved to see this, after all, this was her plan." You curled your fist into a ball, tight enough until your nails dug into your skin.
"Why?" You managed to let out. You didn't want this to affect you but it does. After everything you did, it all didn't matter in the end.
"I don't know, ask ryujin. I'm just here to relay a message."
Keeho pushed himself off the wall that he was leaning on and came over to you.
"Don't try to bring back something that was meant to be taken away, it'll come back to bite you in the ass," he whispered against your ear, sending chills down your spine.
Then he left, disappearing into the mist again.
Even though you just came back, you were already itching to leave. Packing your bag and locking the apartment. Giving the keys to the landlord.
Mina notices you in a hurry to leave, running after you to catch you.
"Y/n! Where are you going?" She grabs your wrist making you stop. You didn't turn around, you stayed rooted to the ground. Swallowing the thick lump in your throat before speaking.
"I'm sorry Mina," you pulled your wrist away from her and left. You felt guilty, she was your only friend and she felt betrayed. You left without an explanation.
=
"Y/n? You're here, did something happen?" Wooyoung read your expression.
You shook your head, clearing your thoughts as you replaced the sad look with a small smile.
"I'm great, I just didn't like the whole vibe there," you lied.
You removed the ruby crystal around your neck giving it to wooyoung, muttering a thanks. Alongside you removed the pendant that was tucked under your shirt. Wooyoung was shocked as you never took it off and you swore you never would.
You tucked the necklace into your pocket, taking a mental note to put it away when you get home.
Although you didn't accomplish your original mission, you did realize that it's always good to let go of something. Never let anything or anyone tie you down. You are still heartbroken, but you are sure you could get over it soon.
Of course, the siblings that stared at you through the window, mischievous smiles on their faces, will not let you live just yet.
#8makes1teamnet#ficscafe#destinyversenet#fkp-net#knet-bakery#: ̗̀🌺; collab fic entry#❪ 🐿️ ❫ ─ oneshots#ateez#ateez mingi#song mingi#ateez angst#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#mingi scenarios#mingi imagines
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Enemies to Lovers (trump x biden)
18+
this is a joke dont take it /srs
The sequel is a female trump with male biden and the first one is normal
don't be surprised i’m freaky like that.
The congress had been in a tight spot with the upcoming election. Both parties were also having problems. Whoever won this election, would change history. Who were the two most popular candidates? Joe Biden and Donald trump.
“This is stupid! Just give up.” Donald says as he puts down his cup harshly. This plan was supposed to be a calm dinner with both the Biden and Trump family.
That was no longer the plan. Both the rest of the family had left. Though both the electionists were still there deciding to talk. “Donald, we both know I'll win. Go cry” Although biden had said this calmly, it ticked donald off to the point his face was red. “You shut up you founding father ass!” yelled Donald as he jumped on biden.[2:17 PM]Biden had no expected donalds reaction. He quickly put his knee near donalds crotch gaining a moan from donald. They both knew what they heard.
Donald was embarrassed, but he was not gonna stop. “What? Can't do anything” donald said with a shaky breath. There was no response.
They both looked at eachother. Staring into eachothers eyes. Was someone gonna make a move or were they going to keep arguin. What was this feeling? Why is this happening. Biden's thoughts were interrupted as he felt wrinkly dry lips on his own lips.[2:17 PM]Their lips both moved simultaneously both wanting to get their tongues in each other. In an instant their clothes were on the floor. Donald was riding Biden's thigh as Biden jerked Donald's 2 inch . Both moving at the same time brought Trump to heaven. Reaching his climax, Donald bit down on shoulder , making Biden wince and groan of pleasure. “I-am going to-” Donald was cut off by Biden who was slowly sucking on donalds neck. “Cum for me” and just like that, trump came. Both candidates' chest rose as they tried to catch their breath. Donald being the first one to change had left just as quickly as he came, leaving biden in his thoughts.[2:18 PM]“What did i just do?” biden mumbles under his breath. He picked up his stuff and left. “What was that..” the customers said. They had witnessed something horrendous. “I do not get paid enough!” yelled one of the workers. The end then everyone dies because angelica came from a different planet and didn't like earth so she made it explode and so everyone died. The End for now
Sequel
Joe then started to burn in hell wondering, what's happening? Suddenly he saw Trump and yelled, "BABE, I'M RIGHT HERE". But Donald was too busy burning in hell too. They then started crying, together, in a rhythm. God felt bad and let them go free. "DONALD!", Joe, yelled. "BIDEN!", Trump said back. Let's do it again. It was fun and felt good, they both thought freely. Then he ran up and started riding Biden, as he got wet faster and faster. The devil was just there watching them lock lips as Biden thrusted in and out. It started getting weird when Trump screamed,"IM CUMMING!", but then again, they realized, Trump is a girl now, not a boy Biden replied saying, "Keep in you little sl*t." He did so, and waited till the permission to cum again. He was so pleased by the feeling that he started crying in tears of joy. Things were great as God started to burn the author of this fanfic, me. I didn't care because I knew i'd be in hell anyway. Trump finally released as it moved swiftly through the fire. "Ahhh, that was fun, round 3?"
"Nah, I need a break for now." Then they just cuddled for then, and suddenly, Biden slid 2 fingers inside Trump's private part. "Ahhh", Trump moaned. He went faster and Trump released. "It's time" God said. "I gave you guys time to have about 3 rounds of sex, it's time to burn now. You had a break for too long." "Stop acting like you didn't have seggs with the devil." Trump said.
"Yeah, we'll tell the other gods, if you don't give us freedom!" Says, Biden.
"You saw?!" God said.
"Fine then i'll let you guys be free and live your lives as you have seggs over and over again.Then they all had a foursome and they went too hard so Trump and God got put in a coma for the rest of their lives as Biden and the devil cheat and have seggs without them but then the died and Biden was alone and masturbated for the rest of the time earth existed, even if they were in hell.
#enemies#lover#enemies to lovers#biden#trump#joe biden#donald trump#donald#joe#kamala harris#love#joke#hey#fanfic#donald x biden#trump x biden#joe x donald
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| caffeine | [chapter 2]
pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x female!reader
this chapter’s notes; oral(male receiving), dirty talk, wonwoo having a size kink 😩🥴 💕 y’all!! thank you so much for all the love on my fratboy!wonwoo au im literally------- so !!!! I love yall so much you don't even know 😩😩😩
chapters; 1 - 2 - x - x - x
When Minghao asks you to accompany him to the library on a Wednesday morning, you contemplate pretending you slept through that message if it meant not having to see Wonwoo again. You hadn’t been back since then, scrambling to collect all your things from your study table as you promptly left and didn’t look back.
There was a part of you that still couldn’t believe everything that had happened and even questioned if it really happened. But there was also a part of you that craved more and wanted to see him again despite being unsure.
Minghao texts you a few more times, knowing that you’re free on Wednesdays and almost never sleep in.
You finally give in after the 7th attempt, muttering under your breath as you toss on some clothes, texting Minghao you’ll meet him at the campus coffee shop in 20 minutes.
“I thought you’d never show up, slowpoke.”
You give Minghao a side hug, adjusting the big shirt and shorts you decided to throw on. “Yeah, well I made it, didn’t I? It’s not like I don’t love seeing your face, but why exactly did you ask me to come anyway?” The male shrugs, already walking towards the direction of the library. “Mingyu managed to snag a retake on that exam he failed last time so he couldn’t make it and I just like company and a second opinion when I work sometimes.” The two of you fall into idle chatter; laughing about Mingyu’s horrendous luck when it came to being on time for his classes.
“I mean, I told him beer pong on a school night wasn’t the brightest idea, but you know him, hates to lose against Jihoon.”
“How do you do it? Like, how do you exist around these dudes and not lose your shit?”
“Dunno, maybe it’s the free booze when I do want it. And let’s be real, the notoriety ain’t so bad either.”
You scoff, jokingly rolling your eyes before you take notice that you’ve already arrived at the dreaded location. Noticing you’ve gone quiet, Minghao turns to you, hand already on the doors.
“You okay? Why do you look so weirded out?” You shake your head at him, giving him a weak smile as he opens the door for you, letting you in first. “Thanks.”
Your eyes immediately scan around, searching for the silver haired bespectacled man, and to your mild disappointment, you don’t find him anywhere.
Minghao finds an empty table and begins setting down his books, taking out a sketch pad and his earbuds as he settles in.
“We’re gonna be here a while, so you better find something to do.”
Something to do, for you, means being Minghao’s errand girl when he asks you to find a couple books on colour theory; claiming he needs them while he continues to sketch and prepare his next painting. And like a good friend, you do, jotting down book titles and their locations before you head off.
You weave through bookshelves, getting closer to the part of the emptier part of the library that Wonwoo had taken you before and your body instinctively begins to heat up at the memory. You shake your head at the thoughts, moving past the shelves until you come upon the aisle with the books you’d need to gather for Minghao. FInding one, you pick it off the shelf, tucking it under your arm while you search for the next.
“Do you need a hand?”
The deep voice causes you to drop the book as you turn to face the silver haired male leaning up against the opposite shelf. “Fuck, do you have to s-scare me!?” The smirk on Wonwoo’s face is enough to send you blushing as you lean down to pick up the fallen object. “Aww, thought it’d be cute to surprise you for a little payback, sweetheart. After all, you did leave so quickly last time.” You bite the inside of your cheek, suddenly shy and refusing to make eye contact. “I… had to finish my--my essay…”
“I’m sure you did. I’m sure you didn’t just go home and think about me… Right? You were just a good little girl, weren’t you? You didn’t go home and get those cute fingers all wet from fingering yourself? Or maybe you got out some of your favorite toys, hmm? Didn’t pretend they were me instead?”
Wonwoo pushes off the shelf he’s leaning on to back you into a familiar position.
“Because I’ll be honest with you, sweetheart, I went home and thought about you all night. How that pussy would be so tight around me. And how fuckin’ small you’d be underneath me takin’ my big cock. And how you’d be such a good ‘lil thing and take all of it and then get it nice and wet for me when I make you fall apart.” He cages you against the shelf, leaning down to nose at your neck. “And how you’d keep begging me for more.”
You can’t help the moan that escapes you, your eyes fluttering shut at Wonwoo’s filthy words as he softly kisses your neck. “Mmh, Wonwoo…”
“But you were so selfish last time, y’kno? Didn’t even ask if I needed to cum. Just took your things and ran off. And I don’t like bad girls, sweetheart. So I’m going to have to punish you a little bit, won’t I?” Wonwoo slots a leg in between yours as he pressed into you, his cock already hard in his slacks. “But you want to be punished, don’t you?” Wonwoo pulls back, using his fingertips to tilt your head up. “Look at me, sweetheart. I want to know that you want this.” Your eyes immediately lock onto his, pupils already blown wide and panties already wet and all he’d done is talk to you.
“Yes… I--I want this. I want you.”
The library carpet is rough and makes your knees hurt while Wonwoo tugs on your hair, pushing you further down onto his cock. Your hands are neatly clasped behind your back as he uses your mouth to get off.
You’re convinced by now that Minghao’s sure you’ve just left with how long you’ve been “looking for those books”.
“Fuck, look at you, your mouth can barely take my cock. How’s your tight little pussy going to?” There’s a chuckle at the end of his words as he holds you down onto his cock, restricting your breathing. Your throat closes around him as he moans; the sounds music to your ears as you clench around nothing. The wetness is already pooling in your panties and you really just want to slide your hands into your shorts and relieve yourself.
Wonwoo lets up, giving you a second to catch your breath as he pulls you off of his cock; your eyes teary as you cough. He tilts your head up, admiring your teary eyes and swollen lips. “You’re really pretty like this, y’kno?” He grins down at you, licking his own lips. “Bet you just want me to fuck you now, huh?”
“Y-yeah…”
“Well, that’s too bad. Now, open your mouth. And don’t make a mess.” You pout up at him as he gently tugs on your hair in warning. He guides his cock towards your lips as you stick out your tongue to lick the head. Slowly, you work his cock back into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks around him until he hits the back of your throat again.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum soon.” You moan around Wonwoo, the vibrations sending chills up his spine as his grip on your hair tightens. He shallowly thrusts into your mouth as you hollow your cheeks around him. You can’t help the way your thighs rub together to try and satisfy yourself; hoping Wonwoo doesn’t notice.
“Fu--Fuck, I’m c-cumming, don’t--don’t swallow it, sweetheart, I want to see it in that mouth of yours.” Humming around him, you listen; the salty substance meeting your tongue as he fills your mouth with it.
Wonwoo slides his cock from your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting the head of it to your lips.
“Open your mouth, let me see it.” You open your mouth, showing him all the cum in your mouth as he hums appreciatively. “Swallow it.” Wonwoo’s eyes are hyper focused on you when you do, opening your mouth again to show him you’ve swallowed all of it.
“Good girl.”
When you trudge back to Minghao’s table with all the books he asked for, you hope to god he doesn’t notice that you’d been crying and choking on Wonwoo’s cock.
You set the books down next to him as he tugs a earbud out, giving you a look before he picks up one of the books and pries it open.
“Hey, you okay? Why are your knees all beat up?”
“Oh, um, the books were on the lower shelves so I… I had to get on my knees for them and, ykno.. Look. I, uh, had a hard time finding them.”
He hums, sticking the earbud back into place as he quietly goes back to work.
“Well, at least you were on your knees helping me find books and not sucking dick, right?”
You freeze, awkwardly laughing as your panties sticking to your folds uncomfortably from when you came untouched with Wonwoo’s cock down your throat.
“Haha, yeah. True.”
#fratboy!wonwoo#wonwoo smut#seventeen smut#svt smut#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo imagines#seventeen imagines#svt imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt scenarios
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I love your writing so so much!! Prompt: middle-aged husbands! Newt gets back from a work trip with some salt and pepper scruff he didn't have time to shave and Hermann goes a little weak in the knees
oh ho ho....also everything im writing this month and next must necessarily be set a snowy setting sry. as always thank u to k-sci-janitor for bouncing ideas w me over discord mild sexy stuff below cut!
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When Newton stumbles through the front door in a flurry of snow and clatter of suitcases two weeks after he left for a research trip, Hermann notices two things; the first, that the cliche about absence making the heart grow fonder really is true, the second, that Newton’s cheeks (when Hermann rushes to meet him in a rather embarrassingly fast fashion and allows himself to be scooped up into Newton’s arms, of all things) are distinctly...rougher than usual. Rougher, and pricklier. “How’s the hottest scientist in the world?” Newton says, after an entirely inappropriate amount of kissing. The neighbors could see, for goodness’ sake. “God, dude, I missed you so fucking much.”
“Close the door,” Hermann laughs. “You’re letting all the heat out, and the bloody snow in.”
But Newton merely kisses him again and again, cornering him against the wall and settling his hands low on Hermann’s hips. His cheeks scratch Hermann’s skin; Hermann shivers, not knowing whether from it or the chill of the air. “How much did you miss me?” Newton murmurs.
“Not enough to put on a show for the neighbors,” Hermann chides, though he shivers again when Newton nuzzles against him. He taps the end of his cane against the sodden laces of Newton’s boots. “Mm, ah, come on, I’ve lit a fire, and, and made us tea, take your—wet things off, and—”
Newton steps back with a grin. “You gonna warm me up, Hermann?”
“With a fire and tea,” Hermann says. He shuts the door before more snow can drift in to melt on the hardwood. “Er. For now, anyway. And do hang your jacket this time.”
Newton stumbles out of his winter things in record time, and then stumbles after Hermann the moment they’re tossed haphazardly onto the coat rack. “It’s so…neat in here,” he says, marveling as they pass through the tidy kitchen to get to the equally tidy sitting room, where the fireplace blazes away. “Did you do anything besides clean while I was gone?”
The truth of the matter is that Hermann (lost to mathematical abstraction, and lacking a partner to snap him out of it) let his clutter—half-finished tea, discarded notebook pages, broken pencils and chalk—pile up on every available surface throughout the two weeks of Newton’s absence, and only remembered the previous evening that this was not the usual state of their flat and he ought to see to it very quickly before Newton arrived home. He hopes Newton doesn’t take a peek inside their study any time soon. “Er, something like that,” Hermann says. “Clean, and miss you horrendously. How was the trip?”
“Long,” Newton says. He sits on the couch and drags Hermann down with him. There’s something different in his face Hermann can’t quite put his finger on—he’s changed somehow, Hermann is sure of it, but the question is how? Has he resorted to his spare pair of glasses? No—these are the ones he usually wears; Hermann can see the miniscule crack at the bottom of the left lens, sustained after a particularly energic round of lovemaking in which Hermann rolled right over on top of them. Not that any of that is at all relevant, of course. “Lonely. Fascinating, though, I wish you’d come with me.”
Newton was excited about his trip for weeks. Even the extinction of his object of study couldn’t make him any less one of the top k-biologists, and he was brought in to oversee the salvaging of some of the very last kaiju remains in existence—preserved all these years since the closure of the Breach by the ice of Alaska. Newton sent picture after picture of it, the snow, him bumbling around in the snow in Hermann’s borrowed winter parka, the team he led bundled up in parkas of their own. Hermann knows he ought to ask about it and ask how the salvage efforts went; he knows he ought to ask about the cold, and the snow, and whether or not the other remaining k-scientists were anyone they’d worked with before. Instead, he can’t seem to stop squinting at Newton. “Have you cut your hair?” Hermann says. “Or styled it differently, perhaps? Only there’s something so different about you, I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Different?” Newton says, frowning. “What do you—?" Then he laughs. “Oh! Yeah, I was wayyyy too busy to shave. You’re looking at, like, about as close as I ever get to a full-on beard.” He drags his hand over his jaw, and it rasps audibly. Of course—how did Hermann not realize that from Newton’s scratchy kisses? His stubble, usually so carefully maintained (even in the midst of the war), is overgrown enough to verge on thick, and for the first time Hermann notices the decent smattering of grey across it. It’s—well—it’s hardly a bad look on him. Rather, Hermann might say it’s the opposite. It makes him look older, a bit more…er, distinguished. “You like it?”
Hermann remembers the marvelous way it scratched across his skin. “Hmm,” he says.
Newton laughs again, and tugs at the front of Hermann’s sweater. “C’mon, take this off already. It’s been two weeks, dude.”
Hermann can’t argue with that logic.
Later, in bed, as Newton—having volunteered selflessly for the duty of big spoon—snores away happily at Hermann’s back, Hermann considers recent developments. He’s never been dissatisfied with Newton’s appearance before; he’s never looked at his husband and thought oh, I wish his hair was a bit different, or I could do without those glasses. Certainly never I want him to have a big, magnificent face of grey stubble that tickles my neck and my chest and my thighs and… Hermann presses his face into his pillow and groans in mortification. Oh, but God, it is an improvement. It’s an improvement Hermann never knew Newton needed. Not that he did need it—it’s just—Oh.
Newton mumbles something in his sleep and rolls away from Hermann. His stubble catches and drags on the back of Hermann’s neck, and Hermann stifles a moan into the pillow this time. Newton intends to shave it off, Hermann knows. Hermann watched him unpack his suitcase in the bedroom, watched him carefully tuck his shaving kit back into the medicine cabinet with a laugh and a reassurance of that very fact (take a picture while you can, it’s coming off tomorrow), all while he felt the tingle of irritated skin between his thighs that Newton had left behind on the couch. He snuck a glimpse at it when he changed into pyjamas—a faded red that matches that on his neck.
To explain to Newton why it is imperative he not proceed with his planned shave would be far too mortifying an experience for Hermann to undergo. And Newton would certainly never let him hear the end of it. No; it would be better to take matters into his own hands. Hermann swings two socked feet to the floor and reaches for his cane as quietly as he can manage.
Newton’s back-up disposable razors are snapped in two and buried in the bottom of the trashcan, beneath two weeks’ worth of dental floss and paper Dixie cups. His nice shaving kit proves a bit more of a challenge, not in the least because Hermann bought it for him as a birthday gift not long ago, and the thought of intentionally damaging it makes him cringe. He settles on simply stealing all the razor attachments and hiding them at the bottom of the spare hand towel basket. Hopefully, by the time they turn up, Newton will have long-since decided to grow out his stubble even further.
Newton stirs very lightly when Hermann tucks himself back beneath the bedspread and Newton’s arm. “’S the matter?” he mumbles.
“Had to use the loo,” Hermann whispers back.
“Mm,” Newton says, and presses his lips Hermann’s shoulder once before his breathing slowly evens out.
Hermann lazes in bed late the next morning. Late for them, anyway; pseudo-retirement hasn’t managed to knock a decade of strict routine out of him and Newton yet, and they still wake and dress before the sunrise like the war never ended. However, a soft, warm, and jetlagged Newton in his arms is hard to pull himself away from, especially with nothing but a foot of snow outside to look forward to, so he lets himself drift happily in and out of dreams for a good hour or so. Until Newton’s cell phone alarm startles them both up, that is. “Ugh,” Newton groans, smacking around on the bedside table for it. “Stupid thing. Where—”
He left it on Hermann’s bedside table. Hermann switches it off.
“Thanks, dude,” Newton says. He yawns. “Got a meeting this afternoon about the, uh, samples. Never get a break.”
Hermann hears him walk to the bathroom. He hears him open the medicine cabinet. He hears the zip of his shaving kit bag. “Uh,” Newton says. He pokes his head into the bedroom. “Hermann, do you know what happened to my razor?”
Hermann sits up and feigns a frown. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Like, all the parts are gone,” Newton says. He rifles through the kit again, as if to be sure, and shakes his head. “Yeah. They’re all gone. Shit, did I leave them at the base?”
“Oh, no,” Hermann says. “Your nice razor? The one I got you?”
Newton ducks back into the bathroom; Hermann hears him rattle around in the medicine cabinet again. “All my razors are missing. What the hell? I have a meeting in a few hours, I can’t show up looking like—” There’s a loud clatter, as if Newton knocked all their medication bottles over into the sink, and he swears. “Oh, well that’s fucking peachy.” He slams the cabinet door shut.
“Newton, come back to bed,” Hermann calls. He and Newton have limited time before they’re meant to start their responsibilities for the day, and he would like very much to enjoy that time to the fullest. “You’re making a mess of things. I’m sure you’ve just misplaced your razor—perhaps it’s in your suitcase.” When Newton doesn’t immediately bend to his command, Hermann rolls his eyes and lowers his voice. “Newton, darling,” he says, though this time in more of a purr. “Come back to bed.”
Newton is back and on Hermann in a flash. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he says between kisses. His fingers creep up Hermann’s pajama shirt and graze over Hermann’s ribs before tugging the shirt off entirely. “Hermann, I missed having sex with you so bad. You have no idea. Ugh.” He grinds his prick, already hard, into Hermann’s clothed thigh, and nips at his ear. “I kept thinking about your stupid sexy face, and your stupid sexy dick, and your stupid hair—” He burrows himself into the crook of Hermann’s newly bared neck and shoulder and kisses his collarbone, and Hermann moans at the scratchy sensation of his stubble shadow before he can help himself.
“Newton,” he gasps, “oh, bugger—”
“Ha, yeah, you like when I talk about your sexy dick, babe?” Newton says. “It’s so awesome and sexy, I can’t wait to—"
“Not that,” Hermann says. “Kiss me there again.” Newton obliges; Hermann whimpers and shivers, and (before he can help himself) confesses aloud “Oh, that damn beard of yours… I want it all over me…”
Newton pulls away with a frown. “You do?” he says. “Wait. Hermann—did you do something to my razor?”
“No,” Hermann lies. He wiggles around in a desperate attempt to get Newton’s stubble back on his skin, but Newton only pulls back further. He sighs. “Er. Perhaps. They’re just hidden, is all.”
Newton’s frown flicks up into a grin, and he laughs. “Dude, you could’ve just told me. You’re so dumb. So you like when I do this, then?” He dips back down to kisses a trail along Hermann’s sternum, making sure to graze his cheeks over his skin at every inch. “Or this?” He ducks beneath the covers and nuzzles at Hermann’s abdomen.
“Yes,” Hermann moans to the Newton-shaped lump under the blanket. Newton’s fingers work open his drawstring and slowly inch his pajama trousers down. “Yes, Newton, ah—”
“Or—”
Suffice to say, Newton keeps the beard.
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29 for mazlek cause it sounds like such a hoe thing to say
This took longer than planned, probably because it’s longer than planned. Ive put it under a read more. I hope you like it anon.
If anyone is triggered by illness, Joe is unwell in this - not seriously though. But there is talk of vomiting so avoid it if that's triggering for you.
29. What do you mean you’re sick, you’re supposed to be my partner in crime.
Joe’s phone buzzed continuously on his bedside locker, the sound puncturing his temples like a drill.
His stomach rolled as he moved to lie on his side and attempted to reach his phone; memories of last night spent with his head in the toilet flooding back and causing him to flee from his bed for what felt like the millionth time in the last twelve hours.
As he re-emerged from his bathroom; making a mental note to buy more cleaning products, he heard keys rattling in his front door.
“Joe!” His best friends voice made his head hurt, even from downstairs.
Walking as slowly as possible so not to jostle his stomach, he peeped round his door and croaked “Up here.”
His voice was shot after last night, throat burning from throwing up so much.
“Rami” God he sounded pathetic,
“Can you bring me water.......please?”
“You okay?” Rami shouted; Joe heard the water run as he made his way back to bed before he keeled over. Closing his eyes he could distantly hear Rami moving around downstairs.
“Joe?” He peeped open one eye and saw Rami standing over him; beautifully dressed as always, concern etching his face.
“You look awful Joey.” He handed him the water. Joe sat up gingerly and took a few sips; immediately regretting it as his stomach cramped up.
“Sorry......I........” he dashed into the bathroom again, pushing past Rami on the way.
“You alright?........want me to come in?” Rami hovered by the bathroom door.
“No.....god no” Joe managed to get out. There was no way he wanted Rami of all people watching him throw up.
While Joe hugged the toilet, Rami eyed his sheets suspiciously; he could tell Joe had slept fitfully. The duvet was twisted and the bottom sheet had come off the corner of the mattress. By the time Joe emerged from the bathroom, Rami had fresh, clean sheets on his bed and had put the others in a pile by the door. He’d put them in the wash later.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Joe mumbled weakly, as he slipped between the fresh, cool sheets; sighing as he closed his eyes.
Rami’s hand pressed gently against his forehead, “You’re not burning up......do you think it’s something you ate?” He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling at a loose thread on Joe’s grey duvet.
“Dunno.......too sick to go today though.... I’m sorry.” Joe’s hand flapped around looking to squeeze Rami’s in his own.
“You can’t be sick. You’re my partner in crime. What would Snafu have to say about this?” Rami smiled, grabbing his hand and squeezing softly.
“Probably the same thing you just said” Joe replied weakly, he attempted a smile; which quickly turned into a grimace as his stomach cramped up again.
“I’m gonna call Jas and go get you some medicine.....be right back.” Rami’s patted his hand as Joe drifted off to sleep again.
Rami picked up the sheets by the door and headed downstairs.
He pushed his disappointment at Joe being ill aside as he put the washing machine on.
The reunion for The Pacific cast was an annual event and this year was the first time Rami and Joe could actually attend together, their busy schedules meaning only one or other of them had been able to show up previously. Rami walked past Joe’s navy suit, hanging up on a hook in the hall. He would have looked damn good in that, Rami thought as he made his way outside.
“Joe?” Rami squeezed Joe’s shoulder, attempting to rouse him, “I have some stuff you need to drink......don’t want you dehydrating.”
“Mmmmmmm” Joe rolled over, blinking blearily at Rami’s face.
“You need to go...you ll be late....”
“I think I should stay.....I’m worried about you.” Rami pushed Joe’s hair back from his forehead.
“I’m gross Rami.......you probably don’t wanna touch me.......and you’re going.....they’re expecting you.” Joe managed to push himself into a sitting position, sighing heavily at the effort.
“But what if you get worse?” Rami asked; hands on his hips.
“I ll call you....it’s only..what? A ten minute cab drive away?”
“What if you collapse or something?”
Joe took a tentative sip of his mug of rehydration salts, grimacing at the taste, “Then you’ll find me when you get back.”
“Joe that’s not funny.”
“Rami, I’m gonna be sleeping......please go have lunch and just give my apologies okay. I ll be fine.”
Rami huffed “Promise you won’t try and go downstairs or anything?”
“I promise......and thank you....for this ...........delicious concoction.” Joe lifted his mug in gratitude, wrinkling his nose.
“Right well if you’re sure?”
“I am”
Joe watched as Rami fussed with his blankets, making sure his phone and bottle of water was nearby, adding the tv remote control and a large bowl that that he pulled out from beside the bed.
“Just in case” he said as he placed it beside Joe on the duvet.
Joe felt a warm, comforting feeling spread over his chest, the crampy, sick feeling in his stomach eased somewhat by the butterflies now erupting in there. This had been happening a lot recently, Joe choosing to ignore it; but today that seemed a lot harder to do.
A few drinks in and talk turned to relationships; most of the guys were happily married, Rami being one of the only ones yet to settle down.
He checked his phone again as Martin rambled on about some house he was renovating; he couldn’t stop worrying about Joe and it seemed some of the others had noticed his detachment from the conversation.
“Rami” Ashton patted his arm, “You ok?”
Putting down his phone, Rami sighed and leant back in his chair, taking a long pull of his beer.
“Yeah......I’m worried about Joe....”
“He’s a big boy...I’m sure he’s fine.”
“You didn’t see him.....he’s really sick. Maybe I should go?” He raised his eyebrows at Ashton, “Do you think I should?”
Ashton smiled as Brendan rolled his eyes next to him.
“Jesus Christ” he drawled and Rami was whisked back to Australia and Bill Leyden saying the same thing to Snafu’s new nickname for Sledge.
“What?” Rami felt all eyes on him as the table quietened.
“You have some patience man” Brendan continued “12 years is it? Go get your man and quit sitting here worrying about him.”
“What?” Rami said again. He knew he was flushed red and he also knew that what Brendan has said was true.
He pushed back from the table and headed to the bar.
“He’s right y’know.” Martin joined him at the bar, Rami’s second whiskey doing little to calm his nerves. How in fuck did everyone know? Did Joe? Fuck.
“Yeah well it’s not that simple is it? He’s my best friend.” Rami stared at the brown liquid in his tumblr “I can’t risk ruining it.”
“So you happy to carry on pretending? Think of what you might have if you take that risk. Joe’s not an asshole.......he‘ll .....he’ll be good to you no matter what.” Martin clapped him on the back and headed to the bathroom.
He was right. Rami could have everything he’d ever wanted if he was just willing to risk everything he currently had. Knocking back his whiskey he cursed himself for coming and the boys confusing the hell out of him. He wished Joe was here.
“Rami!” Ashton shouted from their table near the bar, “Your phones ringing!”
“It’s lover boy!” Brendan yelled and Rami’s stomach plummeted. Joe said he’d only call him if he felt worse, he needed to leave.
Snatching his phone from Ashton he turned away from the table as he answered;
“Joey” the pet name slipping from his mouth unconsciously. He could hear Brendan snorting behind him and Martin and Ashton telling him to shut up.
“What’s......what’s wrong? Are you ok? I can come back now...”
“Rami.....stop” Joe sounded exhausted, “I just woke up and I have a weird rash on my chest.”
Rami’s felt sick. A range of horrendous ailments entering his head at Joe’s words.
“Is your neck sore?”
“What? No..... why?”
“Meningitis” Rami rambled on “I’m gonna call Jas. Please don’t get up Joey....please.....just wait.”
“Okay” Joe whispered, slightly concerned himself over the level of Rami’s worry.
Rami sat down heavily into his chair. The boys eyes all immediately focused on his pale face.
It was Brendan that unsurprisingly broke the silence, but speaking softly and somewhat uncharacteristically.
“Is he ok?”
Rami’s phone pinged on the table top, as a message came through. Joe had sent a picture of the rash on his chest - Send this to Jas. Might help. X
Ashton’s brow furrowed at the picture.
“Go see if he’s ok please.....I’m worried now.”
Rami nodded “Please can we do this again.... before next year?”
They all nodded, murmuring agreements and adding “with Joe as well.”
“Im gonna head off then…..Joe....he....yeah.” Rami trailed off.
Martin grabbed his wrist from across the table
“Tell him Rami.”
“But what if he doesn’t feel the same?”
“Oh I honestly don’t think that will be a problem” smiled Ashton.
Rami crept quietly up the staircase, not wanting to wake Joe from much needed sleep. His bedroom door was open and Rami could see Joe bundled under his duvet through the now dim light of the evening.
Jas has said he needed to be cooled down to get rid of the heat rash, so Rami tiptoed quietly to the bathroom; leaving another cup of rehydration salts on Joe’s bedside locker.
After wetting a washcloth with cool water, and wringing it out, Rami padded over to Joe kneeling down next to the bed and peeling back the covers.
Rami’s stomach flipped at the sight of Joe sleeping, soft and peaceful. When had this started? When had things changed? Rami wracked his memory. Could you fall in love with someone over the space of 12 years and not realise? He stared at Joe’s sleeping face; he was so handsome, and Rami was taken aback by just how attracted to him he was. Rami smiled to himself, maybe he should take a chance? Joe was everything to him, and Rami was now realising he wanted him to be even more.
“Stop staring at me” Joe’s croaky voice startled Rami into action.
“Sorry.....I.....Jas said you need to cool down...you have a rash cos you’re sweaty. Here.” Rami showed him the folded wash cloth and Joe turned onto his back.
Joe shivered as Rami pulled down the duvet off Joe’s heated chest and placed the washcloth on his forehead.
“Okay?.......there’s more salts for you to take there...” Rami pointed to the bedside locker.
“Oooh yum...” Joe said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and grinning at Rami.
“How you feeling?”
“Groggy....but my stomach isn’t crampy now....so hopefully I can actually sleep tonight.” Joe peered at Rami from under the washcloth.
“Will you stay?........I hate to ask.....but....but..”
“Joe......you don’t have to ask....of course I will....”
“Thank you.....oh! how was lunch?”
Rami sat up against the headboard in Joe’s huge bed and filled him in on all the news from their cast mates, answering Joe’s questions but leaving out one very specific conversation.
“They all send their love....hope you feel better soon.”
“Ashton text me actually....” Joe turned on his side “Said you left early.”
Rami couldn’t look at Joe, he felt his pulse race as he stared out the window at the darkening sky.
“Rami......” Joe’s hand found his and he squeezed gently.
“You’ve always been so good to me...........too good to me......I.......I......thank you.” Joe sat up. He grimaced as his head pounded at the change of position, but crossed his legs and sat facing Rami.
“Joe.....lie down...”
“Why did you come back early?”
Rami searched Joe’s face for any sign that he was messing around. He knew Joe well enough by now to recognise a lift on one side of his mouth that always gave him away. It wasn’t there, his face was soft, open, and as gorgeous as Rami has ever seen it; even with his sickly pallor and bed head.
“I think you know why” Rami murmured.
“I think I know too......but I’ve been really wrong about things like this in the past so......”
Rami winced, Joe had never had much luck dating. Rami had always been there to pick up the pieces with him.
“Joe” Rami wanted, he wanted so badly to pull Joe into his lap.
“You have no idea how much I wanna kiss you right now.”
Joe grinned, his whole face lighting up as Rami ran his hand up his arm; leaving goosebumps in his wake.
“Give me 12 hours and I’m all yours” he murmured as he pulled Rami into a hug.
“Thank you for today......but.....can you sleep in the spare room because I honestly don’t think I’d be able to keep my hands off you if you’re......in here......”
Joe pulled reluctantly away from Rami’s arms, realisation dawning on what he’d just said.
“Uuuh I mean.....I don’t wanna make you sick” he stared at the sheets below him, flexing his long toes.
Joe woke early the next morning , the rain pounding against his window. Stretching, he assessed himself for any stomach or headache and found that he felt much better, not one hundred percent. But better.
Running his hands over his face as he yawned, he sat bolt upright in bed as he remembered who was currently in his spare room and the conversation they’d had. His body moved without him thinking as he headed to the shower and to brush his teeth.
As the hot water pounded against his back, he let himself imagine what might possibly happen today. He’d always loved Rami; but had made himself believe they were just really close friends. He never really thought Rami felt the same though, and Joe wasn’t gonna jeopardise their incredible friendship by telling Rami how he felt.
Turns out most of their cast mates on The Pacific could see it a mile away. They were both idiots really; all the heartache they could have saved each other. Although Joe laughed to himself as he remembered that anytime either of them had split with someone, they’d immediately gone to each other for comfort.
It had been obvious to everyone, except them.
Joe knocked quietly on the door to the spare room; it was early and Rami liked to lie in at the weekend, but when Joe pushed open the door he found Rami standing at the window in his boxers. His mouth immediately went dry.
“Uuuuhhmmmm morning...” Joe croaked.
Rami grinned. “You feeling better?” He asked as Joe moved into the room. His bare toes dug into the soft grey carpet, as his heart beat erratically in his chest.
“Yeah....I am....”
“Thank God” Rami interrupted him as he made his way over to Joe and took his hands in his own.
“I’ve waited twelve years to do this......I can’t wait any longer.”
“Rami...” Joe whispered as their lips met and they finally fell into each other.
“Breakfast?…..you feel like you could eat something?” Rami couldn’t stop touching Joe; any part of his body, it was like he’d been starved of it. His fingers were currently skimming the waistband of Joe’s sweatpants where they hung low on his hips.
Joe’s head was pillowed on Rami’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.
“I could eat you?” Joe smiled into Rami’s bare chest, breathing in his scent and nibbling at his nipple.
“Hey!” Rami pushed him away, then pulled his face to his, both hands on his cheeks.
“I want .........god I want you so bad” he pushed his hardening cock against Joe’s thigh, shivering at Joe’s answering moan.
“But when you have your strength back......Jas said....”
“Wait....you asked your sister when we could have sex?” Joe began to laugh “Oh my god......”
“No! Joe c’mon.....you know what I mean......” Rami pushed his erection against Joe again,
whispering in his ear “Just think about how good it will be.....”
Joe flopped onto his back groaning, “I’m gonna need another shower” he added as he pressed down on the bulge in his sweatpants.
Joe didn’t ever think he’d been this sexually frustrated in his life. He’d had a semi all day, Rami only had to look at him and he wanted to bend him over the back of the couch. It was like his cock had now been given permission to react to Rami. They’d spent all their spare time together the last few years, and he’d never had this problem. His cock was like a dog being finally let off a leash.
Rami sat in his boxers and a t-shirt, Joe’s head in his lap as they watched a cooking show. Joe was snoring softly, his warm breath tickling Rami’s thighs. He ran his fingers through Joe’s soft hair, smiling at what today had brought.
Pulling out his phone he snapped a pic of his hand resting in Joe’s hair as he slept soundly on his lap.
He sent it to Joe’s phone with the caption:
“I’ve always loved you.”
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EPISODE 157
I know I said I would be right back, but I literally forgot about this the second I typed that and then i literally got so exhausted I couldn’t concentrate on anything so sorry for literally wasting a bunch of time, but here it is lol
This isn’t proofread either bc its three in the morning and im pretty tired of reading words
Honorable mentions:
I really want to see Remi with her hair down. Like, without the bow, strands of hair in her face kind of down…
Every once in a while I have to say this somewhere: I need Claire to be returned to UnOrdinary, thank you, it’s been a while since I said that, i had to again
Not really gonna metion John worrying about Seraphina because that’s to be expected plus he doesn’t really know anything about why she was acting weird to it doesn’t matter
I think I’m going to go through all four of the characters in this chapter and talk about each of their stances because that’s the only thing i can think to do
Arlo:
God, it seems like I say this anytime the other royals questions his decisions. Arlo is the best leader that I’ve seen in UnOrdinary. His ability to see the bigger picture most of the time paired with his ability to command others and have them listen: he’s unique in this sense from all of the others characters in UnOrdinary.
And that’s why it infuriates me so much when the others question him, god. I’ve said this shit too many times, that I don’t want to repeat myself, but if you search up #episode 152, and maybe one other that I can’t seem to find, on my page, I rant about this there. Arlo is just the best leader ever and I want everyone to know that.
Anyway, so Arlo comes in all sulky and stuff. Sulky is far from the right word, but I can’t think at the moment i guess so yeah. Anyway, this is understandable. All Arlo’s been saying for forever is that everyone just needs to leave John alone. At one point in time, he was the only person who really knew about John that was of consequence (Meili and Ventus don’t really count. I wonder where they are right now lmao). He knew from, when was that, around episode 80? Anyway, ever since the other royals have become involved with Tuesday, Arlo always warns them against it. You would think that one of them would have listened to him, but I don’t think anyone did. Not even when they knew that Arlo had already fought him, that he knew so much about him. Still, nobody heeded Arlo’s advice, which he was only giving because he didn’t want to see any of them hurt. But the royals, especially Remi, ignored all of his warnings and now they’re in the hospital, so, yeah, it’s understandable that Arlo is kind of grouchy when he comes in. He doesn’t lash out though, because he’s a great leader and knows that will accomplish nothing except for lowering morale (i will NOT stop saying this lol).
Everything I said here is basically pointed out by Remi. Which is great. I appreciate that she doesn't look past her mistakes in an attempt to hide from her emotions like she did when she was fighting EMBER. Remi tends to ignore her own emotions by acting and while I get it, at the same time, it’s wildly irresponsible.
Anyway, back to Arlo because this is his section: his advice for what to do about John is that should just let him be, which the advice he gives every time that Remi has asked that smh, but at least she doesn’t really argue with this. She does try to shut that idea down though… but ill talk about that in Remi’s section. There’s too much of her in this one. I don’t like it. Anyway, back to what Arlo was thinking. Arlo, as always, has the right idea. He knows that there is literally no other choice other than to sit back and watch things happen because a. John is the rightful king and can do whatever he wants and it is not against the rules because b. John publicity defeated every single royal in combat. Some at the same time. It really isn’t an option for the former royals to try to fight back against him again because for gods sake, have of them are in the hospital…
Anyway, there’s not actually that much for me to say about Arlo in this one other than the fact that his leadership goes under appreciated and they always regret not listening to him.
Blyke:
Blyke is in sad boi hours right now. He hasn’t spoken a lot when Arlo and Isen arrive, but he’s probably lost in thought. Not good thoughts, bad thoughts. Blyke… he has really just lived out one of his worst nightmares, he’s given in to one of his biggest insecurities. Blyke failed by a.) not recognizing John as Tuesday even though they share the same down and b.) losing so horrifically to Tuesday. We all know Blyke is worried if he’ll be a good enough king when the time comes and Arlo has to leave. This incident didn’t help that worry. Blyke even talks about it out loud. I’m actually really worried for Blyke. He’s been hit really hard recently and it’s like he’s falling down this pit of self-hate and anxiety. My man was even bringing up like EMBER, talking about how he ‘failed’ then too, even though he clearly was the hero in that situation. He says, “So much has happened… with all that EMBER stuff… and now John becoming Joker… We couldn’t handle any of it,” which is what I just explained, but then he continues and goes, “I was already having doubts about my capabilities… But this last fight really opened my eyes. I’m weak.” This is Blyke’s really insecurity. The root of all of his other anxiety is the feeling that he isn’t good enough, that he’s going to let everyone down.
Also, Blyke doesn’t have anywhere to really go because, yeah, he shares a dorm with John, but that’s not that big of a deal right now because he’s in the hospital and he’s got Isen to go to like he has before. Still pretty sad though. The constant reminder of his ‘failure.’ Tuesday was his roommate that he treated like trash this whole time and now anytime Blyke thinks of his home, he’ll remember that. :(. I’m sad. I really like Blyke actually.
Remi:
Okay so I’ve already talked about Remi a bit in Arlo’s section. I’ll try to elaborate on some of that (barely) because this is the proper section.
First of all, Remi apologizing. I was happy about this because, it’s been too many times that Remi or some other royal doesn’t listen to Arlo. It’ about time someone apologized. I’m mostly happy, however, because Remi is finally acknowledging that she knows how naive she generally is, which always used to get on my nerves. I’ve called her a bad queen for this, and I stand by that still, but now it’s nice to see Remi herself recognizing that, even if it’s a bit of a sad thing to see.
But then literally the next thing that comes out of her mouth is that they have to go and stop John and I literally facepalm, I’m so sorry I’m probably being really biased here by my opinions on Remi, but really. Not much more to say on this other than I agree with Arlo.
I do have something else to comments on briefly, though
After Blyke spills his problems, his worries, after he says that he is too weak to even take care of himself, Remi says nothing. She just… sits there. This is probably one of the only instances in this chapter of Remi’s growth, but maybe I’m being a bit too harsh on her, but seriously…? I was expecting her to step in soon after Blyke started talking. I was definitely expecting to see her talk after Blyke says, “-this last fight really opened up my eyes. I’m weak.” Remi has always been close to Blyke. She’s also always been so positive and reassuring to others. I’m not sure if the absence of this in this scene is distance from Blyke (lost in her own thoughts), or agreement with what he’s saying about them. I don’t know. I just,,, thought this was something I should point out. She really left Blyke like that. But honestly, with how she was acting before, though, I think she’s feeling really similar to Blyke, herself. Both of them have been pretty self-deprecating this episode.
Isen:
After saying hi, Isen literally says one thing the whole episode and it’s that Blyke can stay with him, so there’s not really anything there oof. Would’ve been pretty cool to see him interact with Remi more, but I always appreciate Isen whenever, so it’s no big deal.
———————————————————-
Gavin and Tuesday: (two completely different ideas here. First one is right below this and second one is further below)
Now we’re moving to that scene of Tuesday and Gavin and like..??? What the fuck was that
Is John just going to go after anyone who’s ever hurt him before now? I’m not going to lie, it doesn’t make sense. John literally spent such a long time without using his powers and never really came close to using them until Arlo interfered. If he is truly going after the people that hurt him in the past, that’s a very impulsive thing to do, and John’s control over his own power and the restraint he possesses makes me believe that he isn’t an impulsive person. Maybe at New Bostin, but he’s changed since then. I know know he’s being forced into a similar position to that he held at New Bostin, but after all this time, and the horrendous experience that John’s already lived through concerning his old school, I still believe that John would try to avoid the same thing happening here at all costs. Even when he snapped and went after all of the royals, he only did it to take down the hierarchy, which gave power to the powerful and took from the already weak. It just doesn’t make sense that John’s going after Gavin now, someone that’s only real connection that I believe we know of to John is that they fought in like episode two or something. Gavin is barely a mid-tier. If John really was trying to stay away from being the monster he used to be, I don’t think he would purposely hunt this one kid thats much weaker than him and literally barely interacted with him. It’s clear that John would win that fight, so what’s the point.
And obvious argument is that maybe, John is slowly turning back into the person he was at New Bostin. Maybe even after all of those readjustment classes and reflecting and repressing of his powers, John still can’t run from who he is, what he is. Maybe the monster that surfaced at New Bostin, maybe he can’t escape that.
And as much as I love that, which I admit, I would (do you know how interesting that would be?), I’m not sure if the evidence supports that..? I don’t know, it might, but the fact that all of (all of them right?) the times John has fought someone has either been as revenge for hurting Seraphina or because he was trying to take down the hierarchy, which I’ve already said doesn’t support John returning to the person he was. For all of his attacks, John has had something for each: a motive. This isn’t that special, though because John had motives even back when he was at New Bostin because literally that was the entire plot of that history lol. I don’t know. So basically, this fight with Gavin is very reminiscent of whenever Tuesday would fight those people that hurt Seraphina.The royals were the result of a feeling of injustice, but everything else stemmed from the motive of revenge. John has always used his revenge as an acceptable motive when deciding whether or not to act on something. Whether he realizes it or not, it’s the real connection between him and the old John. Their need for revenge ruined everything for them. John couldn’t handle when Claire betrayed him so he beat her up as a consequence. Hunting down Sera’s assaulters and absolutely demolishing her kidnappers show this too. And so does this scene. John is hunting down Gavin over revenge, and as long as John fuels his need for revenge, he’ll never be able to truly escape his past. So maybe the evidence does support John slowly regressing back into the person he was, despite his wishes. He’s changed so much since Now Bostin, but sadly, he hasn’t been able to shake his tendency to hold grudges until he literally cannot contain them any longer and he lashes out.
It was kind of weird how hesitant John acted at the end of this encounter, though, because he just let Gavin go, but I’ve decided to ignore this because the fact that the character this happens with is Gavin, I refuse to believe that this whole thing is insignificant (wrong word but words are hard.)
Second idea:
Okay so apparently the person appeared as Tuesday at the like middle of this episode, apparently there’s a chance that it wasn’t actually John. This has been brought to my attention in the comments of this post so this little bit has been added a day after I initially posted this.
The argument is that because the person presented as Tuesday in this week’s episode has yellower eyes than John does, it could be some person only pretending to be Tuesday, which is obviously a possibility because Tuesday has already been established as the most powerful student at Wellston, but nobody know who he is. So any random mid-tier or something could just put a mask on and use a bit of their powers to scare anyone off (anyone would be too scared to fight Tuesday) and they’ll basically control the school cus people would take the imposter for the king. Anyway, before I get more into this, here are the pictures comparing John’s Tuesday and this episode’s Tuesday:
It’s pretty clear that the eyes of these two characters are a different color, but not too different that it’s that noticeable, which is why I didn’t notice this at first until it was pointed put to me. I wonder if this was even intentional... I feel like, if uru-Chan even ever meant for people to notice that Tuesday looks different, she would’ve used a much more different color. Or maybe one of the people that help her with coloring forgot what color eyes Joker had because John when his powers aren’t being used: they’re yellow. So, I’m not even completely sure that this Tuesday in this episode isnt John.
But at the same time... there’s some things I can’t help considering that make me think it’s more and more likely that this is someone different. First of all, this is honestly something really big to miss. Uru-Chan is a professional... it’s hard to believe she could’ve let this slide when her work has always been so meticulous. Also: with the way things went down this episode... it was kind of suspicious. I already talked about it a bunch above in the first part of this section that I posted first. But I didn’t really touch on why Tuesday just let Gavin walk because... well, I’ll be honest, I didn’t really know what to make of it. I even said that I’d elected to ignore it because it confused me... But if the Tuesday from this episode really isn’t John, then it all makes sense again. Like I said earlier in this half of the section, someone impersonating Joker wouldn’t really have to fight anyone to benefit from his power because everyone knows that Joker could kick their ass anyway, so it’s pointless to pick a fight. If this episode’s joker had decided to pursue Gavin, it could’ve lead them to a fight they would’ve been unprepared for.
Obviously, there’s more to talk about for this theory, like what this could possibly mean for John, for Wellston, or who it could possibly be, but because I’ve already posted this as a separarte episode analysis, I would rather save that for either a separate post this week, or as part of the next episode’s analysis. Thanks for reading and sticking with me and thanks @sunshines-and-tatertots alerting me to this lol.
Cecile and John:
So, Cecile’s understandably pissed at John because he isn’t claiming his power and that’s literally the only reason she’s siding with him. Because she wants him to be the king. I makes sense that she’s upset that he’s literally doing nothing instead of becoming king which would be the natural thing to do.
John’s response is literally that she needs to calm down, and while I get that he doesn’t feel the need to shove himself into the spotlight especially considering how he wants to keep his secret from Sera, that’s just going to piss off Cecile more. Or at least is would if she wasn’t so terrified of John, which she obviously is. I think John is more than Cecile can handle, and she wasn’t excepting that. Hell, it probably takes a lot to get to that level...
This has me thinking though… what could this kind of turmoil cause…? I’m hoping that maybe (pretty pretty please), Cecile will try to leave John’s side and join Arlo and the other royals the money i would pay to see that ugh… that potential…
#episode 157#webtoon#unordinary#unordinary webtoon#uruchan#uru-chan#line webtoon#webcomic#episode analysis#official
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Shipwrecks, Of the Wretched, de profundis ALL OF THE QUESTIONS
the
you think i will be intimidated by this BUT CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!!!! *cracks knuckles*
Shipwrecks
1. What inspired you to write the fic this way?
this fic is written mostly traditionally tbh - its cronologically told, in third person and mostly from one pov which is (and will be) feclicity. however, i have changed my mind about a lot of things since i started the fic - for one, i want to incorporate the whole ‘unreliable narrator’ thing a lot more. i want to use flashbacks more carefully: playing with timelines in how cetain present time events triger past moemories that illuminate the REASON behind present time choices. things like that.
the real inspiration for the fic itself was another fic i read - I've Never Truly Loved (Until You Put Your Arms Around Me) by theirhappystory. And the fact that i read that fic ... while i was on a boat... while there was a storm. a small one BUT STILL.
2: What scene did you first put down?
Whatever Walks Here, Walks Alone - aka oliver looking at felicity in the lair. by itself this scene could fit anywhere from the begining of season 1, to anywhere in season 2. i didnt really write it with a timeline in mind. it was mroe like me pondering the characters.
3: What's your favorite line of narration?
i had a LOT of fun - unexpected fun - writing Diggle’s pov in teh whole situation. you see, when i started the story the first thing i wanted to figure out was where do i want the characters to end up in relation to each other - so that i could start the story with them being in the diametrically opposite spot! but then i realized that i also want contrast within the trio - and where oliver and felicity move towards each other at a glacial pace, john and felicty have a much more easy time understanding where the other stands. like... they vibe. and it had a lot o fun planing out that vibe - and all teh ways it pisses off oliver, in the begining.
4: What's your favorite line of dialogue?
To answer this i would have to go back and re-read a lot of what i wrote and plan to write, but there is a line that STAYS with me and its one felicity says.
so - in the show, the trio do eventually find out that the Gambit was sabotaged and did not just sink. Now - in Shipwrecks - this would have a major devastating effect on felicity, who was in the gambit with oliver and sara. And she is the one that has the hunch that moira was involved (i think this happens in canon too?) - and she pushes oliver about it. Bc ofc she thinks of moira as just another person. Worse even - a person who hurt her. At this point she is MANIC about it and it freaks oliver out. Like, take the natural defensiveness he has against the idea and add a fear that felicity might genuinely kill his mother, and you get him being very agressively AGAINST felicity following moira anywhere. and when felicity understands that oliver has no intention of pursuing a what she sees as a genuine lead about the event that practically ruined them as people, she just, shuts down, makes a disgusted face, thinks of all the ritch fuckers she’s known and framed and used and how they close ranks when their reputation or personal interest is touched and just, blurts it out.
‘you fucking people.’
5: What part was hardest to write?
all of it lmao. like WRITING IT.
6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?
The fact that i planned it out and it has like, different installments and a whole journey, which is one of losing oneself, understanding that ones self has been lost, seeing vengence for that loss (aka giving in/facing the anger it causes), seeking freedom, going against ones impulses to build better ones, building relationships, mantaining them, finding ones self through small acts of kindness towards ones self, rebuilding ones personality
basically i wrote a journey about getting out of depression and grief, before i realized that THAT was what i was actually writing about.
7: Where did the title come from?
The title of the series is pretty straightforward: they were shipwrecked and now theyre coming back. 'above the vaulted sky’ is a line from a I am, by John Claire.
I am—yet what I am none cares or knows;My friends forsake me like a memory lost:I am the self-consumer of my woes—They rise and vanish in oblivious host,Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throesAnd yet I am, and live—like vapours tossedInto the nothingness of scorn and noise,Into the living sea of waking dreams,Where there is neither sense of life or joys,But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems;Even the dearest that I loved the bestAre strange—nay, rather, stranger than the rest.I long for scenes where man hath never trodA place where woman never smiled or weptThere to abide with my Creator, God,And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,Untroubling and untroubled where I lieThe grass below—above the vaulted sky.
It’s a rather sad one actually, but i read it as a poem about hope. About the dream of hope, anyway. And this need to be away - from what is known because at this point what is known is horrible and the only happiness the imagination can come up with, is to be as far from it as possible and alone. and that is very much where felicity starts out with. With her hope not being about peace, but an isolation in stillness because that is the only good place she can imagine.
8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?
It did. I’ve been depressed and strugling with horrendous issues of self worth and anxiety since i was about 14. And i never knew. It literally took me turning 28 to realize what the fuck was wrong. And its depressing (lol) because its just so much fucking time that i wasted, you know. And i remember - like, when i was deep in my depression - i used to think all the time ‘I must have been a real life person once. Like, an actual person, with a personality, and likes and dislikes and feelings - but i dont remember her. I dont know who that girl even is, i woudlnt regognise her at all.’ It felt like some part of me had died. Like there was literal murder involved. Cause so little of me survived.
but it turns out, i have been this way - just less intensely (and in some cases a lot MORE intensely) since i hit puberty. i didnt die - i just got worse and did not deal with it at all.
9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?
not really. not yet, anyway.
10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?
im actually not sure that i do want oliver-felicity for this sotry. the dynamic between felicity and tommy is also very veyr interesting. and i dont really know where i will take them. especially in the first and second story, their connection is intense. but this is also part of teh slowburn - oliver and felicity, however it happens, its gonna be slow.
11: What do you like best about this fic?
how personal it is to me, and my experience. and the fact that, if i write it well, i might actually be sayin something.
12: What do you like least about this fic?
THE FACT THAT I HAVENT WRITTEN IT YET T_T
13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn't listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?
PHEW I have whole playlists i built as i was ordering this whole series. with songs that fit the mood, the direction of the storytelling and all.
14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?
I genuinely want people to see this as a story about healing.
15: What did you learn from writing this fic?
i havent written all of it yet - but i did learn something very interesting about myself. that i have been putting my trauma into narratives to deal with it looong since i knew that was a thing, or i was even aware that i was doing it.
and on that depressing note, i will end this post and start a new one for the other stories lmao
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Sunburn (Modern! Hockey! AU) - Albert Dasilva x Reader
Part 1
Oh my gaWD!!! I read this post and I totally got inspired by it, so I just had to write it out! As a self-proclaimed hockey freak and lover of Albert Dasilva, I just couldn’t resist ;)
https://graylier.tumblr.com/post/178226887046/so-i-read-something-about-hockey-player-albert-and
Warnings: Some language and like, one innuendo?
—
Albert’s skates flew effortlessly on the ice beneath him, quickly changing directions when the small rubber puck would skid away. He breathed in the cold, damp smell of sweat and blood, relishing in the sound of hockey sticks colliding with the ice, grunts and yells of his fellow teammates, and the swift sound of his skates on the rink. Adrenaline pulsed through his body as he skated through the players, slamming one in the glass before skating off again. This was Heaven for him.
He came to an abrupt stop as his coach called the practice game to an end. He pulled off his helmet and shook his head a bit, his red locks getting even more messed up than before, when he was joined by two of his fellow teammates.
“Nice work out there today, Dasilva,” said Jack with a grin. “You’s definitely one of my strongest players out there.” Jack Kelly was the team captain for Albert’s high school hockey team, and he had the most experience out of anyone on the there. A compliment from him was a big deal.
“Thanks, Kelly.” Albert replied with a confident smile. Race skated up too and nodded, affectionately ruffling Albert’s hair.
“Damn right he’s one of the best,” Race exclaimed. “You seen him play against Queens last week? He had em’ shakin’ in their skates!”
“Yeah, just like you had me shakin’ the other ni-”
“Dammit Romeo, why’d you have ta come in and make it weird-”
“It’s not like you’re any better-!”
The boys continued to banter as they made their way to the locker room with a chuckling Albert and Jack behind them.
-
When they were done changing, Albert hoisted his hockey bag on his shoulder and walked out with Race, only half-paying attention to the story he was telling about some outdoor hockey scuffle he had gotten into.
“This guy was a real bruiser too, you knows how them Brooklyn boys are. He had been messin’ with Jo Jo the entire game, so I shoved him right into the bench! Man, you should’a been there! The look on his face was- hey, are you paying attention?”
The answer was no. Albert was not paying attention. Not to Racetrack, anyway. His eyes were glued on a (H/C) haired girl walking happily with Katherine holding what seemed to be posters to hang up around the stands. She was smiling widely at something Katherine was saying, and Albert nearly lost his breath when she flipped her hair to the other side of her head. Race’s eyes slowly followed to where Albert’s were trained, and then a slow smirk spread across his face.
“I see you’re admiring (Y/N) again, Al.” He said cheekily. Albert flushed pink and ran a hand through his hair, clearly embarrassed by the comment.
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout Racer, she’s just my friend. Nothin’ else.” Race raised an eyebrow and glanced back at the pretty girl who was now hanging a banner on the entry of the rink.
“No ‘friend’ makes Albert Dasilva as flustered as ya are now, Al.” He chided in a sing-song voice. Albert rolled his eyes and pushed Race’s head while Race cackled and tried to swat his hand away.
“If that’s right,” Race started, “Then you wouldn’t mind if I just called her over-”
“Wait-”
“HEY (Y/N)!” Albert groaned and whipped his head around to where she was standing, his heart skipping a beat when she looked over and beamed, briefly making eye contact with Albert and... did her cheeks turn a little pink? No, Albert decided. She was farther away than he was, it must’ve been a trick of the light.
“Hey, fellas!” She called happily, carefully stepping down from her stool and walking over. “How was practice today?”
“Oh, you know, it was a total breeze.” Race said with a grin. “Right, Albert?” Race nudged Albert’s side and he nodded, trying to pull himself together enough to attempt a verbal response.
“Ahem- yeah, totally. Complete lightwork.” He coughed out, managing a smile. She must’ve thought he was a total moron. They’ve known each other since freshman year, hung out multiple times with friends, goofed off together in class, and yet here Albert was; a complete, blubbering idiot.
(Y/N) quirked her eyebrow suspiciously. “If it was so easy,” She countered, looking specifically at Albert, “Then why’re ya cheeks so red? Looks like a hard day of practice for you boys to me.”
“Nah, that’s just Albert.” Race said with a wink. Albert shot him a look and turned to (Y/N), who had an amused look on her face.
“I, uh… erm.. sunburned.” Albert stuttered, trying to ignore Race’s look of utter disgust at his pitiful excuse out of the corner of his eye.
“I keep tellin’ ya, Al.” Race taunted. “You gotta put that SPF shit on every day, you sweet little ginger snap, you.”
“Why don’t you’s go wait in the car?” Albert said with a pointed look at Race, and (Y/N) giggled. She loved how Albert and Race bantered with each other. It was rather cute how Albert would keep Race in check, considering it was always the opposite when they were on the ice.
“Fine. Fine. I can tell when I’m not wanted. I’m just sayin’, body’s a temple.” Race said dramatically while walking away towards the car. Though, not before giving Albert a wink and making a heart with his hands behind (Y/N)’s back as he walked away. That little-
“You guys are absolutely ridiculous.” (Y/N) interrupted Albert’s thoughts, and he realized he probably was scowling in Race’s direction. Quickly fixing his face, he scratched the back of his head and unconsciously stepped closer to her.
“Yeah, so I’ve been told.” He grinned. (Y/N) tilted her head up a bit to meet Albert’s eyes, and he couldn’t help but get lost in them. God, everything about her was so beautiful, and her hair. The smell itself was intoxicating. He realized that they had been staring for a little too long and glanced down, cheeks pink again. How the hell could she make him like this?
“So, you’re gonna be playing in the game next Friday, right?” She asked hopefully. She was blissfully aware of how flustered she was making Albert at the moment - not that it was hard - and how cute it was to see him like that. She nearly died right there and then when he bit his lip and looked back at her again, nodding his head.
“Yeah, I’ll be out there almost all night.” He said. “Will, uh, will you be there?”
“Yup, I sure will. I gotta go to the games anyways for ASB, but I um,” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Damn her nerves. “I’d go watch you play anyways, even if I wasn’t getting graded on it.”
Albert’s eyes widened and his heart quickened. She didn’t say ‘them,’ as in the team. She said ‘you,’ as in him, Albert Dasilva. Oh god. He had to say something, anything to make her realize how much he loved that. Should he say something flirty back? Confess? Ask her out on a date? Propose?
“Oh.”
Albert mentally facepalmed. What the hell was that? Nice goin’ genius, now she probably thinks he’s even more of an idiot than originally thought. As his cheeks flushed an even deeper red, (Y/N) smirked and stepped closer, raising a hand to his cheek.
“Damn, Dasilva,” She said, gently rubbing her thumb across his cheek. “Your sunburn is gettin’ worse by the second.”
Albert’s heart was pounding against his chest as he maintained eye contact with (Y/N). Her palms were soft against his cheek, and the gentle but mischievous smile playing on her lips didn’t just make his heart flutter, but also made him think that maybe he did have a chance (she was holding his face, after all). Maybe this was a chance to redeem himself from that horrendous sunburn excuse, or the dimwit response he gave when she complimented him. If he could just gather the courage to grab her hand, lean forward a bit more-
“Hey, (Y/N)! I could really use your help over here!” Katherine’s strained voice cut in on tension between the two. Albert looked over (Y/N)’s shoulder as (Y/N) took her hand off his face and turned around. Katherine was about to fall off the ladder she was standing on in an attempt to pin the banner up. Before he could offer to help her out, (Y/N)’s eyes widened and she looked back at Albert.
“Shit- I gotta go help her with that, I’ll see you tomorrow, Albert!” (Y/N) said and quickly sprinted away. Albert watched her run off and stood there, looking stunned and mildly disappointed before snapping out of it and walking outside to his car, where Race happened to be waiting (im)patiently. He threw his bag in the trunk and slammed it shut, then plopped himself in the driver’s seat and put his head on the wheel.
“Went that well, huh?” Race said with a raised eyebrow. Leaning closer, he said, “Hey, at least your sunburn’s lookin’ a lot better. What, you got some aloe in your pocket or somethin’?” Albert groaned miserably and Race rolled his eyes. “Do I wanna know what happened?” He asked.
“Depends on how well you can handle what an idiot I am.” Albert replied, head still on the steering wheel of his car.
“Try me.”
Albert explained to Race what happened and wasn’t surprised when Race yelled, “‘Oh’? That’s all you had to say to that? ‘Oh’? Are you outta’ your mind?’
“I wasn’t thinkin’ properly, Race! It’s not my fault, I completely lose my wit around her. My confidence completely goes down the drain; she probably is wonderin’ why everyone says I’m so cocky all the time.”
Race sighed. “Just stop beatin’ ‘round the bush and ask her out already. This is painful.”
Albert rolled his eyes and started the car. “She probably doesn’t even like me like that anyways, Race. She’s probably just bein’ nice.”
“Oh, so we’re back at you denying this entire situation again?” Race said exasperatedly.
“What situation?”
“Shut up.”
#newsies#newsies imagine#albert dasilva#albert dasilva x reader#albert dasilva imagine#modern!AU#hockey!AU#hockey
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Tomorrow Never Came PT. 4
You have one job - travel decades into the past and save your mother from a horrible future. You can’t fail or you’ll have to start over again completely, and you have to act on your own. Already having broken rule number two, a new revelation forces you to reflect on how much impact you’ll truly have, not just on your mother’s life, but on other’s as well.
Read PT. 1 here | Read PT. 2 here | Read PT. 3 here
(a/n: i wish i could have put more deacon in this ksdkfjsd i love him but it felt forced if i put too much in there. anyways big things happening here hehe ok not huge but still wild. im gonna go to a basketball game now pray that the nacho cheese is good bc im craving a walking taco)
“So you were just working and you heard this loud boom? That’s terrible!” Brian exclaimed, leaning forward from between you and John. His abnormally long legs were spread out, leaving you scarcely any room to sit comfortably as the six of you chatted away.
“Yes, it was quite terrifying, really,” Mary practically gushed, leaning over Freddie’s lap as they lounged on the floor together, Freddie’s back against the side of the chair Roger was casually seated in. “There were hundreds of us in there, I’d never learned any protocol on how to handle a bomb threat. Closed us down until a few days ago, the back room was in shambles!”
“Who did it?” you questioned, genuinely curious about who would have a beef with Biba in this day and age. That being said, you also knew this day and age almost purely in textbook definitions and whatever the limited scope of your world had to offer you in the last two months – so basically, you only knew 70’s Kensington.
“Wasn’t it the Angry Brigade?” John chimed in, rifling through a magazine lackadaisically as he spoke. “I think I read that they claimed it in IT.”
“What have they got to be so angry about?” you asked, Roger snorting and letting his head fall back against the chair as he rested a leg on Freddie’s shoulder, quickly getting it brushed off. Giving Freddie a sour look, he hooked his legs over the armrest instead, lazing back in the chair and getting extra comfortable as he began to speak.
“I’d be angry if I had horrid taste in clothing too. Imagine wanting to bomb Biba and thinking ‘Wow, I’m really letting those fashionable fuckers have it! Anarchy!’”
Freddie toyed with Mary’s hair as she draped herself over his lap completely. Smiling at the sweet gesture, you hugged your knees to your chest and rested your chin on your right knee, looking down at the couch in front of you and tugging on a frayed fabric.
“Well, at least you’ve got a job again,” Freddie directed at Mary, who nodded and smiled as she leaned into his hand that was running through her hair.
“And you’ve got a place to come pester me besides my flat,” she added, laughing when Freddie retracted his hand and gave her a resentful glance before crossing his arms. “I’m joking, I love when you come see me at work, lovie! Don’t stop playing with my hair, I like it.”
Rolling his eyes playfully, Freddie sighed before going back to running his fingers through her hair. You were observing their conversation all the while, so when they quieted, you looked up and found that Roger had also been watching them. He looked up and met your gaze, pretending to gag himself with his middle finger and making you laugh as you turned away from him.
“What’s so funny? Surely, it’s not Roger.” Brian’s tone held a sort of faux innocence, but he was clearly prying at Roger’s patience – what was new, though? In the handful of times you’d been around this rag tag group of friends for the past two months, they had tested each other’s patience in every way possible. Yet here everyone was, laughing and having a good time with each other over a couple bottles of cheap wine. You regretted that you didn’t get to spend more time with them – you used overtime hours at the café as an excuse, but you knew that it was mainly because you really didn’t want to cry any harder than you already were going to when you had to return to your actual reality.
“I’ll have you know, Brian, I’m a regular comedian!” Roger protested, taking a sip of his wine as he glared over the rim at the curly-haired giant next to you. “Y/N was laughing at me, in fact. Or maybe it was your pants, who knows?”
Brian looked down at his admittedly hideous trousers, a shitty shade of brown that did not compliment his skin tone well at all. On top of that, they were a horrendous pinstripe pattern, and they didn’t match the striped green jumper he had on. “I’d rather accept that than even entertain the notion that you were remotely funny enough to make anyone laugh.”
“Salty today, Brian?” you asked, giving him a gently nudge with your elbow and receiving a nudge in response as he chuckled, crossing his arms.
Suddenly, Roger was giggling gleefully to himself, playing with a kerchief he’d had around his neck as he seemed extremely amused by it. “Brian,” you thought you’d heard him mumble, and you raised an eyebrow as you watched his snickers intensify, making him squeeze his eyes shut for a moment. He was clearly enjoying something, and you were eager to know what was so funny about what you’d just said.
“Rog, what in the hell are you going on about over there?” Brian asked, doing the dirty work for you as you watched expectantly, Roger’s eyes raising to meet the gazes of both of you.
His cheeks reddened a bit and he nervously let his eyes fall back to his kerchief, fiddling with it. “Nothing, I just thought of something funny.”
“Let’s hear it then,” you encouraged, giving him a smile as he chuckled and glanced at you quickly, giving an almost ashamed smile while he tried to decide whether he should say it or not. He felt anxious, like he was under a microscope suddenly, and he knew that the joke he’d said in his head was cringe-worthy at best. But you looked so insistent and so supportive of him that he finally grumbled and dropped the kerchief to his lap.
“I was laughing because I thought you called him Brine.”
The look on your face faltered as you struggled to comprehend what he was saying. “You thought I called him Brian? Isn’t that his name?”
“No!” Roger whined, Brian cocking his head to the side and making Roger groan as he pressed a hand to his forehead. “I mean, yes, that’s his name! But I thought you called him Brine, like salt water brine, and I laughed because it’s salty and so is Brine. I mean, Brian. Damn it! It’s fucking funny, okay?” He quickly shot up out of his seat, stomping towards the kitchen as you watched, still just as confused as ever, but Brian was laughing.
“You ever notice how much faster he moves when he’s wrong?” Brian noted, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he rose from his seat, following Roger into the kitchen as he refused to pass up an opportunity to keep giving him hell. Today, and only today, Brian seemed to have time to keep up with Roger.
Keeping up with Roger any other day? Now that was a chore. As much as you tried to focus on the sole reason you were here in 1970’s London, you couldn’t help but be intrigued by Roger as an individual. He was an enigma, his motives, knowledge, and way with words completely baffling to you. With people like Brian, it was easy. Brian, although reserved, was very much an intellectual when he spoke, and he always had a sort of predictability to him. Sure, he was a wild man when he’d had a few pints, but not like Roger. Roger was a wild man every single day, and it excited you so much that it simultaneously exhausted you.
You were lulled out of your thoughts by the feeling of the couch sinking down next to you again, and you found that Roger was now seated next to you instead, in the midst of an argument with Brian.
“Brian, you’re just upset because you’re so clearly up your own arse that you can’t understand anyone else’s humor! Get a grip, mate.” Watching Roger, you observed as he glared at the taller man, who sunk down into the chair that Roger had been in just moments ago.
“Or you just have an unrefined sense of humor?” Brian suggested, his voice laced with the slightest bit of animosity as he tried and nearly failed to ignore the “up your arse” comment. When Roger rolled his eyes and began mocking him in a high-pitched, feminine voice, Brian scoffed and looked down at Freddie, who’d been watching the exchange quietly. “What a pathetic display. I’m genuinely ashamed God made me a man.”
“Yeah, well I don’t think God’s doing a lot of bragging either!” Roger spit back, fire practically shooting out of Brian’s eyes as his head whipped up so he was staring at Roger.
“You fucking wanker! You’re just showing off and trying to be all funny because Y/N is here,” Brian accused, his usually gentle hazel eyes brimming with hostility. Your eyes widened at the tension that settled between the two of them, a heavy weight in the air as you desperately looked at Freddie for some help. Freddie just shrugged, though, offering no assistance and pretending to ignore the petty argument as he braided a small section of Mary’s hair.
“Um, should I go?” you asked, pointing at the door as you glanced between Brian and Roger. Obviously, this tiff had something to do with you, and while you had no idea how, you figured it was best for you to just let them figure it out. Rising to your feet, you tugged your pajama shorts down before grabbing your glass of wine and padding off to Roger’s room as Roger yelled at Brian once again.
“Now you’ve done it, you big moron. You’ve scared our roommate out of her own room! God, you’re really something, Brian.”
Snickering at the fiery words, you shook your head and entered Roger’s semi-messy room, crossing over to the window and curling up in one of the two beanbags situated next to it. Tucking your legs underneath you, you sipped your wine and stared out at the twilight sky, a creamy semidarkness to the horizon that framed the city’s buildings. You could just see the outlines of the church across the street, which made you scowl as you imagined your mom’s haggard face, her head leaning back against that damned rocking chair, just sitting there motionlessly. “Fucking prick,” you muttered, the fleeting thought of your father and the two men from the church poisoning your thoughts, a bitter reminder of your current purpose.
“Yeah, Brian can be a bit of a headcase, but he’s alright sometimes.” You jumped as you suddenly heard Roger’s voice behind you, and you turned to look at him as he crossed the room and stood opposite of you, leaning against the window frame.. “Definitely a fucking prick, though.”
“Oh,” you breathed out softly, furrowing your eyebrows as you pushed all of your previous thoughts out. “Yeah, he’s mental. Funny guy, though.”
“Don’t say that,” Roger groaned, giving you a small grin before he looked out the window as well. “Fred wants you back out there. Says he’s got an announcement.”
“I suppose I better bless the room with my presence then, huh?” you teased, Roger chuckling and pulling you to your feet before letting you lead the way. As you exited his room, he tried and failed to ignore the way your pajama shorts were riding up, just revealing the curve of your ass beneath it. Catching his tongue between his teeth, he had a brief ‘Lord help me’ moment before it was ended all too soon by your hand reaching down to tug the shorts back into their original place again.
Following you out to the main room again, Roger resumed his spot on the couch next to you as Deacon chatted with Mary politely, quieting down when he realized everyone was there again. Brian shifted uncomfortably in the chair, avoiding looking at you or Roger as he waited for Freddie, who was now in the kitchen, to speak.
“Now that we’ve decided to take the band more seriously, I figured I should start taking myself more serious now too.” Freddie walked out with an envelope of things, pulling out what looked like a passport and handing it to Brian, then pulling out a few sketches and handing them to Deacon, who marveled at the artwork as Brian looked up at Freddie. There was an amused look on his face, and you listened curiously as they spoke while you sipped your wine.
“Mercury? Like our song?”
“Freddie fucking Mercury. Doesn’t that sound delightful?” You choked on your sip of wine, turning beet red as they all glanced at you. This was news. Freddie Bulsara was actually Freddie Mercury, standing right here in front of you, your roommate and closest friend for two months, and you’d had no idea. “Well, if you didn’t like it dear, you could have just said so!” Freddie laughed, handing you a paper towel so you could wipe the wine off of your nose.
You laughed nervously with him, cleaning yourself up as you stared up at him, still floored at this development. “Just went down the wrong pipe,” you replied quietly, in awe at the living legend who’d just handed you a paper towel because you were a moron who didn’t put two and two together for actual months. If that was Freddie Mercury, then this must be Queen. It had to be Queen.
Your suspicions were confirmed as Deacon handed the sketches over to Roger, who ooh’ed and aah’ed at them as he eyed the details. There was the Queen crest, and you felt dizzy as you realized how blind you’d been all this time. You were casually rooming with two rock legends and you thought you’d just been slumming with a few students that had side gigs as musicians.
“Mercury seems like a bit much, but then again, you are a bit much,” Brian taunted, Freddie tossing a pillow at him as he sat back down again, chuckling.
“Well, as some illustrious person once said, ‘You can tell a lot about a man by his name.’”
“You just made that up, didn’t you?” Brian asked, raising an eyebrow at Freddie, who laughed once again.
“Maybe. But I do stand by it, honest!”
It all made sense now. Your mom had been a huge fan of these guys – you, not so much, for you were admittedly out of touch with the 80’s and 70’s. But you very vaguely knew about them, and of course, the two remaining members were still bigshots as far as your country was concerned. John Deacon, the bass player who’d dropped off the face of the Earth in the 90’s, lounging at the end of the couch. Brian May, the guitar legend who’d once played on top of Buckingham, squinting at Freddie’s passport and turning it in his hands. And next to you, ogling at the newly designed logo for his band, Roger fucking Taylor, a legend as far as drumming was concerned and one hell of a singer from what your mom had said.
You’d never asked him about the band or about the name. You really had thought they’d just been playing in pubs for fun, which at this point, they might very well be. And you’d never been around to hear them practicing or talking about the band – you’d been too busy in your own little world of the café and the church that you hadn’t paid any mind to their musical work. Now, you realized that you very well should have.
“You want to have a look?” Roger suddenly asked, grabbing your attention again as he offered you the papers, which you accepted shakily. It felt like your head was spinning as you stared down at the iconic crest, the two lions that framed the crown and letter Q, which was topped by a crab. Two fairy women stared up at the Q from below, and a phoenix stole the show at the top of it all, encompassing the entire work and bringing it all around into one big individual crest.
“Don’t hog it, I want to see,” Brian complained, and Roger rolled his eyes as you took a deep breath and handed it to Brian, who switched you for the passport. There was Freddie, long hair, clean-shaven face. This was not the iconic Freddie photo you knew. You only knew Freddie from the mustache, from the unique voice. This was a young Freddie, an inexperienced Freddie – this was not the same rock legend that your mom adored back in the present.
Oh, God. “I need some air, I’m getting a bit overheated,” you murmured, handing off the passport to Roger, who glanced at you curiously before looking over the document with Deacon. Excusing yourself, you tiptoed back to Roger’s room and opened the window, leaning out as your heart sank in your chest, heavy with the weight of what you knew.
Freddie Mercury was dead long before you’d even been born. AIDs had prematurely ended his life, his career, and that was something that even you knew. A man you considered to be one of your best friends as of currently would be dead in 20 years, and there was nothing you could do about it. You couldn’t stay here for a whole two decades, monitoring Freddie, keeping him out of harm’s way. Who knew how he’d contracted the horrible disease? It could have been anything at any time. And that killed you inside.
On the other hand, you had to watch yourself. This was literally Queen you were talking about here - if you meddled any more than you currently were, who knows what kind of shit could happen to the band? How big of an impact were you going to have here? Anything you say could alter their path irreversibly. If it was bad enough, you’d have to restart your mission completely, setting you back months in your progress already. God, this is some Butterfly Effect-type shit. I miss Brooklyn 99 and not having an existential crisis every time I make a choice.
“Freddie asked me to bring this to you, I figured you’d be in here again.” Roger’s voice once again interrupted your train of thought, and you sighed as you waved listlessly at the floor next to you, leaving your head resting on your other arm in the window frame. “You alright? You’re not gonna keel over on me, are you? ‘Cause I’d prefer if you bit the big one in Freddie’s room.”
“Fuck off,” you laughed weakly, sliding back into the room and dragging yourself onto one of the bean bags as you picked up the refilled wine glass that he’d brought you. When you looked up at him, he shrugged and took a seat across from you, his legs tangled with yours in the small space. “Sorry for being a party pooper. Just have a lot on my mind, and I’m tired.”
“Well, you are working a lot,” Roger remarked, a worried expression crossing his face as he crossed his arms. He was undeniably gorgeous, even in the dark. The streetlights coming in from the window highlighted his face in a way that made his cheekbones seem even more prominent, his jawline sharper than usual, casting an angular shadow on his neck. Light played around in his eyes, making them paler but just as striking as he observed you with a concerned eye. “Maybe you should take some time off, you’ll catch your death if you don’t relax a bit.”
His words were sinfully calming to you, and you beat yourself up inside as you sipped at your wine glass, tearing your eyes away from his irresistible gaze to look out the window at the now-night sky. “No, I need to focus on work,” you murmured, an uneasy look passing over your face as you avoided his piercing gaze, refusing to falter. You had to focus. Your mom’s livelihood was in your hands. “It’s too important.”
“Are you not important too?” he questioned, making your heart race. You couldn’t help yourself – you met his gaze once more, chewing on your lip as the intimidating stare seemed to try and pick you apart, piece by piece. He was worried about you - this meant he was genuinely attached to you, and that terrified you. But you couldn’t help yourself once again - you had to pry.
“I don’t know. Am I?”
PT. 1
PT. 2
PT. 3
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It Was Always You
So this was written by a friend of mine @princesschelliebelle and she asked if I could post it on my blog because hers isn’t IT or Reddie based, and I said of course because I absolutely love it and I think you all will to! Enjoy!
Eddie could only admit it to himself. He was a coward. Sure, he has the capacity to be more than brave when the time called for it. Hell, if that horrendous experience they all had 4 years ago in the sewers wasn't proof enough, he didn't know what was.
They had all stepped up to the plate, and although Eddie was small and more "fragile" than the rest, he had put in more than enough of his fair share of swings and attacks when they damned that thing back to hell where it belonged. Then why was he so afraid to admit such a huge part of him out loud?
He had just turned 17, and all of the losers were as tightly woven as they ever were, all seniors now at Derry High.
They all seemed to know and be comfortable with who they were.
Beverly and Ben have been dating since sophomore year, going strong and sappy, and certainly a shoe-in to be voted "cutest couple" in the yearbook superlatives this year.
Stan is seeing a nice Jewish girl who attends his father’s synagogue for a couple months now, and though he doesn't speak much about her, he seems fairly happy with her so far.
Mike is too busy for a romantic relationship, between school, helping his family on the farm, and a part-time job, no one blames him for not having the energy to hop into the dating scene.
Bill is happily single, and goes on dates with girls fairly often, but doesn't make anything more serious out of them, and seems quite content to keep things that way.
Richie on the other hand, was different.
Towards the tail-end of freshman year, Richie came out to the losers as bisexual. He had stated it as casually and simply as if he were discussing the weather or a school assignment.
All 6 were supportive of course, but had a few questions for him, of which Richie was incredibly comfortable answering.
"When did you know, Rich?" Bev piped up first. Richie didn't skip a beat before replying
"Part of me has always known. But when puberty rolled around, well, mother nature has a big way of letting you know what you're into...and when I say big, I do mean BIG-".
Richie and his suggestive hand gestures were cut short when Stan thumped a pillow in his face, with an accompanying
"Beep Beep, Dumbass."
Everyone cycled through some more questions, like "are you going to come out to anyone else?" and "have you ever kissed a boy before?".
The only one who sat stark silent was Eddie.
His jaw was clamped shut so hard, his teeth began to ache. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his burning face on his kneecaps. Was it hot in here? Does anyone else feel perilously close to passing out?
No, just Eddie?
Richie went on to explain that he was going to live his life authentically, and if he got shit about it from people at school? Fuck it, he already got tons of bullshit from his parents and Bowers and his gang, he is more than used to it.
Eddie felt himself flush all the way up to his ears when Richie spoke again.
He said he never kissed a boy OR girl, and how he wants to kiss someone he can see himself being with, falling in love with.
Eddie released a breath he didn't know he was holding, feeling embarrassingly relieved.
He was also a little surprised at Richie’s oddly romantic statement, which made Eddie's stomach twist in pleasure, despite himself.
Eddie Kaspbrak is gay.
He has known it for as long as he can remember, and he has been denying, suppressing, and suffocating those feelings for almost just as long.
That fateful summer when they were 13, was when he decided to stop lying to himself, albeit keeping it to himself, and himself alone. That was also the summer he realized he had feelings for his best friend in the whole world.
The same one who just happened to admit he was bisexual, with confidence and ease. Something brave that Eddie couldn't bring himself to do.
He hated himself for it.
That horrific day at the Neibolt house, ironically enough, is the day his feelings for Richie were realized.
That evil, fucking clown, leering over him, pinning him down, mocking him, as Eddie cried out in pain and fear, desperately trying to slap the monster with his unbroken arm
Bill and Richie came rushing in, and so did the others in the nick of time. But then, as the clown loomed towards them, claws ripping from his gloves and drool dripping from his rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth, Richie ran to his side.
As Pennywise ominously closed the distance between them, Richie crouched down and forced Eddie's face in his direction.
"Eddie! EDDIE, look at me! LOOK AT ME!" he shouted, keeping Eddie's gaze on him. For all they all knew, they were going to die that day, and Richie's biggest concern was keeping Eddie calm, helping him to be less afraid.
And in those frenzied, panicked moments, Eddie realized that if he was about to go, he was so grateful the last thing he got to see was Richie.
If he died looking at his crazy dark curls, those high cheekbones sprinkled with freckles, those chestnut eyes magnified behind those dorky, thick glasses, and a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest, he figured he had it better than most.
Ever since then, Eddie had it bad.
And god help him, did he have to fall for the most handsy, in your face, crazy person. Every hug, tickle, cheek kiss, tackle, suggestive joke, touch, and flirt was, well...just Richie.
Its how he had been for as long as they all had known each other, which at this point, was a decade at least. He was the quintessential class clown, the "trash mouth", the touchy-grabby, insane goofball who lived to make people laugh, at any cost.
He was this way with all of the losers, it wasn't anything new. Richie couldn't know how it gave Eddie butterflies, how it made his heart stutter, his head go fuzzy...and at times, make his body react in ways he would have to stealthily hide with a pillow, or a jacket, or a book, until Eddie willed it the hell away.
But then again, Richie was more touchy with Eddie than any of the other losers...but that's just because they were closer, right?
Eddie and Richie were walking home from school, the usual ridiculous banter bouncing between them. It was late November, and the air was crisp and a bit biting when the wind blew.
Eddie shuttered at a gust of wind, and turned to his right to see Richie with a large, teasing grin.
"Ahre you chilly, dahling? My, my, where ARE my manners? I can't have my handsome gentleman callah freezing his tits off!" Richie crooned in a god awful southern belle accent.
"Shut up, dick face, Im f-f-fine" Eddie said with a shiver. Richie laughed out loud and shrugged his leather jacket off his shoulders and placed it on Eddie in one swift motion.
"You're gonna freeze stupid, take it back! I appreciate it, but its too cold for you to have no jacket" Eddie said while Richie stomped on some fallen, crunchy leaves.
"Na, Eds, how could I possibly be cold when you keep me so hot and bothered all the time?" Richie replied, swinging an arm around Eddie's shoulder and squeezing him to his side.
Eddie looked down at the pavement to hide his blush and a small grin.
They decided to go to Richie's house. They often alternated, but more often than not, they ended up here. Sonia Kaspbrak was never fond of Richie, and would always make a fuss when he was around too often, so this was typically just easier.
It was a Friday, and it meant they didn't have to bother with homework or worry about how late they stayed up, and they could just have a sleepover, like usual.
As they walked into Richie's room, Eddie found himself softly sighing. He always felt this overwhelming feeling as if he had come home.
Sure, the dirty socks on the floor and the empty soda cans and candy wrappers made his skin crawl, but his room was so comforting in its familiarity. The music posters, the comic books, the bed strewn with his clothes.
Eddie sat down on the edge of his double sized bed. The room smelled like him. It smelt like his warm, spicy cologne, the sweet jolly ranchers that he seemed to have everywhere.
It smelt like fresh air, cigarettes, and something masculine, something that was just him. He felt like he could get high on the scent. And for a moment, Eddie felt like he was losing his damn mind.
Richie waltzed in holding a bag of chips and two bottles of water and jumped on the bed so hard that the springs groaned.
"Jesus, asshole, you aren't a feather, you know!" Eddie laughed and scolded him at the same time. Richie just responded by shoving a handful of chips in his mouth and chewing obnoxiously near Eddie's ear.
Richie certainly had changed in those 4 years since that summer. For one thing, he was tall. Very tall. He sprouted up to 6'2 and was lean, with wirey muscle covering his long, gangly limbs.
His face had matured and lost all that soft innocence of youth, and he had a defined, sharp jawline with cheekbones to match.
Eddie could only wish his changes through the years were as profound.
Eddie was only 5'8 and of average build and weight, very disappointingly ordinary if you asked him. Although he had lost some of the round innocence in his face from childhood, he still had a softness about him, and big round, doe-like eyes.
Eddie often solemnly thought that Richie wouldn't ever consider him in that way, for his plain appearance alone.
Eddie absentmindedly flipped through a random comic he grabbed from Richie’s desk, while Richie appeared to be watching some dopey teenage drama on his small, grainy TV.
The 2 main characters, after enduring sexual tension you could cut with a knife, finally kissed in dramatic fashion.
Richie tossed a potato chip at the screen and scoffed as it bounced to the floor.
"You'd think with me playing for both teams Id have someone by now. After all, I am irresistible" Richie said as he stretched out his legs across Eddies.
Eddie snorted back a laugh and said "Rich, as 'irresistible' as you might be, you actually have to put in an effort. I don't think I've ever seen you on a date, or kiss anyone...". As Eddie trailed off, Richie bit his lip, looking thoughtful.
Eddie could almost feel the shift in the room. For once, Richie was actually being serious. A few moments of silence passed before Richie asked
"have you ever been on a date or kissed anyone, Eds?"
Eddie shifted uncomfortably before telling what was actually the truth.
"Yes, I have actually. I have been on 4 dates, and I kissed each of those girls. It didn't work out, but hey, that's my luck."
And the funny thing was, that wasn't a lie.
Eddie did go on those dates and kiss those girls, but it was his last pathetic efforts to try to be straight. To stop thinking about Richie like that. But at the end of every awkward kiss, he felt weird and detached. It felt like a poorly rehearsed chore.
After the last girl in junior year, he decided to stop this pointless endeavour.
Richie cast his eyes down and shook his head before he spoke
"I’ve actually never kissed anyone at all...I’m 17 and I have never done it..." Richie had said it so quietly, it was almost a whisper. Eddie had so much nervous energy coursing through him he felt like he might jump out of his skin. Suddenly, Eddie felt a surge of courage, something in his gut that said 'now or never'.
"I’m gay, Rich" Eddie murmured, fidgeting with a loose thread on Richie’s shirt.
He felt as though his whole body had pins and needles, and he felt his chest tighten with anxiety.
Eddie tried to laugh off the serious admission by following it with,
"And hey, don't feel like you're missing out too much. Kissing isn't all its made out to be. I never felt any fireworks, and those poor girls probably thought they were kissing a dead fish". He half-heartedly chuckled.
He couldn't meet Richie’s gaze. The unusual silence made Eddie want to scream. You could hear a pin drop.
The one-time "trashmouth" Tozier had nothing to say, and it was killing Eddie with every moment that passed.
Suddenly, Eddie felt sick. A wave of nausea, sadness, pent-up emotion that felt like a sucker punch to the gut. He also felt like a fool. He told his best friend, the only person he has ever told, that he was gay, and all he could do was sit there and stare.
When a man of many words suddenly is at a loss for them, Eddie could only assume the worst. Tears pricked at his eyes and stung. One lonely tear trickled down his hot cheek. Richie finally spoke.
"I never kissed anybody because I never found anyone available who I felt a special connection with. Someone to be vulnerable with. Someone who understands me." He paused, and then continued
"And I think that you're wrong." Eddie sniffled pathetically and looked up at Richie at last.
Richie’s cheeks were blazing red, and he looked so beautiful.
"What was I wrong about, Rich?" Eddie asked as Richie shifted closer on the bed.
"Well, I may not have kissed anyone, but I think it is worth the hype, Eds." Richie said quietly, as his eyes dropped to Eddies soft, parted lips. Eddie felt his heart start to race, as he dared himself to say
"Well, how can you prove that?"
Richie’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he let out a shuttering breath. Eddie felt paralyzed to his spot on the bed.
Before Eddie could have another thought, Richie leaned forward and pressed his lips to Eddies. Eddie didn't have the vocabulary to explain how good it felt.
It was a brief kiss, close-mouthed, and soft, 4 or 5 seconds at most. But in all of his life, he hadn't felt anything like he had in those brief moments.
A spark isn't enough to explain it. It was a like an electrical circuit was finally connected, completed, and a powerful and euphoric energy passed back and forth between them. It took his breath away.
Richie pulled away and laid his head back on the pillow. Richie’s heart was beating so fast that he was shaking ever so slightly. Richie said, in a shaky voice
"Well....at least for me, I think I proved my poi-"
But he was cut off by Eddie's lips on his once more. But this time, Eddie wasn't holding back. He had wanted this for so long, that he had not one more ounce of restraint.
He kissed him firmly, over and over, leaning his chest against his, barely allowing either of them to breathe.
He had a taste, and now he was addicted.
He moved his mouth down Richie’s jaw and kissed underneath it and all down his neck. Richie moaned softly, and Eddie felt himself grow hard at the sound.
Suddenly, Richie flipped Eddie over and crawled between his legs, one knee on either side of his leg. He leaned down and ran his tongue along the edge of Eddies lower lip. Eddie had to suppress a shiver as he opened his mouth to give him access.
Eddie could hardly believe that Richie had never done this before. His kisses were soft but passionate, wet but not sloppy, and it drove Eddie absolutely fucking wild.
Apparently, Eddie wasn't the only one being driven crazy though. Richie came closer and pushed his body against his, and Eddie could immediately feel how hard Richie was against his thigh.
It made Eddie moan out loud. Heat coiled tight in his stomach, and he felt almost drunk. He reached up a wove his fingers in his thick curls, and gently tugged.
Richie sat up and pulled Eddie with him so he was seated on his lap, and then roughly ran his fingertips up and down his back.
Somewhere, in a teeny tiny part of his mind, Eddie thought 'This is amazing, but its new. Slow down'.
To say this was like a drug would be an understatement, but he knew they had to stop, for the moment anyway.
After what felt like an eternity of arguing with his better sense, Eddie pulled away. Richie adorably whimpered at the loss of contact. It took all of Eddie's strength to put this moment on pause, but he had something to say, before they got carried away.
They sat there catching their breath, before they were consumed with a fit of giggles. They couldn't explain why or contain it, but they kept laughing until their sides hurt.
Once he regained composure, Eddie began to speak.
"After the worlds best make-out session and the biggest confession I’ve ever made, I’m having trouble processing my thoughts. So please forgive me if this is a crazy ramble, ok?" Richie leaned against the headboard and nodded.
"Dude, you are loud, crude, a total and complete slob, and you have no concept of personal space. You tell the most stupid jokes and at least half of your accents are crap, and you drive the other losers insane like you have a quota to meet."
Richie furrowed his brow, looking almost embarrassed. Eddie continued before Richie could speak,
"But...one thing remains consistent. When I’m with you, I feel like I can overcome anything, like I can conquer the world. You don't make my weaknesses feel like a flaw, just another piece of me. No one I've ever known cares more, protects more, or makes me laugh the way that you do. At the end of the day, you have so much love to give. How could I not fall for you?"
Eddie gulped and stared at the pattern on the bedspread.
"You don't have to feel the same way, Rich...I get it, I really do. I mean, you've waited this long to find that special person...and I’m just me. We can pretend this never happened, if you want. I just want you to be happy...."
Eddie was frantic, tears blurring his vision. Richie sat up, leaning forward quickly, grabbing Eddie's hands in his enormous ones, and spoke.
"Hey dipshit, its always been you."
Eddie whipped his head back up, and looked at him incredulously.
"But...but..." Eddie began, but Richie piped up again,
"I never thought you were an option available to me. And god fucking knows its difficult to be with someone else when everything you want is around you almost every single day. It has always been you, it will always be you, Spaghetti." Richie smirked broadly at him, and Eddie lunged forward and squeezed him so hard to him that Richie let out a little squeak. Eddie leaned in to whisper in his ear
"Don't call me that. Way to taint the best moment of my life, fuckface"
Eddie began to laugh at the familiar joking between them. From now on, so many things wouldn't be the same. It was a kind of scary feeling. Richie cupped Eddie's face and gently kissed his forehead, sighing happily.
Eddies heart swelled inside his ribcage, and Eddie found himself thinking that he actually hoped nothing would ever be the same again.
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Can I ask for a Dan/Louise prompt? Just because I love their friendship to be honest and I'd love to read more of them interacting
I was really, really scared for a second that you were asking me for a Dan/Louise romantic thing and I was like.... hell nah, but no I totally agree that their friendship is EVERYTHING. So here you go, this was a pleasure.
Got a prompt for me? Click here! (Please be aware that due to an abundance of prompts, your prompt may take a few days to complete - but thank you all for submitting so far!)
To: LouiseFrom: Dan00:34amo god louy am i such a twathelp me
To: DanFrom: Louise00:36am????What have you done now
To: DanFrom: Louise00:42am??????????????
To: LouiseFrom: Dan00:45amsrry... am quite drunk
To: DanFrom: Louise:00:47amDan, whatever it is im sureit’s not that bad
To: DanFrom: Louise00:50amWe are masters at embarrassingourselves, but we are alsomasters at laughing it off and getting through it somehow
To: DanFrom Louise00:51amThat’s what I’m here for. I’myour support for these situationsJust tell me what happened andwe’ll think of a way to fix it xx
Louise stares down at her phone, confused as it starts to buzz in her hands. She realises, belatedly, that it’s ringing, and sighs, flipping on her bedside light as she prepares to talk down a tipsy friend from what is sure to be a great overreaction to something trivial.
She swipes the ‘answer’ button, and brings the phone to her ear. She opens her mouth to say hello, but a yawn interrupts her.
“Sorry, Dan, just in bed, what’s-”
“I kissed Phil.”
*
It’s 8am on a Thursday, and Louise is sat in a London café. As she sips her cappuccino, she looks around herself at the bustling atmosphere, still a little awestruck that she’s even here.
Normally, at this time on a weekday, Louise is sat in her car, crawling along at the pace of a snail as the train of exhausted parents trundle past the entrance to the local school. Darcy keeps her entertained on these mornings of course, her bright, sweet attitude livening up any morning.
Today, Darcy is getting dropped off by her Dad, after a lot of secret parental bargaining over the phone very late last night.
At 6am, Louise dropped Darcy round to her Dad’s, lunchbox in tow, and then headed straight for the station. She caught the first train to London, texting Dan reassurances the whole way, just as she’s been doing all night.
Now, she’s sat at a table in a Costa Coffee where Dan had told her to wait. She’s bought Dan his favourite coffee - a caramel macchiato - and a bakewell tart, as it’s unlikely he will have eaten a damn thing since last night, and he’ll be hungover as hell.
It’s not exactly a typical morning.
Just then, Dan pushes the glass door open, eyes frantically scanning the crowded coffee shop. Louise lifts her hand and waves, catching his eye, and she watches the tension drain from his shoulders.
He pushes through the maze of tables towards her, and Louise stands, opening her arms for a hug. He practically lunges at her, squeezing tightly, his face buried in her hair. He still smells of vodka, and stale beer, and general unkemptness, but Louise holds him tight, not letting go until Dan shifts in her grip.
He flops down into the seat opposite her, and she sits back down, surveying him worriedly. He looks terrible, in all honesty. Dan Howell is a pretty boy, there’s no point in denying something so obvious. He must know that not all of his subscribers are watching him for his premium content. He’s got that typical sweet, British boy thing going on - tall, with dimples and warm chocolate eyes.
But this morning, he does not look his best. Not that it’s all that surprising. According to their text and phone conversations, Dan has not slept at all. He left whatever party he’d been at initially, and he’s been wandering around the streets of London all night long, refusing to go home no matter how much Louise told him off.
His head droops forwards, obviously exhausted, and he notices the glass mug of coffee in front of him, his darkly circled eyes lighting up for a second.
“Is that for me?” Dan asks - even his voice sounds like a husk of itself.
Louise nods, offering a smile, and Dan practically snatches the drink up, glugging about half of it one go.
“Have you not drunk anything?” Louise asks, her voice adopting a motherly quality.
Dan shakes his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Does alcohol count?”
“No.”
Dan chuckles, darkly. “Then no. Not since...” He trails off, shaking his head. “I don’t know. About six in the evening yesterday?”
Louise pushes the Bakewell Tart at him. “Does that go for eating as well?”
Dan groans, shoving the cake into his mouth. As crumbs fall from his lips, his eyes meet Louise’s, screaming their thanks at her. She sighs, shaking her head in pity.
“Oh, Dan.” She sighs. “You ninny.”
Dan swallows his mouthful, leaning back in his chair. He scrubs a hand over his face, looking miserable. “Don’t. I know. Trust me, I know I’ve fucked up. You can’t possibly think worse of me than I do.”
Louise frowns, reaching a hand across the table. Dan stares at it for a moment, uncomprehending, then his brain seems to click into place, and he puts his own hand on top of hers.
“Dan, I don’t think badly of you.” She says kindly, trying to maintain a gentle tone, as it’s so obviously what Dan needs right now. “I don’t think you’ve fucked up horrendously, I don’t even think you did anything wrong.”
“Lou, I kissed him.” Dan tells her, his voice dropping to a low level, as if he’s afraid someone might overhear. “Like, full on just planted one on him out of nowhere.” Dan shuts his eyes, as if the memory is replaying right in front of him. “The look on his face, Lou...”
“Okay, back up, Dan.” Louise says, squeezing his fingers in her own. “Let’s break this down. What happened?”
Dan sighs, his eyes fluttering open with reluctance. “We were... at a party.”
“Okay...”
“Just like... some friend of a friend,” Dan says vaguely, shrugging his shoulders. “We weren’t even gonna go, but we hadn’t seen that lot for months, so we thought we’d just, like, put in a quick appearance.”
“Right.” Louise says, nodding show she’s following. “But things escalated?”
Dan nods, frowning. He plays with the glacé cherry on the remnants of the tart.
“This guy - the guy whose party it was - he’s really into craft beer.” Dan explains, sounding ashamed. “He works for some specialist beer bar in Shoreditch, and he had all these really fancy, strong bottles of beer...”
Louise nods, sensing where this is headed. “So you got wasted.”
“You know what I’m like when I’m drunk, Lou.”
In truth, Louise has only ever seen Dan drunk on a handful of occasions. She likes to think of she and Dan as good friends, as they talk almost every day via text, and they get on so well whenever they do see each other that it’s almost like the long, vast spaces of time between their in-person meetings aren’t there.
Usually, Louise has experienced drunk-Dan at big, crowded events. VidCon parties, or YouTuber gatherings, or at the rare times she books a babysitter and manages to attend one of Caspar and Joe’s legendary parties. His drunkenness is absorbed into the mess of other people’s shenanigans, and she tends to overlook it.
What she does remember, is that drunk-Dan tends to be a little more... tactile than normal. With everyone, but mostly with one person in particular.
“You mean... you were draping yourself all over Phil?”
Dan blushes, avoiding her eye. “I meant like... I usually get too flirtatious and over-confident.” Louise makes a little ‘oh’ sound, looking away. “But yeah, that too.” Dan confirms.
“I still don’t quite understand...” Louise says, trying to connect the drunk-Dan in her memory to the one that did something as momentous as actually kissing his best friend without warning.
“Well,” Dan sighs, pulling his hand out of Louise’s grasp in order to chew his thumbnail. “I guess it was always gonna happen eventually, right?”
This confuses Louise even more, and her brows knit together, attempting to make sense of such a strange statement. She comes up with nothing.
“Wait, what was always gonna happen?”
Dan stares at her, looking equally confused. “Well... this.”
“You kissing Phil?”
Dan gives her a weird look. “...yeah.” He pauses. “I mean, I hoped I’d be able to suppress the urge forever, but... I kind of knew it was unlikely I’d be able to do that. Especially as alcohol turns me into a sexual deviant.”
Louise sits back in her chair, her mouth falling open. Can Dan be saying what she thinks he’s saying? A shockwave splashes over her, soaking her in pure astonishment.
“Are you telling me you have feelings for Phil?”
Dan laughs, which baffles her. Then he stops, staring at her. “You’re serious?”
Louise shrugs, nodding.
“What the- how could you not have realised that, Louise?!”
“Me?! You’ve never said!”
Dan shoves his face into his hands, groaning. “Oh my God. What did you think was happening all those times I rang you complaining about how hot he was?”
Louise casts her mind back through the many conversations she’s had with Dan about Phil, trying to see how she could have missed this.
“I just thought you were mentioning it generally!” She cries, shrugging. “I tell you how hot Zoe is all the time!”
Dan looks up at the ceiling, barking a laugh. “That’s not the same! I mean- I’ve talked to you about having sex dreams about him for fuck’s sake.”
Again, this does not register as abnormal. “So? I’ve had tons of sex dreams about my friends. I’ve probably had one about you at some point. Same as I’ve probably had one about Darcy’s fifty-year-old music teacher! That does not mean I have feelings for either one of you!”
Dan apparently does not share this point of view, and refuses to let this drop.
“I called you crying about it one time!”
“You’re not the most emotionally stable person, Dan. I just thought-”
“What about when I told you I wear his clothes to feel close to him!?”
“You’re quite possessive over one another in general.” Louise replies, sipping the last of her cappuccino. “Everyone knows you wear each other’s clothes. I didn’t think there was much to it. You’re best friends.”
“Okay, whatever.” Dan says at last, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Somehow you missed the fact that I’m crazily, obsessively in love with my best friend and have been since I was seventeen.”
“You’re...what?”
Louise and Dan hear the voice at the same time, and freeze, their eyes boring into one another. Heck, Louise is not in love with the guy, but even she can recognise Phil’s voice without needing to look.
God knows what Dan is thinking right now.
Slowly, painfully, Dan turns, his face white and sickly. Louise drags her eyes to the space behind Dan, cringing slightly as she takes in the sight of Phil, equally as exhausted, standing just to the side of their table.
His hair is messy, as though he’s been running his hands through it. His eyes are also surrounded by purplish dark circles. He’s not dressed for a cold winter morning, in a shirt and tight black jeans - probably what he wore to the party last night.
“Phil...” Dan says, trailing off at once. “I didn’t... I’m so sorry...”
“I’ve been looking for you all night.” Phil tells him, sounding wrecked. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”
Dan shakes his head, mouth pressed into a tight line. “I couldn’t, Phil. I couldn’t bear it.”
“Bear what?”
“I couldn’t bear to hear you say you don’t...” Dan swallows, looking away. “That you don’t feel like I do. I was wrong to kiss you like that, I know. I just... you looked so... you always look so...”
Louise outright gasps when Phil leans in to kiss Dan. She claps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide in shock as she watches Dan’s eyes widen, then close.
Christ, Louise thinks to herself, she really needs to pay better attention. These two have been crushing on one another this whole time?
Phil draws away after a moment, and his eyes are shining with moisture. “Don’t run away this time, okay?”
Dan sniffs, and a tear falls onto his cheek. He nods readily, seeming transfixed on Phil’s face.
Phil smiles at him, tiredly, and finds his hand. Then, he turns to Louise, still smiling.
“Sorry Lou, it’s really, really good to see you, but I think we need to get home.” Phil tells her apologetically. “Neither of us have slept, and we have... a lot of things to talk about.”
Louise nods, smiling broadly. Her own eyes sting with tears, her heart thumping with joy on their behalf.
“Don’t worry, gorgeous.” Louise tells him, gesturing for him to go. “I’ll see you both soon. Go wrap each other up in blankets.”
Phil nods, pulling Dan to his feet. Dan doesn’t resist. He allows Phil to lead him, like a trained puppy, speechless in the face of the situation.
Phil reaches over to pluck the cherry from Dan’s plate before he goes, and deposits it into his mouth, smiling sheepishly at Louise.
“Thanks for looking after him.” He tells her, and then gives her a small wave, leading Dan towards the exit, their hands still tightly clasped together.
#this got away from me woah#no idea what time period this is meant to be but sure!#fluff#louise x dan#prompts#hope you liked it!#anon#ellen answers
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Text
The Little One || Jughead Jones
word count : 1,136
pairing : Jughead x Reader
warnings : none!
summary : You find a kitten on the way to school and decided to ask Jughead to help you hide it from your horrendous peers and teachers.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
You just couldn’t leave it on the side of the road. What type of person would you be if you let the small kitten alone and probably get hit by something; a horrible one that is. Upon seeing the small gray kitten that couldn’t be more than a couple weeks old, you began to thank your lucky stars that you decided to walk to the school today. The only real issue was where were you going to keep it? Considering your home was to far away to walk it back, and your parents would kill you for being late again, so that was out of the idea pool. You refused to leave it outside any longer in fear that something would hurt it, so the only thing you could think of was keeping it with you the whole day.
It would be hard. It was a well known fact that there were no animals allowed in school, well other than service animals. It would be hard, really hard but it was something you were willing to go through. You also knew you’d need help. You could only think of one person who’d probably even consider helping you : Jughead Jones the third. So he was the first person you went to that morning. You had pulled all your books from your bag and put the kitten in there just to get into the school and then went straight for Jughead’s locker.
Thankfully he was there so you didn’t need to search for him. You slid up next to him, a wide smile on your lips; a smile that just said you needed something big. Jughead took only look at you before sighing and shaking his head. “Whatever it is Y/N, count me out. I finally finished all the detention hours given to me after last month’s plan to take down the maths teacher.” He said as he shut his locker. You just rolled you eyes. “I really need your help Juggie. And that maths teacher had it coming! He couldn’t get away with giving us huge packets of work and not even explaining the concepts to us.” You said, frowning at the thought of the teacher.
You shook the thoughts though, “Please, I really need your help and only you can help!” You said, grabbing his shoulder lightly with a pleading look on your face. Jughead groaned, closing his eyes before nodding slowly. “Fine, at least I’ll have something to remember when I’m old.” He replied back before looking around. “What is it this time? English teacher giving you problems? Science teacher not respecting students?” He asked, raising his eye brows. Setting down your books, you grabbed your back pack from you bag and opened it to show him the small kitten. “What the hell, Y/N! Why is there a kitten in there?!” He hissed, closing the bag with his hands.
“I couldn’t leave him on the side of the road, I just..what if something happened to the baby. Then it would be my fault and I couldn’t live with that so I just picked him up and put him in my bag.” You said frantically, pulling the bag closer to your body. “What are you going to do with it after school?” He asked, lips forming a thin line. “I’m going to keep it. I mean, nobody obviously wanted him, why else would he be out there like that.” You said, tilting your head. He only shook his head but smiled lightly at you. “You’ve got to big of a heart, Y/N.” and at that moment you knew that he would completely help you throughout the whole day.
the morning classes were great, it was only towards the afternoon classes did it get hard. The kitten was getting restless, and even knowing you had let it walk around at lunch time, it still wasn’t out of your bag. It was during your English Lit class did it start meowing; loudly. You stared at Jughead with wide eyes ‘cause there was no way people didn’t hear it. Jughead stared back, trying to think before just opening his mouth and meowing; just like the cat had done. The whole class turned towards him with a baffled look on their faces; the teacher asking if he was okay which he nodded frantically; face bright red. You could only duck your head and laugh softly.
Boy had you gotten an ear full in between those classes because of that. You could only laugh at Jughead, but thanking him greatly. He only huffed at you before briskly walking towards the last class of the day. You were glad, you couldn’t wait to take your kitten home. Luckily the two of you sat in the way back of the room and in decently close seats to each other. You had mindlessly set your bag down, the opening in you bag just large enough to allow the small kitten to get out without you noticing.
Jughead had whipped around when he noticed the cat leaving the room, eyes wide as he stared. “Y/N! the cat!!” He hissed softly, pointing towards the door where you saw the tiniest bit of the cat sneak away. You own eyes widen, you shot out of your seat; effectively disrupting your class. “Y/N? Is everything okay?” The teacher asked, slowly setting the laser pointer down. You nodded, looking around quickly. “Oh, yeah. I just...I just have to go the the bathroom; real bad.” You said, not even waiting for a reply before running from the room.
You couldn’t actually believe the kitten had gotten out and now you couldn’t even find it! You frantically searched the hall but came up with nothing. “Y/N.” Jughead said as he finally was able to also get out of the class. “Oh my god, what am I gonna do! This is all my fault!” you cried out, obviously stressed about losing the kitten. Jughead grabbed your shoulders. “It’s gonna be okay, We’ll look around for it. He couldn’t have gone too far.” Jughead replied back. “Okay, we can do this.” You mumbled before the two of your split up to search for the kitten.
It didn’t take to long before finding it, Jughead returning the kitten to you just as the last bell rang over head. You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you Jughead. I think we should name you Houdini” You giggled out, kissing the kitten on the top of it’s head lightly. “C’mon, Let’s get the two of you out of here. There is no reason we should get caught at the end of the day. We made it this far.” Jughead said, ushering you and the cat towards the exit. From that moment on you knew very well you could always trust Jughead; no matter what.
tag list
i’m no longer adding people for now!
@truesquintern @im-jungshook @bananakid42 @itsfangirlmendes@carlosdequeervil @headjugs @lonewolf-2702 @yummyphoenix39@beligerentbucky @voltronslegs @lovemultifandomgurls @sarah-akhavan @thatcraxygirl15 @hello-iam-sarcasm @casismyguardianangel@ettwrite @riverdalenow @damesela @littlefrenchnuage @cuddlymalfoy@gottalovetheapocalypse @toasti3s @captainsuperfangirl @riarkletraash@thejuggiejones @samiloves2sing @missconverseshoes @carmineofmidgard@toomanyfandoms46 @headjugs @dylanobeminegrantgustin @stilinskis-baby @crazy-ephemeral-dreams
#jughead jones#jughead#riverdale#jughead jones imagine#jughead imagines#riverdale imagines#requests are open
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