now and then

very quick VERY rough very very very self indulgent doodles… i will accept no criticisms on this 🙏

Kidnapped Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt.5

Summary: You feel emotions other than rage and sarcasm oh my god 

A/N: The reason I took a break from this series was because I had no idea where to take it from that cliff hanger, and I felt that character development needed to be done before we dive head first into the plot. This is part of that, but keep in mind it’s not filler like Chapter 2 became. I think it’s funny that this was SUPPOSED TO BE A FUCKING ONE SHOT BUT APPARENTLY FUCKING NOT. I’ll be posting another chapter for this series soon. Also feel free to send me asks about this series. I’ve been getting comments on my ao3 that are a) genius b)hilarious and c)heartwarming. Talk to me. Please! Ask and anon should be open right now let me know if they aren’t!

Masterlist link for previous parts:

Link to this chapter on AO3:

Taglist: @localdepressedvampire​ and one person recieving updates via email

The fresh cold late-autumn air made your lungs sting. And the layers of clothes didn’t help fight the chill you didn’t know you were facing. Has it been that long since you’ve been outside, to see the sun? You stick your arms in your armpits under your outercoat. Well, Heisenberg’s spare trench coat. It was much too big, the cuffs of the sleeves going well past your fingertips and the bottom half an inch from the ground.

You were so used to the fluorescent lighting and the warm dry air of the factory, that your body went into some type of culture shock. It felt like an allergic reaction to the outside world itself. Adjusting to it once you escaped would be hard.

“You’ve clearly become less fit since you started living with me,” Karl says in a matter-of-fact tone. You’d be insulted if you didn’t hear him say weird stuff about the other lords or the occasional brain-washed villager who brought up offerings. One had sewed you a wool and fox-fur dress and brought it up in September, in preparation for the winter. He’d thought it dumb at the time, but it protected you from the November chill better than anything you’ve ever worn.

Did they think you were a woman? Whether they were right or wrong, it didn’t change the fact that it was comfortable, warm, and made you feel better than the clothes you’d been wearing before in the factory or even before. You felt safe.

“Of course, I have, I’ve been sitting on my ass,” you retort.

“Still see that sass is intact.”

“It’s something that’ll never leave me.”

“You’d make a terrible house-spouse.”

“That’s the point,” you sigh hard, and you can see the cold air in front of your face, “I had a whole ass college degree before I came here and got my ass kidnapped.”

Karl whips around and looks at you, tilting his head down to peer at you from above his glasses. “You have a college degree?”

“Why are you surprised? Did you think I was that stupid?” Even if the question is sarcastic and witty, you felt a pang of hurt reverberate in your heart. Did he really think you were that stupid? Apparently so.

“I have two masters. One in aerospace engineering and one in mechanical engineering. Double majored in those fields for my bachelors at Oxford on a full-ride scholarship of robotic engineering.”

His mouth drops open. “And I didn’t know about this because?”

“It never came up.”

He pinches his nose, “you could have been helping me this whole time in the shop, and I let you sit on your ass and play care-taker.”

“More like forced me.” At this point, you’ve stopped walking, and you’d be able to see the manor of Benviento if it weren’t for the fog.

“Besides the point.” He looks stressed. His eyebrows are furrowed, a deep frown is on his face and his whole disposition makes him look genuinely conflicted and upset. “Let’s just go.” He gestures for you to follow him and stomps up the path.

You follow him, trying not to slip in the mud. Converse doesn’t have great traction, you realized. Maybe you should have worn hiking boots. “Listen, dirty Dr. Doofenschmirtz-“

“I don’t want to listen to your dumb nick-names right now.”

You stop again, and your fists ball up at your side around the fabric of the sleeves of his coat. Your coat. The coat you’re wearing.

“Why the hell are you so mad at me!” It’s not a question. It’s an exclamation of emotion. For some reason, it hurts. Even if you despised him, hated him with all your being, having someone love you unconditionally felt nice. He was toxic at best, sociopathic at worst, and yet he loved you so strongly it tore the both of you so part. To feel that admiration has gone missing, even if for a second, sent you reeling. You can’t explain why you softened towards him.

“I’m not.” He keeps walking before he realized you stopped. He turned around to look at you. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just…” He looks for the words. He’d never been good at expressing himself, you realized. Better through actions than words. But you didn’t want him to act on whatever he was feeling.

You wait in silence, eye-watering, trying not to cry.

He sees and rushes over to you. His left arm wraps around you and his right hand gently grabs your chin, his index finger underneath to lift your chin up to look at him. “Don’t cry, you know I hate it when you cry.”

You struggle to take a deep breath, choke on it, and the world feels so much more dangerous. A million malicious eyes gazing into your soul, whispers of panic fill your brain, and flashing thoughts of running right now, of hurting him or you flash through like lightning in a foggy storm. Every damn thing feels hazy and thick and you’re choking on the lump in your throat. “I don’t want to. I don’t want you to be mad at me, I don’t want-“

“Take a deep goddamn breath.” You feel his tobacco-scented breath on your face. You can see panic flash through his eyes for a moment. You hate the smell, and it suffocates you even more. “You need to breath.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat, and your breath shakes like a wasp nest about to fall from the highest branch. “Why are you mad at me?” This time you genuinely ask. You don’t want a reason, but rather a reassurance that he isn’t at all.

His lips form into a snarl that doesn’t come out before he presses them in a tight line. As he thinks. It makes you even more nervous. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at the fact that I had an opportunity that went to waste.”

You look up at him. “Okay.”

He wraps his other arm around you and places his chin on your forehead. “Let me know when you’ve calmed down.”

You rest your forehead on his shoulder and breathe.

In. Out.

In.          Out.

In. OUT.

In… out

In.

Out.

 In.

 … out.

“Do you feel any better?”

You wait a moment. “Yeah, I think so.” You ponder for a moment. “I think I had a lot of pent-up anxiety from everything.”

He stays quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

He places a kiss on the crown of your head, his beard ruffling your hair. “Are you not going to forgive me?”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know yet. It’s…” How do I phrase this? “I worked hard for this anger. This anger to love me, to know I didn’t deserve this, to be kidnapped, to have my head ready to be mounted on a stick.” You continue, “if I stop feeling angry, if I forgive you, I’m afraid I’m losing that. That’s why I tried to escape because I loved myself, I wanted better for myself.”

“Was I… Was I not providing enough for you?” His question strikes you like an arrow.

“I-“ You stumble on you’re thoughts for a moment. “It’s less of you not doing enough, but more of the rough foot we started on.” You sniffle. “When I gave up, I felt like I lost a part of myself, all that I worked for. That degree included. I felt all my efforts, all my struggles that I faced outside this goddamn village had gone to waste. That it wasn’t worth it. That I wasn’t worth it.”

You had promised yourself to keep him at arm’s length, to not give him clues to manipulate you. But you poured your heart out into his. You felt him shake and squeeze you tighter.

“Never. Ever. Feel like you aren’t worth it.” You feel something wet on your scalp. “You deserved better than each challenge that you faced, and each bit of hurt you felt along the way.” It’s his turn to choke on his words. He takes a shaky breath above you, and you can feel his heart pound faster. “You, darling, are worth everything.”

Something small inside you breaks. He’s just as human as you are, you realize. In this desperate attempt to escape, to fuel this hatred that’s worn you down, you’ve villainized a man that’s felt even more pain than you. A broken man, who thinks you’re the glue to put him back together. You shouldn’t feel any obligation to, but you do, because you’ve felt a fraction of the pain he’s felt, that he’s currently feeling, and it’s made your mind and bones ache far after the situation ended.

“And so are you, Karl.”

He unwraps his arms from around you. “Come one butter-cup, let’s go. Ugly-ass-psycho-doll is waiting for you. Says she wants you for a fitting and some tea party with her demented child, Angie.”

“Angie? Who’s she.”

“Well, you’re about to find out.”

My Sweet Love

Dabi x Sweet Reader

Request: Hey!💗Сan I, please, have a girlfriend for Dabi who likes sweets? Candy, cakes, berries, stuff like that. And she always leaves some sweets for Dabi, because she knows that he will come to her apartment, even if she is not at home. And basically she leaves quite a lot of food for him. Thank you💗

warnings: none, just a fluffy story with a bit of angst at the end inspired by the latest manga chapters! Also my apologies for making it a bit angsty, I was in a mood haha

Word Count: 2.8K

There they were again.

The endless amount of sweets stacked upon the kitchen table for the flame-quirked villain.

Why you left so many sweets out for him was beyond his own comprehension. He couldn't even understand why you weren't a human cupcake by now with how many sweets you’d been leaving him lately. He's seen those videos you’ve shown him of 'is it cake?' and sadly watched people stab each other with forks or some other stupid shit. He's warned you before that if you ever approached him with a fork, he would burn you to a crisp. A sigh escaped his soft and wrinkly lips once he noticed there wasn't any real food around for him. The ebony-haired villain approached the pile of sweets for him, carefully picking up the small little note beside it, cringing at the silly nickname he loved but hated at the same time.

'Hey dabeebee! I left you some sweets because you are the sweetest thing in my life! :3 I know you'll probably complain looking for real food, I have hidden all of it outside just for you! If you want soba I left a pot out on the stove for you to use and put some water in it.

I love you so much dabeebee! <3

~(Y/N) : )

"Cheesy little shit..." He mumbled, searching around for some cheap booze. Of course, you had none in your possession, judging by you were only 21 and an innocent cautious adult. He sighed and finally stumbled upon a pack of instant ramen, forgetting the pot for soba on the stove deeming it too much work. He put it in the microwave and heated it up, watching the little plastic cup spin around. He took it out and slurped the noodles in the cup, savoring the flavor in his mouth. The heated food made his whole body slump in relaxation. Working for the league was tiring, and he’d lazily complained multiple times to you about it. He’d groan Shigaraki was being a spoiled little child, and get angry when he was forced to work with Geten. Ever since he came to you after their first battle, he had despised the ice-user.

Winter was when he became the most sensitive. Emotionally.

For whatever reason the villain would come visit you more often in the winter, struggling to concentrate whenever he was with you. It was like his mind was somewhere else, somewhere that made him sad. Hot cocoa always cheered him up in the slightest, something warm to melt the ice slowly starting to grow around his heart. Every time he saw you though, it all melted already, your soft voice and gentle touches taking away his pain. You were too sweet. “Stupid idiot...” He mumbled and finished his little cup of instant ramen. He strolled lazily up the stairs, a blank look on his face as he approached the door to your room. He stopped in front of the door and looked inside, pleased with the sight of you sleeping peacefully, unaware of his presence.

He stared at blankly, not a single thought running through his head as he began to shed his blemished jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Next came his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal more of the scarred flesh everyone always claimed to be disgusting. He easily removed his boots and pants, only left in his boxers. Pulling the covers back slightly, he eased himself into bed beside you, turquoise eyes burning holes into your slumbering form. His hand reached out towards your face, gently caressing it with what little was left of his humanity instead of scarred dead skin. “I hate you.” He whispered, not even bothering to speak the words he knew you already knew. A smile graced your lips feeling his touch, instantly knowing it was your lover due to the warmth radiating off of him.

His unspoken words lingered in the air as he pulled you closer towards him, refusing to let you go.

‘I hate you, because I love you so much.’

——

When you woke up and found Dabi in your bed, you couldn’t help but smile ear to ear seeing your handsome boyfriend snuggled against you. He barely got any good sleep, so you wanted him to sleep as long as he could. He was a light sleeper, like extremely light. He briefly mentioned something in his past always kept him alert and on edge, having problems with insomnia and pain. You weren’t stupid. You knew the aspect of Dabi’s powerful quirk, and how much spreads through his body when he over uses his terrifying flames. Carefully easing yourself out of bed, kissing his head very very softly, you tip-toed down to the kitchen to see if Dabi had eaten any of your little experiments.

They were all sadly still there.

“Damnit! If he doesn’t eat something then I won’t know what to get him for his birthday... it’s in a couple days...” You announced to yourself, sighing heavily. It was true, putting the candy out was to get Dabi to reveal what kind of candy he liked, or flavor of cake, anything to give you the slightest hint on what he would enjoy! That was why you hid the food, you were hoping he would settle and eat what he wanted to. That wasn’t the case. “Tonight I’ll put some cake slices out and label them... maybe then! Maybe then he’ll choose one!” A sweet smile spread across your lips, putting all the candy away and putting all the normal food back. All the while unaware of a pair of ears that had been listening the whole time.

——

Dabi left early that morning, going off to do some villainous work before he approached your house in the middle of the night. It was around at least 2am when he arrived. His body ached, skin burning and smoking. Today had been especially rough, but the cool air that gently blew against his hot skin made him feel better. But the aching in his heart made him feel all the more hot with rage and anger. His memories plagued his mind briefly before he remembered what laid waiting for him at your house. That’s right. It was his birthday in a couple days. And the extremeness of your efforts was to figure out once and for all what his favorite sweet was. He just wasn’t a fan of sweets and preferred spicy foods.

“That idiot. Always such a hassle. Possibly worse than that crusty bastard.” He mumbled to himself, rubbing his scarred up neck gently. He didn’t understand himself how he could love someone who’s blood was probably 100% sugar and had a personality sweeter than that. He found your spare key easily, slipping the key into the lock and letting himself inside. As per usual, there were sweets on the table, cake to be exact. There were 5 different slices laid out, each labeled. He approached the neatly cut slices, bright pink flowery post it notes under them.

Vanilla! :D

Chocolate! :D

Red Velvet! :D

Lemon! :D

Cheesecake! :D

‘Good morning Dabeebee! :3

I’m sure it’s like past 1am or 2 or something, so good morning! I hope your day was okay <3 I missed you! I didn’t hide the food this time because you still found it last time! >:( But please try these cake slices! I made them all myself! I loooooove you! >///<

~(Y/N) :)

The dark haired villain rolled his eyes, sighing heavily as he shrugged off his heavy navy coat. He hung it up lazily so he wouldn’t make a mess or wake you and crossed his arms staring at the slices. His turquoise eyes observed each slice, lips set in a firm line as he thought about the textures and icing. His calloused hands grabbed onto the metal of a fork, hoping it wouldn’t melt at the heat his body was still emitting from his hard “work” of the day. A bite of each would be sure to satisfy you right? He dove the fork into the first slice, chocolate, and carefully placed the spongy sweet into his mouth. He recoiled. ‘It’s too sweet.’

As Dabi continued trying the sweets, the vanilla/yellow cake was probably his favorite, but he still didn’t want a cake. He didn’t really want anything for his birthday. Well, maybe to be dead, but that seemed unrealistic now. He sat down on the couch, mind now becoming hazy and foggy with depressing thoughts. His hands clasped together, blunt nails slowly digging into the top parts of his hands that weren’t scarred. The stables began to burn, almost like the first time they were in. His hands grew shaky, eyes blankly staring at the ground in a horrific daze. He didn’t even notice the way his breathing had turned unstable. The scars increased in heat, even though there were no more flames there to hurt him. His hazy eyes cast upwards and his whole entire world almost shattered.

The villain shot up and punched the TV in front of him as hard as he could, beating the screen senseless, panicking as he tried to rid his brain of the reflection that glared back at him. The mere sight and thought of red flames coming near him made his stomach sick with anxiety and fear, especially in the safety of your home. His eyes began to burn with tears, but sadly his tear ducts burned almost with his sanity a long time ago. His fists became bloody and bruised, body becoming numb to the sound of his name being called loudly. As soon as a hand made contact with his arm, he jerked around and swung at whatever had touched him, fearing the worst. That was when his heart shattered, eyes wide in fear once he realized he had just knocked you down to the floor.

“(Y/N)? Ah, shit.” He quickly kneeled down beside you and raised his shaky hands, scared to even touch you. There was a large mark on the side of your cheek, tears already built up in your eyes. Dabi’s chest heaved in and out heavily, eyes burning hard as blood leaked from under his stapled skin. Choked and held in sobs racked through his body like thunder. It hurt so much, it hurt that he couldn’t cry, it hurt to have a constant reminder of his past, reminders of his failure, and it hurt to know that he was unwanted and incapable of being loved by another human being. People saw him as a monster, a freak with no heart.

“You’ve failed me as a son, it’d been better if you weren’t even born.”

He let out a loud cry for help, even though the words never came from his mouth, the simple scream of pain was enough to convey his silent plea. His heart, his eyes, his skin, his stomach, his head, his chest, his lungs, everything hurt, a pain he couldn’t handle by himself. “FUCK!!” He shouted, blood dripping onto the floor with the crack of his broken voice. His whole body recoiled and flinched once he felt your soft hands gently caressing his scarred forearm. Why weren’t you leaving? Why weren’t you yelling at him? Why didn’t you hit him back? Why did you take his small abuse so quietly just like he did? Why were you just silently comforting him in the smallest way? “(Y/N)-“

“Shh, it’s okay now Dabi.” He flinched at your voice, firm yet soft, unwavering, no fear or disgust present at all. Just a loving tone for your significant other. Your hands gently pushed his forearms away from him, and you pulled him Into a tight hug, head buried into his neck. “There’s no need to cry, or fear anything... I’m here, Dabi... it’s okay... I’ve got you, honey.” His eyes widened at your sugary words, comforting him even though he’d just hit you. He inhaled your scent, shaking hands slowly resting against your back, squeezing you close with blood still dripping from his scarred cheeks. “Shh... there, there sweetheart, I’ve got you, and I’m never going to let you go okay...? I love you, Dabeebee.”

Love.

Such a big word you throw around so carelessly with him. Hearing such words always made him feel warm and happy inside. Something he missed out on, and had never experienced until he met you. Your poor excuse to cheer him up worked only a little, when he mumbled out an insult. “You’re so fuckin’ stupid you know that? I’m honestly shocked you’re still alive and I haven’t incinerated you yet...” His meaningless insults warmed your heart, your Dabi was slowly coming back. You ignored the harsh stinging of your cheek and focused solely on Dabi, and making him feel better. His breathing was slowly calming down, sniffling and wiping the blood that leaked from his abused burnt up tear ducts. “Do you feel better, Dabeebee?”

“What a stupid question to ask.” He mumbled and pulled away, composing himself briefly before he stared at you longingly. His beautiful turquoise eyes linger to your cheek stained red and he felt his heart break all over again. “Fuck, I’m... fuck I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” Now that was a rare sight to see, the Dabi apologizing to you? The man who swore to take out the super human society, the man who taunts heroes and kills, apologizing to you? A lowly civilian with a mediocre quirk not good enough to be recognized by society. “This isn’t like you, Dabi... what’s wrong my love? Does it have something to do with your birthday?” He didn’t reply, turquoise eyes just staring down at the floor with a dull gleam. It answered your question as you continued. “I’m sorry... you should’ve told me.”

“Shut up you sweet-loving psycho. It happens every year... this year’s just especially worse.” The villain lowly mumbled as he embraced you. The house was silent for a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the wind rustling outside and the heater turning back and forth. He finally spoke up after his racing heart had calmed. “...I promise, I’ll tell you everything one day. Now isn’t the right time.” That sent a small pang to your heart, after 2 years of dating and he still didn’t open up to you about his past. But god did you still love him with all of your heart. He slowly pulled his blood soaked face away from you, touching the streaks of irony red that flowed from his patchy purple scars. The next thing you knew his eyes were locked with yours, staring intently as if you were the only thing in the world to him. “Just know I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’ll burn them alive and see them in hell to kick their ass again. You’re... the first person to ever see me this vulnerable. Be lucky.”

You smiled. “That’s my Dabi...” Once your lips locked gently with his, the night faded away. Dabi held you tightly in his arms, not wanting to let you go, not wanting to let you slip through his fingers. His heart was still eating him alive at what he had done to you. He had never loved anyone more than he loved you. No one else would’ve accepted him, stayed with him, appreciated his company, love the way he looked even though he hated himself, and loved him for who he was. You didn’t see the evil in his heart, only the pain and rage that wouldn’t stop surfacing.

He hated doing this to you.

The city was in a panic, all evacuated from the Dangerous parts that villains had raided. Dabi had made sure you were somewhere where no one could hurt you. He’d told you to visit your parents a bit farther in Japan, promising he’d return. Of course your protested with a pout, you always did. He loved that too, always wanting to spend time with him. The inky black drops of dye fell off his naturally red hair stained white. His turquoise eyes burned with rage and excitement as he stared down at the man who’d ruined his life. He thought back to you, how you were witnessing his confession, his pain in the television, learning his identity. It hurt to not be there to comfort you, but he needed to do this. He was just happy he’d told you before he ended everything. To finally have closure in his heart.

His staples burned again, blood slowly falling from his scared skin.

*static*

“Now that you all know the truth...” His eyes locked with the camera. “I love you (Y/N). My Sweet Lover.” A pure loving smile. “Ill see you again.”

*static*

pt. 1

*gif is not mine*  

word  count: 2,097 

please forgive me if this is rough. i been outta the writing game for a minute. enjoy! 

7:30 am.

The obnoxious ring of my alarm disturbs my peaceful sleep. I groan and move the blankets off my legs, stretching my arms to the ceiling. After my morning stretch I walk to my bathroom and turn the water to the hottest it can go before stripping my pajamas off. I quickly step in the shower, welcoming the warmth on my skin. I let out a sigh as I felt all the tension from my restless night glide down the drain. After a good 15 minutes I finally muster the strength to step out and wrap my towel around myself. I finally dry off and go to my closet to pick out an outfit for the day.

My eyes scan the closet before finally landing on a black pinstripe blazer dress with a zipper slit on the thigh, a thick belt around my waist with a chain in the front, and some knee high boots with black beret. After getting dressed I started on my hair and makeup. I went for a natural but full beat with my favorite pair of falsies and put my hair in a simple French braid down my back. I walked out to meet my roommate Carly.

“Good morning sleeping beauty” I says, she acknowledges me with the wave of her hand and walks back to her room as I smile and start making my matcha latte

I boil some water and grab the oat milk from the fridge. After making my latte I settle on some Oreo cereal for breakfast. I glance up and see my roommate exiting her room, looking ready for the day.

“Whatcha got planned for the day?” Carly asks, I shrug and look at her casually

“I might have a meeting to discuss signing with Arista, and making my own album” I comment casually, watching her eyes widen with excitement

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Is David hiding somewhere with his camera?” Carly replies, I shake my head and watch her eyes fill with excited tears

“Baby!!! We have to tell everyone” she exclaims, I shake my head and cross my arms in an X shape

“We will tell them when I finish the meeting, I don’t wanna jinx myself” I whine, she nods understandingly

“Alright I should get going, let me know where you guys are so we can meet up after. You can ONLY tell Erin. I’ll see you later” I say, grabbing my work bag and keys from the counter

After a nerve wracking drive to the office I finally arrived. I take a deep breath and walk into the building where an assistant meets me. We take the elevator to a conference room.

We finally finished the hour long meeting. I brought a friend, who happened to be a lawyer to look over my contract before signing it. I shook their hands and said we would let them know in a few hours. After our meeting my friend and I headed out to get some boba and take a look at the contract. I quietly drank my black milk tea and sent a few texts to my friends.

“Looks pretty good, initial here and here... ok and just put your signature here” She said, I nodded signing and initialing away

They called the label and let them know we had signed the contract. My friend went and dropped off the contract while I headed to David’s. When I opened the door I noticed almost everyone was here, except for Jeff and Scott. I took my shoes off and quietly headed into the house.

“Soo.. what’s the verdict?” Carly asked, everyone looked to me in confusion

“Signed, and I’ll be starting my music journey with Arista today” I yell, my friends jump up in celebration and crowd around me

“We celebrating tonight bitches” Zane exclaims, and at this point who cares that it’s a Monday morning and they’ll most likely forget tonight

“Make sure you guys invite Jeff, and we’ll get Sage so drunk she can tell HIM how horny he makes her” Carly says, prompting David to take out his camera again and makes Carly repeat it

“God I tell Carly ONE time that I would get Jeff crush my head between his biceps and suddenly I’m being crucified for being horny” I retort, earning loud laughs from everyone else

“Tell David what you told me last night, after seeing Jeff’s insta post” Carly commands with a wide smile, I sigh and look right at David so I’m not looking straight into the camera lens

“Allegedly when I was a little litty last night, I was stalking his instagram and I saw the picture of him spraying water on himself in your merch… and allegedly I said that I would let him knock my cervix into my lungs and I would apologize for simply being too weak to handle it” I whispered, but everyone heard me anyways and as if on cue the devil himself walked in through the front door

“Jeff come listen to this” Jason says, showing the footage he recorded of me saying what I just said, I stood there in shock, Jeff quickly turned to me and smirked

“Come here baby” Jeff says, throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me to a bedroom while our friends laughed

“Finally, I’m getting the dick I deserve” I yell, Jeff puts me down gently after we round the corner

“Also Todd told me we’re celebrating for you, what happened?” He asks, I tell him the news and he lifts me up again

Jeff and I had been close from the minute we met, it really felt like I met my platonic soulmate to be completely honest. We’re always jokingly flirting with each other for the vlogs and if I’m not with the girls I’m usually with Jeff. Although, lately he’s been too busy to hang out or workout together, on the contrary he’s always free for David and the rest of our friends but when I want to hang out one on one there’s always something. It felt nice, just being the two of us. But alas, as soon as he finished the hug he waltzed right back to our other friends.

“Yea I’ve been doing good, how about you?” I mumble to myself, walking back to our friends as we talk about what to do until the rest of our friends are free to go out for the night

Natalie, Zane, David, and I decided to go somewhere and film some stuff and have a little photoshoot while we were at it. We took some videos of us fucking around in the parking lot of some mall. Zane decided to provide some commentary for the vlog as Nat and I took pictures.

“Look at these whores, won’t take no fucking pictures with me. I’m SAgE anD i’M a FaMoUS MuSICiAn, FuCK YALl” Zane yells, I hand my phone to Nat and walk over to David’s Tesla, grabbing the small paintball gun in the trunk

“Fuck with me again little bitch” I said, walking up to him and shooting him two times in the leg with the paintball gun, he cussed me out on the floor while the three of us laughed our asses off

“Alright let’s get going so we can collect everyone before we go out... or we could have it at  David’s house so I don’t have to worry about flashing my ass to random people?” I ask, making puppy eyes at  David as he reluctantly give in

“Fine, but you’re helping clean up after” He says, I nod eagerly as the four of us pile into the Tesla

“I’ll let Suzy and Jonah know, everyone else will probably be at the house anyways” Natalie says, quickly typing on her phone  

We arrive at David’s house as the sun is setting and we start getting ready for everything. Toddy and Jeff go on an alcohol run, while the rest of us started setting everything up. Natalie and Zane go to get more solo cups and some extra things. I’m helping David put away some valuable things while everyone makes the house presentable and work on making it Zane and Heath proof, which could be impossible.

“Can I be in control of the music king?” I ask, David rolls his eyes at the horrible nickname and nods I connect to the speaker while pouring shots for everyone with the alcohol we have at the house

After I was done pouring the shots the ones who went to run errands came back and we all huddled in the kitchen. I put the down the bottle and we all hold our glasses up.

“May we all get absolutely plastered, and some of incredibly high. Maybe both? And may Zane stay away from the hospital for one fucking night, amen” I yell, we all cheers and take shots

After smoking with some of our friends I go back in the house and find it absolutely packed with people. David is multitasking with taking disposables and filming an incredibly drunk Zane and Ilya. And above all the talking and yelling I hear the familiar beat.

‘Do it, baby. Stick it, baby. Move it, baby. Lick it, baby...’

I scream and run to the make shift dance floor, my girls behind me as I start grinding on Corinna as she smacks my ass. I’m screaming the words, someone hands me a drink and I slowly start to feel myself get loose. Everyone making a circle around Corinna, and myself. We switch and I fall on the couch while Corinna gives me a lap dance.

“PUSSY SO GOOD HE GOT MY NAME ON IT” We scream, grabbing each other as  Zane somehow finds himself on my lap too

After the song I make my way to the bar with Zane and Heath, my favorite drinking buddies. After getting a lot more alcohol in me than my entire being can tolerate we go back and start dancing. I was swaying to the music, occasionally dancing with our friends when I feel someone grab me.

“What do you think you’re doing? Shaking your ass for everyone to see” the faint linger of that Staten Island accent makes me smile, but it quickly changes to a frown when my brain registers the words he said

“What do you think Jeffreyyy? I’m-” “Zane what the fuck” I turn and see our friends huddled around the bathroom

“Watch out everyone” Natalie says, backing up and taking a running start towards the door and successfully kicks it down

“Zane why didn’t you say anything? We thought you were dead man” Jeff laughs, I walk into the bathroom and laugh at the sight

After a few more hours the strangers have left the house and our friend group is still going strong. I quietly nurse my water that Jeff forced me to have. David taking some disposables of the rare quiet moment.

“Zane.. I bet you won’t try and fight Jeff right now” I slur, my world still spinning from the poison in my body  

“For what?” Zane replies, I smirk and look at Jeff

“Dude I’ll straight up kiss whoever wins” I say, David immediately bringing his vlog camera out and quickly explaining the situation

“Wait I wanna fucking get in on this” Ilya says, the three of them getting up... well Zane and Ilya could barely stand let alone fight Jeff, the most sober one here

The three of them start pushing each other, I’m a little too drunk to really understand what was going on. Before I know it Jeff had them both on the ground and was declared the winner

“Sageee... you gotta kiss Jeff” David teases, shoving the camera in my face as I chuckle

“Oh y’all know I wanna do more than kiss. Come here dumb bitch” I say, turning around on the couch as Jeff stabilizes me and plants a kiss right on my lips as our friends scream and jump around. I pull away and David turns his camera off for the moment.

“Can I pleasee have more shots.. Zane, Ilya get your dumbasses up we’re getting more drunk so David has content” I yell, the two of them immediately getting off the floor and walking with me to the kitchen

“David, come here I have a secret to tell you” I yell, stumbling over to meet him halfway

“Closer, closer..... I’m so fucked up”

For the writing ask (you don’t have to answer all of them since I probably picked too many, sorry!): 1, 2, 7, 8, 10, 19, 20, 26, 30, 31, 32, 36, 38, 39, 40. (Thanks 💜)

I did it, I answered all of them!! (Yes, it took me a couple of days aha.) Thanks for asking anon! 😘

1. Which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely?

Generally speaking I would rather die than rewrite anything ever, and most of the stuff I’ve written I can look back on and be like “nice”. I did recently reread a few bandom fics I wrote and felt mildly horrified by the fact that some of the writing was so spare that the dialogue sections were like reading a screenplay, so I’d have to say those would come the closest. Like I wouldn’t actually ever rewrite them, but were I to write them today they would read very, very differently.

2. Anything that you’d like to write but feel like you’re unable to?

Honestly I read soooo much Hydra Trash Party stuff and would love to vibe with Bucky’s sexual trauma in fic more but I feel like I’d really struggle to write that kind of background given my usual writing style. That’s the kind of super iddy thing I usually do in chatfic, but unfortunately I don’t have anyone to do that with in this fandom, so I’ll just keep whining internally about the lack of HTP Sam/Bucky while doing absolutely nothing to address that glaring lack.

Rest of the answers behind the cut!

7. Your favourite ao3 tag.

I cruise the Bottom Bucky Barnes tag like a 50s kid dragging Main.

8. How slow is a slow burn?

HERE’S THE THING. So if I ship something super hard, like hard enough to write or read fic about it, then I have already interpreted the canon itself as a slow burn because presumably they haven’t kissed yet, and I’m writing or reading fic because I’m ready for the kissing to be happening. I also don’t tend to read a whole lot of long fic. So basically I’m gonna need kissing by at least the 15k mark unless it’s like, masterfully written.

10. Top three favourite fic tropes.

You know, I’m honestly not usually drawn to stuff that’s very traditionally tropey! I don’t write it too often either, usually with fic I’m just a simple gal who wants to look at canon and then figure out a way to get them to acknowledge they want to kiss each other. I do love fake relationships though!

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

“There’s more than one Loki,” Sam is disturbed to tell him. “A bunch more. One of them is a good guy now.” Actually, Strange had described him as ‘moderately helpful and uncomfortably sincere’. “Another one, uh, broke time, and now there are multiple timelines that have created different universes.”

“Got it,” Bucky says, in the tone of someone who in no way has it.

20. Do you work on a single project or many at the same time? How does that work for you?

I usually have a couple of things going at once that I bounce between until I decide that I’m Going To Finish Something, Dammit and force myself to focus on just one. It’s generally fine because I’d rather have too many ideas than none at all, though I’ll sometimes inadvertently cannibalize myself and have to edit out things I’ve used in two different WIPs.

26. What would you describe as OOC?

I’m honestly pretty forgiving about that, having been trained to suspend my disbelief by liking really dark fic hahaha. One weird thing that tends to throw me in not-dark fic is a lack of humor in the dialogue. I tend to like fandoms with pretty funny characters or people, so I like to see their sense of humor reflected in fic. Sam and Bucky in particular are really funny characters in their own ways - gimme the banter, please!!

30. Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn’t.

In so many fandoms I’ve had visions of an OTP epic spanning years and years, and in zero of those fandoms have I ever completed one of those stories.

31. What was the most difficult fic for you to write (but in the end you made it)?

There is a point where every fic feels like the most difficult thing I’ve ever written. Something particularly cute that I do, which I love, is writing very intensely up to the sex scene, and then getting shy about it and wandering away and not working on it again for a little while, despite the fact that usually the whole point of the fic is that I want to get to the sex scene!!!

32. Do you have a word/expression that you always use in your writing?

I’m sure I have plenty of things like that!! I try to edit repetitive things like that out because when I’m reading a lot of a writer’s stuff little phrasing quirks always stand out to my copyeditor brain. That said, I know when I’m doing it and still tend to huffily be like “well that’s the best way to phrase that action!!” so, whatever.

36. How do you come up with fic titles? What’s the one you’re most proud of?

I either have a title from the jump or I’m combing my music library for a lyric snippet I can use like ten minutes before I post the fic. I’m pretty fond of This Is A Song About Fucking in that I committed SO deeply to jacking myself off there; it’s a phrase that Brendon Urie used to say to introduce Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off during the Nothing Rhymes With Circus tour (I had to look that tour name up. Thank GOD I had to look that tour name up) and I used it for a 5SOS group sex fic posted a cool eight years after that tour (which I went to multiple dates of, oh god) ended.

38. “This never happened” fix-it fics or “this happened but” fix-it fics?

Definitely the latter, when a canon makes a lousy choice I’m usually like well here we are, let’s talk about where we go from here. But I don’t really look for anything with the fix-it tag in general, once the canon breaks something I loved I’m usually so moody that I just abandon ship and stop reading fic haha.

39. Wildest AU scenario you have written?

I verrrry rarely write AUs for posting, but have chatficced some truly bonkers nonsense in my time. My old writing partner in bandom and I used to get weird with Brendon/Ryan - the satyr/fairy and fisherman/selkie days were really something.

40. Write a 9-word fic.

I’m too invested in the thing I’ve written 5k words of these week to think of anything new, so here’s a snippet from that instead.

“Come here,” he chokes out, and the helpless hope on Bucky’s face in response nearly undoes him completely. He sits up to meet Bucky halfway, grabs at his shirt the moment he’s within reach and drags him close, Bucky climbing onto the bed all long limbs and graceless need. The kiss is a surprise only in how rough it is, a hard press of lips like Bucky’s greedy to touch Sam any way he can, like this is just another way for them to collide.

Did You Miss Me? (Missy x reader)

Blurb: It has been six years since you last saw her. Six long, lonely years since the Doctor had dropped you off at your apartment without so much as a word of goodbye.

Taglist: @kjaneway1​

It was pitiful weather, the morning the Doctor came knocking. You remembered it precisely because it had been tipping it down outside, droplets splattering against the pavement and branches of the cherry tapping frantically against the window. Catching sight of the dark, heavy clouds blotting out the sky, you hadn’t been able to keep yourself from groaning at the meagre light illuminating the grey London streets. You were mourning the loss of your favourite umbrella (destroyed by the gale-force winds yesterday) and therefore could predict the inevitable destruction to your hair during your commute to work. You’d been considering calling in sick, musing over whether it was worth it as your hands delved into the suds-filled water, when you were interrupted by a loud rapping at the front door. Who on earth would be calling at 7am?

“I’m coming, I’m coming, give me a second,” you grumbled as you rushed from the kitchen, discarding the tea towel to one side. Wrenching the door open (it had become stiff as the wood had swelled with the cold), you were greeted with a dripping Doctor. You half-contemplated closing the door on him then and there.

“May I come in?” He waltzed in, shaking himself like a wet dog in your hallway and you frowned.

“Make yourself at home,” you murmured dryly, grabbing the spare jumper you kept in the coat cupboard just for him. It had been an old fleece of your dad’s, a remnant of the past that you weren’t quite sure you should hold onto. You’d contemplated chucking it out the last time you’d done a spring clean but some small part of you had hoped the Doctor would return. It seemed your hopes had been realised but you weren’t sure if that was a good thing anymore.

Bustling round the kettle, you filled it up for two, grabbing a couple of mugs from the overhead shelf. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had been sat where he was now, at the island table, flipping through a trashy magazine from last April and simultaneously glancing around at the knick-knacks and post-cards up on the walls. He was silent, a permanent frown etched into his skin, but that, you supposed, was his new face. You still weren’t completely used to it. Although, he did suit grey and Scottish; it gave him the gravity that his last regeneration somewhat lacked.

“You’ve changed the place up a bit.” The Doctor noted, fiddling with the doily covering the sugar bowl before moving on and turning over the small figurine, a memento from your life before her. You glanced over worriedly as he hesitated too long over it, before shaking his head and moving onto the next trinket. “A lot more… stuff.”

“Thank you.”

The hiss of the kettle distracted you, and you were thankful for it, for it broke the awkward need for small talk hanging in the air. You poured the bubbling water over the tea bags, stirring gently, before automatically tipping a spoonful of sugar into his mug.

“Here.” You pushed his across the table, before leaning back against the cupboard. Sipping at your tea, you sighed. “Now what do you want, Doctor?”

His bushy eyebrows shot up in response before he chuckled. “Always straight to the point. I’d forgotten how much I missed that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Enough with the dancing around the topic, Doctor. What are you here for? I haven’t seen you in 6 years, not since you dumped me straight back to my apartment.”

He’d saved you, or at least that’s what you had assured yourself. The cheesy warmth you had felt when looking at her; the soft smile barely twitching at her lips as you waltzed around Louis XIV’s ballroom; the adventures she’d dragged you on despite your various protestations; the night under the stars when she… No. How could you forget the days, weeks, maybe even months trapped under her watch? On display in a cage for her to mock your silly human bravery. The destruction that had ravaged your planet, the one place you’d hoped you’d be safe from the Doctor and anyone else who would have been looking for you. The way she’d laughed at the tears streaming down your face as you surrendered yourself to prevent the slaughter of your people.

If it weren’t for the Doctor, you would never have escaped. You would never have reached this safety, no matter how alone you now were.

“She’s asked after you again.”

You laughed bitterly. Of course, she had. What didn’t she understand about the fact that her joyful revelling in your pain meant that you never wanted to see her again? “No.”

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say!” He protested,

“I didn’t have to. I’m not going.”

“Why? What is her obsession with you? And why are you so firmly against seeing her once?”

“Is it not enough that she is a complete and utter psycho? That she massacred millions for sport?” You placed your hands firmly on the countertop, inhaling deeply through your nose. Your voice was low when you spoke again. “Doctor, I don’t care if it’ll help her become a good person. I’m not going. And if that’s all, you know where the door is.”

His eyebrows furrowed, like two great white caterpillars crawling towards each other, and you maintained your hard stare. No matter the face, he’d always managed to tug on your heartstrings and make you change your mind. But not today. This was something you would not budge on.

:.

You weren’t sure what you were doing here, hovering anxiously by the doors. Unwilling to take another step and commit yourself to this. His TARDIS hadn’t changed a day since you last stepped out of it; sure, the company she carried had altered, but, at her very core, you could feel that she was still the same. She hummed at you, an impatient sounding noise and you scowled. You’d forgotten how annoying having a somewhat opinionated ship was when she could read your every thought.

The Doctor had headed on in before you, confirming that you would follow him after collecting your thoughts. The door swung open in front of you, the soft orange glow of the core spilling out. The TARDIS took your breath away every time you stepped into it; your brain had never quite processed the concept of it being bigger on the inside. Circles covered the walls in an ordered pattern, glowing palely and Gallifreyan symbols decorated the console, inscribed onto the concentric rings.

Hesitating, you brushed your fingertips over the TARDIS’ console, feeling the reassuring buzz she sent you. You could see a flicker of purple fabric from where you stood and you made eye contact with him, noting the smug twinkle. Cocky prick.

Heading down the ramp to the lower level to join him – them, each step felt like a chore as if weights had been tied to your legs. You were dreading this, a deep unsettling sensation twisting your guts. The purple jacket came fully into view and you froze.

No.

“I just need to go check on the TARDIS’ engine. The old girl’s been complaining ever since she travelled into the other dimension,” the Doctor spilt out excuses, striding past you with a pat on the back. Forcing you to talk to her. You silently cursed him and sent him your harshest glare.

The familiar Victorian silhouette spun round, eyes following him up the ramp until they fell on you. Her grin faltered. “Well, look who’s turned up. Your punctuality really is shocking, pet.”

You raised a tentative hand in response, crinkling your features into a grimace. “Hey Missy,” Your voice was weak and rough sounding, even to your own ears.

She stalked closer, raising her hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your left ear. Your breath caught in your throat, every nerve burning. The rough wool of her blazer gently scratched your skin, her thumb caressing the top of your cheekbone. Pulling away, she stepped back, the sudden distance feeling like you had been doused in icy water.

“A thousand years,” Missy mused, continuing to circle you slowly. Her poison-red lips pursed, eyes narrowing as she took you in. “You really have let yourself go to waste. What happened to those lovely royal robes? The red was very flattering.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, screwing your eyes shut. Why had you expected anything different? She hadn’t changed one bit.

“I don’t even know why I’m here.” Your voice cracked and you willed your eyes to stop watering, swiping at them. “No. I’m not doing this, this is ridiculous.”

You made to turn, so very sick of her. Every breath felt laboured, a stone pressing down onto your chest, compressing your lungs. You couldn’t bear to look at her, to see her smug joy at bringing you down once again. Her hand snapped round your wrist, yanking you close into her chest.

“Oh, don’t be so sensitive,” she murmured, breath fanning your cheeks. Missy pressed a delicate kiss to the tip of your nose, smirking as she leant back. “You missed me, didn’t you?”

You scoffed, trying to tear yourself out of her grip but her fingers were clamped too tightly. Damn Time Lady strength. You chuckled bitterly. “Now, tell me why I would ever miss you.”

At that, Missy wavered, realising, for the first time, that you weren’t going to fall straight back into her arms. Confusion flickered across her features before she smoothed out her brow. “Why wouldn’t you? Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on that teeny-tiny incident on Midanithair.”

“Teeny-tiny incident?” You spluttered, an ever-growing uncomfortable feeling sinking into your stomach. Your mouth tasted bitter, acrid as you swallowed harshly. “God, Missy, get your head out of your arse and actually remember what happened. I had finally escaped from all of... this when you came along, wreaking havoc and destruction and threatening genocide if I didn’t sacrifice myself. And then you mocked me for weeks for my ‘humanity’.”

You exhaled through your nose before breaking free from her grip. “I’m sorry, Miss, I really… just can’t right now.”

You could feel her gaze trailing you as you headed back up the ramp, making eye contact once again with the Doctor, an odd sense of déjà vu passing over you as he raised an eyebrow. You paused at the top of the ramp; eyes firmly fixed on the doors. Part of you wanted her to call you back, show you that she truly had cared. But the rational, logical side of you knew that this was for the best.

You nodded, trying desperately to convince yourself to walk out that door and never look back.

“Wait.”

And with that, you knew you’d be putty in her hands once again.

“What?” Your tone was harsher than you had expected, and Missy genuinely looked upset. The dull stab of guilt was a gentle pang, your heart twinging empathetically.

“I’m sorry. I truly am.”

You started to walk back to her, stopping a metre in front of her. “Why should I believe you?”

“I’ve apologised, is that not enough?” Her accent grew thicker as she grew more flustered. She’d never had to apologise sincerely before. “And… I realised that your presence was not as much of a nuisance as I had previously believed.” The words tumbled out of her mouth, barely louder than a whisper. You stifled a laugh, knowing that was the closest to a sentiment of affection you’d ever receive from her. Brash, arrogant compliments were more her thing, the cockiness hiding any deeper level of emotion.

Almost timidly, she reached out to you and you let her pull you in. Falling limply into her arms, you smiled softly as one of her hands came up to stroke your hair.

“I did miss you, Miss. Promise.”

Rico besides Kama what do you think about the other indian servants?????

AHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS GOING TO GET SOOOO LONG!!!! i have a different view of the indo fam as a whole. i call them the indo fam but i mean the found family trope!!!! theyre like a group of college students sharing a dorm if that makes sense, since their servant selves are obviously different from their initial myths/human vessels!!!

OK SO. RECENTLY, i have an oomf that found books about arjuna that summarize his exploits in the mahabharata(I DONT HAVE THE STRENGTH TO READ IT ALL IM SO SORRY) and also talk about him in a more philosphical manner such as his states of mind during each event etc and i’ve been meaning to read said book because im genuinely interested in arjuna now!!! and i’d like to know more about this indo prince because from what i’ve seen, he is portrayed in a rather bad light(?) in FGO which i find extremely !!!!!!!!!!! and incrdibley !!!!!!! strange !!!!!!! the mahabharata’s conflicts can be put in a mostly grey area where there’s no good nor bad, its not black and white. so seeing arjuna get bashed because of the way his conflict with karna was written is... hm. let’s say that im REALLY starting to understand arjuna fans that dislike seeing him get mischaracterized so much. OTHER THAN THAT, his design is adorable, his travel outfit is my favourite because he deserves to relax and have some fun!!! fgo making him a chuuni is cute and his VAs little moans are cute cute cute!!!!!!!!!!! (mash grabs my shoulder and forces me to sit down) i think that arjuna deserves better and im really happy to see him have fun in his travel costume voicelines. i think we should take arjun on a date!!! he’s a great lover, we’d have the best time!! OH ALSO, kama seeing him as the student council president in their interlude makes me SOOOOOOO HAPPY its unreal, i think it fits him very very well, the seitokaichou who was elected because of everyone’s hopes and recommended by teachers because he’s suuuch a good student but because of that, the pressure to be good is constantly towering over his head and everytime he looks out the window he wishes he could ditch class and skip a day just because he felt like going to the arcade and be a bad student.......just this once........i think hes very very cute...... i want him to cook for me. HAVE YO U READ HIS BOND 4 VOICELINE ?mmmmmggg i want him to get embarrassed everytime i praise him for having such a muscular waistline. AUG

ANEWAYS i also have quite the thoughts about karna, his characterization in the game is linked to arjuna’s and thats fine but i think that forgetting how much of a little sassy bastard he can get was a mistake! did you know that in apocrypha’s german dub on netflix, when jeanne calls his name like “You’re Karna, aren’t you ? The son of the Indian Sun God !” HES LIKE “So ?” AND THAT WAS SOOOO BITCHY OF HIM, i think that karna is a good boy in fgo but the fact that he was such a fighty old man in the mahabharata shouldnt be forgotten and is a charm trait. I MEAN ???? HE THREW HANDS WITH AN 18 YEAR OLD(ARJUN) WHILE BEIN LIKE... THIRTY TWO. WHATS WITH THIS ANNOYING OLD MAN !!!!! knowing these little facts about him made me like him so much more actually !! i think karna being so nice is adorable!! but the little bitchy energy u can find in his voicelines is also very charming!! i think karna looking at me emotionless as i ask him to lend me his notes for the nth time that week and then saying “...Mn.” when i thank him is cute!!! his voiceline towards things he dislikes is interesting to me. karna seeming aloof and mean bc he doesnt know how to communicate but is actually nice underneath...... hey... thats a little delinquentcore........ i wouldnt say yankii but hes like... hes like... u know hes the handsome quiet one of the group of yankiis... u know the one...? hey where are you going

ganesha is also a character im deeply interested in but i havent played CCC so i dont know that many details about jinako herself !! my brain goes HMMMMMM it seems lord ganesha is trans in fgo ! (since kama used to be a male god originally as well!!) ganesha uses all pronouns!!! and ganesha is also special to me because they share similar traits with kama when it comes to their characterization AND mischaracterizations. ganesha isnt JUST jinako. theres a part of a god in the servant mix!!! and jinako HERSELF is actually a pretty sad character imo. the whole otaku/neet thing is obviously a facade and her true wish being that she wants to redo her whole life is also proof of how much she hates what shes become, yet at the same time, she doesnt know what else she could do. but anyways, i prefer looking at servants from a lore POV so i think that ganesha should still be considered a god and be adressed as such!! i like seeing people portray ganesha as jinako but i prefer it when a certain lavish more godly side of them is put forward. a side of jinako that managed to move on a little bit if that makes sense ? that got more serious. and became someone else entierly despite sharing similarities. needless to say their bond with karna makes me happy since he shows them respect as you should towards a god!! its a bit different from their bond in CCC... like they matured somewhat!! anyway ganesha is the one who taught everyone else in the indo fam about video games and technology and i will NEVER shut up.

ashwatthama..... MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM %_’(’ç_”’è_ç(è_’”545656455456545453£¨¨µ¨µMµ¨++°=)=)°+ goodness. jesus christ on earth. my love story with him makes me so embarrassed. when he got revealed i instantly fell in love with him despite knowing JACK SHIT ABOUT HIM but since i was the only one in my friend group who was hardcore into fgo at the time, i kept my love for him to myself and just... (looks away)(i drop my wallet full of picturses of him) quietly adored his everything in silence. WELL, ree having an intense crush on yankii type characters isnt new, its been my favourite trope for ages (gyarus go in hand with them!!) and im still very attached to it so thats what made me love him in the first place!!!! BUT THEN. I GOT INTO HIS MAHABHARATAN LORE. And OHHHHHHHHH BABY.......... (im twirling my hair) so theres this 7ft tall war criminal..........<3<33<3(mash leans in and informs me that the convention of geneva didnt exist at the time) SO THERES THIS 7 FTTALL IMMORTALMAN.......<233 gOD he makes me absolutely CRAZY9909840385%£%%£%%µ%µ%µ the love i have for this character is immense and whenever im sad i remember that pako exists and has a tablet and can draw and i suddenly feel so much better. ok im gonna stop horny posting a little bit. but hes my wife. AND WHAT I LOVE ABOUT HIS PORTRAYAL IN FGO IS THAT, they actually made him a good boy despite his initial roughness and misdeeds ???!!! HELLO?? ashwatthama wishing for a redemption ark is my favourite thing and his righteousness that was born because of his regrets is a very interesting drivepoint to me !!! hes a gorgeous character and im buying a ticket plane as we speak right now so i can go find him in northern india. i’ll find him. GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME !!!!!GET OFF ME !!!

miss lakshimi makes me very sad! because every female servant in the indo fam is an already known face. (... would sita count.) and lakshi being a jeanneface is a waste. well, she’s still very pretty and her lore is also quite interesting!! i havent looked into it fully yet but i think she should be kissed on the mouth. her bad luck makes me slip on a banana peel whenevr i get close to her to kiss her and i hit my head on the pavement and pass away- 

parvati is on a tough spot for me atm. i genuinely love thinking of her as the way the indian goddess herself is portrayed because thats where the fun lies for me in her character. especially when shes involved with other indian servants, thats a given!! i would like to see parvati grow, suffer and heal. because branding her as an “all-knowing mom” is easy, but every single parent makes mistakes if you follow that logic. also, since shes the sakura servant “thats closest to her initial personality”, she’s got some of the most Repulsive fans ive Ever witnessed in fandom spaces and lets say that im trying to work my way out of this hellhole and find things to like about parvati without the fandom’s influence. needless to say, im going to keep looking into her mythos and her lore by myself at my own pace and keep doing my own thing in my little corner. 

rama shouldve been a jock. THE RAMAYANA IS OLDER THAN THE MAHABHARATA, WHY IS.....Hrm well him being summoned as his baby version gives me hope for a future rama alt perhaps??? but i think that he shouldve been a total jock and he shouldve been huge with a huge red lion-like mane for his hair and a teethy grin and big biceps and intense love for his wife. SPEAKING OF SITA, her charm point is her purity but i wish.... that their artist still hadnt drawn them like That, im not a fan of lily servants and i think purity = being young is a bit of an annoying excuse!!! rama and sita looking similar is because of their shared history which is fine but... rolls my eyes............. rama shouldve been 6ft tall and sita shouldve been a milf to match...... anyways i doubt ravana would be added as a servant but i’d love to have a ramayana centric event!! where all indo servants have their own lore centric role to play!!! oh thatd be a dream.... but i have learned to not expect much from a fanservice game so im jus gonna draw my own stuff! (strikes a pose!) (mashu claps!)

the roommate

Pairing: Logan x MC (implied)

Warnings: angst, ptsd

Word Count: ~1835

Summary: Set after the events of Ride or Die, my MC (Ellie Wheeler) adjusts to her new life, from the perspective of herself and her roomate, Sophie.

Notes: So... this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written! Always been too nervous to post but with @rodappreciationweek I figured why not. Hope you enjoy!

_________________________

sophia.

My roommate’s name was Ellie, from Los Angeles. We only texted a little before move-in day at Langston, and I really hoped we would get along. My older brother had told me horror stories about his freshman roommate, some of which I believed, most which I guessed he made up to scare me. Still, those stories had taken root in my mind and I found myself with a little more than first-day anxiety as mom fussed over the fitted bed sheet and position of the throw pillows in my new room. 

“Hi” a soft voice spoke from the door and I turned around quickly to greet the girl in the doorway. Her hair was pulled back and I squealed as I noticed her Langston sweatshirt, gesturing at the identical one I was wearing. She laughed at that, and to her surprise I launched forward to give her a hug. She only tensed for a moment before hugging me back, and with the ice seemingly broken we settled comfortably into unpacking and setting up the room.

I felt definitively uncool as my mom chattered on and on, immediately conscious of the fact that Ellie apparently didn’t need her mom to make her bed for her. I caught her a couple of times smiling softly at my mom with a longing look in her eyes I couldn’t quite place and I wondered what she thought of me. 

Ellie certainly didn’t seem to have as much stuff as I did, and certainly not my plant habit that was rapidly turning into an addiction. The only thing she set on her desk was a framed photograph which she removed from a box full of tissue paper with great care, running a hand quickly over the glass before setting it down. I snuck a look at it as I pushed a succulent into her hands, insisting that she have something else to liven up her side of the room.

She and an unusually attractive boy, both dressed in formal attire, stared fiercely into the camera as if daring someone to oppose them, his arm wrapped protectively around her. His eyes were dark and powerful, while hers were full of a righteous fury and passion that seemed both completely out of place and extraordinarily natural on her features.

Ellie and I spent that night and the next few weeks getting to know each other. We bonded over both being from the West Coast, though Tacoma is very different from LA. She was smart, though she had the air of a student who wasn’t used to being surrounded by people at her level. We had no classes together but it was easy to fall into the rhythm of studying together in the library or student union building every night. I was so lucky to have her for the transition to college, and I hoped she felt the same.

She wanted stories about my siblings, my parents, the plays I’d been in during middle school, and I was more than happy to talk without realizing that I was learning very little about her in return. Still, I managed to pick up on some things. She spun her charm bracelet when she got excited about something, and fiddled with some strange object on a chain around her neck when she thought no one was looking, a far-away look on her face. 

For a girl who owned so many leather jackets and an apparently very impressive car (The only thing I care about less than cars are the Kardashians and essential oils) she was surprisingly sweet and funny, enough that I was shocked the first time I saw her in short sleeves.

“Is that a real tattoo?” I exclaimed, not giving her time to answer. “That is so cool. I really wanted one when I was 16 and my sister told me she’d poke me with a needle for free. What is it? A wolf? Badass. Do you have a whole pack of them?”

She laughed and pulled a jacket on. “It’s a lone wolf, I’m afraid. Ran away from its pack.”

I’m a light sleeper which I always considered a curse in a house full of noisy siblings, but I was glad of it the first time I woke up in the middle of the night to a scream, sleepily flicking on the light to see her writhing in her bed. I threw back the covers and sat down on her bed, gently shaking her shoulder until she woke up gasping, nails digging into my arm. For just a moment I swore I could see the ghosts of great flames in her eyes, fading back into embers as she realized where she was. 

I wrapped my arms around her and she sat still for a few long moments before squeezing my arm and standing up. 

“I think… I think I’m going to go for a drive. Thank you Soph.” I wanted to wait up for her but I fell asleep on top of my sheets. 

The nightmares happened again, and then again. Some nights she would just curl back into the blankets, or open the window before falling back to sleep. 

And some nights she would grab the keys from her nightstand and leave without a word. I’d be asleep before she came home, or maybe she never came back to bed those nights. Maybe she drove until the morning sun stretched her fingers above the horizon and began her slow crawl to the other side.

ellie.

When I left LA, it felt like the ending of a story. The closing of a book. But I’m starting to realize life doesn’t work like that. Nobody gets happy endings or tidy conclusions. Life just… keeps going. And it’s up to us whether we can stay afloat or get lost in the riptide, losing ourselves in the memories and regrets. 

Don’t get me wrong, nothing could take away the magic of stepping out of my car at the place I had dreamed about since I was old enough to dream, completely and terrifyingly on my own. No curfew, no explanations needed. I could reinvent myself. It would be a brand new start. But as I subconsciously ran a hand over the smooth hood of my Widow I remembered the first time I had seen her, sleek and dangerous and mine in Kaneko’s shop, how the leather of the seats smelled like home, and I knew forgetting wasn’t an option. And maybe I didn’t want it to be.

I had never shared a room with anyone, unless you count sleepovers with Riya or the week I spent in Logan’s loft above the shop. But Sophia made it feel like I’d been missing out. She was kind and open and welcoming from the moment I stepped in the room. She was brilliant, too, even for Langston standards which were far above what I was used to at Mar Vista Prep. I quickly realized that there would be little time to fully appreciate the lack of parental control given my heavy workload. 

I had a couple classes with Ingrid and was surprised by how happy I was to see her. I needed to get out of LA but it would always be the place I was from and she represented a piece of my past. A reminder of a time in my life that I might have convinced myself never really happened if not for her. We were friendly and the fun kind of competitive, but didn’t hang out much outside of class, though I felt that either one of us would be happy to if the other one asked. I made a lot of acquaintances very quickly, a few of which turned tentatively into friends, but I mostly hung out with Soph when I wasn’t in class.

My dad and I talked nearly every day for the first couple weeks, which gradually turned into every weekend. We never talked for long, classes were “going well”, work was “busy”. I loved him, of course, but I found it hard to shake the image of him pointing a gun at the man I loved, face tight with bitter fury. 

I knew Colt was still in LA, and I hesitantly tried to inquire about the specifics of my dad’s latest assignments. He must have figured what my real question was because he got quiet for a moment then said “I think it’s best if we don’t talk about that. Best to leave it in the past.”

I didn’t mention it again, or ask about Mona which had been my next idea. But it was hard to leave Logan in the past when I’d spent so much time seeing him as my future. I texted his number a couple times even though I knew he’d no longer have it, pitiful ‘I love you’s when I felt so lonely it was hard to breathe. 

At night my fingers would trace the places his had until the memories of his rough hands on my body were blurred with my own and I was no longer sure if he had ever touched me at all. If not for the spark plug I wore around my neck and the picture of us at prom I kept next to a succulent Soph had given me, I wouldn’t be sure he ever existed at all. 

I was ok most of the time and on occasion, I wasn’t. I cried sometimes and I didn’t even know why. I grew to fear lying in bed because the thoughts threatened to crush me, my brain forcing myself to relive every moment of that spring and asking me what I should have done differently. And when I finally, finally got to sleep I had nightmares. 

Jason looming over me, larger than life, hands reaching out as my feet stuck to the ground, my car nowhere to be seen. Or a blazing inferno on the bridge, Colt’s screams of pain and grief pounding in my ears, his face twisted in an agony I could have prevented. Kaneko’s voice a whisper in my skull “Once you’ve made your choice it is made. You hold true until the end.” 

The fire from the explosion spreads, higher and farther than I remember it, the flames taking Jason’s shape, and my father’s, consuming me completely until I wake up, sweating and throat hoarse with Sophia’s soft hands on my shoulder. 

Sometimes I can get back to sleep, but sometimes I know I won’t be able to. On those nights I grab my keys and run down to my Widow, no jacket so I can feel the wind on as much of my body as possible. At that hour the streets are sleepy and I can make it to the freeway in 10 minutes. And as the lights passing by turn into stars, spinning above my head, I drive. And in that moment I can hear their laughter, their whoops and cheers. In that moment, as I fly into the night... I’m not alone. 

✨ self-ship tag game ✨

PART 2 | IwaLee (here you go, discord)

sorry if it's corny/cheesy LMAO my brain empty i can't think of anything to make for iwa's birthday i'm such a dumbass. was also supposed to draw an nsfw-ish thing for this but ya girl is feelin’ out of it lately sjhfalhj

How we met:

okay let’s just say i’m smart enough to land myself a scholarship in socal since i’m taking physical therapy anyway

i feel like... we would meet in the library LMAO what asian nerds

maybe i’d end up bothering him with the way i’m murmuring anatomy stuff and talking to myself when studying

so he overhears me struggling to remember that one word and he’s gonna fucking answer for me like okay sorry bud i’m stupid

jk i won’t react like that i’d just be like, “yes!” and turn to look at whoever it was who answered and say thank you because i’m so immersed in my own bubble of “knowledge” and big brain

when i notice that he’s actually cute i’d be fucking red in the ears out of embarrassment when he tells me to tone my voice down lmao so i apologize for being a bother :(

actually says, “don’t mind” damnit his english do be cute. just two asian kids far from home with accents

it’s awkward, but i’d steal glances at what he’s studying. would probably get caught after a looong while, but it’s bc i’ll be blanking off, brain tired

“do you have anything you want to ask?” he’ll be dropping his pen over his notes leaning back and stretching, bending his neck, rolling his shoulders while waiting for my answer

“omg i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to stare.” then i ask what his program is just bc he could be in one of my classes and i didnt know

anyway, turns out our schedules were pretty similar, we live in the same area/dorm, so like there’s always a chance for us to meet somehow

we wouldn’t give numbers to eo on that same day; like give it about two weeks of constantly bumping into eo before that happens

watch me share my highlighters with him, exchanging notes, passing some snacks beneath the table like its weed or sumn

from lib meetings to getting lunch together to being invited to watch his games (in freshman year i’d still go because i’d be less busier)

i would definitely use the honorifics on him, from “iwaizumi-san” gradually to “iwa-kun”; he won't admit that he likes it because it's a little piece of home

would convince to practice palpation with him because his body is a perfect example–

"wh-why don't you ask someone from your class?"

"i'm not that close with—are you blushing? omg you are!"

somehow i joke around, "i won't touch your dick," then i'd laugh at his reaction.

anyway, in return for using his body as a model, i have to sit through a godzilla marathon with him

the first time he sees me breakdown from the stress he's kinda flustered at first; but he's seen similar things with oikawa so he has a faint idea what to do. damn his hugs feel so warm, so safe

i'm quicker to open up to him, once i got comfortable; and reassurance that if he needed someone to talk to i'll also be there

basically a slow burn best friends to lovers kinda thing

ngl i'd be crushing on him by the time we're entering second year maybe? but because we're friends i always throw the thought away because i don't wanna ruin what we have

but da heart wants what it wants

it would take: the teasing of his buddies back at japan after seeing him post ig pics of us together (it was me who did it, i grabbed his phone); and, my own set of friends getting annoyed at me for always being in denial—all these just for us to finally come into terms with what we feel for eo

"i have something to tell you," we'll say to eo before we enter the lib ksksksk

"oh, you go first-" "no, you-"

it's awkward but i'll be the first to confess and he's 👁👁

"you... what?" "smh don't make me say it again, iwa. does this mean we're not friends anymore?"

"yeah"

"oh..."

"because i like you too. you... wanna go out with me?"

First date x type of dates:

study dates are automatically a thing for sure; we've upgraded from lib to cafe dates

since we're like, friends before this, potential stuff for first dates are already crossed out since we've kinda done them already???

so this issue was raised and his mind said, "then let's redo everything,"

the first thing we did outside campus was go on a foodtrip. because i was craving filo food, and he was craving jap food. and then i have this kinda habit that when i get to eat something delicious, i silently squeal or hum in my seat he finds that cute

the "first date" doesn't really have to be grand because we're like... close friends with feelings. so we don't have to try hard to please each other. everything just feels natural when we're together

anyway, we try out the food we didn't have before. he still prefers sinigang over adobo. he's still kinda amazed where i put all the food after eating a bowl of ramen that's good for two

he's gonna take a pic of me in that excited face i make when the food is placed before me and make it his wallpaper (homescreen) secretly

after that, we're just walking, me telling him about something i watched or nerd talk, then he slips his hand against mine, holding it and pulling me closer that it makes me shut up–so he laughs

"that's all it takes to get you quiet, babe?"

"w-what? also... did you just call me babe? because i didn't think i'd like it,"

"i know something you'll like," he stops walking, then, with his free hand he cups my face and pulls in for a kith kith 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

i am blushing when i tell him, "that your first kiss?"

"y-yeah, why?"

"same"

we were already walking and he swoops in for a quick peck again, "then that's the second,"

he says that with a little frown on his face, cheeks also flushed and ugh soft!lee—i lean my head against his arm because i'm too short to put it above his shoulder. but anyway i tell him, "didn't think you had it in you to be this soft for me,"

"sh-shut up"

it doesn't seem romantic because ✨it doesn't have to be when we're already happy✨

While we’re dating:

he saves all the selfies i send him; whether it's the meme-ish ones or just me feelin' good about myself he's got them saved

notebooks getting interchanged kskskss it's terrible because one minute i'm reading my notes about pharma, then i flip a page and i see stuff about sports science like–???

tho what makes it cute is that he has tiny scribbles on corners in hiragana or maybe kanji and some random zigzag lines over some words–a sign that he fell asleep with a pen in his hand

i have lots of caps (that are majority of my dad's but i like them all so i brought sum) and he just... gets one from behind my door (it's the same energy as the hoodies thing)

and i 🥺 bc he actually looks good in caps like??? sir that's illegal

ok but walks in the beach at sunset

also surfer!iwa???? mhhhh yes yes living the dream honestly

ofc volleyball is involved, he's kinda pleased i can play decently. it's either the gym or vb

he would force me to go to the gym smh "you're a PT aren't you? shouldn't you be moving around too?" i'm gonna grumble but the sight of his er, toned body before during and after exercising is the best reward

actually its a win-win, he likes how my butt is outlined by my jog pants and how for him, i still look good even if i'm sweaty all over

hehe we'd end up getting horny by the time we reach the dorms–you know the rest and afterwards:

"so, you'll go to the gym more often now?"

"if it ends up like this, i wouldn't mind,"

we teach eo our mother language! but only on our spare time. omg imagine him telling me "mahal na mahal kita"??? i'm??? or when he's chatting with oikawa (especially that one time he sent a selfie of him and ushijima) he uses tagalog swear words if he just wants to mess with his best friend

vidcalls with each other's fam—i mean, for my parents they know we've been always close, and like, it will be my grandma/dad who'd ask him, "when will you court my granddaughter/daughter?"

he got so nervous, he stuttered, "i'm... i'm courting her already,"

anyway they approve of him because he is smart^TM and a good man 🥺 because they know he has ambitions in life the same way that i do have my own goals i wanna achieve

meanwhile me, i'm gonna be so nervous trying to speak to his fam, but they're all so sweet so i tell him afterwards, "so that's where you get the softies,"

anyway since this is college we're talking about, every passing year, we both become busy, especially when internships come around

but when he can, he'll fetch me from the hospital with comfort food because he knows it's been a rough day and he wants to make sure i'm taking care of myself 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 lowkey i try to do the same for him because he deserves it; but he says it's okay and that i should be preserving my energy for my studies 😭

2020 – 20 Facts

Oh dear, I’m so behind on those tags again. I had a pretty rough week and the next two won’t any better, so I decided to use the little spare time I have to spend it with this post and all of you out there.

So, here are 20 facts about me. Thanks for tagging me @kita-lavellan @pikapeppa and @faerieavalon. All of you are so sweet! ♥︎

Not going to tag forward today because my brain is fried and I have the feeling, anyone I know has been tagged already lol. Feel free to grab these questions and answer them, nonetheless.

1. Do you make your bed? Yes, as a part of my morning routine. As soon as I get dressed, I take the time to fold the blanket and open the curtains. It’s like a signal for my brain that it’s time to get to work. Guess my mom drilled that into me.

2. What’s your favorite number? I don’t really have a favorite number. I used to love 27 the best, because Sailor Uranus (who was my biggest idol at age 10) was born on January 27, according to the manga. X) But that’s it.

3. What’s your job? I’m a freelance copywriter and an indie author. Most of the time, I write/re-write/edit copy on websites, apps and blogs, plus some translating/transcreating from English to German. I put the creative writing in between projects and will finish my first novel this years. Fingers crossed.

4. If you could, would you go back to school? Oh god, no. Not only was I bullied by my peers for most of the time, I never really learned how to actually learn stuff. I’m an autodidact, meaning I can devour tons of information and remember them for years, but I need to put that knowledge to practical use or it won’t stick. I got my A-levels with relative ease, but when I entered university – where I needed to “attach ass to chair” and force myself to study – I failed so miserably that I quit after a year.

5. Can you parallel park? Nope, don’t even have a driver’s license. X3

6. A job you had which would surprise people? Hmm... I didn’t have a bunch of different jobs tbh. There was only that might surprise people: When I was around 18 years old, I used to clean self-service laundries on Sundays. It was nasty, but it paid well.

7. Do you think aliens are real? I was so very much into SETI research when I was like 14 years old. So, yes. Absolutely yes! :)

8. Can you drive a manual car? Do remote control cars count?

9. What’s your guilty pleasure? Procrastination work with cleaning/doing laundry/buy groceries and lots of other stuff that I should not be doing.

10. Tattoos? Two, both on the left lower arm. One is the symbol of the Rebel Alliance, the other are the symbols for the four elements. The last one confuses the heck out of people.

11. Favorite color? Dark green, mostly. But I love so many colors, it’s hard to pick one!

12. Things people do that drive you crazy? Humanity drives me crazy with its arrogance, intolerance, hatespeech, rudeness and a lot of other things, but here are some pet peeves of mine: When people try to shuffle INTO the subway before the passengers had the chance to get OFF the subway first. When people go up an escalator and then just stop at the top and block the way for everyone elese. When people chew with their mouths wide open...

13. Any Phobias? If an animal has more than four legs, you bet I’m afraid of it.

14. Favorite childhood sport? Dancing. I loved it so much, I went to a dancing school 3 or 4 times a week as a teen, participating in a variety of courses from contemporary to Latin to hip-hop/street dance.

15. Do you talk to yourself? Only when I’m stressed out.

16. What movie do you adore? I love Star Wars with all my heart, but the film that resonates with me the most on an emotional level is Blade Runner.

17. Do you like doing puzzles? It depends on the puzzle. I love doing crosswords, though.

18. Favorite kind of music? To be honest, I have a terrible taste in music: I can switch from progressive house/electronica to classical music/soundtracks to trashy pop music pretty seamlessly. So, there is not really a “favorite kind of music”.

19. Tea or coffee? I’m a coffee person. Can’t be helped. ^^;

20. The first thing you remember you wanted to be when you grew up? When I was about 6 years old, my life was all about dinosaurs and I really wanted to be a paleontologist. I went to the park often, pretending to dig up old fossils and bones. Thinking back, I really enjoyed returning home caked with dirt and sweat. That interest later extended to ancient cultures and history, so I wanted to be like a real-life Lara Croft. But all started with the dinosaurs.* :)

*Even as a child, my life was all about lore. Even the real-life Earth lore. Haha.

As mentioned above, my brain is pretty much fried today. Any typos and weird grammar mistakes you find are yours to keep. :3 Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this. See you soon! :)

Hiii! Ok I would like a ship with a member of CNCO please! I’m 27 and a Scorpio. I have a slight attitude and the way I flirt is to lightly bully. I can from a rough neighborhood and that sometimes shows but mostly I’m pretty nice. I don’t trust easily but when I do I never shut up and am extremely loyal. I love to make my family and friends laugh and I have no issue making a fool of myself. I love to hang with friends, go dancing, sing karaoke even though I can’t sing. My photo shows my looks🙃

HI!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5qAZ4NpAsoU90NH6Cbm4oM?si=cSkDR5IzQo-NL2Tov9w9cg 

I hope you don’t mind me saying but, you are SO PRETTY!

I ship you with....RICHARD!

I feel like you would meet our boy Richard while you’re having a well deserved night out. You’re more than likely going to get a drink to cool off and all these girls are talking to him on the other side and he politely kind of pauses them and goes up to you. You’re getting your drink and you see him from the corner of your eyes and already you’re like “mmm nah.” *insert eye roll emoji from you* 

Knowing Richard he’d hit you with the “Aye Mami, what it do?” and you’d be like “Absolutely nothing.”

Richard doesn’t want to say he’s shocked and kind of astounded that you aren’t giving him heart eyes...but...he’s kind of shocked and astounded.

You’d walk away to go back to dancing and his brain would trip for a hot minute and go “??????”

Intrigued but not wanting to overstep himself and make you feel uncomfortable, he’ll steal glances at you from a distance until GASOLINA COMES ON CAUSE Y’ALL ALREADY KNOW ITS A CLASSIC BUT I GO OFF-

Mr. Camacho KNOWS it’s his time to shine.

So he slowly but surely begins to get closer to where you and your friends are and the moment you notice him you’re shaking your head and laughing to yourself.

He was confident af walking up to you when you were getting a drink but now that he’s shooting his shot again he’s looking reeeeaaaallllll shy.

Before he can even say anything to explain himself, you’re grabbing his hand and pulling him into you to dance. This boy is SWOONING!!!

You guys start off as friends and honestly with you becoming a part of his life, he couldn’t be happier. He thought he had everything before but dude the way you make him LAUGH and the way you guys are able to be goofy and talk shit together just drives him wild. 

Richie is definitely a show-off. Every time you send him a selfie or a picture/video of something awesome you do he acts like its show and tell and takes like 13 minutes to explain one image/video to the boys and talk about how amazing you are/it is.

AND WHEN YOU SING, W H E N  Y O U  S I N G 

RICHARD IS SITTING THERE, GIGGLING LIKE A FOOL, WATCHING IN AWE, SAYING STUFF LIKE “THAT’S MY BABY!!! GO ON BABY GIRL!!!!!!” 

It took you both a while to open up to each other just because Richard didn’t want to force you but he also has a hard time trusting people due to how big he is and how people are usually out here not giving him the love and appreciation he deserves.

He lowkey gets a little emotional when you open up to him because he finally found someone that trusts him and someone he can trust without fear of judgment or fear of that person not being real w him or exposing him.

When you first let Richard take you out this man is SMILINGGGG and trippin out. He totally posts his smile on his insta story. For your first date, he would take you to this restaurant for lunch that he thinks you’ll like even though HE HAS NEVER BEEN THERE BEFORE HE JUST THINKS YOU WILL LIKE IT

but after that, he wouldn’t want to be cheesy, he’d want something original, so him being him....

he rents out this space that literally has a bunch of things for you guys to do. I’m talking dancing, karaoke, board games, arcade games, a space for movies both inside and outside, a swimming pool, like this boy will SPOIL you and won’t even see it that way.

In short, Richard is in awe of you and the dynamic you guys have is super special. He’s never met a girl that he could have an attitude with (a fake one of course, more him trying to be goofy) and not mess everything up. He would love you dearly. 

💜

For the F/O Love Tropes ask meme, how about all of 'em with Wrench? 😸

F/O Love Tropes Asks  || You’re the maddest of lads...

Aborted Declaration of Love: How long did it take for you to finally confess to your F/O? How did it go? Were there several attempts, or was it just The One?

   Well, definitely a few months with the crew... It started around the time of me joining, with Wrench having some interest and vice versa, but it was far MORE time before all that tension could bubble up into a, “Hey, you wanna go out with me?” That, and some meddling on Retr0′s part to make it happen faster, LMAO!

   As for how it went... Heh, well, he made his point known, y’know~? So I’d say it was to the point...and I guess “several” attempts were made, but it was all super subtle stuff, y’know? Wordplay that could go any number of ways, so who knows, at the end of the day?

   But we made it! Hooray!

Accidental Hand Hold: When did you first hold hands with your F/O?

   Hmm... If I remember right, it was because I almost thoughtlessly walked into the street, freaking Wrench out. He grabbed my hand and wouldn’t let go! (It was on one of the “dates” Retr0 set us up on, btw.) I do remember wondering for WEEKS what was going through his head when he did that, though... Aside from “sweaty.”

   Wrench later told me “sweaty” was a good summary of his emotions, but also a mix between freaked out and elated beyond belief... So that’s super cute~

After-Action Patch-Up: How does your F/O react when they see you got hurt? How do they tend to your injury?

   Predictably, he flies off the fucking handle. Asking how hurt I am, who did it? Does he need to go kick their ass? Does someone have to die??? I have to calm him down before he gets too livid at anyone or anything (yes, thing) and fly away from the handle completely.

   After which, he’ll tend to the wound however works best. Grip might be too tight if he’s still worried, but otherwise has a really gentle hand, despite how rough they feel. (It’s really nice, though...)

Almost Kiss: What was your first kiss with your F/O like?

   ....I think the first time Wrench kissed me, I ascended to nirvana and never quite came back... Cause keep in mind, I didn’t see his face for the LONGEST time. The fact he kissed me at all was the highest honor I could’ve been given...

   So anyways, I’m a sap. But what’s new?

Beautiful Dreamer: Who’s usually the first to fall asleep while the other stares and admires?

   It all depends on the day, really! Sometimes he goes to bed early and I have some time to admire him... Other times, I go to bed and he stays up a little later, so then he’s the one sparing a few minutes more looking at me while I sleep. Probably half-clinging to a pillow because he wasn’t there for me to snuggle with.

   Other times, we’re both in bed and- if we don’t fall asleep at the same time- then it’s one of us trying to get into dreamland to catch up with the other.

Bodyguard Crush: How does your F/O make you feel safe?

   Honestly... I guess it’s his superior knowledge of weapons and degree of possessiveness. (That isn’t overwhelming.) I’m definitely a feral little gremlin when it comes to fighting, but that can’t save my ass all the time; being in or thinking we might get into a dangerous situation helps when Wrench knows what he’s doing, no matter what he has on him. (Typically a knife or two, along with a pistol/handgun of some kind.)

   For the latter- possessiveness- I’m anxious a lot. There’s no weapon on Earth that’s gonna make me feel safe when I’m getting paranoid or having a panic attack... But you know what does help? Having a husband who’s protective of me. If he sees or overhears me being too trusting of someone who wants to abuse my kindness, he’s on that. He’s the one who reminds me to never return to a forgotten drink or would slap the hand of an offered drink to make sure I’m safe.

   If anything happened to me- no matter what my brain comes up with- I’m assured that Wrench would be there in a moment to make sure I’m safe and having fun. If not, then we can go, no pressure.

   ...I love that about him. It’s nice to not feel pressured by my own anxieties or fears. To feel safe.

Caught In The Rain: How does your F/O react if a sudden rainstorm interrupts your date with them?

   He’d probably read my reaction to it. I love rain, but if there were a lot of outdoor activities planned, I might be temporarily bummed about it... Though he’s been with me long enough now to know that I love rain!!

   So we’d probably just go outside and play in it until we’re freezing and soaked~

Grow Old With Me: How long have you and your F/O been together?

   We’ll have been together 2 years this coming February 15th!

Laugh Of Love: What are some things your F/O does to make you laugh?

   All of the ridiculous jokes he makes. He makes so many of them, too!!! Ugh, it’s ridiculous...but I love it. Just as much as he makes dirty jokes or teases me about something or the other; I giggle when I’m flustered, so that fuels him all the more. Wrench is also the classic “class clown” type, so he’ll go to any lengths to get a smile on my face, especially if I’m feeling down...

   His recent favorite is to shove his thumbs into my mouth and pull my mouth up. We love our references and though it’s a little creepy (because, y’know....Joker), I still laugh cause at the end of the day, he’s only doing it to be a nerd. I appreciate that. (It’s the same deal as when he says “I know” when I try to tell him I love him; just being a nerd and making references. Besides, if it makes me smile or laugh, why not?)

Love Epiphany: When and how did you realize you loved your F/O? When and how did they realize they loved you?

   I think it’s fair to say we realized it pretty early on, just didn’t realize the magnitude of how much we loved each other until far later. Because when Wrench finally asked me out? All those months later? That was the crux of him realizing how much he liked me and how he really wanted to be with me.

   ...And despite realizing we’re this in love..... I think it’s actually a term that doesn’t quite apply to us, in a way. Because we’re still falling for each other all over again, in different ways. Me initially falling for him was so different compared to when I saw his face for the first time! And when we got married!! It’s been stages of falling in love and I don’t think it’s going to ever stop~

   ....Cheesy as that all sounds!!!

Marry For Love: Are you and your F/O married? If so, how was the wedding like? If you aren’t, do you plan on getting married, and if so, how would you like it to be like?

   Yes, we did~! Almost been married for a year now already, as of December 16th. We had this small, official wedding, then a larger, still-private (friends and my cousin only) deal that was a bit more of an “average” wedding... Complete with playlist as debated and worked on by the both of us!

Post-Kiss Catatonia: How did you and your F/O react to your first kiss together?

   Well, I mentioned my side (absolutely starstruck), so for Wrench... Heh, just as elated, if not with more anxiety!! He told me waaaayyy later that- had he more confidence back then- he definitely would have tried to make out with me, but... The prospect was terrifying at the time, so he bailed, of course.

   Not that I minded!!! Even just that had us both sitting on cloud nine for a good while...

Sickeningly Sweethearts: Do you and your F/O engage in PDA? If yes, how do the surrounding people react?

   Ooooohhhh, you bet we do...not that it’s always tasteful PDA when it’s Wrench, I tell you what.... But ah, what else do I love him for, if not for his best and most perverted of moments? Besides, either way, we make people pretty sick.

   There’s passing PDA (giving quick kisses on our way out or as we pass each other by), but if one of us has time on our hands... That’s where we get gross. Cause then it’s a wild card between us being sappy and domestic as hell (petnames and all) OR it’s Wrench getting handsy, eager to get back home... This is usually where food being thrown comes in. On occasion, plastic cutlery.

   Either way, nobody’s winning...except us~!♡

You Must Be Cold: How does your F/O keep you warm when it’s cold outside?

   Easy. Many blankets, our extra pillows, and maybe a soft, warm sweater if it’s particularly freezing that day/night. We hog the couch in a wrap of warmth, and cocoon like that! Anyone with cold hands or feetsies must warm up quickly or be tossed to the floor in a heap if said cold limbs touch the other!! XP

   ...Winter’s a fun time. (But this also why I got wool socks the last time I was forced to visit family. Take that, cold weather! I’m onto you!!)

Zip Me Up: Does your F/O help you get dressed for the day? Do you help them?

   We usually don’t need to, since we dress pretty casually...but sometimes I help Wrench with his vest. I can do it myself, but if we’re in a rush, then Wrench puts on my spiked choker for me. (Which is fine anyways, since he got that for me. It’s only fitting, right?)

   If we get dressy, though... Then it’s basically law. :3c  I learned to work with ties for him! And damn, does he look good in a vest and rolled up sleeves...... Mmph~♡

@serceleste did this and it looked fun! Not tagging anyone but if you too think it’s fun, feel free to grab it.

1. When you start a story, do you usually have a general plot overview or do you make it up as you go?

That depends! I usually prefer to write off the seat of my pants and see where the story takes me, just letting it come together naturally leads to twists and turns I would have never thought of during outlining. But when I’m writing exchange stories, as I’ve mostly been doing lately, I have a time limit and can’t afford to write myself into a corner or get stuck for weeks or even worse, need to start from scratch. So that’s when I force myself to have at least a rough outline before I start writing.

10 questions and I like to ramble so more under the cut

2. What’s your preferred POV to write from?

Close third person. I’m not very good at writing first person but I love biased narrators and strong voices, and especially unreliable narrators (though the latter can be tricky to bring across when you have only one POV, for me it works better when I have several POVs or in longer stories.) So this is a good compromise for me. Since I mostly write shorter stories I stick to one POV on these but I do like to have several POVs in my longer stories (and usually regret it when I don’t since my narrators are so confined within their own worldview that it feels like half the story passes them by - this “Harry Potter is so clueless X could be happening right under his nose and we wouldn’t know” thing)

3. Do you write fan or original fiction?

Both. Mostly fanfic currently. I really love writing novel-length stories for originals but I don’t have the energy for longfic these days, even just thinking about it makes me feel overwhelmed. Stupid brain. So outside of original exchange fic, fanfic is better suited to the writing I feel comfortable with.

4. Which one do you prefer?

Originals. I love the character and world building aspect of writing the most and there’s just nothing like creating your own worlds.

5. For fan fiction writers, do you like using AUs or canon settings better and why?

Canon settings. I love the canon worlds, I love canon backstories and how you can twist a few details with canon divergent AUs or in-universe AUs (like dark/light side swaps or such) and change a lot. Beyond personal preference, the way I like to write complete AU settings, I find them far more research-heavy for less reward. 

For example, that one silly Jyn-and-Cassian-watch-the-soccer-world-cup modern AU of 800 words or so took hours of reading up on Mexican intelligence services, English football lingo [I can talk football in German, but not in English, I don’t have anyone to talk football to in English!], the history of Britain and Mexico’s national teams in World Cups and friendlies alike, figuring out at what local time the games would be playing in Mexico City and coming up with a complete backstory for both. All of that probably amounted to three lines in the fic.

6. What’s your favorite platform to post your work to?

AO3. It took me a while to get used to it after switching over from FF.Net but I prefer it for posting (and am one of the lucky ones who don’t have any formatting problems at all when they upload fic, which is part of my preference for it.) Besides FF.Net making uploading a pain it’s also the simple matter that there’s more of an audience for the things I write on AO3. In my fandoms it feels like the only thing that gets attention on FF.Net is juggernaut het, which I don’t write often. I do however prefer that the lack of tagging leads to less expectation that you “warn” for half the plot in the tags already (I’m not talking stuff like noncon warning here, but “angst with a happy ending” or such)

7. How do you feel about unsolicited criticism?

That depends wholly on my mood. It can be hurtful, sometimes it can be helpful despite being hurtful and sometimes it’s just discouraging. My thoughts on these keep varying. I do feel like tone makes a huge difference here and of course whether it’s constructive criticism or not. (Aka no, I won’t stop writing this ship because it goes against the headcanon of some random person on the internet.)

8. Again, for fic writers, what’s your favorite fandom to write for?

Currently and for the last couple of years that’s been Star Wars. I’m still having a hard time getting back into the Sequel Trilogy after falling fast and hard for Rogue One, that’s still where I feel most at home, but I’m slowly getting back to the ST. I find the OT strangely unapproachable - I think it’s this mental block of it being “the” Star Wars and so I feel far more hesitant to mess around with it. ST and RO are “my” Star Wars, thus I feel a lot more confident in messing with these. I have this strange mental block that makes it harder for me to write for the cartoons (and thus PT, since PT is intertwined with TCW for me) and that’s all me - and all the more frustrating since I’m an anime and cartoon fandom writer, I have no excuse! I don’t even know. Brains are weird.

9. What is it about a certain character/relationship/fandom that inspires you to write about them?

If only I knew. There are a lot of fandoms and characters I love but don’t feel the need to write about, while other shows are incredibly inspirational though I wouldn’t even give them a second watch if I didn’t feel this burning need to tell their stories. I guess that’s it, cliched as it sounds. There must be a story for me to tell. If I’m satisfied with the canon material or if a ship gives me on the screen what I want for them then I rarely feel the desire to write for them.

10. Do you do much research before starting a piece?

That depends wholly on the piece and varies wildly - and on my mood, since I usually love research, but sometimes dread it and will try to postpone it until my story is stuck without it. But I do some research for most stories, even if it’s only looking up some planets to pick one for their mission. I have gathered a lot of useless SW trivia this way. Seriously. In the same vein, I will need far less research for the fields I’m already well-versed in. I feel fairly confident by now in writing about the New Republic and Rebel Alliance, both Disney and Legends canon - but writing about the inner workings of the Empire or the Imperial Remnant takes ridiculous amounts of research for the tiniest details since I barely know where to start.

SquidBob- True Art

Um yeah new to this. My tumblr’s fairly new and I barely use it but a friend of mine wanted to see my fanfics on here so I might just do that. I’m not really sure what the proper format for posting fics is, but eh this looks about right? For @supericebeam​ I’m just going to post my SquidBob stuff first then I’ll post the others.

Title: True Art Summary: The Mayor of Bikini Bottom commissions Squidward to carve a sculpture of SpongeBob to honor his heroism in saving their town. Rated: T for Teen; 13+ Characters: SpongeBob, Squidward, the Mayor Pairing(s): SquidBob, slight Squandy Genre: Romance/ Drama Word Count: 4, 598

Fic belongs to me.

SpongeBob Musical belongs to Kyle Jarrow (who wrote the book).

SpongeBob © Nickelodeon.

[X-posted from deviantART]

A month passed after the near eruption. During Bikini Bottom’s Reconstruction period, the Mayor had asked Squidward into her office on a Sunday afternoon (which he was more than happy to oblige—after all, if the Mayor personally requests you, it must be important) and to his gratification, she offered him a commission. He perked up at the word ‘’commission’’, thinking this was his long-deserved reward for organizing that stupid concert, but his parade was soon rained on by the mention of the name ‘’SpongeBob’’. Of course. Any shard of happiness he ever had always had to be spoiled by the likes of that half-witted invertebrate. He sulked, listening to the Mayor ramble on about wanting Squidward to carve a sculpture of SpongeBob, to honor the ‘’simple sponge’’ for his bravery in saving the town. Squidward didn’t agree to it, not verbally anyhow, but the Mayor assumed all was settled and rushed Squidward into the hallway, where he bumped into the sponge himself on his way in. SpongeBob must’ve said ‘’hello’’ or something but Squidward went temporarily blind and deaf. ‘’SpongeBob, yes, do come in!’’ the Mayor waved him in her office, then turned to Squidward before closing the door and said, ‘’I just can’t wait to see your masterpiece, Mister...’’ his last name escaped her. Still glowering, he replied, ‘’Tentacles.’’ ‘’Yes, Mr. Vegetables.’’ ‘’Tentacles, with a ‘T’, ma’am,’’ he repeated, louder this time. ‘’Telephones, that’s what I said,’’ and she closed the door. ‘’THAT’S TENTACLES!’’

                                                              *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Inside the office, neither the Mayor nor SpongeBob heard Squidward’s outburst, although SpongeBob did hear something that sounded like ‘’Professionals!’’ being screamed right outside the door. He turned to find the source of said noise but the Mayor pinched his cheek, like his Grandmother always did, forcing him to turn his attention towards her. ‘’Now, little yellow one, I have a proposition to make,’’ and she petted his hair in a forced maternal display of affection. ‘’Lollipop? Cookie? Or whatever kids eat these days?’’ With that, she pushed a bowl of sweets, which had been resting on her desk, towards him.

‘’No thank you, ma’ am, I’ve just had lunch.’’ He wouldn’t dare eye that candy neither. He was trying to act mature before the Mayor, but in reality he hadn’t quite grown out of those things. Nevertheless, he didn’t want her to see him as just a ‘’kid’’, so he straightened up, and folded his hands firmly over his lap. He had to remind himself that he was in a government official’s presence, not at his Grandmother’s. The Mayor seemed impressed and took her place behind her desk, ready to talk business with SpongeBob, one-on-one, like one adult to another.

‘’So, Mr. SquashPants,’’ she indicated. ‘’You’re not as ‘simple’ as everyone said you were. No, I see a man sitting right where you are, not a boy. Shame on Mr. Cakes for notifying me how callow you were. After all, a juvenile couldn’t be the hero of our town, now could he?’’ she laughed, expecting him to laugh with her.

He flushed scarlet, not bothering to correct her mispronunciation of his surname (and poor Mr. Krabs, thank the watery heavens he wasn’t here. He would have the mind to disregard the Mayor’s feelings and stubbornly correct her). SpongeBob knew she was generally bad with surnames and thought it best not to point this out. She meant well. ‘’Thank you, ma ‘am.’’ He said, shyly. ‘’But I’m not—‘’

‘’Nonsense!’’

                                                             *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Squidward knew the Mayor had dismissed him but he couldn’t help but eavesdrop and found himself crouching in the hallway, his ear pressed against the door to listen. He heard SpongeBob at first politely decline the Mayor’s offer, saying he hadn’t done it for the glory but that he did it because he loved Bikini Bottom so much (this was only the half truth. After all, Squidward hoped SpongeBob didn’t forget about his initial quest on the path to praise or as he put it ‘’claim to fame’’). You little brat, Squidward thought to himself. Don’t sound so discreet. You know you want that statue as much as the next guy. I mean, who wouldn’t?

                                                             *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Alright, so SpongeBob tried to contain his excitement, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t happy about it either. He was, oh so very much. At the same time, becoming a hero grew less important to him the closer he got to Mt. Humungous. He tried to tell her this, but the Mayor only lightly teased him about his humbleness. ‘’Of course you must be rewarded!’’ she said. ‘’Without you, our town would have been up in flames and burnt to a....um...’’ He saw her wracking her brain for the proper word.

‘’A crisp?’’ SpongeBob suggested.

‘’I was gonna say Herring and Pumpkin Pot Pie, you ever try one of those? ‘Course not, they sell that kind of cra- uh, stuff in Shell City. They catch you fresh and cook...uh, anyway, that works, too. What was I saying?’’  

‘’That I was to have a memento, to be Squidward’s magnum opus.’’ He blushed again.

‘’Yes, because you’re a hero and thanks to your heroism we’re not pickled herring in fishy pot pie!’’

Before the Mayor could go off on a tangent once more, scatterbrained as she often was, SpongeBob then quickly requested that his friends be included into the honory monument. He couldn’t take

all

the credit—it was Sandy who invented the ‘’ingenious bubble device’’ in the first place, and Patrick who had saved him in time from falling to his death. But the Mayor either didn’t hear him or pretended not to, and before he could stop her, she had pushed him out of her office and into the arms of Squidward waiting in the hallway outside.

‘’But, Miss Mayor, ma’ am,’’ he started but she closed the door in his face. He sighed, then turned to Squidward, and nervously smiled up at him but as usual, the sour crank had a grimace and told him to be at his house tomorrow morning to model. Then he left, grumbling something about ‘’who needs heroes’’ and ‘’wouldn’t do it for the world if it didn’t mean exposure and getting some credit myself.’’

                                                               *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

‘’Turn to the left, please,’’ Squidward instructed him. SpongeBob moved his chin to the left. ‘’Your other left.’’ He did as he was told, moving instead to the right. Squidward sighed and stood from his easel. ‘’What?’’ SpongeBob asked. ‘’Let’s see your other side again. Maybe it’s your ‘good side’.’’ ‘’Both sides are my ‘good side’,’’ SpongeBob teased, but Squidward was in no mood for jokes. SpongeBob re-positioned himself on the stool and waited for further instruction. Squidward contemplated him for such a long time that SpongeBob grew restless and began to squirm, reaching to scratch a tickle on his nose. ‘’Don’t move!’’ Squidward barked. SpongeBob froze, his hand in mid-air, inches from his nose. ‘’No, I mean,’’ Squidward began, slapping his head. ‘’Forget it. Just lose the hand.’’ Lose his hand? How would he do that? SpongeBob thought for a moment, then an idea entered his head. He then proceeded to pretend to chop off his hand and throw it over his shoulder. ‘’How’s that?’’ he beamed at himself, turning to find Squidward’s approval, but instead he was met with knit brows. ‘’Cut it out. Now just be serious.’’ Serious? Gee, couldn’t Squidward make up his mind? With that, SpongeBob let his hand fall before furrowing his brow and pouting his lips, perhaps a little too much. Squidward sighed. ‘’SpongeBob? What are you doing?’’ In a deep, slow voice, SpongeBob answered, ‘’I’m. Being. Seeeerious.’’ When he saw that Squidward wrinkled his brow, either in confusion or annoyance, it was hard to tell, SpongeBob, reverting to his normal voice, inquired, ‘’No good? How’s this?’’ and he relaxed his mouth into an Abe Lincoln frown, resting his chin in his hand as though he were thinking of something very important. When Squidward didn’t say anything, SpongeBob whispered, ‘’Why so serious?’’ Squidward came over and made him go back to his first position. ‘’Stop playing around. I mean it.’’ But today he didn’t sound angry. No, in fact, he sounded very weary, as though he hadn’t slept all night. SpongeBob suddenly felt remorseful that he was giving Squidward a difficult time, and he tried extra hard not to laugh, he really did, but he couldn’t help it, not if his life depended on it. If this had been the Mayor, he knew he could act appropriately, so he didn’t know why he couldn’t get it together for Squidward. He thought for sure Squidward would scold him to ‘’Grow up!’’ any minute now, as he always did. But Squidward said nothing of the sort. He only stared at SpongeBob in his fit of snickering, then shut him up by grabbing his chin tightly in his hand and sharply turning his face once more. But the action wasn’t hurtful. Yes, Squidward was exhausted, SpongeBob could tell. He wanted to ask him if he had a rough night, but frankly, he couldn’t talk with Squidward’s fingers pressing on each side of his jaw. After a long time, Squidward finally blurted out, ‘’You have a really weird face.’’ SpongeBob giggled, thinking Squidward meant it as a joke, then exclaimed in return, ‘’So do you, Mr. Tennis Balls!’’ But Squidward didn’t hear him. He was lost in his thoughts, studying some part of SpongeBob’s features with those tired middle-aged eyes of his. SpongeBob wanted to think he was looking straight through him but the look in Squidward’s eyes suggested otherwise. It looked as though he weren’t really seeing him, but rather, looking past him. SpongeBob carefully watched as the lines on Squidward’s face grew longer. He wasn’t satisfied with what he was seeing. ‘’Should’ve used your submarine squirrel maiden instead,’’ he told him. ‘’Now that’s  a profile I can work with.’’ It took SpongeBob a moment to realize he meant Sandy. ‘’She’s got a certain Nubian elegance to her,’’ Squidward continued. ‘’If she weren’t a hillbilly, she’d be the Queen of the Nile.’’ In English, that simply meant he found Sandy to be exceptionally beautiful. SpongeBob bit his bottom lip. Squidward was so beat, he probably didn’t grasp what he just said. But to SpongeBob, it was as good as a confession. ‘’I’ll tell her you said that,’’ SpongeBob joked. Again, Squidward didn’t seem to comprehend. He went on, ‘’Your eyes are too dark, almost pupiless. You have an ugly mouth, thin and lopsided, too many freckles on your arms. How does the Mayor expect me to work like this?’’ SpongeBob wasn’t offended. It was true, he had a sideways grin and he always hated his freckles. Amused, he leaned back on the stool. ‘’Anything else you have a problem with?’’ ‘’Well, now that you mention it,’’ Squidward resumed, ‘’You could use some color. You’re deathly pale. And your body—‘’ SpongeBob raised an eyebrow. ‘’What’s wrong with it?’’ ‘’See those little veins sticking out? Right there in the crease of your arm? No, the inside of your elbows. There. That’s terribly unattractive.’’ SpongeBob frowned. He understood then that Squidward wasn’t clowning around. Okay, he could agree on a few things, like his freckles for instance. And he was pasty, no matter how much sun he tried to soak up to little avail. But getting so fussy over barely noticeable veins—something everyone had, including Squidward, particularly in that same exact spot on his arms, was crossing the line a bit. In short, Squidward’s criticisms were a little too on the nose.   ‘’And these knees,’’ Squidward pointed. ‘’If I had knees as shoddy as that, I’d be far too embarrassed to run around in short trousers as you do. Oh, that’s another thing. Your thighs are so thick I’m surprised you haven’t ripped your pants yet. And your ankles. They’re too skinny.’’ Squidward pulled at them, only protected by SpongeBob’s black Vans Sk8-Hi brand, the padded collar which snuggily hugged his ankles. ‘’Wearing those stupid socks with those stupid shoes don’t make it any better. In fact, it makes it worse. Who taught you how to dress anyhow?’’ SpongeBob pursed his lips, but Squidward wasn’t finished. ‘’Your shoulders are far too square. Look, they jut out like an ogre,’’ and here, Squidward gripped him around the shoulders, to demonstrate their faulty ‘’squareness.’’ ‘’What do you expect? I’m a sponge,’’ SpongeBob tried to reason but Squidward just kept talking over him. ‘’And what are all these moles on your neck?’’ ‘’My mother gave me those.’’ ‘’One reason people shouldn’t have children. They pass on their ugly hereditary traits to the poor offspring who has to suffer for it.’’ ‘’I like my ‘moles’,’’ SpongeBob rebutted, but despite this he covered the small spots on his neck, feeling a little embarrassed having been called out for it. ‘’And my mother is pretty. She calls them ‘beauty marks’, not ‘moles’.’’ ‘’Then what does she say about your big ears? They’re as red as coral.’’ ‘’She says—‘’ ‘’That you have a face only a mother can love, that’s what she says.’’ SpongeBob sighed. ‘’Are you through?’’ ‘’Not quite. Don’t get me started on your Adam’s apple. And your red eyebrows clash with your blonde hair. How in the world did that ever happen? Is that a pimple on your chin?’’ Calmly, SpongeBob questioned, ‘’How long have you been scrutinizing me to pick up on all these detailed observations?’’ ‘’Long enough,’’ was Squidward’s blunt answer. At this point, SpongeBob didn’t care if he was deprived of sleep. Maybe it was making him crazy, but SpongeBob also felt that Squidward was awake enough to know what he was saying. ‘’Now I’m in desperate requirement of eye bleach, speaking of which, have you seen it laying around somewhere?’’ In a Suffolk accent, or at least the best one SpongeBob could muster, he smugly said, ‘’Check up your arse, I’m sure it finds the view just lovely.’’ Squidward looked at him sideways, and surprised SpongeBob by not scowling, but smiling. Yes, smiling. Maybe he cracked. Gosh, he really needed to go lie down. ‘’Arse?’’ he echoed softly. ‘’I say ‘ass’, love.’’ (The ‘love’ here was clearly farce, not meant to be a term of fondness.)  ‘’I’m not that English,’’ Squidward added. True, he had been living here long enough. ‘’So tell me,’’ SpongeBob queried, ‘’Is there any part of me that doesn’t need help?’’ ‘’Hm,’’ Squidward chewed on the tip of his pencil, thoughtfully. Even in his drowsy state, he loved a challenge. ‘’Your nose is alright, I suppose,’’ came his honest reply. ‘’Not too prominent, not too small. Just right.’’ SpongeBob let out a sigh of relief. Finally, a compliment and not a remark of— ‘’Except it does looks better on the right profile,’’ Squidward broke into his thoughts. ‘’Your left nostril curves down at a the most unusual angle—‘’ Geez, couldn’t Squidward come off his high sea horse already? ‘’Would it kill you not to get so obsessively analytical?’’ SpongeBob retaliated. ‘’I mean, you’re worse than Sandy.’’ And maybe, SpongeBob thought, that’s why he respected her, but he couldn’t be for certain. ‘’I know you’re an artist and all, but you make it sound like I’m a table. I’m made of flesh and blood, not wood. I’m sorry I’m not perfect—‘’ ‘’I never said that,’’ Squidward protested. ‘’All I said was that you’re little on the strange side.’’ SpongeBob rolled his eyes, not without a little grin. ‘’But Sandy’s just ideal.’’ ‘’SpongeBob, she’s a woman, of course she is.’’ ‘’What’s that got to do with it?’’ SpongeBob grumbled, and then it suddenly dawned on him. Of course, why else would Squidward— SpongeBob grinned wider, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. ‘’You fancy her or something?’’ As he predicted, Squidward’s face turned the deepest shade of red SpongeBob ever thought possible in a man who’s face was usually so colorless. When Squidward saw SpongeBob smirking ear to ear, he snapped, ‘’Will you get your mind out of the gutter? I wouldn’t dream of liking her if she were Adam and I was Eee — er- I- I mean, if s-she were Eve and I-I was...’’ SpongeBob grinned even wider, so wide, Squidward feared the boy’s face would split wide open. ‘’Will you desist in looking at me like that?!’’ Squidward demanded, trying, at all odds, to control his stutter. The complexion of his face had turned from beet red to an eggplant purple and he had to wipe the tiny beads of sweat forming on his brow with his handkerchief. ‘’No, that’s not it, but well, the female form is different, that’s all.’’ SpongeBob could tell he didn’t want to discuss Sandy—and her femininity—any further, but as Squidward delivered those words, at that exact moment, SpongeBob let his eyes wander around Squidward’s studio, and they rested on one of his marble statues—of a male nude, censored only by a mere seashell where his family jewels would be. Then he let his eyes trail over the other displayed pieces, both finished and works in progress. SpongeBob noticed a curious reoccurring theme in all his paintings, sketches, sculptures, etc. Most were self-portraits yes, but the few that weren’t still contained a male subject, usually nude. SpongeBob couldn’t help but wonder, if what Squidward said was true about the female form reigning supreme, how come she was absent in Squidward’s oeuvre? And as much as the artist treasured his late mother, Squidward didn’t even seem to possess one portrait of her (unless SpongeBob accidentally misgendered the painting on that far wall, that he felt positive was Squidward but he could be mistaken. After all, Squidward did look an awful lot like his mother). ‘’And yet,’’ SpongeBob pointed out, although he didn’t meant to say it out loud, ‘’If the female form were so ‘perfect’, as you claim, how come, in all your years of producing art, you’ve never once painted or sculpted a woman?’’ The sound of Squidward’s pencil, still in his mouth, snapping in two, startled them both. ‘’What are you accusing me of?’’ Squidward provoked. He sounded more frightened than upset, for his face turned whiter than SpongeBob’s socks. ‘’I’m not accusing you of anything,’’ SpongeBob responded. He really wasn’t. It was just a candid observation. ‘’I mean, it’s just something I noticed. It’s not a bad thing, Squidward. I mean, some of the world’s most renowned masters only painted men...sometimes both. It didn’t mean anything. I mean, Michelangelo—‘’ ‘’Was in the closet.’’ Squidward said quietly. ‘’What? No, we don’t know that. He was a devout Catholic.’’ ‘’So?’’ ‘’So, his art didn’t say anything about his sexuality. And anyway, ‘queer’ meant something different in the sixteenth century than it does now.’’ ‘’He wrote love sonnets to a 23-year-old he meant when he was fifty-seven.’’ ‘’Sure, but even if he was, historians say he was so melancholy and reclusive that his love life wouldn’t have been very physical. He could express himself through poetry, that’s all. Maybe people read too much into it.’’ When Squidward didn’t look convinced, SpongeBob tried again. ‘’Da Vinci—‘’ ‘’Was accused of sodomy at twenty-four with a notorious male prostitute. It’s also speculated that his young male apprentice who lived with him for over twenty years was probably his lover. In fact, he surrounded himself with beautiful young male assistants.’’ ‘’There weren’t any witnesses. Besides, people were always making anonymous sodomite charges like that during the Renaissance. Didn’t mean they were true.’’ ‘’He never had any known historically documented relationships with women, he never married, never had any children—‘’ ‘’Hey, there’s nothing bad about that.’’ ‘’ — he wrote in his notebooks that male-female intercourse disgusted him—‘’ ‘’Yet he drew anatomical studies of both genders.’’ ‘’Paying more attention to the male anatomy.’’ ‘’Squidward, stop! You’re missing the point.’’ Squidward flashed a cold gaze in his direction. ‘’No, I think you made your point.’’ ‘’No, look! Um...’’ and SpongeBob had to think of one painter who wasn’t gay or rumored to be gay. ‘’Francisco De Goya.’’   ‘’What about him?’’ Squidward moaned. ‘’He painted lots of guys. And women, too.’’ ‘’Not male nudes, SpongeBob, only women, and anyway he was a court painter, often commissioned by the royal family to paint their portraits, the King, Queen, their children, whoever.’’ ‘’Yeah, but you forget when he started painting the Peninsular War—‘’ ‘’I didn’t forget,’’ Squidward groaned, rubbing his tired eyes. ‘’—soldiers and people getting killed. Mostly guys.’’ ‘’Political art. Again, not nudes.’’ ‘’I wasn’t just talking about nudes.’’ ‘’Would it humor you if I said—‘’ ‘’Ugh!’’ SpongeBob threw up his hands. ‘’Don’t say it! Look, everyone and their grandmother is speculated to be gay, alright? What the heck do people know? Someone writes a letter or something to someone: ‘I like you so much, we suit each other so well, gee come see me sometime, let’s hang out, man, take a thousand embraces! Let me draw a penis at the end of this letter while I’m at it!’ Oh my goodness, he must be gay. If they were, big deal, but who cares about the sex lives of some old dead guys?’’ Squidward blinked, quietly listening to SpongeBob’s theatrical display, then said, ‘’Yet funny how you brought Da Vinci and Michelangelo into the conversation first. You could have at least mentioned Van Gogh, because although it’s rumored he had stormy love affairs with men, too, at one point, I’d be willing to agree with you because at least like him, the body of my male work contains self portraits, a fact you fail to realize.’’ No, SpongeBob hadn’t dismissed this. ‘’Squid,’’ he said, ‘’You’re taking this too far, all I said was—‘’ Squidward strode back to his easel, gripping his broken pencil in both hands. ‘’No, this conversation’s over. All the Old Masters were gay, rest your case, I get it. Gee, why doesn’t Squidward paint a woman for once? I’m not going to answer that. Maybe someday I will. Maybe I already have and you just don’t know it. Maybe my masterpiece will be a portrait of Sandy, geez, I dunno, SpongeBob. And believe me, I wouldn’t be sculpting you unless the Mayor hadn’t commissioned me in the first place. Do you think I’m enjoying this? No, it’s the worst assignment I’ve ever gotten. I wouldn’t paint you or sculpt you if you were the last person on Earth!’’ He threw down his pencil, which was now useless. But his fury dissipated quickly. He was just too fatigued to stay mad or really give an honest damn, and calmly he said, ‘’But if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do this right. So you’re just going to sit there like a good little boy and not move a finger and I don’t want to hear a peep out of you, got it?’’ SpongeBob obediently nodded but Squidward misinterpreted this as insolent and affixed, ‘’Look, I don’t like it anymore than you, but might as well get this over with. We’ve already wasted precious time flapping our jaws about trivial topics. The Mayor wants this done by Friday. I can finish the preliminary sketches tonight if you just cooperate.’’ SpongeBob remained as still and as quiet as a mouse while Squidward prepared. After awhile, Squidward muttered, ‘’I’d change those shabby clothes of yours if I had a choice but the Mayor wanted you in the same tattered outfit you climbed that mountain in.’’ SpongeBob didn’t say anything. He just stared ahead of him, finding some spot of interest on the wall, which wasn’t much to look at, but he refused to make eye contact with Squidward, who eventually grew bored of the silence. ‘’You can talk if you want, just don’t move your head,’’ he invited, but SpongeBob had nothing to say. Squidward didn’t ask him again after that. The only sound that broke the silence was the loud sketching of Squidward’s pencil scraping against his canvas pad. An hour or two passed before SpongeBob did think of something to say. He was vaguely reminded of the act he put on in the Mayor’s office yesterday when she perceived him as immature. ‘’When did your parents stop treating you like a kid?’’ Squidward didn’t hesitate to answer, nor did he ask why SpongeBob brought it up. Without removing his eyes from his easel, he replied, dryly, ‘’When my father left, and my mother died.’’ SpongeBob felt a pain of pity tearing at his insides. He was sorry he asked. He decided to keep his thoughts to himself and left Squidward alone to work through the uncomfortable silence. He worked through the afternoon until he had enough grand designs prepared. SpongeBob arched his spine, growing fidgety from the pain in his back for having to sit up straight for so long, and Squidward relieved him by saying, ‘’Alright, you’re free to go.’’ Finally! SpongeBob stretched his muscles, glad to be able to move again. ‘’You’re done?’’ He rubbed his neck, which was now sore and didn’t even notice that Squidward had approached him. ‘’Yeah. You can go home,’’ Squidward answered. ‘’Can I see?’’ SpongeBob eagerly crossed his legs, trying to look as cute as possible so that Squidward would unveil his rough work. It didn’t move him in the slightest. ‘’Nice try,’’ Squidward shook his head. ‘’Maybe tomorrow. I’d rather you not look yet.’’ SpongeBob pouted, but he crossed his fingers, hoping he would have something to look forward to the next day. As he was about to jump off his stool, the most peculiar thing happened. He felt Squidward bend down slightly and kiss him very delicately on the cheek. SpongeBob didn’t know why but he supposed it was Squidward’s way of apologizing which he readily accepted. ‘’You’re still ugly, except for your nose,’’ he heard Squidward say, but SpongeBob knew what he really meant was, ‘’I’m sorry for being so tough on you.’’ SpongeBob shrugged with a grin. ‘’It’s okay, Squid, I’m used to it. And I want you to know I didn’t mean you were Michelangelo.’’ Squidward smirked. ‘’Why not? He was a great painter and sculptor. I’m honored you compare me to him, gay or not.’’ SpongeBob shook his head. ‘’You’re more like Van Gogh.’’ ‘’Not yet. I still got both ears,’’ and with that Squidward nudged him off the stool and playfully shoved him to the door. On SpongeBob’s way out though, Squidward caught him around the back of his neck and whispered in his ear, ‘’Maybe next time I’ll paint you naked like Raphael’s cherubs.’’ SpongeBob’s whole face from his neck to his ears glowed like a fire but then Squidward laughed and slapped him on the back. ‘’I’m just kidding!’’ and before SpongeBob could turn to look at him, he felt Squidward push him out the door, which closed behind him with a thud. He stood in shock on Squidward’s stoop for a few moments before he slowly walked home. He wish he could say whether Squidward was only joking or not, but he knew Squidward was not one to lead him on. If he said he was kidding, he probably meant it. As SpongeBob turned the handle on his door, he stopped as a smirk crept onto his lips. Who knows? Maybe Squidward wasn’t kidding after all.                                                                   Fin

Promises (Smut)

MASTERLIST

Request: Can you do a smut where Shawns on tour and him and his girlfriend traditionally have post-concert sex but she hasn’t been with him for the last few concerts so she surprises him after a concert and they have rough/passionate sex in the dressing room

Word count: 2,825

Promises (Smut) 

“Hey Geoff, it’s y/n” I said, after pressing on Geoff’s number on my phone.

“Hey, did you land already?”

“Yes, I’m on my way to the venue now, I’ll take a couple hours though”

“It’s fine, you’ll surprise Shawn after the concert” Geoff told me, which made me smile widely.

“He still doesn’t have any idea?”

“Nope, he’s going to freak out when he sees you”

“I can’t wait, I’ll see you later” I said, before hanging up.

I felt a tickle run through my veins, just thinking about seeing Shawn soon. I leaned back in the seat in the taxi, closing my eyes, thinking of Shawn’s dark, lovely eyes.

Shawn had been touring for a while and usually I’d go with him, but I had been buried in exams, so I’d stayed home for a while trying to get some work done.

I missed him so much, I barely couldn’t breathe. I looked out the window of the car, watching the airport fade slowly away.

It would take at least two hours to get to stadium where Shawn was performing tonight, but I should be there in time to hear it. My phone vibrated and I was pulled away from my thoughts.

“Hey you” I said, as a wide smile spread when I picked up the phone.

“Hey baby” Shawn said, his voiced filled with love. Though I couldn’t see him, I knew he was smiling widely.

“What’s up?” I asked, biting my lip.

“Nothing much, getting ready for the show. Missing you massively” He said, as his voice died off.

Oh, my little muffin top, if you only knew I was on my way.

“I miss you too, baby”

“How’s the studying going?” Shawn asked, trying to hide the fact that he was feeling down. Knowing I’d be able to see him in a while, I let him change the topic.

“Well, it’s going I guess… I think my brain might have had a meltdown, but other than that, great!” I said sarcastically, sighting heavily. Shawn laughed at the other end, making my heart crumble.

“Hey! Some of us actually has to take an education, you know”

“As long as that someone is you” He joked back, making me roll my eyes at him.

“You’re such a dork”

“I’m your dork and you love it” He mocked me. I could almost see that smug, he’d put on his face by now.

“Yeah, I kinda do” I admitted, because honestly, I did.

He was my little, jokingly, at times childish, but very sweet dork. Our conversation died off and I could hear Shawn sight slightly in the background. It almost broke my heart in two.

I fought whether or not to tell him I was on my way, but I just really wanted to surprise him. It would make it all that better.

“Hey, Shawn. Cheer up” I mumbled to him.

“I just really miss you, darling”

“I know, me too. But soon baby, soon”

“Like a fucking month”

No babe, just a couple more hours.

“Yeah, but then I’ll be all yours” I whispered back. I heard Shawn rasp in the phone. I bit my lip by the sound leaking from his lips.

“You know what I really miss?” He asked, playfully. Mood swings much.

“What?” I gasped back.

“Rough and sweaty post-concert sex”

“Shawn!” I hissed back at him, embarrassed.

I gazed up at the driver, but he didn’t seem to take notice of our conversation. But still, my cheeks blushed terrible at Shawn’s words.

“In every dressing room, all over the world” He said calmly.

I heard him slowly rasp, before licking his lips. I bit mine, feeling the heat raise in my body.

“I like that too” I whispered back to him.

“I wish you were here, so I could touch you and kiss you and-“

“Fuck me?” I whispered back to him, covering my mouth.

“So hard baby, so fucking hard” Shawn mumbled, more or less setting my body on fire. My hand grabbed around the seat in the car, pressing my fingers tightly down in the fabric.

“Is that a promise?” I dared him, feeling the desire creep in on me in waves.

I could almost feel Shawn’s warm, soft lips on my neck, kissing that exact spot, he knew I loved.

“Yes babe, that’s a fucking promise” He teased back.

Shawn never really cussed much, but when he was turned on, he did nothing but cuss. It turned me on to hear it, honestly.

Shawn was the most amazing person ever; so gentle and honest, but when it came to sex, he’d loosen up and become a bit rougher. I loved it.

“I can’t wait” I whispered back. My voice was so rasp, but could hardly hear my words.

“I swear to god, the second I see you again, I’m kidnapping you”

“Kidnapping me?”

“Yeah, locking you inside my hotel room and keeping you there until I’m done with you”

“Sounds like a threat” I joked back at him.

“Isn’t it?” He teased back. I bit my lip, biting the tip of my finger.

“Not when I’m planning on doing the same to you” I whispered, rashly. I wasn’t quite sure, but maybe, just maybe, a little moan slipped out of his lips.

“Fuck baby” Was all Shawn managed to get out.

I liked how I could make him feel, how I could make him want me like this. But then again, he had the same affection on me.

My cheeks were red and damp, my skin was burning and all my desires screamed out for Shawn’s touch.

I heard Shawn chat with someone, who had probably just walked into where he was, before he turned his attention to my voice on the phone.

“I need to go baby, sound check”

“Sure love, good luck tonight”

“Thanks baby, thought, I don’t really need luck on the show, I need luck to get rid of this fucking boner you’ve given me” Shawn’s words made me laugh, shaking my head lightly.

“It’s not funny, I swear, I have sound check in ten” He said, desperately.

“Well, you could always just walk out there now” I teased him.

“Hi I’m Shawn Mendes and music really does turn me own”

“They would love it, baby. You know they would”

“Oh shut up!” He said, but I couldn’t help myself. I laughed even louder.

“Hanging up now!” He warned me, not finding this funny at all.

“Okay, okay. Love you baby and oh, good luck to the both of you” I said, once again laughing widely.

“Okay, bye” He said annoyed, but he didn’t hang up the phone.

“Why aren’t you hanging up?”

“Because I wanted to say I love you too, but that didn’t really go well with my dramatic bye” He said, making me smile widely.

“You’re such a fucking goof”

“I love you too” He said, probably rolling his eyes at me, but then hanging up.

How I loved this person more, than I would ever be able to explain. I leaned back in the seat, looking out the window on the street passing me by, as I closed my eyes. Soon, I would be able to kiss Shawn again, to hold him and feel him and love him. I couldn’t wait for that.

“Shit guys, that was so awesome! We rocked” Shawn said, high-fiving the entire crew.

You could still hear the crowd screaming loudly, though, they had played the last song.

Shawn’s hair was wet and sweaty, his little curls sticking to his forehead. His face was red, damp and looked burning, though he had a massive smile painted on his lips, like he always had right after a show.

His smile was also so pure in this moment, every time, you knew, just how much he loved this. Shawn was sweating and had sweat through his black t-shirt, but I found that even sexier.

I waited patiently for him to notice I was here. All the guys looked at him, sending him funny faces.

“What? What’s going on?” Shawn shrugged confused at them.

“Well, nothing much” I said, catching his eyes.

If possible, Shawn’s massive smile grew even bigger and his mouth were gaping wide open.

“What?! NO WAY!” He yelled confused, before running up to me.

I barely got to move, before he’d wrapped his strong arms around my waist and kissed me passionately.

His kiss took me by surprise and it made me feel foggy tasting his sweetness. When breaking the kiss, Shawn just hugged me tightly. So tightly, I felt my shirt getting wet from his sweat, I didn’t mind it thought.

“I’ve missed you so much” He whispered in my ear, making a smile grow.

“Me too, you have no idea how much” I whispered back, letting my fingers run through his sticky hair.

“Get a fucking room already” Geoff yelled, forcing us to step apart. My cheeks turned red and I bit my lips embarrassed.

“Shut up” Shawn yelled back, planting a tender kiss on the top of my hair.

The other guys walked out back, probably grabbing a beer to cool down and stuff. When they were out of our sight, Shawn grabbed my hand and pulled me with him. He was walking so fast, I stumbled over my own feet.

“Shawn, wait, I can’t keep up” I laughed, half running behind him.

“I can solve that problem” He smirked, grabbed around me and pulled my feet up from the ground.

“Shawn!” I yelled at him, but it just made him smile even wider.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m kidnapping you” He said, raising his eyebrow at me. I bit my lip, remembering our phone call.

“Oh” I rasped.

“Oh, yes baby. I’m not the one to break my promises”

“But won’t they notice we’re gone?”

“Who fucking cares” Shawn was walking rather fast and determent.  

We approached his dressing room, he kicked the door open and locked it behind us. Only now, letting me get my feet on the floor again.

We looked at each other shortly, just smiling, knowing what was about to happen. It left my body feeling tender. Shawn gently grabbed my hand, leading it up to his lips. He planted damp kisses on it, the desire shining out of his eyes.

“I’ve missed touching your hand-“ He started, pulling me closer to him.

“Stroking your face” He whispered, letting his thumb slide across my burning cheek. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to feel his touch fully.

“And your lips” He rasped, tilting my head back. Our lips were only inches apart, I felt Shawn’s breaths against them.

“Kiss me” I whispered, craving his lips on mine.

Shawn leaned down and closed the tiny crack between our lips, greedily, meeting mine. My hands found Shawn’s neck and I pulled him further into the kiss, as my tongue opened his mouth and entered. It made him gasp inside my mouth.

I bit his lip eagerly, sucking on it roughly, before letting go again. Our eyes met and Shawn’s dark gaze fell on me.

He looked at me for a second or two, letting his nose brush against mine. He wanted to say something, but decided not to.

“Don’t you have a promise to keep?” I breathed, as a smirk spread on his face.

“Oh yes, I certainly do” He said, daring me.

He pushed me up against the wall in the dressing room, tilting my head back, before letting his wet tongue run down my neck. His movement gave me chills.

Pressing himself against me, I felt his length grow bigger and bigger, leaving my mouth feeling utterly dry.

Shawn’s hands ran down my body, exploring every inch, like he’d forgotten what it felt like to touch me. It left me trembling, craving his teasingly touches even more.

With his foot, Shawn kicked his guitar away from the floor surrounding us, before he pulled me down with him to lay there.

Shawn wanted to take control, but I pushed his chest down, letting myself sit on his stomach. His wide eyes glazed up at me, watching desirably as I undressed myself. 

Thank god, I chose to wear a dress tonight.

It was quick to get off and I didn’t know how much longer I could wait. After throwing the dress on the floor next to us, Shawn’s hands ran up my body and behind my back, quickly, he slid my bra of me.

“You’re so breath-taking” He whispered, allowing his hands to play with my tender boobs.

I threw my head back in pleasure, moaning at his fingers on my chest. I unbuttoned his pants quickly and Shawn kicked them off his legs.

Grabbing the hem of the sweaty t-shirt, he shortly after reviled his trained chest to me. I bended down, placing damp kisses all over him. He grabbed my hair, pulling hard, as I sucked on his sweaty skin.

Shawn tried holding back a whimper, but he failed at it. His hands were rubbing all sort of places on my naked body, leaving it quivering and craving more.

I reached down between his legs, feeling how hard and ready he was. Shawn’s lips were whimpering by my touch.

“Just fuck me already” He begged me, completely out of breath.

I bended over, kissing him shortly, before pushing myself down his length. Shawn clenched his teeth, biting his lip, harshly.

The pleasure was to find all over his face, it made me smile. I swayed my back, before I started moving up and down him.

Roughly, Shawn grabbed my hips, holding me to move even faster and even harder. Our breathing became strained and I was gasping for air, while the warm and tickly sense from feeling Shawn inside me rushed over my heavy body.

Shawn’s eyes were glued on me, watching me adore the pleasure he was clearly giving me. It seemed to make him even hornier.

I let my fingers cares his burning face, closing my eyes and being consumed by Shawn. He grabbed my finger with his mouth, sucking hard on it. I moaned loudly. I bended down to kiss him again.

Shawn’s fingers intervened in my damp hair, tugging in it roughly. It hurt, but it hurt in such a way, I loved feeling the pain. Shawn’s hips smashed against mine, allowing every inch of him to fill me out. It was rough, sweaty and feeling good as hell.

Shawn’s nails grabbed into my skin, as he tried not screaming loudly so people could hear. I picked up the pace, riding him even harder than before.

This time, Shawn couldn’t hold back, so he screamed rowdily. He grabbed my neck coarsely, pulling me down to his face.

“Kiss me while I cum” He breathed, struggling with his breathing.

I crashed them into his burning lips, using all the power I had left, riding him harder. Shawn grabbed around my hips, helping me to move better against him.

We were both reaching our breaking points, so Shawn pushed up his lower body and came inside me, while biting my lip hard.

He collapsed on the floor next to me, resting his hand on his chest. We both had to regain strength to even focus on each other again. Shawn had left my body drained and numb, but I loved the feeling. He rolled to his side, giving my cheek a tender kiss.

I let my hand cross his damp cheek, rubbing his lips gently. He kissed it quickly. The way Shawn looked at me right now, honestly made my heart crumbled. His eyes were filled with love and all that love, was for me only.

“I needed that so much” He breathed, exhausted. I smiled at him, stroking his bare arms.

“Me too” I whispered back at him.

He pulled me into his chest, feeling our burning skin against each other’s. His breathing was still strained and his heart was racing madly. Wrapped his arms around me, he kissed my neck.

“As much as I love our post-concert sex tradition, I love this even more” He said, nuzzling his noise down in my hair.

“What?” I whispered back.

“Lying here, with you in my arms, knowing you’re mine” Shawn whispered back to me.

“I always will be, you know that”

“I do, it’s what makes me the happiest guy on earth” He whispered back. My smile grew at his words and my heart swelled.

This dork right here, he was a keeper, no doubt about that. I was truly blessed and I hoped Shawn knew it was all because of him.

Because no matter how much I tried to explain it to him, I simply just couldn’t. Words weren’t enough and I just had to accept that sometimes, you can’t explain, what it is you see in a person. It’s just the way they take you to a place, where no one else can.