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stillness-in-green · 2 years

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Chapter Thoughts: 373 — Friends

Thank you all, as always, for your patience. As I said previously, I had some cruds catch up with me, on top of holidays and house guests, so between those and work, it’s been rather some while since I’ve had the time and energy for dedicated post writing. But here’s this, finally! And since the next chapter is much more scattered around in multiple places, it should be easier to write about.

As to this chapter, I’ve decided, rather than breaking it down chronologically or by broad topic, to cover it one character at a time, since this chapter more than many really is about the interplay of characters.

Hit the jump!

On Pig-Nose Guy

Taken strictly as-written, he’s got a pretty good head on his shoulders. As many people have said, attacking a hospital under the auspices of a leadership of a known terrorist is the most desperate kind of play, the heteromorphs are doubtlessly underinformed and, as of this chapter, are being openly told not to think. The fact that he doesn’t give into his emotions in those circumstances is admirable! Still, I can’t help but think I’d have preferred to see him ask questions of his own leadership, rather than trusting the judgment of a teenage hero student who—like Deku in his bad faith bargaining with Overhaul—has no authority to speak for Hero Society at large.

Also too, it remains tiresome that he and the others are only asking these questions just now, instead of back when they were first told that they were going to be attacking a hospital. This is especially the case given the weird inconsistency between pig-nose guy saying he couldn’t bring himself to hurt the people in the hospital and the gaping absence of anyone asking him to hurt the people in the hospital. Maybe Scarecrow would have tried to goad them into that eventually or it was something they were told to do in advance, but if either of those is the case, we certainly never saw evidence of it on the page, which keeps his dilemma here from ringing completely true.

I do quite like the evocativeness with which he’s drawn. As ever, Hori’s art is great, especially his expressions, even when his narrative decisions are being underwhelming-to-infuriating.

On Scarecrow

Christ, I hate the way Horikoshi insists on giving the MLA these awful little extra cruelties to make them worse than they need to be, as if, “Militant antisocial terrorist cult,” isn’t bad enough. I could deal with the “meant to bring about our supremacy” bit—that’s not new rhetoric for MLA types—but am considerably more exasperated with “mighty meat shield.”

Like, guys, that’s just not how the MLA think of their rank and file. Yes, they prioritize their leadership, always have, so it’s not that I mind as such that Scarecrow would think of the civilians as ultimately expendable. But the key is that the MLA view such deaths as honorable, as important martyrdom to reach their goals. They don’t and never have treated their people as “meat shields” in the derisive, callous sense that that term implies.

Again, look back at this sequence from Chapter 329:

Does this sound like someone who doesn’t deeply believe in the orders he’s being given and the person he’s being told to lift up? There’s no reason to portray this guy as a bad actor. An extremist, absolutely, but thinking so explicitly about the manipulation of the civilians’ opinions just makes it sound like he wants power for its own sake, and that’s never been the MLA’s bag.

I’m particularly annoyed with Horikoshi having Scarecrow think of Shouji as an octopus, which feels akin not just to a minority thinking of another member of his group as [relevant derisive slur], but to putting that thought in the head of someone who wears the mantle of an activist, a student of history, someone who can speak passionately and eloquently of the rightness of his cause. Scarecrow should know better than this, and portraying him as falling back on this dehumanizing language for his own kind is just another thing that makes him feel like he’s operating in bad faith, making him an even more strawman-ish depiction of someone who’s already set up as a violent radical.

…All of which makes it even more strange that a nameless hero apologizes directly to him. Which is a pleasant surprise!

On the one hand, I like a lot that even someone who Horikoshi is making some effort to portray as not-genuine still gets a straightforward, genuine apology. In principle, I’m in favor of that, because I strongly believe that even villains who are acting in bad faith deserve to be treated humanely and have their issues recognized—and regardless of what else we can say about him, Scarecrow does have a huge scar on his head that’s implicitly a result of anti-heteromorph violence. Further, for Horikoshi’s plot here to land, it is important for heroes—not just students, but adult members of the system—to acknowledge that the heteromorphs have a legitimate grievance.

On the other hand, it does also still feel a bit like farming out apologies and weaknesses to nameless nobodies because god forbid any of the characters the audience has been encouraged to like be acknowledged as having flaws or biases. It’s one of BNHA’s long-running issues that Horikoshi has this big system he wants to critique but, with the exception of characters like Bakugou and Endeavor, whose whole arcs are founded on personal improvement, he’s uncomfortable letting sympathetic and/or popular characters meaningfully reflect that flawed system.

As a result, we get stuff like last chapter’s apology for perpetuating heteromorphobic microaggressions coming from Mineta instead of Sero, no shallow fame-chasing students ever folding from the pressure and dropping out, the immense wishy-washiness of any critique of All Might, and, inversely, the facile resolutions of thorny issues like the traitor plot, the HPSC’s corruption, Izumi Kouta’s hatred of heroes, or, here, the idea of heteromorphic discrimination.

On Shouji/The Resolution

This continues to be a desperately wanting resolution. Shouji still holds up this idea that heteromorphs can change the minds of bigots by just acting cool and admirable enough when his own backstory should have taught him that there is no such threshold. Bigots cannot be made to be ashamed of their bigotry, Shouji! They will find ways to justify it; they will hide it if it looks to be socially unacceptable and then talk openly about it when they think they’re among people of like mind; they will react with resentment when called out.

And like, I do believe that bigots can change, and some of the examples I’m aware of are a credit to the actions of a person the bigot had hated, but those examples are all the more remarkable for their rarity. It cannot be the default and ongoing responsibility of the oppressed to Nobly Endure until bigots change their minds, to risk their own safety just to win approval from those who hate them. That’s what Shouji’s answer here says, though, and it’s frankly unconscionable.

And it’s such a bizarre chain of events! Like, Shouji was just telling Spinner that this attack was going to set heteromorphs back thirty years, but now he’s saying the rioters are a shining light? He was (baselessly) castigating them for showing up without a plan, but now he’s saying that the feelings that drove them to show up were neither useless nor wrong?

Are we to believe that protests have never happened before? So either heteromorphs have been quiet and stoic and noble about this for generations and in exchange they’ve gotten infamous historical massacres and highly conditional semi-safety in sufficiently large cities while still suffering dehumanization and increased rates of criminality, or they have protested before but feel that their needs have been ignored. When Rando The Hero apologizes to Scarecrow for never having realized heteromorphs were in such dire straits, which are we to believe is the explanation: that he never saw because they never spoke up, or he never saw because he wasn’t looking?

When Shouji tells them they look like a shining light, it recalls Scarecrow’s dialogue about how heteromorphs were never illuminated and would have to become their own light—but who exactly is to be credited for kindling that light? Shouji tells them the feelings that drove them to come weren’t wrong, but we know that the MLA were working behind the scenes to stoke indignation and hurt up to the tipping point—what Scarecrow this week refers to as radicalizing these peoples’ passion.

So like… This all seems like it never would have come about without Skeptic and Scarecrow and even Spinner and all the rest’s hard work. So what’s going to happen to them, the people who enabled this change, in the end? Do the nice and good victims who stood down before they went too far get embraced, while the people who drove them to be noticed get thrown in prison and forgotten about?

There’s this weird dynamic in the series where heroes and Hero Society ignore the problems their society has—sweep them under the rug, as Shigaraki put it—so insistently that change requires people willing to Go Too Far, like villains. Then, when villains do exactly that, heroes are like, “You may have legitimate grievances, but you’re Going Too Far.” Yes! Because that’s what it takes to make “the good guys” pay attention!!

So what happens after this? Do the agitators get put in prison while everyone else is just free to walk away? What about the dozens and dozens of people who’ve already been rounded up and restrained? Do they just get to walk? Or are they going to prison too, for all that their feelings were totes correct, because they were captured before they had a chance to either press on or stand down? (This, incidentally, takes us right back to the difficulties in dealing with an underground army—how do heroes on the ground know who’s a radicalized civilian and who’s a member of the PLF?)

So that’s all the usual headache-inducing platitudes. There is one positive thing about all this that I want to talk about as well, though: the outcome of Shouji fighting while also talking. I said it about Mirio a while back, and it applies here too, for all that it got lost in my deep frustration with the content of Shouji’s words: it is possible to carry on a dialogue while still defending oneself and others.(1)

Consider how this would have gone down if Shouji hadn’t been here. Rock Lock thinks—in a moment that very clearly illustrates the current dilemma—that all the rest of the hero side could do was defend themselves by force. That fits the current hero modus operandi, which the students have, up until now, been playing into. Presumably, left to their own devices, the heroes and police would have either eventually hit a morale tipping point that broke the crowd, who would have been captured or fled with their resentment unaddressed, or the crowd would have overwhelmed them, freeing Kurogiri and cementing themselves as villains.

This makes Shouji—a pivotal figure as the tides of battle shift and we move into a new stage—a potentially very significant model for how the conflict resolutions from here on out are going to look.

A huge number of Hero Stan types disregard this strategy, which is why we’re all so frequently subjected to those tiresome, “Well, the villains were trying to kill people; do you expect heroes to just stand back and let them?” false equivalencies. Here, though, Shouji provides a sterling example of how to engage with villains in good faith: defend as much you need to while keeping the conversation going as long as you can, in the hopes that eventually a breakthrough/understanding can be reached. That’s the whole point of the Shonen Jump talk-no-jutsu trick.

I don’t buy Shouji’s message here by any means, but the manner in which he delivers it is unimpeachable.

On Mic

I love Mic being the ruthless one of the Rooftop Trio; I really do. It’s been very entertaining to watch the telephone game of Realist Mic Fans talking about how this was totally predictable and only Fanon Mic Fans are surprised by it. ‘Cause it’s 100% true; Mic’s always had those undertones, which were really what set him and Shirakumo apart despite their surface personas being fairly similar. Look no further than Mic’s reaction to the traitor reveal!

That said, predictable or not—and the set-up was always there for it to be Spinner carrying the day here, not Mic—it really does hit deliciously hard. My favorite part is that Mic never actually opens his mouth to call to Shirakumo himself—not this chapter, at least. All his thoughts and pleas for Shirakumo are strictly internal;(2) externally, he’s winding up to unleash his quirk again.

An aside: The one quibble I have with this scene is that it’s legit unclear to me who Mic is winding up to attack here. He’s very obviously prepared to kill Kurogiri if it comes to that—indeed, his internal monologue suggests that his killing Kurogiri was even a part of the plan here, albeit only as a last resort.(3) However, he also says that was only on the table if it looked like Kurogiri was about to be taken back. He explicitly notes that Spinner is down, though, and he’s already seen that Spinner’s alone, so who is he even worried about taking Kurogiri at this point? Why attack Kurogiri when the main threat has already been neutralized?

So is he attacking Spinner, then, to make sure he stays down? That seems a bit beyond the pale even for the most ruthless member of his group, doesn’t it? And even if he were willing to go that far, an attack on Spinner doesn’t seem consistent with where his gaze is focused—aimed forward rather than down and to his right—and is even less consistent with his train of thought about Shirakumo fading away and leaving only good memories.(4)

As it is, it reads like Mic is already telling himself to execute Kurogri to prevent even the possibility, now or in the future, of Kurogiri regaining consciousness and making a decision Mic doesn’t approve of. That’s very Plus Ultra of you, Mic, but like, in a really bad way.

Anyway.

Compare Mic’s silence to Spinner, who openly begs Kurogiri to save Shigaraki, and we have yet another scene that beautifully illustrates the tendency of heroes to embrace stoic self-denial even at the cost of their personal bonds for the greater good, while villains utterly reject questions of big-picture morality in favor of embracing/preserving the things and people they personally value.

On Spinner/The Final Hand

Man, I didn’t like Cook’s rendering of Spinner’s patchy dialogue as caveman-speak, but at least it made clear that Spinner’s thinking was irregular. Here, comparing to the raws, you can still see the irregular kana usage throughout, but the official release portrays his thinking as largely clearing up once he gets all the scales blown off and shrinks back down to his normal size. The sentences are fragmentary, but that could be read as a result of him being semi-conscious. More importantly, “I” is back in his dialogue (“All I wanted” rather than e.g. “Me just wanted”) and his verb usage gets more regular. That’s all to say, the official release makes it look like Spinner’s mentality stabilized in a way that doesn’t seem to match the raws. Frustrating to get my hopes up like that!

Anyway, there’s been a certain amount of discourse getting around about whether Spinner’s crutching on The Hand for Shigaraki and now Kurogiri is good or bad, whether Spinner’s feelings for Shigaraki are leading him to make decisions that are bad for both of them, to what degree Spinner cares or should care about heteromorphic discrimination and so on, and I just want to say that I’m in total agreement with @codenamesazanka and @robotlesbianjavert’s takes on the matter, as can be read in multiple posts. These posts put it all so well I don’t particularly feel the need to retread it at length.

To be succinct: Spinner is doing the best he can from a position of limited information, and dinging him because he’s, what, prolonging the amount of time Shigaraki spends away from the miraculous saving light of Deku’s good intentions? Fuck that; Deku doesn’t even have the courage of his convictions to speak them aloud, and even saying them to the people in his head, the best he could muster was, “I want to try.” Nothing he’s done so far has earned him a right to the League’s trust.

There is one aspect of that I want to talk about specifically that I haven’t seen discussed elsewhere, which is the Spinner-Stain-Deku angle. To wit, I once theorized that Spinner would be a key person in Deku’s drive to save Shigaraki because a) Spinner has the clearest understanding of Shigaraki as a regular person, whereas Deku’s limited exposure had only allowed him to see The Crying Child and The Symbol of Fear, and b) Spinner defended Deku that one time during the training camp attack on the grounds that Stain declared him worthy. I thought Spinner’s action at that time might later give them enough common ground to recognize each other as having good intentions, enough space to at least tentatively open a dialogue, and advance their common goal of Helping Shigaraki from there.

It’s looking less likely now, mostly because of Spinner’s eroded mentality meaning he doesn’t have the ability to carry on a conversation with Deku right now about Shigaraki. That’s not the entirety of the reason, though.

Firstly, there’s the issue of Spinner’s loyalties. He was only cosplaying at being a Stain devotee to begin with, and has cultivated a much more deeply felt loyalty to Shigaraki, who, last Spinner heard, explicitly wants Midoriya Izuku dead. New leader, new directive.

Secondly, there’s the problem that even if Spinner were inclined to give Deku the benefit of the doubt originally, so far as he can see, Deku has done nothing but align himself with the hero status quo, and particularly with Endeavor’s status quo. Endeavor, who Stain condemned, and who Spinner’s own teammate revealed to be an abusive monster, the worst kind of person imaginable to be hiding behind the mask of a hero. Endeavor, who contributed to Shigaraki being in such a state at Jakku that Spinner was driven to use The Hand to begin with! Deku has given exactly zero sign that Spinner would be aware of that he’s willing to treat Shigaraki any differently than the hero establishment would, so what basis does Spinner have to entrust Shigaraki to him?

Both in terms of a Spinner who decides things based on who he's following and a Spinner who decides things based on the evidence of his own eyes, Deku fails coming and going.

Anyway, I still think it would be good to somehow get back to Spinner as a bridge between Shigaraki and Deku, because Deku saving Shigaraki based on nothing but his empathy for The Crying Child is desperately insufficient to truly address all the problems Shigaraki Tomura represents, but that’s a good deal more up in the air at this point, so I guess we’ll see how it goes.

As far as The Hand is concerned, I really do wonder if we’re starting to see its symbolism shift somewhat. Like, yes, yes, it is a concrete reminder of everything AFO raised Shigaraki to be, that’s all true. But it’s this hand, too:

Nana, who wanted to save her son, wants Deku to save her grandson, and wants Shigaraki to not forget the boy he used to be—it’s her hand. Carried by Spinner, the person who loves Shigaraki the most, extended beseechingly to Kurogiri, the one who protects Shigaraki Tomura, the one who “cannot abandon others.”

Just saying, there’s a lot packed into that hand that AFO didn’t put there. Letting him be the only authority on its symbolism is kind of letting him make the rules, isn’t it? He isn’t the only one who gets to decide what things mean, and believing otherwise is just ceding him control of the narrative.

We even have a prior example of this in One For All: what began as a play to bring Yoichi under AFO’s control instead grew, through Yoichi’s desires and those of the people OFA was passed to, into a power meant to bring AFO down. Eventually, even that purpose was eclipsed by All Might and Deku’s desires to use that power to save people. The Final Hand, while much more gruesome, could go the same way in terms of it being utilized in ways counter to what AFO intended.

On Kurogiri

Kurogiri strikes me as being in a potentially crucial position, and not merely for his ability to disrupt the heroes’ plans, which up to this point looked like there were going to lead to nothing but yet another rotation in the cycle of Hero Society sweeping all its problems under the rug until something rancid causes an eruption.

No, the more important thing with Kurogiri is that he’s in an even better position than Spinner to provide a bridge between the hero and the villain sides at large. Spinner may have the better vantage point on Shigaraki as he’s developed over the course of the series, but Spinner’s pretty locked into the position of villain and victim; he’s never once been on the right/light side of Hero Society.

Kurogiri, if you assume that he’s become something of an amalgamated existence (reflecting his use of ore rather than watashi this chapter) has lived in both worlds. As Shirakumo, he has all the memories of an idealistic hero with a good upbringing, solid bonds and a stable place in society. As Kurogiri, he’s had plenty of exposure to the social deprivation, systemic bias and manipulative wickedness that creates villains. There's no one else in the story who has both the experience within Hero Society to believe in its value but also the perspective to understand why villains don't believe in that value.

That’s if you assume he’s become an amalgamated existence. My favorite read on Kurogiri treats him as the survivor of a traumatic experience, one that has fundamentally changed him such that he can’t reconcile with his old friends as long as they refuse to recognize the person he’s now become in favor of fantasies about who he used to be. Sadly, I don’t think that’s particularly well-supported by the story thus far,(5) but the pronoun shift is an exciting new development!

Really, despite Shirakumo breaking through once, I want to think that it would be impossible for him or the heroes who want him back to ever shake "Kurogiri" entirely if they can't assure him that his cat (Shigaraki) is going to be taken care of. Because even if Shirakumo might choose otherwise consciously, that care is him; it's the whole foundation Kurogiri is built on. Heroes can't just will it to go away and think they’ll have anything left afterward but fragments of a person.

The editor’s note at the end of this chapter said the battle was moving to a new stage, and let me tell you, I am so ready. Heroes are not yet at a point where they’ve earned a victory, moral or otherwise, so Kurogiri returning to his bartender roots and putting this whole war in a shaker before pouring it out into different glasses is incredibly welcome.

Stray Notes

O I appreciate that Nimble, even when her talk bubbles indicate that she’s shouting full-volume, still shows no indication of a mouth. How does she eat, I wonder? RIP to my dreams about Spinner’s #1 Advisor getting anything important to do, though; Horikoshi’s Women Sidelining disease strikes again.

O Spinner’s biggest contribution this chapter, wherein he finds the strength to surge forward in desperation to help the person he cares about, comes after he loses all the bulk and extra-scales; it’s like an anti-quirk evolution. This continues to prove the point that Spinner’s biggest role in the plot was never about the strength or weakness of his quirk, but rather about his heart. Love-interest coded Spinner is real.

O So what was up with that big ominous panel of the gun and the sound effects of it firing last chapter? Because I really feel like if someone just opened fire on the crowd, it should be WAY harder to have the whole extended dialogue Shouji and pig-nose guy have this chapter.

O The color page at the start really is incredibly gorgeous. God, I wish Hori did more color pages for the villains. We are so underserved in this specific category. I did see some people talking about how Shirakumo’s face here is an adult’s face, not a teenager’s, and if that’s true, I feel like it raises a whole bunch of fascinating questions about what Ujiko is doing with corpses to stimulate growth. As if the Winged Noumu didn’t raise enough of those already, mind. If Noumu can age, does that mean they can die of old age??

---FOOTNOTES---

1: I made a bitchy quip last chapter about the manga’s earlier stance that words are less important than actions, but just to be clear, my issue isn’t talking itself—I think talking is very important, and something the heroes should be doing a lot more of, but that the current system disincentivizes them from doing. The trouble is when the talk is a bunch of empty twaddle that refuses to outline the specific action being proposed to address a character’s accusations.

2: I’ve seen a number of people talking emotionally about Mic’s last yell for Shirakumo this chapter, but I think they’re misreading the art. If Mic were calling that name aloud, it would be in a talk bubble, not the internal monologue text overlay.

3: And wow, does that contingency ever remind me that Hawks was a key member of the team that masterminded this plan.

4: Please go read @codenamesazanka’s excellent meta on how Hero Society prefers dead victims to victims who couldn’t be saved.

5: Shirakumo’s sole action upon being woken by Aizawa being to spill Ujiko’s location is not a promising sign. The most generous read possible that reconciles that action with a Shirakumo who cares about Shigaraki would be that Shirakumo legitimately thought Shigaraki being imprisoned in Tartarus was a better outcome than letting Ujiko have his way. That’s feasible, but it’s also the case that, as far as Kurogiri-as-trauma-victim goes, I’m just not convinced Horikoshi approaches the story with that level of allegory in mind.

#bnha #bnha 373 #bnha civilians #plf advisors #octolad #dj parakeet #bnha spinner #iguchi shuuichi #kurogiri #heteromorph discrimination plot #chapter thoughts

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stevensaus · 2 years

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Jordan Peele's *NOPE* Is Cosmic Horror For This Century

I really, really enjoyed Jordan Peele's Nope, and more on the second viewing than the first. It is a very well crafted film that defies expectations - and yes, you should walk into the film as absolutely free of them as you can manage. The R rating is largely for cursing (which happens throughout) and drug use and vaping. Nope is also a horror movie where the horror is not from jump scares or gore (when violence happens, it's almost entirely off-screen (though often just off screen), but through the implications of the story itself. Mild to OMG MAJOR spoilers for Nope, From Dusk Till Dawn, Stranger Things, and maybe some other properties ahead.

Let me start reviewing Nope by saying that I do not care for the Tarantino/Rodriguez team-up From Dusk Till Dawn, but I absolutely adore Nope. From Dusk Till Dawn is, in my opinion, two movies stitched together. The first half is a classic Tarantino talky crime banterfest, which suddenly transforms into a completely different movie with no warning. The tone, plot, and everything else shift with the harshness of a scratching record. To me, that feels like a gimmick, as if Megan Thee Stallion suddenly started performing Metallica's "Master of Puppets."

RIP Eddie. At first glance, Nope also shifts tone. More than once. But unlike the other film, the tonal shift is not precipitated by sudden changes in the plot of the film, but rather our expectations. As new information is revealed to the protagonists - and us - their attitude changes, which changes everything else. The tonal changes felt organic and like outgrowths of the character's personalities. They are not record scratches, but redirects and misdirects, a technique that Peele honed during his comedic time with Keegan-Michael Key, the horror equivalent of comedic songs that make you think they're going to curse: "I knew a guy who was down on his luck / he might have been poor, but he liked to FISH". Likewise, time jumps tend to annoy me - see the first season of The Witcher for an example of how to do it badly. There, the time jumps are unsignaled, but in Nope there's clear demarcations demonstrating when the focus shifts back and forth from the past. Yes, I also finished the first viewing with more questions than answers. And after a second viewing, there are some questions that remain - but those are questions that I do not think should be answered. But everything else that matters - specifically why the events of the movie unfold the way they do - are answered in full. Sometimes with a line of dialogue, sometimes by thinking things through. While others have dissected the "themes" and "meaning" of the film, I want to focus on the plot of the story here, and to do that, we have to reassemble the film's events (at least regarding the critter) into chronological order. - Gordy brings Ricky "Jupe" Park's TV career to a traumatic halt with his on-set assault. - The "Gold Rush" attraction next door to Haywood Ranch goes bankrupt, and is bought by Jupe, and renamed "Jupiter's Claim". - Three years pass. - "Jean Jacket" shows up and consumes one of Jupe's horses in front of him; he believes the entity to be a UFO. This is also the same time that Otis senior is killed. It's possible - even probable - that Jean Jacket was being a "transient" at this point, having picked off the hikers earlier (and their detritus killing Otis Senior) before Jupe sees him. - During the next off-screen six months, Jupe keeps buying horses one at a time from the Haywoods, despite there not being not that many horses visible at "Jupiter's Claim". Jupe knows the horses he bought are gone - he is glad of the distraction from OJ's wanting to buy the horses back from him eventually. Jupe also wants to buy the ranch - "Su casa is mi casa" he says when Em starts looking around his office - presumably to keep the Haywoods from stumbling over Jean Jacket. - Jupe has been practicing Pavlovian training to draw out Jean Jacket. This free food source We see this at the beginning when Ghost escapes and runs down the valley toward Jupiter's Claim. The lights are all on at Jupiter's Claim, and we hear Jupe himself practicing the speech he later gives. To answer one of Screen Rant's questions - I don't think you can directly see Jupiter's Claim from the Haywood ranch - we only see it when OJ goes further out into the ranch to chase Ghost, despite what Screen Rant claims. Additionally, OJ is pretty obviously an "early to bed early to rise" kind of guy most of the time and has been focused on chores and the ranch, not whatever Jupe is doing. - Ghost is consumed by Jean Jacket, who is then drawn to the Haywood ranch by the light and sound that Em - who is usually not there partying - is creating. At that point, Jean Jacket's "range" or "territory" grows to include not just Jupiter's Claim, but the Haywood ranch as well. At that point, the rest of the events of the movie are pretty much portrayed in chronological order. Yet there's people and sites - such as this Screen Rant article "Nope: 10 Things That Didn't Make Sense About The Movie" - that claim there are mistakes and plot holes, but they're missing things. So let's get into those. First, yes, a coin could kill Otis Senior - because unlike the Mythbusters experiment cited, the coin does not go through the thick top of the skull, but the MUCH thinner bone behind the ocular cavity. Remember, there's an actual hole there for the optical nerve to pass through. So why is there so much screen time devoted to Gordy? Double duty. It explains both Jupe's actions and gives a character arc - Jupe not only makes the same mistake that Gordy's handler's made, but also shows that he's reached a point of desperation where Jupe thinks that he and his family alone are not enough to be successful. A good guess, given the failure of "Gold Rush" in the same location a few years before. The most successful part of his theme park is his semi-secret shrine to Gordy that he charges people to visit; it's no surprise that he then tries to hitch his star to another external entity. Why the name Jean Jacket? It's again double duty - not only does it tie the critter to a "hard to tame" horse, but more importantly, provides the arc for Em's transition from absolutely incompetent animal handler (even flubbing the safety briefing at the beginning COMPLETELY) to being the one who is actually able to "break" the creature, as well as showing how OJ and Em's relationship has been rebuilt by this ordeal to the intensity and love they had as children (the "looking at you" bit). Why does Jean Jacket hide so much of the time? Because it's a predator, and specifically a transient predator. I'm reminded of this passage talking about the two big categories of orcas in the Peter Watts novel Blindsight: "I said forget the language. Think about the lifestyle. Residents are fish-eaters, eh? They hang out in big groups, don't move around much, talk all the time." ... "Transients, now—they eat mammals. Seals, sea lions, smart prey. Smart enough to take cover when they hear a fluke slap or a click train. So transients are sneaky, eh? Hunt in small groups, range all over the place, keep their mouths shut so nobody hears 'em coming." -- Blindsight, Peter Watts So yes, Jean Jacket hides a lot of the time, especially now that it found a reliable food source. How/why does Angel survive? Dumb luck. While he was wrapping himself in the tarp (which caused him to stop staring at it when he first got hit by it), he was also tangled in the barbed-wire fence. You can actually see him still attached to the fence as he's pulled skyward, which is what keeps him from being drawn into Jean Jacket. Sure, he probably should have a few more broken bones and a concussion, but... Why doesn't Lucky die in the Star Lasso Experience? Because Jupe fastened that cage down. While Jean Jacket consistently pulls loose objects into itself, it's only after consuming all the people there that it has the ... strength? energy? ... to do enough to damage the Haywood ranch. The entirety of Jupiter's Claim is left intact, so why expect another building there to be lifted up? Glass (even plexiglass) is heavy. Perhaps the most obvious of Screen Rant's questions, though - and one I heard in the theater - was asking why OJ didn't notice Jean Jacket for six months. As Screen Rant puts it: Not only does he not notice the strange cloud hovering around the Agua Dulce ranch, but he also doesn't pay attention to the power outages, or the reports of the people who have gone missing. There's two big reasons. The first is that Jean Jacket had - until Ghost and Em accidentally attracted its attention - been sticking around Jupiter's Claim and largely staying out of sight. The power outages have a radius that does not extend all the way from Jupiter's Claim to the Haywood ranch, so if the very practical and matter-of-fact OJ had not been looking, he wouldn't have noticed any of it. Would you notice a power outage two blocks away if it didn't affect you? The other is something called "inattention blindness". Our brains edit out things that we don't expect to see, particularly if the strange thing is something that doesn't pose an immediate threat or opportunity for us. Again, can you tell me which clouds were where the last time you looked out the window? I sure couldn't. And thanks to, well, geography, it's not uncommon for similar conditions to produce similar clouds on a regular basis. There are three broad groups of questions I've heard that I don't have answers for. I don't have any explanations why Holst shoots on a particular type of film, or doesn't have a reload canister ready. (They start shooting beforehand because Holst is documenting the whole thing, not just the appearance of Jean Jacket, so yes, he wants the whole thing on his IMAX camera. Holst is obsessed with legacy more than any of the others - also why he goes to get the "impossible" shot, trying to secure his legacy at the cost of his life.) I don't know why satellites don't pick up Jean Jacket's EM disturbances. Then again, we don't know squat about Jean Jacket's EM disturbances, other than they have a limited range and kill power sources. It's also not an EMP in the way that we normally think about it - because the devices come back on without their memory or drives corrupted. The third category is about Jean Jacket, and I think that our ignorance there is the point. Where was Jean Jacket before all this? Don't know. Where did it come from? Don't know. And I think we shouldn't. Jean Jacket's design is not that of a typical movie monster. It is alien as hell, combining flowing forms with right angles that nature simply does not make. It moves in ways that are frankly impossible. And in this, Jean Jacket achieves something that no number of Pacific Rim kaiju can: it is eldritch and occult. Though we have a slow reveal of the creature, as in most horror films, in comparison to, say, Alien, it is fully revealed fairly early on. But unlike a "traditional" monster that frightens through its appearance, the horror of Jean Jacket is through what it implies. Jean Jacket's (frankly beautiful) final design and form, along with its unknown origin and movements, are what make it a thing of cosmic horror. The questions left behind are those that Lovecraft originally left us with a century ago. Its form may be now known to us - but its mysterious origins and abilities - as well as whether it is the only one - make us consider our place in the universe. Yes, Jean Jacket is a creature. And yes, it does have some predictable behaviors based on predator/prey relationships. And that's the scary part, because that's all we know. Think about it. Jean Jacket does not know about fake horses, or about technology. Less so than coyotes, wolves, or other terrestrial predators that have been forced to coexist with humans over the last century. So presumably, Jean Jacket is either new to the neighborhood, a juvenile, or both. Again, Jean Jacket - and presumably its species - are transients. Not just transients to California. Transients to Earth. Transients that, perhaps, last came by this part of space seventy-odd years ago and thirty five years after that, at the heights of the UFO crazes. Perhaps earlier, if you count pre-WWII sightings like these and these and these. Unlike the Predator race - whose motives are ultimately understandable by humans - the motivations, numbers, and so on of Jean Jacket's species are simply unknown. Forget whether or not Jean Jacket might have survived. That's not important. We don't know if Jean Jacket was defeated out of a lack of intelligence - or simply because it was ignorant. The Haywoods and Angel should enjoy their victory over Jean Jacket. Because we don't know if there are more. And if the next one might be just a little bit older, and a little bit smarter. Read the full article

#horror #jordanpeele #moviereview

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i-fucked-your-milkshake · 2 years

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I used to be firmly in the camp of The Prequels Suck and You Should Watch the Original Series First and nothing would change my mind. Then we showed Star Wars to our son.

My wife and I sat him down and explained how Star Wars was released and gave him the option of seeing it “like we did” (which I thought he would jump at because he’s such a little snob about retro experiences) or experiencing it in chronological order. I was sure he’d pick The Correct Way but no. He chose chronological.

I was kind of annoyed by this but it’s what he wanted. So that’s what we did. I, to my chagrin, fired up The Phantom Menace and away we went.

And something amazing happened. The little dude FELL IN LOVE with Anakin. Anakin was his absolute hero. A total badass. The guy he rooted for and identified with. He couldn’t wait to see how Anakin progressed and how he would eventually Save The Day. Which was a sentiment he held for about two and a half movies.

And then Anakin fell. He swore his allegiance to the dark side and started his way into becoming the avatar of evil that we all know and love today. It absolutely broke my son. He was devastated. He cried and wailed and kept saying “this can’t be happening” and “oh my heart, Anakin why?” The little dude was absolutely destroyed. He could not believe it.

The result of that is that he was 1000% more into the original trilogy than anything I’ve seen him watch before or since. He immediately saw the potential in Luke and couldn’t wait for him to learn the ways of the Jedi. He cheered when Luke used the force to destroy the Death Star. He cheered when Luke met Yoda. He gasped in horror when he lost his arm. He was nervous when he showed up in a black cloak and robot arm in Jedi. And he wept tears of joy when Luke redeemed Anakin.

This was the first time I got to see someone experience Star Wars in this way and something inside my clicked. I finally understood the point of the prequels on a level I never imagined. I realized how blinded by my own experiences I had been. I saw Lucas’s designs more clearly than I ever had. I got to appreciate Star Wars as the generational epic it was intended, unhindered by my hipster cynicism and naysaying.

There’s a lot of talk about “preserving the twists” of the original trilogy but rarely do we hear about the new twists that come about watching it in chronological order. Yes, it absolutely changes and recontextualizes things, but not necessarily in a bad way. It might even be better.

After we watched my son hugged me and told me that if I ever fell to the dark side like Anakin he would absolutely make sure I turned good again and, fuck dude, I don’t think I could trade that for anything.

So I dunno, man. Maybe let go of your notions of what Star Wars needs to be and experience it through the eyes of the next generation. You might find yourself rewarded in ways you never thought possible.

#Star Wars #prequel trilogy #original trilogy #prequel vs original

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whiterosechrista · 2 days

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"Inspirational" Posts and Personal Issues

Warning: long post. Proceed at your own risk.

Right, so.

I was scrolling through the 'inspirational' tag, and came across this post.

It made me probably more annoyed than I should be, so I'm gonna try and process why, while also asking for input/general conversation about it.

Disclaimer; I'm tired and haven't eaten much today, so I might just be overly sensitive right now.

In rough chronological order, here's the particular points that ticked me off;

Point #1:

The title; "STOP BEING LAZY AND PATHETIC" (In All Caps)

Right off the bat, something about that just rubbed me the wrong way. I know it's meant to catch your eye and make you pay attention, but something about (in)directly referring to people you don't know as "lazy" and "pathetic" feels.. wrong. Like, excuse me? Who are you, random person online that I've never met in my life, to tell me I'm lazy and pathetic? What right do you have to judge the life of someone you've never seen in person? None.

Point #2:

"No One Cares"

One of the first sections goes on about, in short, how everyone has problems, and no one cares about yours, so just move on with your life. Now, technically, they're not wrong; everyone has problems, and it is definitely not healthy to think yours are inherently worse than everyone else's. But saying "no one cares" feels inherently untrue. Sure, if you whine online (or irl) about every little grievance, it might make people annoyed and/or desensitized to it. But humans are inherently empathic (most of us, at least), and we probably would've died out a long time ago if no one cared about others' problems. Idk, it just feels weird to me.

Point #3:

"You're Not Lazy, You're Privileged"

Now, there's definitely a good point there. People who're struggling to make it by can't afford to be lazy, so if you can, you're probably more on the privileged side. But this gets me thinking about those people who call the younger generations "lazy" because they're not out working 8 hours a day/rely on technology/don't get out much/etc. Firstly; one person's experience of life is never going to be the same as someone else's. By the simple fact of having individuality in everything from personality, to wealth, to generation, to culture, the way you live your life is never going to line up exactly with everyone else's. Secondly; I'm pretty sure a good chunk of the people dubbed "lazy" are actually suffering from some form of depression, and just haven't been able to get help for it for one reason or another. I myself am what I think the stereotypical "boomer" would describe as "lazy"; 24 years old, unemployed, constantly online, rarely leaves the house, doesn't have good eating/sleeping/cleaning habits, and guess what? I was diagnosed as having moderately severe depression. So yes, "lazy" people are likely privileged, as if I were in a worse financial situation I would have likely pushed myself to get a job, which might've forced me into better sleeping/etc. habits, but that doesn't automatically mean I should work myself into a breakdown trying to feel more "productive".

Point #4:

"Focus On Your Health/Relationships" and "Make Routines and Stick to Them"

Again, definitely good points being made here, and I can agree with most of it, but here's the thing; I tried that already. I've tried making routines, I've tried focusing on my health, but no matter what, I always fuck up and get back to my bad habits. Now, that could totally just be me being bad at sticking to things, I'll freely admit to that. But here's another thing to consider; I'm neurodivergent. Been evaluated as being highly likely on the Autism spectrum + I have attention span issues possibly related to ADHD. Putting reminders on my phone doesn't work. Putting events on my calendar doesn't work (unless it's a big important thing/something I'm looking forward to). I've tried to get into better hygiene habits by putting "Take a Shower!" on my calendar twice a week. Didn't work. Tried putting a daily reminder to "Check In With Friends!" on my phone. Didn't work. However I'm wired, those things just don't register as "important"- they just get filed away as "one of many notifications" and ignored. Do it without reminders? I can barely remember what time I had breakfast at. No way I'm making it work without outside influence. In short; good tips, but some people just aren't wired that way.

Point #5:

"Clean Space is Self-Respect"

Verbatim: "Clean space is a clean mind. Not even cleaning after yourself is a sign of huge disrespect to yourself. Stop reading this and clean your room right now !!!!!"

First of all; don't tell me what to do. I'll clean my room when I'm in the right headspace, and having people practically yelling an order at me to do it is just going to make me less inclined to. Secondly; messy rooms are a sign of self-disrespect? I can get that, I guess. Seeing people online cleaning out their "depression nests" definitely makes me happy for them. Here's the thing, though; sometimes, the messiest people are the most active, creatively if not physically. I'm a writer- not great at getting anything finished ('cause possible ADHD), but a writer nonetheless. My head is constantly filled with a bunch of different ideas (when I'm not fried, at least), and I'm so busy trying to keep them straight in my head that the thought of "cleaning up" just doesn't have time to occur. I can maneuver through my room without having to watch the floor 24/7, and that's good enough for me.

(Also; changes are tricky for me to deal with (possibly because of Autism). If I'm comfortable in a space, I don't want to change anything about it. The big move we made last December, right as I'd started recovering from depression, was hell on me. I love the new place, don't get me wrong, but the shift was a mess.)

Point #6:

"There's a Reason"

Verbatim: "Remember the reason . Remind yourself, " Why did I even start ? " " Why did I even want this goal ?" . If you don't want the goal anymore then do something else."

Good advice, just one thing to point out; why do people feel like they always have to have a "goal"? The only time I care about a goal is when I'm playing a game (video game, tabletop, whatever). Like, sure, if you're feeling unhealthy and trying to get better, setting a goal can be helpful. But it can also be stressful. Say you expected to lose 10 pounds in 6 weeks, and instead you only lost 5. You did all the work - went on a diet, started an exercise routine, the whole shebang - and you only made it halfway to your goal. (Please note; I'm not a professional, I don't actually know how many pounds one could lose in 6 weeks). That kind of thing takes a toll. Makes you question yourself. Makes you think; should I just not even try? Now, of course, not everyone's gonna automatically give up at the first minor setback, but you get the idea. Setting a goal is a bit like setting a standard, and we all know what happens when people don't meet those. That's not to say you shouldn't set goals at all, it's just the amount of people ragging on people who don't have goals is a little extreme. You don't need a goal to have a good life. If you're happy, then you've got a good life, or at least a pretty decent one. Constantly setting new goals just wastes energy. Give yourself a break.

Point #7:

"Think About What Story You're Telling Yourself"

Verbatim: "If you are telling yourself that you are a lazy person , you will act like one. Your mom didn't carry you for 9 months just for you to say that you are lazy. Get a hold of yourself. Don't complain about how you don't have your dream life if you are lazy."

...

..*sigh*.

There's so many points I could make here. It's good advice, fundamentally, but the way it's worded.. I've heard the "carried you for 9 months" thing from stories about toxic parents too many times to find it inspirational. "I carried you for 9 months"- yeah, you did the bare minimum required to make a human, good job. On the other hand: "don't complain about not having your dream life if you're lazy"? Fair statement, can't argue too much, but it's not always laziness that keeps people from their "dream life". It could be financial reasons, health reasons, or just a plain old crooked system that, for example; hires people based on race, pays differently based on gender, or locks you out of some opportunities because you have a "handicap" that doesn't actually impact your ability to do the job. Effort is good, can go a long way, but sometimes the world just comes together to block your progress, no matter what you try.

Point #8:

"Realize You Can Change Your Reality Any Time"

Verbatim: "You can change your realities really fast if you start acting like the person you want to become."

Not actually much to criticize here; the "fake it 'til you make it" strategy is proven to work. It's just that the wording of "reality" makes me flash back to my dad's "Energy Healing" bullshit. Just say "change your life". Reality is always the same, you're the only thing you can guarantee to change- you're not omnipotent.

(No offense meant to anyone who practices this stuff, it's just not for me.)

Point #9:

"Heal the Past and Move On"

Verbatim: "Go to therapy and heal from the past. You can change your story around . If you are a victim of trauma or abuse , don't just go around and tell people because they lose respect for you ."

...

This is one of those perspectives that makes me have to take deep breaths to calm down. Yes, therapy is wonderful, and you can majorly improve your life by going to it (assuming you have a good therapist), but it's not as simple as just "going and healing". You have to be in the right mental state to realize you should go to therapy, you need to have the courage to make the step, you need to physically be able to get there (or find one that'll do video calls- speaking from experience, phone sessions are not enough), you might need a support system to help you if it doesn't work out, you need to be able to afford therapy in the first place.. I could go on. Also, "losing respect" for someone for trying to vent out their trauma to you is the worst thing you could do. Sure, you don't want to be hit with their trauma all the time, but just tell them that you're not up for that, or, I don't know, help them find a therapist. If a person is weaponizing their own trauma for sympathy, that's different story, but they still should get help. If you don't want to deal with it: block them. Mute them, restrict talking time, establish whatever boundaries you have to, but don't turn it into a "respect" thing unless they're blatantly not giving you any.

(I realize this is a bit harsh; people simplifying mental health issues is one of my big pet peeves that's hard for me to react calmly to, so I'm sorry if it sounded callous.)

Point #10:

"God Will Help"

Verbatim: "Learn to accept help. Sometimes God send people to help you. Ask help from God and you will receive help in miraculous ways."

Now, I completely agree that learning to ask for/accept help is vital. However; basing the statement around a "God" that not everyone believes in is not the best way to deliver the message. I personally am agnostic; if "God" exists, cool (though I have some questions about some things he did), but I don't particularly mind if he doesn't. Some people are just straight up atheist; don't believe in any kind of god at all. How is asking help from God supposed to benefit them? They don't believe in him. It'd be like asking Santa to buy you a motorcycle.

(I mean no offence to anyone who believes, I'm just saying framing your advice around Him means nothing to nonbelievers, and might in fact push them away instead. If I recall correctly, Jesus once said something along the lines of; "respect atheists, for they help you not because God told them to, but because they believe it's the right thing to do". If I'm wrong, please feel free to correct me.)

Overall:

There's actually plenty of good advice being given, but the way some of the things are phrased just doesn't sit right with me. Once again, if anything I said was offensive, it wasn't meant to be. Please tell me so I can do better. I'm sorry this is such a long post, and thankful to anyone who made it this far. You guys didn't have to, but you did, so thank you. :)

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danny-chase · 2 years

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Responding to your tags on this post, got way to long so I'm making a separate post, @no-mere-mortals

This also isn't me trying to like be rude or anything I've just read a lot of comics with Dick so I think I can give a good analysis and show his response concisely (or well, this will be long but it's easier than reading a bazillion comics).

So without further ado, Dick's reaction to Jason's death, how he found out, what he felt, and why, with as much canon context as I can fit into a semi-reasonably length post:

Jason died while Dick was on a mission on another planet, right at the end of the Who is Donna Troy (take like 29384, I'm exaggerating but her backstory is ridiculously complicated and this is not the first time they did one of these) event. For context: Dick's been living and working with the Titans for a few years, Robin!Jason occasionally pops up in the comic (notably, he joined the Titans to help save Dick from Brother Blood).

So it makes sense, then that Jason is in the Titans files. Enter Danny Chase, a younger teenager about Jason's age. As previously mentioned the Titans are in space, but Danny being younger, Dick orders him to stay home because he doesn't want him to get hurt on an interstellar mission. Danny is bored. He's a pretty cocky kid, he's hyper competent but also hyper annoying. So he does what any bored overpowered teen would do and starts going through the Titans files to make his own team because those losers left him behind. (Following panels are from The New Titans #52)

When he tries Robin, it comes in as reclassified and he's like whoops. Jason is stored under Robin-2, and his status comes up as unknown.

Danny's confused by this, the computer updated through some external system, and no news had come to the tower about Jason, who he saw last week:

There's not actually panels of these two hanging out, I'd argue that it's implying that Jason comes and hangs out with the Titans semi-frequently and Dick and Jason likely hung out with each other the week before Jason died. Also Danny calls Jason the Toddster which is hilarious but besides the point.

Dick doesn't find out that Jason's died until The New Teen Titans #55 when (because Danny is an asshole) this exchange takes place.

From here, things start spiraling (I'm showing things in what I believe is chronological order)

Dick is pretty devastated by Jason's death. A lot of fans assumes that because Dick and Bruce were somewhat estranged, that extended to Dick and Jason - and at the time of Jason's death, just like in current comics that's not true. I would say it's somewhat analogous to having an older sibling in college that you get to go visit a bunch (pre-crisis, with innocent Jason had Dick actually coming home a bunch, it's post-crisis where they start setting up Dick and Bruce as estranged and Jason as the violent one tm). These comics are post crisis yes, but they didn't erase Jason being semi-close/visiting the Titans. When Dick mourned Jason, he mourned the person, not the brother he never had or being like it's sad a child died (I would say that's more akin to Tim mourning Damian).

Now to your point, Dick feeling guilty. He does initially. Visiting Jason's grave with Kory, there's the following exchange (again in The New Titans #55):

Dick: I gave Jason my old Robin costume. I should have been there, Kory.

Kory: It's not your fault.

Dick: Maybe not. But that doesn't make it any easier.

Dick know the guilt he's feeling is irrational, but again that doesn't get rid of the feelings. He's pretty messed up by Jason's death, as Kory remarks to herself later:

Kory: He hasn't been the same since he found out about Jason. Oh, Dick -- I know you were Robin. I know what it means to you that the new Robin died. I know you feel like part of you died, too -- but it wasn't you, honey. Robin died. But you didn't. You're still alive honey.

At the end of this scene, Dick decides to go talk to Bruce, partially about the fact that Bruce didn't even try to contact him and we get this (warning for abuse) scene (also from The New Titans #55).

So before his guilt was mainly, “I gave Jason my suit” which is pretty much his stamp of approval (even in retellings where Bruce gives Jason the name Robins, which is all but one, Dick gives Jason his old costume as sort of an acceptance of Jason in the role). Which he knows is irrational, because Bruce made Jason a vigilante, not him, and Jason would have died whether he was in another suit or not. But now adding this conversation into the mix, it becomes “I left Bruce, so Jason had to replace me.” to which, Dick again knows is illogical, because that was Bruce’s choice not his and he does defend himself because he knows that accusation is wrong. And then it becomes “Taking me in made Bruce weak” and “you never actually even cared about him” (which especially in this continuity) which again are both false. But it’s coming from Bruce, someone Dick loves and respects and that’s hurtful and words like this have a lasting impact. You can see just how defeated and small Dick feels, curling up into a ball at the end. My point being, not all of the guilt came from Dick. Dick reacted like anyone would, “I should have been there”. But Bruce blamed Dick, not all of the guilt comes from Dick himself.

We see Kory commenting again on how Dick’s changed since seeing Bruce (still New Titans #55)

And we see that Jason’s death, has made Dick view having side-kicked aged partners in a worse light, and maybe partially because of feeling responsible for Jason, he realizes he can’t be responsible for Danny anymore.

And you can see that Bruce’s words hit home because he’s considering that Bruce taking him in may have been a mistake as well.

Now at this point Kory realizes there’s something wrong with Dick, and she intervenes (mentioned in New Titans #56) and he ends up going to see a therapist. Chronologically, Secret Origins Annual #3 comes after he starts going to therapy (but before we’ve actually seen him in therapy).

The issue starts with Kory and Dick going on a date, and Dick going home because he feels awful (he blames a stomach virus, so we can assume he physically feels terrible as well as mentally).

The context that comes around that hallucination, is that he’s being attacked by Gargoyle and the Anti-thesis, who have personal grudges against him, and draw him into limbo once he falls asleep to mess with him (and eventually kill him). The reason as stated at the end is his weakened mental state.

It’s also confirmed that things got bad enough for Dick to be using sleeping pills, canonically in response to Jason’s death here, as well as the fact that he’s not super bothered by like hallucinating a person in his mirror painting not the greatest picture of Dick’s mental health.

Anyways, time for guilt tripping.

It’s notable that though he’s not the ones making the words, the words are having an effect, and it can be assumed he feels as if he failed Jason. An interesting parallel that can be drawn with Jason, is that Dick has had teenagers die while on his team before.

So it’s possible that guilt over Tara could mix in and influence his feelings towards what happened with Jason. And it’s actually being blamed for Jason’s death that allows him to start turning things around, because again, he knows that Jason’s death isn’t his fault.

And he’s right. The Titans did need him. He loves a lot of people, and he can’t be everywhere at once. And what’s further is that he doesn’t blame Bruce for Jason’s death after that conversation in the cave. With the help of his friends, they defeat the nightmare scenario and Dick reaffirms his love for them and they go to the tower to party, and this is where Dick starts turning things around.

Now back to The New Titans #56 we get to see Dick go to therapy and work through his feelings about the whole situation.

And here we have Dick talking about his guilt again. Standing away from it, he knows it’s not his fault, but in the beginning he felt guilty, which has been compounded by the two external incidents with Bruce and Gargoyle - even he knows both of them were in the wrong to blame him.

I guess, my point is with all of this, is that most of the fandom assumes that Dick is the type of person to feel guilty for no reason (to some extent he does have a “tendency towards self blame”), and even if fans understand that Dick and Jason had a good relationship, they tend to make him feel guilty without understanding where that guilt was coming from. Dick’s reaction to Jason’s death is sometimes framed as Dick feeling bad because he didn’t do enough - but he did do enough, and there was nothing he could have done. It’s much more a case of Dick blaming himself, and that blame being reinforced by those around him, his friends helping him realize that he needed help, and him getting that help and being able to recover.

Honestly, I also think these comics handle the blame of Jason’s death the best, because later literally everyone will go onto blame Jason for his own death, but these comics pointed the blame at the adults for letting him become a vigilante in the first place - they show Bruce’s justification for having Jason in the first place (things worked fine with Dick, he was lonely and needed a partner, Jason could be the same right?) and Dick turning away from the idea of having child sidekicks (after this comes Tim’s introduction, and it seems Dick’s position slides to, well, if Bruce is going to take on a kid, I will do everything i can to help train them so they don’t die, which is logical, and isn’t some big betrayal to his morals - he can’t really stop Bruce and he does tell Tim to go home, Tim just won’t - but Dick not wanting to be responsible for child heroes comes up again, in his reluctance to be a mentor for the young justice gang). Because this is from the Titan/Dick’s perspective, the comic was allowed to challenge Bruce and Dick in a way that other comics couldn’t.

As for Dick being clingy after Jason comes back uhhh I’ll analyze Brothers in Blood another day 💀, but currently their relationship is on good terms, Dick’s not overly clingy, nor canonically has he ever been like that (he’s actually probably the best at emotional intelligence out of the batkids and gives family members space if they need it, he shows up when Jason needs him and doesn’t come barging in uninvited). What can I say, they’re brothers.

#undescribed #bad dad bruce #dick grayson #jason todd #child death mention #nightwing #robin #red hood #batfam #momo don't look #character analysis #canon vs fanon #i miss the discowing suit #child abuse mention #long post

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t-lostinworlds · 4 years

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Truth or Drink (Tom Holland)

[YouTube AU: Video 2]

a/n: this took a while asdfghjkl this was in my drafts since oct. at 7k already (but got distracted with other WIPs as always) and was suggested by this anon back in aug. so i’m sorry this took a so long hun. also, the gif took a fucking while too ‘cause we are extra in this house haha (i mean, i wanted the time in the vid to match the wc so ha). anyway, enough babbling and let’s get into the video! lol, i hope you guys enjoy this one!

summary: You and Tom do a couples Q&A where you spilled steamy secrets with the help from alcohol. pairing: tom holland x fem!reader warnings: dialogue bonanza (lots of laughing and asking), alcohol consumption, secret spilling (from both parties), teasing from everyone (will include dirty jokes from the lads), mentions of smut & risque aka sex-themed questions. word count: 14.2k+ (aha enjoy!)

☰ youtube channel | previous video << ǁ >> next video ☰ masterlist on bio & pinned post

⚠ DISCLAIMER: this is a multi-part (not a series) which is basically one-shots happening in the same universe meaning you don’t need to read the previous one to understand this one since they are not heavily connected plot wise. although each fic does happen chronologically, you don’t need to read them in order much like how you don’t need to watch youtube videos in order.

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You knew something was about to happen the moment you walked into the dining area, the way Tom immediately went to latch onto you like a koala bear—as if he hasn't seen you just minutes before—tells all.

"What are you up to now?" you asked with a playful scrunch of your nose.

You rested your hands on his shoulders, the fabric of his pink hoodie—while you wore his other pink hoodie, outfits not at all planned since you just took the first thing you saw in his closet—soft to the touch as you took a glance at the camera that was set up at the head of the dining table. The greenery of the outside world behind the glass doors served as a backdrop to the shot.

The crease between your brows deepened at the sight, gaze landing back on the boy attached to your hip who was hugging you sideways with a certain glow in his eyes.

"I'm not up to anything," Tom denied, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck to litter the skin with sweet and soft kisses. Although the gesture made your heart melt, it also made your suspicion grow. You just know there was more to this than meets the eye.

Strong arms staying around your torso, Tom pulled away slightly so he could meet your gaze again, a certain smile growing on his lips, one you know too well. It was the usual smile he wears whenever he wants something from you, a favor perhaps. An all too powerful grin that had you made him get away with things—mostly stupid ones—easily that you aren't exactly proud to admit.

"Tom," you warned with a raise of a brow, enough seriousness and command in your tone that he was quick to give in.

"Okay, okay, we're shooting the next video," he chuckled, tracing your jaw with the tip of his nose before giving it a soft peck. "Which I am hoping you'll do with me still," he murmured, placing another kiss on your cheek before pulling away to look at you fully as he flashed you a not-so-innocent smile.

Bingo.

Tom just doesn't suddenly become so clingy—well, he normally is but more than usual anyway—especially out of nowhere without it having an underlying reason.

You narrowed your eyes at him skeptically. You stayed silent as you weighed your odds, if the enjoyment of making the video was worth it for you to endure the obvious embarrassment that would come with it. You do love this YouTube thing he's got going on, you truly do enjoy being a part of it. But with the things he's spilled in the last video, you just want to make sure that this time won't be too much, though you highly doubt it.

It was hilarious how his bottom lip started to go at your reaction, eyes turning rounder, cuter that would give Puss in Boots a run for his money. And just as you counted in your head, three, two, one—

"Please, darling? Do it with me?" Tom cooed, placing his head on your shoulder as he gave your waist a loving squeeze, fluttering his eyelashes at you in the most adorable of ways with that cute pout to match. It was his signature look whenever he wanted something, the look of handsome and adorable persuasion. "I'll keep the secret-spilling at a minimum, love. And besides, we can always edit it out."

You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head at the fact that you're saying yes either way. You can never say no whenever he puts on that very persuasive face of his, can never resist him even if you tried. And of course, Tom knows this power he has over you, and he's mastered a way on how and when to use it to his advantage.

You aren't exactly proud to say that he has never failed once, his tactic very effective and that's putting it lightly. It's sneaky and annoying sometimes but it's still cute nonetheless.

Though, never did he once abuse this weakness of yours, only using it with the little things—like letting him sneak in some snacks on set when he was instructed not to or when he wants to do certain stuff—because when it's something serious and you say 'no,' then he's quick to listen and settle when you've made your final decision. He knows you only have the best intentions when it comes to his safety and just him in general, so there's really no doubt on Tom's behalf when it comes to following you on that.

"Why me? Why not give the other boys a chance to be in the spotlight?" you proposed, not giving him the satisfaction of winning just yet.

Tom shrugged with a wide smile. "The fans love you," he hummed.

The reception of the last video was mostly positive. Maybe it was the fact that you've been with Tom for a couple years already.

Your relationship was private of course, but it wasn't a secret. It was relatively the both of you showing glimpses of it every now and then online. So, compared to when the news first broke out, this time was a bit calmer. There are still trolls and haters—they're always going to be there unfortunately—but you've learned to shut them out, turning your focus more on the ones who are very positive and supportive. They should be the only ones who should be given attention to, no point wasting your energy on random keyboard warriors.

"You mean they love it when I make fun of you?" you said, laughter escaping your lips soon after when Tom buried his face back on the crook of your neck as he groaned in dismay.

Let's just say his fans quite enjoyed how you handled him in the last video, the teasing, the banter, the whole lot. Tom hasn't been able to escape the countless clips that are circulating the good old internet. No matter which platform he uses, a clip or meme is always there to haunt him. Most of them vary from him screaming and wriggling in pain; laughing like a hyena while also wriggling in pain; the random facial expressions he's made; and even sometimes, a snapshot of you looking at him in great disappointment and/or embarrassment. That's just some among the plethora of other memes.

Tom had seen it coming of course, but it doesn't mean it's any less embarrassing, especially with how clueless he seemed when it came to women.

"Unfortunately, that too," he grumbled.

"Okay then, might as well give them more content," you teased, Tom pulling away again to gawk at you with a look of feign betrayal crossing his features. You could only laugh at that, giving his jutted out lip a kiss to replace it with one of his many sweet smiles. Despite you saying it in a joking manner, he can't really deny that that would happen either way. After all, no matter what he does, he will always be a walking meme.

Tom finally lets you go after one more peck on the cheek, guiding you towards the seat by the other end of the table soon after. He helped you in like the gentleman that he is, a kiss landing on top of your head once you were seated before he made his way towards his place.

"What are we doing this time?" you asked when Tom sat down on the chair across from you.

And as if on cue, Harry walked into the dining area with two bottles of gin on hand, Harrison following suit with a bowl of half-sliced limes along with Tuwaine with a bucket of ice and two Collins glasses.

"Truth or drink," Harry said with a wide grin, lifting the bottles of Aviation gin to further prove his point.

"You guys chose me to do this with him because I'm a lightweight, which means I'm more likely to talk, didn't you?" you said, narrowing your eyes at each of them as they placed their respective items right in front of you in the middle of the table.

All three boys gasped exaggeratedly at your accusation, shaking their heads as they made their way behind the camera, chorusing a bunched of:

"Oh no, of course not."

"That was not the plan."

"We would never."

You could only roll your eyes at them, playfully of course, turning back to Tom who was quick to throw his hands up in surrender once he took in your expression of pure suspicion.

"I swear, I just want to do this with you, plain and simple," he confessed, though his follow up sentence made you think that it wasn't as plain and simple. "But you are very funny when you have alcohol in your system."

"Does that mean I'm not when sober?" You raised your brow at the man across you, sitting straight up as you clasp your hands together, resting it on the table to seem serious.

Tom shook his head frantically. "No! You're still very funny sober!" he rushed. "Love, you know what I meant," he added with a whine, head dropping low once you let out a laugh, only lifting it back up to shoot you another pout. He can be quite gullible sometimes and you honestly love it, love teasing him about.

"Besides, it's a couples Q&A and the only couple here are you two so there aren't really any options. The only difference is that it has alcohol to spice things up a little," Harry said, now in his place behind the camera just like before.

"With equally spicy questions," Harrison added with a wriggle of his brows, coming back up on the head of the table to place a stack of white cards to which you assumed was where the questions were written.

"You guys wrote the questions didn't you? Okay, this is a set up," you joked.

"They're harmless questions I swear!" Harrison defended with a laugh before returning back to his place by the camera. Though knowing them for as long as you have, you've learned to never trust those words fully. It was highly expected that the questions aren't going to be simple, let alone safe for work.

"But if you're not comfortable doing it, it's totally fine, darling," Tom said, smiling sweetly as he grabbed your hands across the table and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He knows you have never been an avid drinker. As you've said, you are lightweight. So, if ever you wanted to back out, he's just making sure you know that you have the option to.

"No, I'm fine with it. This will be fun," you said, flashing him a true, reassuring smile of your own, squeezing his hand in return for good measure. "But can I at least have some juice or something? I'm not drinking gin straight," you added.

"Figured you'd say that," Tom said with a wide grin, rushing up from his seat and disappearing into the kitchen. He came back not long after with a bottle of orange juice on one hand all while holding a spoon and paring knife on the other. "Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice," he sang the good old Snoop Dogg classic no matter how corny, placing the bottle juice right beside the gin on the head of the table.

You narrowed your eyes at your man. "You seem prepared Tom."

"Nope, I just know you too well," he hummed, giving you a sweet peck on the forehead before he was back on his seat across you.

"Right, let's give the people what they want," you said, rubbing your hands together with a wide smile.

It was Tom's turn to look at you skeptically. "Why do I have a feeling that we'll just take turns in exposing each other?"

You tilted your head at him with a grin, shrugging your shoulders and said,

"How bad can it be?"

***

"And we are rolling."

"What's up guys! Tom Holland here," he introduced with a loud clap. "I'm back with another video joined by none other than the gorgeous Y/N." You waved at the camera with a sweet smile at the mention of your name. "The rest of the gang are behind the camera as per usual," Tom added, the lads cheering at their cue unenthusiastically and totally not in sync, chuckles and giggles following soon after.

"You can feel the excitement in the room," Tom said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. "Anyhow, since lovely Ryan Reynolds sent me a case of gin just recently, I thought; why not put it to good use?" Tom shot the camera a knowing look. "Hashtag not sponsored but should be!" he yelled, making you jump slightly at the sudden loud sound.

"Do you have to be so loud?" you grumbled, playfully covering your ears in the process.

"Oh, sorry love," Tom chuckled, shooting you a sweet smile before turning back to the camera, finger pointed at it as he said, "But Ryan, my DMs are always open."

"Always looking for someone to replace me," you sighed, shaking your head dejectedly as you turned to the camera with a deep frown.

"Ah, here we go," Tom groaned, shooting you a playful glare because he knows that the teasing would only get more and more prominent from here on out.

"What? You and I both know I've got a lot of competition," you said as a matter of fact, leaning back on your seat with arms crossed over your chest. "Mainly Jake G. and Harrison, with a couple of variations here and there but you get what I mean."

Tom shook his head at you with a teasing roll of his eyes. "Once again, my girlfriend everyone," he said to the lens with a tight lip smile before turning back to you with a deadpan expression. You only shrugged in response, flashing him an innocent smile.

"Anyway, a fan suggested this in the comments of the last video so today, we're going to be doing Truth or Drink," he continued, turning back to face the camera. "Rules are simple, we take turns on reading out the questions that are written on these cards right here"—Tom lifted the stack of white, rectangular cards before placing them back on the table—"and we either answer them truthfully or we take a drink."

"Oh and a little disclaimer," you paused as you looked at the camera. "The lads wrote the questions so we have no idea what's in the cards nor did we have any involvement in the choosing of certain topics which are possibly going to be discussed in this video," you added, feeling like it was a fact that needed to be said.

"Parental guidance is advised," Tom chuckled.

"They're not that bad you divs," Harrison grumbled.

Now you're certain on who wrote most of the questions, he's been keen on taking offense whenever anyone gets suspicious over them. "We'll be the judge of that," you stated, raising a brow at Harrison before turning back to Tom.

"Let's get right into it shall we?" Tom proposed. You gave him a nod in response, jutting out two thumbs up for good measure. "Ladies first," he said, flashing you a charming grin as he gestured towards the pile of cards.

You reached over to the pile, making sure to pick the card in the middle just to make sure that it was completely random. You adore the lads, but knowing how mischievous they can get, you've learned to always keep one eye open with regard to everything that they do. Plus, it was so easy to set it up for you to pick a certain question given that it was only you and Tom taking turns on picking a card.

"We are starting off with something a tad bit dark huh." You gave the lads a swift glance before turning to the card you had on hand. "If I killed someone would you help me cover it up?" you read out loud, placing the card on the discarded pile before your gaze landed on Tom who gave you a small, secretive nod 'yes' which only made you giggle.

Tom leaned forward as he rested his elbow on the marble surface, hand playing with his chin with his eyes on the ceiling to seem that he was deep in thought. He turned back to you and said, "Do we not get any context? Was it an accident or was it on purpose? Was it due to hate or fear? Was it justified?"

"It's a yes or no answer Tom," you laughed.

"Well then, you already know the answer but for legal purposes," Tom paused, reaching for the bucket of ice and putting some in his glass. He poured the gin on top of that and then added a dash of lime, swirling around the glass to mix them all together. "My lips are sealed," he chuckled, lifting the glass up to his lips and taking a drink. "Oh, that's good stuff," he commented, taking another sip before putting the glass back down.

"Hypothetically, if you were going to help, you'll probably be the one who'll get us caught if I'm being honest," you giggled to which Tom threw his head back with a laugh.

"Yeah, you'll tell me what you did, I'll get shocked and as we're getting stuff to you know, hypothetically hide the body, I'll go 'I can't believe you killed someone' in public and then someone will hear and call the police and we're done."

You burst out in a hearty laugh at that, nodding your head in agreement. "That's exactly how it's going to happen."

It was Tom's turn to pick a question, his grin growing wider as his eyes scanned the card in his fingers. "What's the most embarrassing thing you've done in front of me?" he asked, his features brightening in excitement because he already knows the answer. There wasn't really much to begin with other than that one incident that will always haunt you for the rest of your life.

"Do you want me to tell them the story?" you sighed, leaning back on your chair with palms flat on the table. It wasn't one of your finest moments that's for sure and Tom hasn't been letting you hear the end of it. In fact, it was one of his favourite stories involving you both.

"It's up to you, love. You don't have to if you don't want to." Tom shrugged with a smirk, reaching for your glass to get your drink made. "But that moment was so adorable for me though, embarrassing for you but very adorable for me," he added with a wink.

"Adorable or ego boosting?" you pointed out with a raise of your brow.

"Both," Tom laughed, adding some ice in your glass and pouring just the right amount of gin soon after.

You watched with an adoring smile as he poured in the orange juice, the sound of silverware and glass clinking together filling the air as he mixed up the liquids. He then squeezed a bit of lime in your drink, taking the paring knife soon after to slice up another lime in a thin circle, making a small slit in the middle so he can put it on the rim of your glass easily. Tom can be extra at times, of course he felt the need to decorate your drink, even when it wasn't exactly necessary but you wouldn't want it any other way.

"Look at you being a bartender," you teased, Tom looking up from his task to shoot you playful wink with a smug smirk to match.

"You love to see it."

You shrugged, not at all denying his claim because well, you do love seeing it.

"Here you go, mi lady," he hummed, handing you your beautifully decorated drink with a proud grin on his lips.

"Thank you, kind sir."

As much as how refreshing the cocktail looked in its cold glass and bright, orange colored glory, you know you had to be strategic with drinking. Because alcohol boosts your confidence, it makes you brave, it makes you say things you wish you hadn't when sober. And with you being lightweight, it isn't exactly ideal to be happy-go-lucky with it, especially knowing how these questions can go from one thing to another real quick.

You thought it's best to share embarrassing things that you can live with to keep the drinking at a minimum, rather than take too much alcohol too fast and say worse things down the line because you got somewhat tipsy or downright drunk. There's really no way of knowing how hard it hits given that different types of alcohol affect you in different ways.

"Okay, it was when we first met, which obviously doesn't make it any less embarrassing, first impressions and all that," you started, sitting straight up as your fingers drummed around the cool surface of your glass. "Me and a friend of mine were at this park and decided it would be fun to rent out these bikes to get around quicker, so we did. Lo and behold, Tom and Harrison were also at said park—"

"Oh yeah, I remember this," Harrison laughed. "This is going to be good."

You shot the blonde lad a quick glare before continuing. "Luck wasn't on my side that day—well, depends on how you look at things because I did meet Tom and seem to have gotten far," you laughed towards the camera, giving Tom a swift glance who was quick to lock eyes with you as he nodded agreeably with a chuckle. "But add that to me being very clumsy and simply put, I fell off the bike right in front of him," you sighed dejectedly, heat coating your cheeks as the lads chuckled in their seats, purely in amusement and not at all in a demeaning way.

"Go on love, let's hear the full thing," Tom encouraged, sitting back on his chair with his arms crossed over his chest to relax, attention fully on you as if he hasn't heard this story many times before. He genuinely does love hearing it. As you've said, it was one of his favourites.

"I'm getting there," you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at Tom who only flashed you an adorable, bright smile, knowing that if he does that, you can't stay mad at him. With a another sigh, you continued, "As we were riding our bikes, we saw him and Harrison sitting on this random bench from afar doing, I don't know, maybe they were on a date or something—"

"Darling, don't try and steer the topic here," Tom laughed. You stuck out your tongue at him—yes, very mature—his laughter only growing louder at your reaction.

"I'm a big fan of the Marvel movies, so obviously, I knew who he was. I was trying to keep my cool, you know, I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of him and thought I'll just ride pass, don't want to disturb whatever they had going on. But as soon as we got near to where they were sat, he looked towards my direction and we made eye contact—"

"The power I have," Tom crooned with a smug smile, earning a pointed eye-roll from you.

"Oh shut up. You know that wasn't the sole reason why I fell," you scoffed. "The chains on my bike went loose so I had no full control over it. We weren't going slowly as well because this friend of mine thought it was a good idea to one up each other so we kept going faster and faster, racing towards who knows what.

"So, my next option was to just plant my foot on the ground to stop it right? But as I've said, luck wasn't on my side that day. Before I could even do it, a rock went under the front wheel—which I didn't see given that I was distracted, you lot know why—and completely took me off balance and the bike went sideways real quick that I didn't have any time to react at all. And...did I roll a few times?" You turned to your boyfriend.

"Twice," he confirmed, a sympathetic smile on his lips as he tilted his head at you sweetly.

"Now, I don't see why you find this story adorable." You narrowed your eyes at your man.

"Not the actual accident, darling. It's what happened after that I found adorable. You were so cute being all shy and embarrassed," Tom defended with a pout. "And you know for a fact that whenever I see you with the smallest scrape or cut I panic and fuss over you immediately."

"You do. A bit too overdramatically," you giggled. It was a bit much sometimes how he worries but that's just Tom being the caring and overprotective boyfriend that he is. "Anyway, so yes, I rolled on the ground twice but all I remember was that I was already lying on my back, watching the sky while my knees, forearms up to my elbows and palms were burning. Then I saw Tom approaching and I swear I was just wishing that the ground would swallow me up right then and there," you finished.

"I quickly rushed to her aid, because you know, I'm Spider-Man," Tom added with a cocky shrugged, arms open wide as if to showcase himself.

There was a loud, collective groan from the lads which earned a laugh from you and a sound of pure protest from Tom.

"It's true!" he exclaimed. "Anyway, she then went, 'oh, my knight and shining armour, my handsome Prince Charming'," Tom gushed, voice at a higher pitch with the utmost exaggeration as he placed the back of his hand over his forehead. "And I went, 'don't worry princess, I'm here to save you,' and then we kissed and lived happily ever after," he concluded with the cheekiest smile.

"We remember this story very differently." You shook your head at him with a hearty laugh. This boy is always something else. "But fine, I'll give you the Prince Charming part because you did look like it.

"What you said was, 'miss, are you alright?' which was very formal of you, especially with the accent." You turned to the camera with a suggestive wiggle of your brows, making Tom drop his head shyly with a chuckle as his cheeks turned slightly pink. "And no, we didn't kiss. You don't kiss people you just met Thomas, get a hold of yourself. He helped me up and was kind enough to offer to take me to the hospital which wasn't needed since it was just a few cuts and scrapes but still insisted that I get checked. Who knew you'd be overprotective since day one," you laughed.

Tom shrugged with a chuckle. "We got to know each other while in the hospital and after she got cleaned up, I thought, I liked talking to her and I really don't want to say goodbye just yet. So, I invited her to lunch which she surprisingly said yes," he teased, sarcasm laced in his tone at his last sentence as he shot the camera a knowing and smug look. You kicked him lightly under the table, the action catching him off guard making him let out a yelp.

"It was more of me being polite because you helped and that. Didn't want to seem rude by saying no," you said, Tom gasping in full offense at your words. You let out a laugh as you rushed, "I'm kidding! Of course I wanted to go to lunch with you. It was impossible to say no because you've been really sweet and a real gentleman that day. And well, it was fun hanging out with you."

Tom smiled widely at that, nothing but pure love coating his features as he held your gaze, hand sneaking over to yours that was on the table and giving it a quick but loving squeeze.

"Where did Harrison go?" Harry wondered, the blonde boy suddenly turning silent and surely enough when you gave him a swift glance, he was already blushing.

"I had my friend with me, Tom had Harrison, you do the math," you said plainly, laughter laced in your tone.

"Oh, so you got some that day," Tuwaine chuckled, nudging the boy beside him with his elbow.

"Shut up, Tuwaine," Harrison grumbled, swatting away his friend lightly.

"But in conclusion, I am a superhero in real life," Tom stated proudly, swiping away the imaginary dust that was lying on his shoulder. He turned to the camera with a bright and wide smile. "But I do thank that bike every day."

"A bit sadistic but okay," you added, looking at Tom skeptically with a scrunch of your nose.

"No! I meant we wouldn't have gotten to know each other if that didn't happen," Tom rushed, lips turning into a pout when you only did nothing but laugh. "You're mean."

"You're just too adorable not to pick on," you giggled, his pout turning more prominent at your words.

You so badly wanted to get up off your seat and give him a proper kiss, but those things are always reserved privately. You two had never been big with public displays of affection, just the casual holding hands and occasional hugs. There are a few instances where you'll sneak a quick kiss while hanging out with friends but that's different compared to it being on tape for the whole world to see later on.

"Anyhow, what's the most embarrassing thing that you have done in front of me?" You asked back, your turn to grin wide because you know which story it was going to be, the way Tom's cheeks were quick to be dusted red was a clear indication that you were right.

"I'm smooth as hell, would never embarrass myself in front of a lady," he said casually, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back on his chair, all cool and suave.

"Oh shut up and tell the story," you said with a playful roll of your eyes, Tom letting out a shy chuckle before he leaned on the table.

"Right, it was our second date and I split my trousers open," he said, short and sweet, though his blush was already deepening because Tom knows the sharing won't stop there.

"Wait, how open?" Tuwaine asked.

"Like full on, centre to back, underwear and inner thighs with a bit of butt showing open. It would have been a bit better if I wore black pants—boxers to the American people—and black trousers right? But me being unlucky, I went for light-coloured denim jeans and black pants that day so it's fully obvious that I did ripped my trousers open," he chuckled shyly, hand going to rub at his shoulder, body slightly crouched as he refused to look away from his glass of gin.

"Go on Thomas, let's hear the full thing," you prodded, throwing his previous words right back at him.

He lifted his head up to shoot you a playful glare, though sat straighter anyway, elbows now on the table with his hands clasped together as he got ready to tell his story. "We were well underway our second date, a simpler one which was a walk in a somewhat less crowded park—"

"What's with you two and parks?" Harrison pointed out with a chuckle.

"Disaster just waiting to happen as you can tell," Tom laughed.

"We've steered clear from parks after all these incidents," you joked with a giggle.

"I did a flip and didn't land the right way was basically what happened," Tom continued, turning to the camera with a look of dismay. "We were walking by a couple of street dancers who were practicing a routine and they were doing all sorts of flips and tricks. She stopped walking completely and watched—wait, correction, stared at this certain bloke who was doing backflips—"

"I was not staring," you butted in. "I was just watching him do his thing and said how cool it was. And why are you making it seem like it's my fault?" you gasped, placing a hand over your heart, feign offence crossing your features.

"I'm not!" Tom laughed, hands up in surrender before he crossed his arms over his chest. "All I'm saying was that I was trying to impress you, which is why I offered to show you a flip. And as everyone in this room knows, I do the stupidest things when trying to impress a girl, especially when I like her that much."

"I was already impressed by you as is Tom, you didn't need to do a flip," you said as a matter of fact, small giggles escaping your lips as you looked at him with nothing but pure adoration. Tom felt his heart melt at the sight and more by your words. "And besides, I already knew you could do it. But somehow you felt the need to prove yourself after you saw me complimenting that dancer," you added.

"It's what you call ego, Tom," Harry laughed.

"Shut up, Harry." Tom shot his brother a glare though chuckled right after because it was in fact a bit true.

It was the silliest thing thinking back on it now, how he just said 'you want to see me do a flip?' out of the blue. You furrowed your brows at him in response, though your smile was laced with amusement. He just wanted to impress you as he'd said. And fine, maybe his ego got struck at teeny bit, and maybe he felt a little jealous that your attention got torn off of him because he truly did like you that much.

But at the end of the day, even though he had a little mishap, it all worked out so he wasn't at all complaining. "Anyway, so I did the flip, completely disregarding the fact that my shoes were slippy and my trousers were tight. I did land upright and not on my face this time so that's something," Tom chuckled. "But my right foot slipped so I was full on going on a wide split which I normally can't do since I am not flexible enough and proceeded to fall on my bum.

"The moment I heard the sound I instantly knew and just went, 'oh no' and remained on the ground because I didn't know what to do then. I was already embarrassed because I slipped, do I really want to tell her I tore open my trousers too?" Tom laughed timidly, the blush on his cheeks turning redder as he rubbed the back of his neck in utter embarrassment.

"I kind of knew right away though because I did hear something rip," you giggled. "He then just slowly stood up, hands behind, flat on his bum and said, 'I split my trousers open' in the smallest voice like a kid who's scared to tell their mum they fell or they'll get scolded. Plus his face was beet red, just like now." You pointed towards your boyfriend, who in turn stuck his tongue out at you as his blush turned into an even deeper shade of crimson.

"Thank God I wore a jacket that day and I was able to at least hide it until we got back to the car or else someone would've clocked it, took a picture, posted it on the internet and it would've made things much worse," Tom pointed out with a chuckle, glad that there was no paparazzi or it would've been a nightmare. "And the fact that you tried so hard not to laugh but still failed made me feel so embarrassed that I was quick to think that that was it. I ruined my chances, no more third date," he added as he turned to you with a small pout.

"I couldn't help laughing because it was the most adorable thing how you went from being all confident and cocksure on doing a flip to this shy boy who refused to look me in the eyes without turning even redder," you said, pure amusement laced in your tone. "But no, that incident made me like you more, it was just too endearing. Third date never left the table after that," you concluded with a sweet smile which only made Tom's grin grow wider.

"Even though she laughed, she was so sweet and kind about it. We had to cut our date shor—actually no, we didn't. We went back to your place and decided to do a movie marathon instead," Tom said fondly, face glowing with joy as the memory brought nothing but warmth across his chest.

"Yeah, with you wearing a pair of my sweatpants," you giggled, mirroring his expression as your mind recalled the sweet moment of you and him, simply cuddled up on the couch.

"And that's on getting the girl by splitting your trousers open," Tom said with a smug smile, pointing at the camera as he shot it a knowing look with a wriggle of his brows.

"And getting the boy by falling off a bike," you added, doing exactly what he did as you turned to face the lens.

"Look at us," Tom gushed, looking back at you with a smile, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. "Hey, look at us."

"Look at us. Who would've thought?" you giggled, giving his hand a squeeze in return.

You were always quick to catch on what he was trying to do that Tom couldn't help but smile widely, heart melting ten times over at the thought of you knowing him so well. "Not me," Tom chuckled, letting go of your hand and holding up his palm for a high-five to which you gladly obliged with laughs of your own.

"You two are made for each other," Harry chuckled with a shake of his head, now just getting that you two were recreating the famous Paul Rudd meme.

"My turn right?" Tom asked. You nodded with a hum as you pushed the pile of cards towards him. He let out a loud scoff once he read the question, his reaction making you raise a brow in both curiosity and slight dread. "Be honest," he said as he looked up from the paper, gaze landing on you. "Who do you love more, me," he paused for dramatic effect, narrowing his eyes at you before continuing, "Or Tessa?"

You let out a small groan as you hang your head low, fingers tracing the side of your cold glass. You let out a sigh of defeat before you met Tom's expectant gaze. "I can't possibly answer that question," you grumbled, bringing the glass up to your lips as you took a swift drink before placing it back down.

"That was such a tiny sip," Harrison pointed out.

"Alright, alright, I guess we can tell who the bad influence here is," you said with a teasing roll of your eyes, but still took another drink anyway, taking in more of it this time around. You just want to play the game fair and square. "You actually made that really well. It's really good," you hummed at Tom as you placed your drink back down, the lad grinning widely in response.

"Why thank you, darling," Tom crooned, voice smooth with a pride-filled smile, pushing over the pile of cards back in the middle of the table to get you to ask the next question.

"Okay, who wrote this?" You turned to the boys behind the camera with a raise of your brow. "If the alcohol wasn't going to do it, then this will definitely get the video restricted, unless you're going to bleep some words out?" You turned to Harry.

"I've got that covered," Harry laughed.

Glancing back at the card you had on hand, you asked, "If our sex life was porn, what genre would it be?" You looked up at Tom to see him try his best to hold back a smirk.

"Nope, not answering that," he laughed with a shake of his head as he lifted his glass off the table. "Mainly because there are too many genres that it would fit for me to only pick one," Tom muttered softly against his drink as he looked at you through his lashes. His words were muffled but you still heard it, you were closer to him after all. You felt your cheeks heat up at that, even more so when your man shot you a teasing wink before downing the shot of gin not long after.

Tom set his glass down and reached over to take another card. "What does your family think of me?" he asked with a clear of his throat.

"Well..." You slowly dragged your drink closer to you, Tom's mouth falling agape that you couldn't help but burst into a hearty laugh. "I'm kidding! You already know how much they love you," you said. "I mean, my parents call him 'son' so." You shrugged as you turned to the camera. Tom puffed out his chest all proud with a very smug smile on his lips. You rolled your eyes, sighing as you added, "They probably even love you more than they love me."

Tom chuckled, "My family loves you more than they love me, too—"

"I can vouch for that," Harry intervened.

"Thanks, Harry," Tom said sarcastically, flashing his brother a forced smile. Turning back to you, he finished, "So, I guess we're even."

You could only nod with a soft giggle, reaching over to the stack of cards to keep the pace going. "Lads! What's with these kinds of questio—you know what, I don't even expect any less from you guys," you sighed, pursing your lips as you re-read the question again before sitting straight up and looked into Tom's eyes. "What would you do if you caught me watching porn?" you asked.

"Watch it with you and help get it done, duh?" he answered without hesitation, leaning back on his chair as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Have done a couple times actually," Tom murmured, somewhat to himself, though not really since everyone in the room—and pretty sure the camera—heard it.

"Tom!" you hissed.

You felt your body tingle, legs instinctively closing together as the countless moments it happened replayed itself inside your brain. Although what he said wasn't false, it wasn't the full truth either. He didn't exactly catch you red handed, never did since you don't watch porn often.

All you did was asked him—merely out of curiosity—what type he mostly watches. Your question sparked an idea in his head which led to you sitting in between his legs, bare back against his naked chest as the laptop sat right in front of you both with the video of his choice.

Tom then made his way with you while you watched, making sure you never take your eyes off the couple on screen or else. He was always fully in control over you every time you do it, his fingers sometimes delicate, mostly rough, touch hot and heavy all over your skin, lips warm on your neck, teeth sharp against your bare shoulder as he brings you to the edge over and over and over with nothing but his hands. And once the video ends, Tom will take it upon himself to re-enact the whole of it with you—if you could still take it of course—bringing what was on screen to real life, full recreation from start to finish.

Best believed you're properly blissed out at the stop of every play.

Your boyfriend's eyes widened once he realized the actual volume of his voice, face turning a deep shade of red, sitting straight abruptly as he rushed, "No! Wait—dammit." Tom casted his eyes down shyly when the boys let out exaggerated gasps and sounds of disapproval, a telltale sign that they already heard it. "I'm sorry, darling." He met your gaze again as he shot you a sheepish smile, his head tilted to the side guiltily to which you only responded with a shake of your head.

Typical Thomas.

"Bleurgh, too much info," Harrison gagged, the other boys following suit with their own sounds of repulsion.

"Oh fuck off you divs. You guys wrote the questions so obviously, you wanted to find out," Tom countered, shooting the lads a glare each.

"We didn't expect you to actually answer it!" Harry defended.

"We're cutting that whole part out, no way that's going up online," you grumbled, eyes staring at nothing but your drink as you tried to hide the obvious embarrassment that's coated your features.

Tom reached across the table to give your hand a squeeze, you meeting his gaze to see him mouth a gentle 'I'm sorry.' You flashed him a sweet smile, squeezing his hand in return to tell him that it was alright. It wasn't live so there wasn't any real harm done, aside from future jokes from the boys. That you can deal with than having that confidential information on the internet which will then follow you around for the rest of eternity.

Letting go of your hand, Tom sat straighter and turned to the camera. "If you guys are wondering why there's a jump cut and my face is suddenly so red, it's because I spilled something I shouldn't have that we had to cut it out. And no, it's something you'll never find out," he chuckled shyly, knowing that once the video goes out, fans are going to be so annoyed and will pester him—and everyone in the room—nonstop to try and find out what was cut.

Better that, than embarrassing you in front of millions though, so he'll deal with them no problem. Because as promised, if you weren't comfortable with it staying in the video, then it gets cut out, no questions asked. You and what you're comfortable with always come first in Tom's book.

"Yet again, thank God we didn't do this live," you muttered with a playful roll of your eyes.

Tom shot you one last apologetic smile before he cleared his throat, "Right, moving on." He shifted in his seat and took another card from the pile. "What's the one thing you'd change about me?" he asked.

"Your height," you answered without missing a beat. You chewed on your lip to suppress a grin but still failed miserably, especially when Tom looked at you with his jaw hanging and his eyes wide open.

A chorus of 'ooh's erupted from the boys which only prompted a laugh from you, the joyous sound growing louder when they started to rub it to Tom even more.

"Pfft, apply ice on the burnt area," Harry said as he blew out his cheeks.

"Mate, she's just bodied you with that," Tuwaine tutted at Tom, rising up from his seat soon after to offer you a high-five. You gladly obliged with a laugh, Tom gawking at you with utmost betrayal on his face.

"You're lucky you're very cute, especially when you laugh," Tom grumbled as he shot you a playful glare. The crinkles on the corner of your eyes deepened as you only smiled brightly at him with a tilt of your head, which honestly made you look even more endearing. He could never be mad at you, too whipped to hold a grudge no matter how much you tease him. And besides, that's all there is to it, nothing but teasing jokes and banter.

"If I were you, Tom, I'd start taking those growth pills before she starts to question why she's even with you," Harrison proposed jokingly which earned boisterous laughter from the rest of the gang.

"You lot are so fucking overdramatic. I'm not that short," Tom quipped with a roll of his eyes, gaze landing back on you with his famous pout now in play yet again. "And babe, it's a truth or drink video, not a roast me video," he stated, palms flat on cool marble as he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes.

"I'm joking! I'm joking," you rushed with a giggle. "I wouldn't change a single thing. You know I love you, just the way you are," you sang the last line, though your voice held nothing but sincerity as you reached over to give his hand a loving squeeze. Tom nodded with a sigh, though never did he doubt your words, knowing it deep in his bones that physical traits would never outweigh how much you love him, no matter what.

"Right, let's keep this going," you said as you took another card. "Who is smarter, me or you?" you asked.

"Me," Tom said proudly.

"Well, that's a lie," you objected.

Tom couldn't help but laugh at that, nodding at you as he chuckled, "It's you, obviously. Have you seen the last video?"

"Hmm, I don't know, I think Tom's smarter. I mean, you decided to date him, Y/N, which isn't exactly the brightest decision," Harry inferred, earning a loud gasp from his older brother.

"Excellent point," you agreed, your boyfriend's head whipping towards your direction with nothing but absolute offense written on his face.

"Babe! You're supposed to be on my side!" Tom exclaimed. "Why are we roasting me all of a sudden?" he complained.

"You're just too fun to pick on," you laughed, Tom's bottom lip jutting out at your words. "Especially when you do that, too cute," you pointed out, the apples of Tom's cheek turning pink as a smile grew on his lips at the compliment. "But I am smarter," you concluded, shooting the camera a wink.

"Will not refute," Tom chuckled, keeping the flow of the game as he took another card. "If you weren't with me, who of my brothers would you consider dating?" he said, voice pitching higher at the last few words. A look of downright disgust covered Tom's face immediately as he looked at the boys behind the camera who were snickering like the mischievous little shits that they are. "You lot are grim."

You matched Tom's expression, scrunching your nose as you shook your head quickly. Having been with Tom long enough, you now see the three of the Holland boys as your own brothers, so the mere thought of dating any of them is just—

"I'm not even going to think about it," you grumbled as you took a sip of your cocktail and then picked a card right away. "Who's the celebrity who you were the most disappointed with when you met them?" you continued swiftly, a smile on your lips as you looked at Tom who let out a sigh.

"You know I can't answer that," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, your smile growing wider as you picked up the bottle of gin and refilled his glass. "Thank you, darling," he chuckled with a shake of his head, taking a drink right after.

"Is there anyone in my friend group, famous or not, that you do not like?" Tom continued with a raise of his brow, gaze steady on you.

You emptied your glass—that was still half full—without a single word and placed it back down with a small burp. "Oh, excuse me," you cleared your throat with a laugh.

Tom's brows furrowed at you in mere curiosity, gesturing for your glass so he can remake you another drink. You slid it over to him with a soft 'thank you' and a sweet smile. He started opening up the bottle of juice though his eyes were still on you, narrowed in pure skepticism.

"Who?"

"Not part of the question, Tom," you said, flashing him an innocent smile

"I know who it is," Harry coughed fakely.

"Me too," Tuwaine added with a fake cough of his own.

"It's Harrison because he's trying to take you away from me," you commented, laughing at how the blonde lad gasped in utter protest.

"That's a lie because I know who it is too," Harrison defended.

"So, everyone knows except me?" Tom mused, rolling his eyes in the process.

"What else is new?" you giggled with a shrugged, Tom only sighing as he shot you yet another pout. This boy never ceases to use it since he knows you always swoon whenever he does. 'I'll tell you later,' you mouthed, making him nod with a proud smile.

You gently leaned back on your seat, closing your eyes when you felt a little woozy. You took in slow, deep breaths, the marble cold against your palms as your body started to grow warmer from head to toe.

Maybe downing that drink wasn't the best idea.

"You okay, darling?" Tom asked sweetly, tilting his head at you in worry as he went to take your hand in his. His brows knitted together when your skin felt unusually warm in his palms.

"Yeah," you giggled, opening your eyes to meet his concern-filled brown ones, flashing him a reassuring smile and a nod to match as you gave his hand a squeeze. "Just the alcohol slowly kicking in."

"Want to take a minute, sweetheart?"

"No, I'm good. Go on and ask the question bubba," you prompted as you beamed at him, Tom's heart melting at the beautiful curve on your features and more by the sound of that sweet nickname. Although, he knew that you'd reached your calm before the storm.

You're always smiley and extra sweet when you start to get a little tipsy. But from here on out, especially if you decide to take even more alcohol, you start switching from calm to giddily energetic. That's when the words would start flowing out your lips before your brain could even register what you've just said.

Tom replaced your hand with a white card once he was sure you were fine. A cheeky grin erupted on his face as he asked, "What's your favourite sex position?"

You pursed your lips, eyes landing on the ceiling, fingers drumming on the marble surface of the table as you pondered on it for a second. Tom watched you intently, a soft chuckle escaping him when you met his gaze again with a sweet yet shy smile.

"I've got three though," you said, mostly to him but in a not-so-hush tone. Your mind and your mouth don't cooperate sometimes when there's alcohol in the mix.

"Different one for a different mood," Tom hummed with a smirk, finishing up your drink with a squeeze of lime, mixing it up before sliding it back towards you. "Just say one or take a drink, darling."

"I need to slow down with drinking or else I'll be saying much worse things. I can already feel my filter shutting down," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as you gazed at Tom for a bit of help. "But do I really want this out in the world?"

"Oh, go on Y/N, live a little," Harrison prodded with nothing but utter mischief in his eyes.

You don't know why but somehow, Harrison words were the last straw for that burst of confidence to suddenly overflow. Boldness coated your every nerve as you squeezed your eyes shut and straight up blurted,

"Doggy."

Tom's eyes grew wide, both of his brows rising as he looked at you surprised. Yes, doggy was one of your—and his—favourites, he already knew that, what surprised him was you actually saying it out loud. Although he was swift to turn cocky as he leaned back on his seat, arms crossed over his chest while he kept his gaze steady on you.

As you peaked one eye, you saw that certain smirk of his now playing on his pink lips, one you only ever see privately. You felt your face heat up at that, added from the alcohol and embarrassment. The warmth was quick to spread to the rest of your body though, with the way he was looking at you, it was so hard for it not too. And as your eyes fully soaked him in, gaze traveling from his handsome face sporting that teasing smirk to his bulging biceps, the temperature could only rise. Your senses was now somewhat heightened that you were able to notice every single thing that made your man so fucking attractive and downright hot.

Since when did his hoodie grow even tighter? And damn, why is it so hot all of a sudden? It's probably the alcohol, or mainly just Tom, or simply both.

"Favourite type of porn!" you hear someone from the gang call out—probably Harrison since he's been causing trouble from the very start—interrupting your thoughts. With the alcohol in your system, just as expected, your brain genuinely forgot to take control of your tongue before you could even tell yourself: 'don't!'

"Sometimes hardcore," you let out, slapping your hand over your mouth immediately as your eyes grew wide. You quickly met Tom's eyes, his brown orbs glowing with shock, amusement and a sprinkle of lust. He gave you a soft nod with a soft smile in response, confirming that yes, you said it out loud, and yes it was already too late. "Oh no, this was what I meant when I needed to slow down on alcohol," you groaned, rubbing your hand over your warm face before looking back across your man with a pout.

"Aye! Hardcore doggy yeah?" Harrison cheered teasingly, moving towards Tom and giving his best friend a pat on the shoulder. Tom threw his head back with a laugh, face red but the look of utmost pride was also there. Harrison swiftly offered his fist to Tom, to which the brunette gladly indulged, their knuckles colliding as chuckles escaped the two mates.

You let out a choked laugh as your eyes widened in surprise, jaw going slack with your face heating up even more. "Did you guys just fist bump to that?"

"I mean." Tom shrugged, throwing his hands up with the smuggest grin, causing you to shake your head dejectedly with a groan. You shot Harrison a pointed glare when he went back to his seat, still snickering to his heart's content as if his master plan was in the works.

What a little shit.

"I'm definitely not going to let my parents watch this video," you mumbled with a roll of your eyes.

"I've got a question for Tom though," Tuwaine started, though the glimmer in his eyes told you it wasn't a clean one. "Do you grab it or do you smack it?"

Tom wheezed before erupting into a very rowdy laugh, hands slapping on his thigh as his body shook in nothing but pure enjoyment, his face red from a mixture of embarrassment, glee and the alcohol.

"Oh my—right! Next question!" you squeaked, not giving your boyfriend any time to answer as you attempted to swiftly move on.

"Wait, wait," Tom breathed out as he slowly calmed down, getting up from his seat as he went over to your side. "Harry stop recording for a sec," he called out to his younger brother before he gestured for you to turn until your back was facing the camera.

Tom crouched down in front of you, hands on your knees with a sweet, reassuring smile on his lips. "We'll edit out the parts you're not comfortable with to stay in the vid, alright?" he stated softly.

You nodded with a smile of your own, taking his hand in yours as you played with his fingers. "I'm not opposed to keeping the last two questions since everyone has their favourite position and type of porn. It's normal," you hummed, tilting your head at him as you added, "You saying you've helped me with, you know, that was much more private though, 'cause it's our thing."

"I know, I'm sorry, love," Tom apologized, voice soft but coated with sincerity as his hand went up to cup your face lovingly, brown eyes gazing up into yours with just the same emotions. "We're cutting that part out, I promise."

"But you think your fans would take these questions well?" you queried, leaning into his touch in a way that made Tom's heart do flips inside his chest.

He nodded. "Yeah, I think it's fine. The video is going to be age restricted anyway. And besides, we're both adults, so there's nothing wrong with it," he explained. You hummed in agreement, leaning your head on his hand as you closed your eyes with a soft sigh, your skin very warm against his palm. Tom moved closer to give your lips a sweet peck. "Want some water angel?"

"No, I'm good." You smiled, Tom nodding as he mirrored your grin, giving your lips another kiss before he stood back to his full height and then sat back on his seat.

Shooting Harry the go signal to start recording again, Tom chuckled, "Sorry, needed to cool down for a sec after that." He turned towards the camera, tugging at the collar of his hoodie as he blew out his cheeks to get a point across.

You could only roll your eyes at your man, his laugh growing louder at your reaction. Swiftly taking a card from the pile, you continued with the game. "Is this going to be the theme from here on out, lads?" you asked, eyeing the boys behind the camera suspiciously before you turned back to Tom. "Is there something in the bedroom you'd like to try that you haven't told me?"

Tom's cheeks turned even redder at the question, completely shying away now as his hand went to rub at his shoulder. "I can't think of one right now," he muttered as he looked at you sheepishly. "But no, I'm not answering that since we talk about that off camera anyway," Tom settled with a timid chuckle, refilling his glass and taking a drink of the gin soon after.

"Your turn," you giggled, pushing the pile towards him.

"Oh, okay. What a way to shift the topic," Tom breathed out, scanning the card one more time as he sat up straighter. "If I was in a coma how long would you wait for me?" he asked, meeting your gaze with a tender smile.

"I'll keep waiting for you until you wake up, no matter how long," you answered, without even a single inch of doubt, despite the slight shake in your voice as your eyes started to well up. "Never giving up on you."

"Darling," Tom cooed softly with a pout, the screeching sound of his chair echoing around the space as he pushed his seat back. He went back over to your side quickly, remaining on his feet as he leaned down to engulf you in a tight and warm embrace, swaying you side to side in the most comforting way as he whispered sweet nothings against your hair.

You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath, the material of his hoodie soft against your cheek. You willed your brain not to think much of it, to not dwell on that thought and focus more on the Tom's warmth that's coated you right now. Or else you'll end up a bawling mess, and with the alcohol in your system, it's not a good idea to start crying now.

Your man pulled away gently with a charming smile, cupping your face with both hands as he towered over your seated form. "I'd do the exact same, just so you know," he hummed, brown eyes locked with yours, his thumbs caressing your cheeks fondly before he dipped his head to capture your lips in a loving kiss. You let out a sweet sigh as you melt at the feeling of his soft lips on yours, mind and heart at ease at familiar warmth. The gesture wasn't fully caught on camera though given that you were turned at the opposite direction.

"I love you," you hummed against his lips.

Tom chuckled sweetly, giving you a few more pecks on the lips before pulling away completely, staring right into your eyes as he whispered, "And I love you."

With that he went back to his seat again, flashing you one of his many charming grins before he turned to the group behind the camera.

"You lot are onto something I can tell," Tom said as he raised a brow at the lads who suspiciously grew quiet, looking everywhere in the room but at you two.

Not thinking much of it, you swiftly took another card and read the question. "What would you do if you suddenly get a call that I was gone?" you trailed off at the end of your sentence, brows knitting together as you turned to the group behind the camera. "Guys, this is a cruel question."

"Oh," Tom faltered, smile slowly slipping away from his face as he casted his eyes at his drink.

"Tom, you don't have to answer it," you called out softly, frown deep on your lips as you reached over to take both his hands in yours. But it was already too late when he squeezed your hand tightly, lifting his head back up to meet your gaze and you felt your heart ache. That's when you saw that his mind was already there, brown orbs glossed up as he let out a shaky breath.

"I'd literally shut down," he croaked. "I-I don't know what'd I do if that happens. I just can't imagine my life without you. I—" he stopped, head dropping as his voice broke.

"Oh Tom, come here," you cooed as you immediately got out of your seat and rounded the table, turning him around and away from shot for a bit of privacy. You squatted in between his legs that were spread apart to be much closer to him, gently cupping his face with both your hands so that you were now within eye level. "Hey, look at me," you whispered when you were met by eyes that were screwed shut.

With a deep intake of breath, Tom willed his eyes to open. He looked at you with a small smile playing on his lips, heart steadying at the sight of your beautiful orbs boring into his own. He leaned forward to close the distance between you two, just so he could feel your lips on his. Tom badly needed to. A soft satisfied sigh erupted out your chest as your hand took home on his warm cheek.

"I'm still here bubba. I'm not going anywhere," you hummed against his lips before giving him warm kisses all over his face that made him stifle out a small laugh. You pulled away a little with a loving smile, wiping away the few tears that sat on his skin with your thumb, your touch gentle and warm.

"I love you so much, you know that?" Tom whispered as he looked at you fondly, nudging the tip of his nose with yours in a wholesome manner.

"I love you too, you sweet, soft boy," you giggled, placing a sweet peck on his lips before pulling him in for a hug. You lifted your head up to shoot each of the boys a sharp glare, the three cowering away in their seats as they each said their soft apologies.

Pulling away with a smile, you cupped Tom's face with a hum, "Better?"

"Loads," Tom sighed with a sweet smile, leaning in for one last peck before he lets you go back to your seat. "You purposely put that in there to make me cry didn't you?" Tom spoke, narrowing his eyes at boys who only shrugged in feign innocence. "You lot are evil I tell you."

"Now let's get back on a lighter note!" you exclaimed, pushing the cards towards Tom since it was his turn to ask.

Tom pursed his lips as his brows furrowed at the question. "If you could sleep with any person in the world, who would it be?" he wondered, eyes locking with yours in warning. "Now, careful with your answer, love," he hummed.

"Is that a threat Holland?" you challenged with a raise of your brow.

"I'm just saying, I may already know or will meet this person in the futur—"

"Chris Hemsworth," you blurted, Tom's mouth falling open as he gawked at you in shock. "I'm kidding," you rushed with a hearty laugh.

"Are you though?" Tom doubted, squinting at you suspiciously.

You bit your bottom lip as you held his gaze, Tom letting out a loud gasp when you suddenly took a drink all while maintaining eye contact with him.

"I'm going to have a word with you later missy," he grumbled, voice suddenly an octave deeper, somewhat a soft growl, one that you felt down to your core.

You shifted in your seat with a clear of your throat, shooting him an innocent smile as you said, "To be fair, you did say—publicly may I add—that you'd sleep with Hemsworth too when you did fuck, marry and kill with the three Chrises so, roll the clip!"

Tom shook his head at you with a playful roll of his eyes. "Touché," he sighed, brows furrowed in confusion when you suddenly covered your mouth.

"Oops, I just realized I said the F-word, sorry Harry," you said meekly, a certain smile on your lips which guaranteed that you were now dancing onto drunken territory. Tom knows you like the back of his hand, if the way you were smiling wasn't enough then, the simple look in your eyes would let him know that the alcohol has fully hit you this time.

"It's alright. One bleep word is nothing compared to last week's video. And it's not like this video has been clean anyway," the young twin chuckled.

"So, Fuck Hemsworth, who are you marrying and who are you killing?" Tuwaine asked.

"Marry Evans, Kill Pratt," you answered promptly.

Tom leaned back on his seat as he crossed his arms over his chest, running his tongue over his teeth slowly all while staring you down. "That's a quick answer Y/N," he hummed, shooting you a teasing glare.

"Oh please, yours was quick too, Thomas," you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest as you mirrored him, never backing down from his stare even though it was making you feel certain things.

"Wait, if you're marrying Evans and killing Pratt, and I'm marrying Pratt and killing Evans, does that mean we're set out to kill each other's husband?" Tom started as he leaned forward and towards the table.

"So, if you were successful in killing Evans, and I was successful in killing Pratt, that means we're both widowed," you continued, laying your hands now flat on the marble surface.

"Meaning there's still a chance that we will still end up together. Meant to be if you ask me," Tom concluded, lifting up a hand.

You moved forward to give him a high-five, missing his hand by a lot which made you let out a loud, hearty laugh, Tom following suit with laughs of his own.

"What are you two on?" Harrison said with a crinkle of his nose.

"Alcohol," you and Tom answered at the same time. Both of your mouths turned into the shape of O's as you looked at each other properly delighted.

"Jinx!" both of you exclaimed in unison. "Jinx again!"

"Our mental synchronization; can have but one explanation," you and Tom sang in harmony, never breaking your gaze as you both smiled proudly.

"You—"

"And I—"

"Were—"

"Just—"

"Meant to be!" You two ended with fits of laughter, raising your hands to go for another high five. You missed Tom's hand again which only made you wheeze, tears of joy brimming in yours and his eyes as you tried for the second time, both of you cheering loudly when it finally landed.

"Cringe, really made for each other," Harry gagged teasingly with a grimace to match.

And then Harrison intervened. "How about fuck, marry, kill, Tom Hiddleston, Tom Felton and," he paused, grin turning wider like a Cheshire cat as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. "Tom Holland?"

"That's not part of the game," you protested with a pout.

"Answer the question, darling," Tom encouraged, looking at you expectantly.

"I'm taking a shot," you muttered, going for your drink but before you could even do so, Tom had already taken it far away from your reach. "Hey!" you whined.

Tom chuckled softly as he shook his head no. "You said it's not part of the game so no, you have to answer," he said. "And that's enough alcohol for you, my love," he cooed, tilting his head at you knowingly with a sweet smile. If Tom will let you continue with the drinking then you'll surely be complaining nonstop about the throbbing headache you'll get and the constant nausea after all this.

You sat back on your chair with your bottom lip jutted out, arms crossed over your chest to match, much like a child as you started to think about your answer. Although the process took way longer than you'd expect it to be and the boys were quick to notice.

"Uh oh, she's having a hard time," Harry teased when a few long seconds has gone by and you still haven't given an answer.

"I don't know how I feel about the hesitation here," Tom admitted as he looked at you curiously, brows furrowing with a chuckle when you were still deep in thought after a few seconds more.

"She genuinely is having a hard time," Tuwaine laughed.

"This is so unfair," you grumbled dejectedly as you looked at your man with a sweet, adorable pout, silently asking for help.

"What'd you do with me first to make things easier," Tom offered with a chuckle.

As if there was a hidden message to his words—there wasn't—your face suddenly lit up, slapping your palms on the table excitedly as you sat straighter. "You know what, kill the other two and I'll fuck and marry you," you declared heartily, eyes locked securely with Tom's with the proudest grin playing on your lips.

Tom's heart did somersaults at the mere fact of you wanting to marry him, grin wide and bright as he stared into your orbs, utmost love glowing in yours that was wholesomely mirrored by his brown ones.

It wasn't long until Tom felt his blood rush down though, heat dancing on his skin as his brain got occupied with the thought of you fucking him too. Certain memories flooded his mind, one after the other that it was getting harder for him to stay calm in his seat.

You are honestly giving him a whiplash with how you make him feel one emotion to another in a span of seconds, though Tom wasn't at all complaining.

"That's not how the game works!" Harrison exclaimed.

"I'm pretty happy with that answer," Tom shrugged with a wide, cocky grin, eyes never leaving yours as he raised a brow at you suggestively. You held his gaze with a tilt of your head, bottom lip caught between your teeth to try and stop your smile from growing.

The interaction didn't go unnoticed by Harry though. "Okay, stop eye-fucking each other you horny teenagers," the younger brother complained.

Tom laughed at that, shifting in his seat as he turned towards the camera. "On that note, we're ending the video there. This has been Tom Holland," he paused, giving you a nod as a cue.

"And Mrs. Holland," you blurted at the camera with a smile, eyes widening once you realised the choice of words you've just used. "Oh wait! No! Fuc—I don't mean no as in 'no,' I meant not yet," you fumbled. "We're not even engaged yet! Don't start with the headlines you." You pointed at the camera in warning.

He shook his head with a chuckle, red tinting his cheeks but pure admiration glowed in his eyes. "You own my fucking heart, you know that? You make me melt all the damn time," Tom gushed through gritted teeth, and it was taking a whole lot of his self-control to not jump over the table and just kiss you senseless. You felt your heart grow at his words but you could only bury your face in your hands with a groan of pure embarrassment. "She's drunk, my apologies," Tom added with a laugh as he turned towards the camera.

"Tipsy, there's a difference," you corrected as you shot him a glare.

Tom chuckled, smiling at you widely before turning back to the lens. "Anyway, see you on the next one and peace!" he finished with the sign and then a salute, Harry throwing out an upturned thumb to signal cut.

Once he saw that the camera was off, Tom was out of his seat in record speed, moving over to your now standing form as he swiftly wrapped both his arms around your waist and crashed his lips onto yours with a low groan. His arms tightened around you as he relished the feeling of finally having you so close.

You giggled against the kiss, resting your arms over his shoulders as you leaned back on the table to keep your balance, your bum half-rested on the marble while your foot stayed steady on the floor, legs apart so that Tom can situate himself between them easily.

"So, fuck and marry me huh?" Tom hummed deeply against your mouth, playfully nibbling at your bottom lip before pulling away so he can see your gorgeous face fully.

"Out of all the things I've said, that's what stuck with you?" you giggled with a shake of your head.

"I mean, you fucking me will never fail to sound very hot, reminds me of the few times you did." Tom wriggled his brows at you suggestively, hands giving your waist as teasing squeeze. "Though I don't know which one's hotter, that or you marrying me," he said with the proudest smirk.

"Will you two take this somewhere else?" Harry complained, always the last one to be left in the room given that he's mostly in-charge with taking care of the camera. Harrison and Tuwaine were already gone, continuing whatever they had to do that day.

"Don't think that would make a difference though," Tom chuckled smugly, looking back at you with a knowing grin.

"Which reminds me how we need to sound proof the fucking walls you nasty rabbits."

"I was kidding. We're not that loud fuck off," Tom remarked, rolling his eyes at his brother.

And to prove how wrong Tom's point was, Harrison suddenly started moaning so piercingly right in the next room, his voice a bit muffled but you can still hear him, loud and obnoxious.

"Fuck! Love! Fuck yes! Just like that, darling! Shit baby I'm gonna—"

"Fuck off Harrison you fucking twat!" Tom yelled at the top of his lungs, the blonde lad's boisterous and annoying laugh echoing soon after.

Tom turned crimson red as the embarrassment coated him from head to toe, head dropping for him to hide his face on the crook of your neck with a groan. You let out a soft giggle, hand landing on the back of his head as you ran your fingers through his hair comfortingly. Your face was warm as you were embarrassed just the same, although there was more of a sense of pride on your behalf because yes, Tom does get a bit loud sometimes, all courtesy to you.

It wasn't always of course, both of you aren't evil enough to torture the lads that much. Aside from the fact that Tom is rarely even home—meaning you don't do the deed that much in this house—the two of you had made a pact to make sure that you're completely alone before properly going at it. Admittedly, it does get a bit hard to keep the noise down sometimes, so the boys have to endure it every now and then. They do get back at you guys soon after as they are quick to be little shits with the teasing and dirty jokes, much like now.

"Maybe we do need to soundproof our walls," you teased once your man pulled away to look at you with a soft sigh, hands running up and down your waist sweetly.

"Or we could finally look for our own place to move in?" Tom proposed with a charming smile, your heart melting at the sight and skipping a beat at his words.

Granted, you've been with Tom for a fair three and a half years already, but neither of you had gone to take that step of actually living fully on your own where it's just no one but him and you in your own home. You've been living in this house for roughly the same time—maybe a year or two less—and you've got no problem living with the lads, you consider them as your brothers now. But you won't deny that having a place exclusively for you and Tom only would be pure bliss.

Of course you've talked about getting your own place and neither of you were opposed to it. It all just came down to Tom being constantly busy and barely even home. You'd rather live with the boys for the mean time than sulk all alone in a house while slowly being buried in the emotions of missing your boyfriend.

Tom also wanted to be there for the most of it—choosing and buying furniture, decorating a thing or two, moving, the likes—but with his schedule, it was hard to find the perfect time.

But now he's promised you that he'd slow down for a bit.

He genuinely hasn't done anything but work nonstop. It was just projects upon projects with only so little breaks in between, a month if he's lucky. Tom is one hardworking man, that's one of the many things you love about him, but he sometimes doesn't realize when he's pushing himself too far.

That's when you step in.

You'd encouraged him to take a breather, even if it's just for half a year or so but you never did pester him about it constantly as you weren't one to take him away from doing what he loves. Unless it gets way out of hand, then that's when you'll be putting your foot down. You know he'll do it whenever he's ready to slow down and now with most of his projects wrapped, he's finally decided that it was the right time to take that much needed break.

"I love the sound of that," you giggled, treading your fingers through his hair before tracing it down his chiseled jaw. "Not as much as I love the sound of you moaning though," you hummed teasingly.

"Well then, let's find our own place so you can hear me moan all for you and as loud as you want, darling," Tom purred lowly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as his darkened orbs bored into yours, his hands sliding down to rest on the swell of your bum. He fondled the flesh hotly as he started to lean closer to capture your lips. But before Tom could even do so a loud voice made you both jump away from each other.

"For fuck's sake guys! I'm still fucking here!" Harry yelled, throwing both his hands in the air in downright annoyance and disgust as he screwed his eyes shut. "Go to your fucking room for the love of my sanity!"

You didn't even get a chance to apologise to the young lad as Tom swiftly grabbed your hand and rushed to your shared bedroom.

Nothing happened though apart from a couple minutes of making out, Tom deciding not to take it further given that you were all tipsy and intoxicated. Him deciding since you were persistent on saying you were fine even though you were giggling nonstop, easily tickled no matter how feather-like his kisses were. Not to mention how you could barely even keep your eyes open. So, both of you ended up taking a warm bath and then a nap right after that, instead.

Although the minute you sobered up, Tom made sure you weren't at all quiet this time around. It was due to the pent up tension that's been building since that somewhat steamy Q&A. And maybe, just maybe to get back at the boys a teeny bit for being little shits with both the teasing jokes and the dirty questions.

The two of you went out of your bedroom only at dinner time, stepping foot in the dining area where Harry, Tuwaine and Harrison were all situated. You felt the embarrassment coat every inch of your body when you took sight of the boys, more specifically, their expressions. Tom, on the other hand, had the cockiest smirk playing on his lips as he held his head high, tauntingly chuckling at his mates.

The three lads were sitting around the table with nothing but grimaces and downright disgust on their faces as they all grumbled in unison,

"Rabbits."

-:-:-:-:-

like, reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! tell me your thoughts! <3

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perpetual-stories · 3 years

Text

How To Fight Writers Block

hello, hello. hope everyone is doing well. as you can all tell, this post will be about how to fight writers block.

it’s really annoying to me when I hear people say “oh you don’t have writers block, you’re just lazy.”

first of all, yes, I am naturally lazy. second of all, how dare you. writing isn’t as easy as many think. granted, all you have to do is write down words on paper, but it’s not always easy to find the right words to express what you are feeling, or what you wish to say.

I have had terrible writer’s block for the last few days and it’s horrible! as a business owner or a small writing store, I have to be ready to write and fulfill my clients’ ideas and orders.

it’s not easy. It takes a heavy toll on my imagination, and digs me a deep pit of blockage, drowning in the lack of originality because of the constant writing and repetition or certain phrases and sentences in different projects.

i am making this post in the hopes to remind myself about over coming the dreaded and sometimes skeptically believed writer’s block.

What is writer’s block?

Yeah, I know. We all know what that is, but let me define it.

is the state of being unable to proceed with writing, and/or the inability to start writing something new

some people believe it to be a real problem, others believe it's “all in your head”

What Causes Writer’s Block?

in the 1970s, clinical psychologists Jerome Singer and Michael Barrios decided to find out

they concluded that there are four broad causes of writer's block:

Excessively harsh self-criticism

Fear of comparison to other writers

Lack of external motivation, like attention and praise

Lack of internal motivation, like the desire to tell one's story

How to overcome writer's block: 20 tips

1. Develop a writing routine:

Author and artist Twyla Tharp once wrote: “Creativity is a habit, and the best creativity is a result of good work habits.”

it might seem counterintuitive

if you only write when you “feel creative,” you're bound to get stuck in a tar pit of writer's block

The only way to push through is by disciplining yourself to write on a regular schedule. It might be every day, every other day, or just on weekends — but whatever it is, stick to it!

2. Use "imperfect" words:

A writer can spend hours looking for the perfect word or phrase to illustrate a concept

You can avoid this fruitless endeavor by putting, “In other words…” and simply writing what you’re thinking, whether it’s eloquent or not

You can then come back and refine it later by doing a CTRL+F search for “in other words.”

3. Do non-writing activities:

one of the best ways to climb out of a writing funk is to take yourself out of your own work and into someone else’s

Go to an exhibition, to the cinema, to a play, a gig, eat a delicious meal

immerse yourself in great STUFF and get your synapses crackling in a different way

Snippets of conversations, sounds, colors, sensations will creep into the space that once felt empty

4. Freewrite through it:

free-writing involves writing for a pre-set amount of time without pause — and without regard for grammar, spelling, or topic. You just write.

The goal of freewriting is to write without second-guessing yourself — free from doubt, apathy, or self-consciousness, all of which contribute to writer's block. Here’s how:

Find the right surroundings. Go somewhere you won't be disturbed.

Pick your writing utensils. Will you type at your computer, or write with pen and paper? (Tip: if you're prone to hitting the backspace button, you should freewrite the old-fashioned way!)

Settle on a time-limit. Your first time around, set your timer for just 10 minutes to get the feel for it. You can gradually increase this interval as you grow more comfortable with freewriting.

5. Relax on your first draft:

Many writers suffer form perfectionism, which is especially debilitating during a first draft

“Blocks often occur because writers put a lot of pressure on themselves to sound ‘right’ the first time. A good way to loosen up and have fun again in a draft is to give yourself permission to write imperfectly.” — editor Lauren Hughes

perfect is the enemy of good,” so don't agonize about getting it exactly right! You can always go back and edit, maybe even get a second pair of eyes on the manuscript

6. Don’t start at the beginning:

the most intimidating part of writing is the start, when you have a whole empty book to fill with coherent words

instead of starting with the chronological beginning of whatever it is you’re trying to write, dive into middle, or wherever you feel confident

7. Take a shower:

Have you ever noticed that the best ideas tend to arrive while in the shower, or while doing other “mindless” tasks?

research shows that when you’re doing something monotonous (such as showering, walking, or cleaning), your brain goes on autopilot, leaving your unconscious free to wander without logic-driven restrictions

showering is my favourite thing to do if I may add

8. Balance your inner critic:

successful writers have in common is the ability to hear their inner critic, respectfully acknowledge its points, and move forward

You don't need to completely ignore that critical voice, nor should you cower before it

you must establish a respectful, balanced relationship, so you can address what's necessary and skip over what's insecure and irrelevant

9. Switch up your tool:

a change of scenery can really help with writer's block. However, that scenery doesn't have to be your physical location — changing up your writing tool can be just as big a help!

if you’ve been typing on your word processor of choice, try switching to pen and paper. Or if you're just sick of Google Docs, consider using specialized novel writing software.

10. Change your POV:

great advice from editor Lauren Hughes: “When blocked, try to see your story from another perspective ‘in the room’ to help yourself move beyond the block. How might a minor character narrate the scene if they were witnessing it? A ‘fly on the wall’ or another inanimate object?

11. Exercise your creative muscles:

Any skill requires practice if you want to improve, and writing is no different! So if you’re feeling stuck, perhaps it’s time for a strengthening scribble-session to bolster your abilities

12. Map out your story:

If your story has stopped chugging along, help it pick up steam by taking a more structured approach — specifically, by writing an outline

13. Write something else:

Though it's important to try and push through writer's block with what you're actually working on, sometimes it's simply impossible

feel free to push your current piece to the side for now and write something new

14. Work on your characters:

It follows that if your characters are not clearly defined, you’re more likely to run into writer’s block

15. Stop writing for readers:

write for yourself, not your potential readers

this will help you reclaim the joy of being creative and get you back in touch with what matters: the story.

this is something I really need to do. because of my etsy business i don't write for fun anymore, but instead as a business and a deadline. i'm going to have to pull out my old crappy wattled fanfics or write some new ones.

16. Try a more visual process:

when words fail you, forget them and get visual. Create mind maps, drawings, Lego structures — ideally related to your story, but whatever unblocks your mind!

17. Look for the root of it:

writer’s block often comes from a problem deeper than simple “lack of inspiration.” So let's dig deep: why are you really blocked? Ask yourself the following questions:

Do I feel pressure to succeed and/or competition with other writers?

Have I lost sight of what my story is about, or interest in where it's going?

Do I lack confidence in my own abilities, even if I've written plenty before?

Have I not written for so long that I feel intimidated by the mere act?

Am I simply feeling tired and run-down?

once you identify what's wrong, it'll be so much easier to fix.

18. Quit the Internet:

If willpower isn’t your strong suit and your biggest challenge is staying focused, try a site blocker like Freedom or an app like Cold Turkey

19. Let the words find you:

meditate, go for a walk, take that shower

Word Palette is a great app that features a keyboard of random words, allowing you to simply click your way to your next masterpiece.

You can also try AI auto-completers like Talk to Transformer, where you can enter a phrase and let the app “guess what comes next.”

even though they often produce nonsense, it's a great way to help that writer's block.

20. Write like Hemingway:

And if your biggest block is your own self-doubt about your prose, Hemingway offers suggestions to improve your writing as you go

it's a pretty cool app if you ask me.

it highlights your sentences (if need be) and makes suggestions on how to improve them!

well, there you have it! a lengthy post on how to fight writer's block. now i just hope i can combat my own soon.

like, comment and reblog if you find this useful! feel free to reblog in instagram and tag me perpetualstories

Follow me on instagram and tumblr for more writing and grammar tips and more!

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #original writing #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writersconnection #writersofig #writersofinstagram #writings

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crescentsteel · 3 years

Text

When in Brazil - Heat

pairing: Hinata x f!reader x Oikawa genre: SMUT wc: 12.1k (I don’t have excuses anymore. Bear with me pls) warnings: threesome, double penetration (all holes involved byee), anal, oral (giving and receiving), degradation, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, dumbification, squirting

[a/n]

For maximum experience, you have to read the series chronologically for context.

Can you believe it? This took me more than a month to finalize because the Oikawa-Hinata dynamic is fucking hard to polish.

I'm staying away from writing smut after this (don't quote me on this).

I need to bathe with holy water after this.

Enjoy, I guess?

Here’s the AO3 link in case tumblr is being shit and crashes on you.

MASTERLIST

The day is almost over, yet it feels like the minutes are ticking by too slowly. You just want to go home. You’re in the diner but all you can think about is throwing yourself onto your mattress and sleeping off the weariness brought by the surge of customers on a Friday night. To make things worse, Shoyo is not doing deliveries today so you have to close the diner all on your own.

You release a burdened sigh before you plaster a rehearsed smile on your already exhausted face. When you are able to recollect yourself, you go back to the array of customers waiting to be attended to.

Amongst the seated crowd is an all too familiar tangerine that stood out effortlessly. He’s never been in your diner as a customer, so seeing him as such is a nice change.

He’s with someone and is so engrossed with their lively conversation that he doesn’t notice you at all. Despite that, it’s still nice to see him. You always see him working so hard that it’s comforting to watch him hanging out and having fun with others.

You’re probably staring because his eyes suddenly dart to you.

Of course, Shoyo being the sunshine that he is, he gives you a warm smile and a friendly wave that you take as your signal to come over to their table.

“Fancy seeing you as a customer, Shoyo,” you say just as affectionately as his smile is. “You brought a friend too,” you add as you turn your head to greet his company.

Once your eyes land on his friend, you feel the strain in your facial muscles as you try to maintain the smile you’re wearing.

It’s the fucking tourist!

“Ms. Local!” he yells out with familiarity and delight dancing in his surprised eyes.

“You know each other?” Shoyo asks.

You and the tourist speak at the same time.

“No.” “Yes.”

Shoyo looks back and forth at you and the tourist with apparent confusion.

“He must be mistaken.” Despite the panic that’s starting to rise in your chest, you’re able to maintain a calm facade. “I don’t know him,” you add confidently because it’s the truth. You don’t know him aside from two facts you got from his last time: he’s a volleyball player from Argentina and he’s a hot scum of a tourist.

You give the tourist the most hospitable smile you can muster, hoping that he’s actually decent enough to get the drift.

He looks at you from head to toe before an amused grin forms on his lips. He rests his elbow on the table and lazily places his cheek on his palm. “She’s right, Shorty pie. I was mistaken. I actually don’t know her too,” the tourist says as he regards you meaningfully.

Shorty pie? Did he just address Shoyo as shorty pie? How snotty! Shoyo is not that short.

“Y/n, this is the great king, I mean, Oikawa-san, I mean uhhhh,” Shoyo turns the tourist and says something in Japanese. You try to get cues as to what they’re talking about but the language is incredibly different. You might’ve found it rude but it was Shoyo who did it. You can’t imagine him saying anything bad about you.

The tourist faces you with a wide smile. “You can call me Tooru, Ms. Local,” he introduces himself.

“Her name is Y/n, Oikawa-san,” Shoyo kindly corrects Tooru, not a drop of suspicion present in his tone.

“Right! Y/n it is.” He continues staring at you with a very smug look on his face that makes you want to kick him out of the diner. But even if you were the owner, you can’t do it without letting Shoyo know why.

You distract yourself and turn your full attention to Shoyo. “So, what’re you boys getting?” you ask cordially.

“Let me ask him, y/n. It’s his treat.” Shoyo faces his annoying company. You softly tap your feet on the floor and refuse to get back to Tooru, hoping that it’ll still be Shoyo who’s going to order for the both of them.

“Y/n, hallooo.”

It’s taking everything in you not to roll your eyes and exhibit a grouchy behavior unacceptable towards a customer. Goddamn it, you can’t even sigh to calm yourself down.

You force yourself to face him and let out a high-pitched “Yes?” paired with a feigned smile.

He chuckles uninhibitedly before he answers. “Actually, I don’t know what to order. I just wanted you to look at me,” he admits without any trace of shame.

You try to laugh your irritation away but it comes out awkward and loud that some of the customers near their table turn their eyes at you.

You clear your throat to shake off the embarrassment. “Since you’re undecided, Sir. We’ll get you our three best sellers which will take no more than 20 minutes to prepare. I’ll be back when it’s ready,” you say all at once. You don’t wait for their response as you turn around and hurry back to the kitchen.

You tell the cook their order and excuse yourself to go to the restroom.

As soon as you close the door, you cover your face with both hands and pour a regret-filled squeal onto your palms.

You certainly have been complaining about life being dull and repetitive. But this is too much of a mayhem for you to handle!

Out of all the strangers you could’ve possibly slept with, it had to be someone Shoyo knows. Fuck! What if the tourist, what’s his name again? You were too busy panicking that you didn’t even catch his name when he said it. It was something like Tori? Taurus? Tooru!

Tooru, the scumbag tourist.

His name is not really that important though. What’s more pressing is the possibility that he might tell Shoyo.

You really like your lively and good-natured friend. You don’t want him to think you’re a lady of loose morals for sleeping around.

Loud knocks on the door pull you back to the reality that you need to get back out there. You can’t stay in the restroom room wishing you can turn back time, even though you do. You wish you just stayed home the night you crossed paths with the tourist.

You take a deep breath and step out.

“What took you so long? Orders are piling up in the kitchen,” your fellow waiter reprimands you.

“Sorry,” you apologize before hurrying to the kitchen. You take the cooked meals and get them to their respective tables.

When the tourist and Shoyo’s order comes in, you collect yourself for a quick second prior to heading back to where they are. Despite dreading each step you take towards them, you manage to get there with an amicable smile.

“Here you go,” you announce as you put down their plates.

Even when you try your best to ignore the tourist by focusing all your attention on Shoyo, you can feel his avid stare boring onto your face. You’re just glad he’s not talking at all, so you don’t have a reason to face him.

“Thanks, y/n!” Shoyo says appreciatively which eases your discomfort a bit from having Tooru ogle at you.

“Anytime,” you respond just as kindly and head back to the kitchen. A huge wave of relief hits you when you’re finally away from their table.

Oikawa follows the sight of your back as you leave. What were the chances he would see you again? You gave him nada after your sexy encounter that night, not even a name. So you both parted ways still as strangers. What’s even more amusing is the fact that you’re friends with Shorty.

The world just couldn’t get any smaller - seeing Shoyo out of pure coincidence on the beach. Then finding you here when you didn’t want to be found.

He turns his attention back at his former opponent and finds Shoyo’s gaze at you as well. The glimmer of fondness is blatant on his eyes as they linger on your back.

“Shoyo,” Oikawa calls out.

The short volleyball player instantly flicks his eyes back to Oikawa, oblivious that he was just gawking at you.

“Do you like her?” Oikawa asks, straight to the point.

A faint blush pops out of his tanned cheeks as his eyes go wide, an instant giveaway that Oikawa hit the bull’s eye.

Shoyo breaks into a flustered smile while he rubs the back of his neck from embarrassment. “Yeah. She’s a good friend,” he states, his eyes shining with less than innocent admiration as he looks back at the direction you disappeared in.

Holy shit. Holy Shit. You fucked Shorty too!

Upon the realization, a chuckle escapes his mouth before he can thwart it. No wonder you came up with that spot on guess before. You got the story from someone who did the same.

A small world indeed.

Shoyo is probably the good fuck you were talking about that night. Looking at the former middle blocker, he certainly didn’t think that Shoyo would have enough experience in the bedroom to be considered a “good fuck.”

Interesting.

“Why don’t you invite her to watch us play tomorrow?” he suggests.

Shoyo’s face brightens up with excitement from his suggestion. “Yeah! I think she’ll want to. I told her that I play volleyball and stuff.”

He leans back on his chair as he grins from Shoyo’s response.

“Should be fun, right?” he asks with hidden deviousness.

—

When Shoyo asked you to watch their game, your understanding by ‘their’ is him and another local he regularly plays with. Not him and the freaking tourist!

If you had known, you would have politely declined.

Now, you’re sitting there on the sands of Copacabana with nothing but foreboding as you watch them start the game with two other players.

You know close to nothing about volleyball. You only came out of curiosity because Shoyo talks about it like it’s his life. Maybe it is. He did come all the way from Japan to a foreign country all on his own.

And so did Tooru.

You’re just starting to wonder if he loves the sport just as much Shoyo does, but you don’t wonder for too long. He gives you the answer with the way he plays.

Knowing that you’ll be watching two grown men playing, you expected them to be show-offs impressing the girl they invited to watch. However, they don’t even spare you a glance after they get a point in.

You don’t take offense in it though. Instead, you find yourself growing envious of them. Their personalities are so different but the look of passion and determination is burning similarly not just on their faces, but on their whole being.

Tooru is still a tricky scum in your eyes. But when he’s playing, he looks larger than life and brimming with pride and dignity. His cocky smirk is still there, but it’s more of an affirmation to himself and Shoyo that they’re doing hell of a good teamwork.

Shoyo, on the other hand, is all smiles and easy going everytime you talk to him. He still is inside the sandy court, but he’s intensely focused and totally lost in the game that sometimes, very briefly, he almost seems scary.

It’s so strange. One second they’re totally immersed and serious, then on the next they’re suddenly grinning and laughing even if they didn’t score a point.

You’d think they were teammates before from how they seem to communicate without really saying anything. But if they were then, Shoyo would have undoubtedly told you about him.

When the game ends, the two of them share victorious smiles. Why wouldn’t they? They did snatch the game. They’re so earnest and driven that you can’t help but be in awe, despite the one of them being real shady.

They both head towards your direction, Shoyo almost running towards you while Tooru striding slowly with pride.

Your attention inevitably goes to the orange ball of energy first. “Were you watching, y/n?” he asks while trying to catch his breath. He must’ve been really absorbed in the game that he didn’t notice you arrive earlier.

“You did great, Shoyo!” you sincerely applaud him as the tourist catches up to where you are.

“You too, uhh, Tooru,” you commend him awkwardly. Until now, you’ve only called him ‘tourist,’ so saying his actual name feels weird.

“I didn’t expect you’d let me toss to you, Oikawa-san,” Shoyo says with the thrill of the game still oozing from him.

“Would be a waste if we don’t try something totally new when the opportunity is there,” Tooru responds just as high-spiritedly, but you feel off about how he calls Shoyo.

“Why do you let him call you such names?” you ask Shoyo even when the tourist is right beside him.

Shoyo just laughs it off, obviously not minding the rude nicknames. “It’s actually comforting, y/n. It reminds me of home,” he says with a nostalgic smile that makes you feel bad about his situation. He misses home so much that even rude nicknames are welcome because it brings him closer to it.

“Should I call you ‘Shorty’ too?” you sincerely ask but he only grimaces. Meanwhile, Tooru laughs to his heart’s content.

“Sorry! I thought you’d like it.”

“Not from you, y/n,” Shoyo sulks a little, but buries the misunderstanding immediately. “Anyways, should I walk you home tonight?”

You appreciate the thought. It has been a while since you had the pleasure of his company.

“Yea, please do.”

“Can I come?” the tourist butts in, reminding you that he’s also there.

“Aren’t your teammates waiting for you?” you ask, subtly shooing him away. You saw the two men he was talking to earlier. Judging from the language they spoke, which was undoubtedly Spanish, and their athletic build, you concluded they were his teammates.

“Nope. I asked them to go ahead,” he shrugs and flashes you that too-charming smile he has.

“Oh, why?” you ask amicably to hide your distrust of him.

“It’s my last night here and I thought, why not make friends with a local?”

You don’t buy it, but it would seem strange to Shoyo if you blatantly refuse Tooru. In Shoyo’s eyes, you and Tooru haven’t met before. It would be suspicious for you to be so wary of him when he’s been ‘nice’ when Shoyo’s around.

So you agree. You won’t see him anymore after tonight anyways. A walk home won’t do any harm.

When you reach your place, only then it dawns on you that if you invite Shoyo inside, you’d have to offer the same invitation to the tourist out of common courtesy. You really want to let Shoyo in, but if they come in pairs, you’d rather invite your friend another night.

Your turn around and what awaits you is Shoyo’s hopeful, hazel orbs.

Meu Deus, how can you refuse him when he’s looking at you like that?

You go to the kitchen to grab one glass of water for each of the two men in your living room.

You tell yourself that everything’s all good and harmless when you invited them in. If it was Tooru only, it would’ve been a different story. You wouldn’t have even allowed him to walk you home.

But since Shoyo is there, you feel somewhat safe. The tourist might be douchey but surely he won’t do anything with your tangerine friend around. They won’t stay long anyways, so it should be fine.

You close your fridge when you hear Shoyo’s familiar footsteps.

“Y/n?” He stops briefly on his tracks when you turn to him.

“Yeah?” you respond before he continues making his way to you. “What’s wrong?”

He’s only a step away when his profile reveals a somber expression he’s never shown you before. “Did you really do it with Oikawa-san?”

You feel the rapid increase of your heartbeat from his question. Did Tooru tell him about it while you were in the kitchen? To think that you were starting to believe that the tourist is not as bad as you thought since he’s been amenable the whole night. He proves you wrong before you actually believe that idea.

Now you have no choice but to admit it to Shoyo because you don’t have the heart to lie to him.

“It’s okay, y/n. He told me he tricked you into it,” he tells you with a sad yet understanding look on his face.

“Are you… disappointed at me?” you ask guiltily.

He shakes his head instantly. “No, but...” He averts his eyes downwards, dejection clear and evident on them. “We’re not going to do it anymore, aren’t we?” His tone drops woefully with his assumption.

Oh goodness, he’s so adorable. It’s like one of his favorite things was taken away from him. You would’ve dragged him in your room right now to prove him wrong if it isn’t for your other visitor in the living room.

Instead, you grab his hand and pull him closer to you as you lean back on the counter. You cup his chin to raise his gaze back to you.

“I missed you,” you tell him rather than directly answering his question. You move your hand from his chin to his cheek before you claim his lips. Like an automatic response, he envelops his hands around your waist.

He really is the sun, not only bringing rays of joy to you, but also heats you up all the way to sinful madness.

His hands drop down your behind and gropes them to draw you towards his body, letting you know how excited he’s getting just from kissing and holding you.

You still haven’t had your fill of his lips when he lets go of yours. “Did you feel good with him, y/n?” he asks, centimeters away from your mouth.

You pull back slightly from surprise. “Why are you asking that?” You try to decipher what he’s thinking but you can only see his need for you as you stare at him.

“I want to know how to make you feel better,” he says as an ounce of insecurity bares itself for you to see. You drape your hand from his neck down to his chest, caressing the broadness of it. “You already know how to make me feel good, Shoyo,” you say as you offer him a gentle smile.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he persists.

You sigh when you realize that he’s not going to let this go unless you answer him. “I don’t like him, but yeaa... it felt good,” you look away as soon as you admit it. You don’t know how he’ll react, but you know that wouldn’t be able to take it if he looks at you with disappointment or disgust.

To your surprise, he pulls you close again and rests his cheek against yours. He asks something too softly -- something you wouldn’t hear had he not been standing so close. “Can I watch him do it?”

You flinch away from his hold with eyes wide from the appalling question. “What?!”

Shoyo becomes alarmed at your reaction and completely releases you. “But if you don’t want to, it’s fine!”

He waves hands mid-air, panicking at how aghast you are from what he said. “We just thought it would feel good for you. Ahhhh.” He rubs his face with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m getting way ahead of myself,” he apologizes with a regretful look.

Tooru must have told him prior to tonight. If they talked about you to that extent, the little time they had in your living room wouldn’t have been enough. Shoyo knew even while they were playing and he didn’t treat you differently.

Meanwhile, that tourist was acting all goody-goody because he’d already told your friend that you two fucked. You only become more annoyed when you realize that the idea couldn’t have possibly come from your adored friend.

You squint at Shoyo as you ask him. “He put you up to this, didn’t he?”

Shoyo looks up, genuinely unsure how to answer you. “Uhh. He said I could learn a thing or two from him.”

You laugh dryly from the lack of words that could describe your vexation towards Tooru. The audacity of that fucking tourist! How dare he think that he’s any better than Shoyo. How dare he make Shoyo believe that he’s the lesser sex partner.

“Y/n?” Shoyo must have noticed your silent fury because he looks concerned when he returns his gaze to you.

You give him a too-sweet grin despite the exasperation boiling in your chest. “You know what? He can join, but he’ll be the one watching.”

You drag Shoyo back to the living room, ignoring him as he utters words of disbelief that you’re too mad to understand.

When you meet Tooru’s gaze, he gives you a knowing smile which you return with a resentful one.

“Shoyo, can you go to my bedroom first? We’ll be there soon,” you say while you keep your eyes trained on Tooru.

“Can’t I know what you’re going to talk about?” Shoyo sounds almost sulking, but you don’t deter. You turn to him with a pout of your own.

“I promise we’ll be there soon, mkay?” You stroke his hand which you’re still holding.

Shoyo nods and obediently heads inside your room.

You march to Tooru and yank his collar. Despite being surprised by your action, he looks pleased with your aggressiveness.

“Congratulations, Tourist. You successfully earned yourself a threesome,” you spit out, but he only smiles with satisfaction as you just consented to what he’s probably going for. “Now listen to me and listen well. You will be the one doing the watching. You will remain seated while you watch Shoyo fuck me. You don’t get to join unless I let you. Do whatever you want - jack off, drool, have a seizure, I don’t give a shit. But if you make yourself cum, you don’t get to touch me. Got that?”

He only blinks at your litany of rules, but you trust him to be smart enough to get that in one go. Quickly enough, he lets out a short whistle as he reiterates your rules in just one sentence.

“Basically, no touching and no cumming from me, right?” he states with a pleased grin that makes you want to punch his pretty face.

But you have better plans, so you let him go and join Shoyo in the bedroom. You don’t have to tell Tooru to follow. He stands up on his own and heads for the bedroom a few steps behind you.

When you get in your room, you find Shoyo sitting at the edge of your bed. He looks so worried, looking at his feet while fiddling with his hands. You feel bad that you kind left him out in the dark because you’re too pissed at the tourist’s presumptuousness.

You sit beside Shoyo and grab his hand. He eyes you fretfully, obviously addled at what’s going to happen next. Rather than explaining, you cup his cheek and moor your mouth to his. You straddle him while your other hand clutches his hair. His palms immediately get underneath your shirt, skimming the bare skin of your sides while your lips ravage one another.

Shoyo suddenly pulls back, his confusion now mixed with lust as he looks up at you. “What about Oikawa-san?” he huffs.

“Don’t mind him,” you mutter on his lips as you descend on them once again.

Shoyo doesn’t ask further, discarding his qualms earlier and heeding your instruction like the good guy he is. He rids you of the top you’re wearing, his palm immediately covering the softness of your clad breast while his mouth seeks the weak spot on your neck. When he does find it, you reward him by pressing your groin against his.

You can’t help but laugh a little at how his arousal is already poking beneath his shorts. “You’re already hard, Shoyo.”

He doesn’t respond and proceeds to unclasp your bra that’s preventing him from feeling your bare breasts.

Like he always does, he takes a moment to revel at your half nakedness like it’s the first time he’s seeing you as such. And like every time he does it, he never fails to make you feel like you a marvel to look at.

“So pretty,” he murmurs to himself.

He plants fervid kisses on your chest until his mouth captures a perk bud. The action causes you to grind on his lap, attending to the ache that’s settling in your groin.

You itch to roam your hands on his body and groans with disappointment that it isn’t his skin you’re touching. He hears it and does you a favor by quickly discarding his muscle tee.

“Shoyo,” you whisper with brewing desire as your hands travel from his neck down to his chest.

“Yes?” he asks, completely bewitched even when you’re only half naked.

“I really missed you.”

You feel his erection grow even more while his face shines with adulation from your statement. He grips both cheeks of your ass and takes it upon himself to roll your hips again on his bulge.

“I missed you too, y/n,” he says before resuming what his mouth was doing earlier: devotedly twirling his tongue around one hardened bud while his fingers fiddle with the other. With already several visits from him after work hours, he’s well familiar with how you want to be had.

He demonstrates so by gently tugging your nipples with his teeth and fingers, making you cry out from the slight pang that heightened your craving for more.

You’re reminded that someone else is in the room when your wooden chair creaks audibly for you to hear. Shoyo is doing such a great job of taking you to a scandalous place far away from your mundane room that you almost forget that Tooru is there.

You take one quick look at the pretty guy sitting on your chair. He’s doing as he’s told and is watching intently, particularly at where Shoyo’s mouth is.

As much as you want to totally lose yourself in the sensation of Shoyo’s hands and mouth, you have to show Tooru what he missed on that one night of encounter.

You clutch Shoyo’s hair to pull him away from your body, earning yourself a baffled Shoyo when you get off his lap. You just smile reassuringly at him as you get on your knees. You try to lug his shorts down but fails as he remains seated, totally beguiled at the sight of you kneeling down for him.

You look up to him doe-eyed as you ask him, “Won’t you help me a little here, Shoyo?”

He snaps out of his daze from your question. “Ah! Yes, yes. Sorry.” He does the work for you and hurriedly pulls his shorts and undergarments down.

You squirm on your knees at the sight of his swollen cock. It’s been a while since you did it with him that you find yourself more than eager to have him inside you again; whether in your mouth or somewhere further down, you can’t decide.

Once again, the tourist distracts you when he lets out a whistle. “Damn. Who knew?”

You can’t help but agree with him. When you first saw Shoyo’s size, you were shocked as well. He, however, doesn’t get what Tooru is talking about. He eyes Tooru worriedly as he asks confusedly, “What?”

Tooru doesn’t answer Shoyo and just grins at him, so he turns to you instead. “What’s he talking about, y/n?”

You respond by gripping the base of his cock and taking him slowly in your mouth. You hear him hiss as his hand grabs the back of your head.

“Ahhh. So warm.”

You look at him and find him with lips parted and eyes shut as he relishes the way you gradually swallow his size.

Once your lips reach the hilt of his shaft, you drag your lips back up and release his cock. Instead of sucking it again, you tease him by flicking your tongue on his tip, twirling the hot, moist muscle around it whenever you feel like it.

Shoyo clutches your hair, oblivious to the strength he put behind it as he unknowingly forces you to meet his pleading eyes.

“Suck it again please,” he asks nicely despite his tight grip on your hair.

You smile tenderly at him, tracing the length of his cock with your tongue before engulfing it once again with your mouth. As you descend on him, you lock eyes with Tooru, making sure that he’s watching how devoutly you’re tending to Shoyo’s desires.

Satisfaction kicks in when you notice the undeniable bulge on his shorts as he keeps his eyes on you and Shoyo. This is supposed to be a show for him, but you feel yourself getting wetter from Shoyo’s whines and how Tooru is starting to palm his erection above the fabric of his shorts.

Shoyo takes hold of your attention again when he starts thrusting against your mouth, causing you to whimper on his dick. You squeeze his thighs to signal him to slow down. He stops completely, letting you withdraw away so you can breathe.

He opens his eyes and trails his hand from the back of your head to your cheek. “Sorry, y/n. It’s starting to feel really good,” he explains apologetically.

You offer him a delicate smile right before you descend your mouth on the whole of his cock in one swift motion, the tip of his cock tickling the back of your throat.

“ Ah! ” He throws his head back from the sudden movement.

“Shit,” you hear the man seated across the foot of the bed curse. You turn your eyes on him and witness how he frees his bulge from his shorts. He fists it slowly, matching the bob of your head on Shoyo’s dick. You quicken your pace and his hand mirrors it as well.

You unzip your shorts, unable to help yourself. Without bothering to remove them, you slip your hands in and touch the moistness of your slit. You moan at Shoyo’s cock as you feel the pads of your fingers on your slick arousal.

“Stop touching yourself, y/n. I’ll do it with my mouth later. Make me feel good first.” Uncontained desire is swimming on Shoyo’s orbs as he stares at you while his mouth pants with need.

You pull out your hand and plant it on the side of his thigh as you suck faster, hoping that he’ll cum soon so his tongue can replace what your fingers were doing.

Your pussy is throbbing so hard from how he’s learning so well. He pulled the same card you did the first time you sucked him off and it’s turning you on even more that you have to clench your thighs together just so you can ease your arousal a little bit.

“Let me do it,” you hear Tooru’s breathy suggestion. You’re not surprised that he noticed. After all, watching is all he’s allowed to do.

Shoyo gently pulls your head back as he asks, “Do you want him to?”

With his dick still stuffed in your mouth, you shake your head to answer ‘no.’ You want to alleviate the delicious tension between your legs, but you want Tooru to remain where he’s seated for a while more.

“I can do it well, y/n. I’ll trace my tongue on your cunt the way my fingers did on that beach. Let me taste you. I’ll get you even wetter with my mouth.”

You grip Shoyo’s thighs as you moan on his dick from Tooru’s lewd words. You didn’t want him to touch you yet, but the visceral imagery he provided you is making your lubricious needs unbearable.

You look at Tooru as you tell him with a wavering voice, “Come here.”

“Finally,” he says as he tucks his rigid member back in his shorts and rushes to where you are.

Shoyo helps you stand up and positions your back against the headboard of your bed. Meanwhile, you feel Oikawa’s hands grasp the seams of your shorts.

You’ve already unzipped it earlier so all he needs to do is pull it down, which he easily does as you lift your hips up for him.

“Please don’t forget I’m here, y/n,” Shoyo reminds you with a sullen tone.

Oikawa spreads your legs while you weakly grab Shoyo’s dick. You pump him a few times before taking him again in your mouth. At the same time, Tooru gives your already moist slit a well drawn out lick.

Your groan vibrates on Shoyo’s cock as your thighs involuntarily press together. Strong hands placed on both thighs prevent them from doing so as Tooru swirls his tongue on your throbbing clit.

The delicious strokes of his tongue lapping up your juices are incredibly distracting, making you a drooling mess on Shoyo’s cock. You grip his shaft to regain some control as you start quickening the bob of your head, your fingers hitting your lips as you take him fast and deep.

Tooru distracts you even further when he roughly pushes two fingers in without any warning. “Oh my, would you look at that?” He laughs right between your legs. “My two fingers easily got in,” he says and starts languidly pulling them in and out of you.

You want to say something but Shoyo beats you to it. “Please don’t stop, y/n. I’m about to-uugghh .”

He starts taking shallow breaths while he keeps his hazy eyes on you. “Can I cum in your… in your mouth?” he asks as he starts staggering his hips faster than the bob of your head.

You give him a small nod, trying your very best to continue sucking him even though Tooru’s fingers are sending you to another kind of delirium.

Shoyo’s moans permeate the air as his orgasm erupts in your right in your mouth. “ Ahh, ahhhh, y/n, am cumming ,” he says before his hand goes to the back of your head and shoves his length at your throat, forcing you to swallow the entirety of his load.

“Holy shit,” you hear Tooru say as he stills his fingers inside you.

Shoyo eases his grip on your hair as he releases a satisfied huff. Your jaw feels relief as you remove your mouth off his member.

He takes his seat at the bed as he steadies himself again.

“I didn’t think you’d be one to swallow.” You turn to Tooru and see him no longer situated in front of your crotch.

He stands up and takes off all his clothes without any shame. You stare at his glorious nakedness, acknowledging that the last time’s encounter did not allow you any of the view he’s currently gracing you with.

His face isn’t the only pretty thing about him, it’s everything. And you can tell he knows it with how proud his strides are as he makes his way beside you.

Your dazed eyes follow him as he rests his back on the headboard.

“This is when you sit on my cock, y/n,” he says with that fraudulent smile of his. He’s so damn infuriating, yet, you can’t deny that you want to do exactly as he said. His tongue on your dripping pussy did nothing but fan the flickers of arousal in your stomach, so even if you still despise him, you don’t mind being fucked by him. You already know he’s not going to disappoint anyway.

You climb on top of him with an irritated expression and a soaked cunt that coats the tip of his member. “Please stop talking. Don’t make me hate myself for being horny over you,” you state almost resignedly. Levity spreads across his gorgeous face as a laugh starts to rumble from his throat.

“You’re so funny, y/n! I knew I made the right choice to fuck you that night,” he says with mirthful smile. You ignore him completely, tuning out his fatuousness as you align your entrance to his cock that’s been poking at you.

You anchor yourself with one hand on his shoulder while your other seizes his member for you to descend on.

“Oh no no no~” He grips your hips and stops you. “Why are you in a hurry? We have all night, don’t we?” He asks as he trails his fingers on the sides of your hip, effectively heightening your wanton desire to be stuffed by him.

You shake your head ferociously as you remember how intense he teased you and edged you on the beach. “None of that teasing crap anymore,” you say as an infuriated plea.

“Hmmm, “ he hums as he thinks about your belligerent request. “Kiss me first,” he says in a light tone but you hear the smidge of authority behind it. You gladly oblige as you hurriedly reach for his mouth.

Replicating what he did with his fingers, he fastens his grasp on your hips and rams you down on his cock. Your moan falls on his mouth mixed with his own. He pulls away from your lips, a string of translucent liquid connecting his to yours.

“Ahh, Ms. Local. You look so hot with that lewd expression on your face,” he says, his eyes hazy with his own dark, sinful yet alluring desires. “Since you wanted to be fucked so bad, why don’t you move for us?” he asks before he goes for that exact spot on your neck that makes you weak.

You start grinding against him, taking your time to revel at the feeling of his cock rubbing against your dewy insides. He startles your slow rhythm when you feel the sharp sting of his palm on one ass cheek.

You yelp out from the sudden pang burning on your skin. “Seriously, y/n? That’s really all you got?” he taunts while his hand on the other cheek caresses it, a soft warning that the same slap is about to hit it too.

Fuck. What even gave you the idea that you can take charge of this asshole? You kinda feel stupid now from your naivety and from how he’s making you lose yourself from the painful delight he just inflicted on you.

“Oikawa-san! Why are you hitting her?” Shoyo voices out his concern which makes Tooru’s hand still from its circular caresses over it.

Tooru weaves his head to the side to look at Shoyo while you slouch and rest your head on Tooru’s shoulders.

“You don’t?” he asks inquisitively to the other naked man on your bed.

“Why would I do that? I don’t want to hurt her,” Shoyo responds out of genuine concern that it makes your heart melt despite being impaled with the cock of another guy.

Tooru chuckles at his innocence before inviting him, “Sit beside us and watch, Shoyo.”

You feel the shift of the cushion beside you, indicating that Shoyo had followed Tooru’s suggestion.

“Ready to show your precious Shoyo how perverted you are?” Tooru whispers to you, delivering a wet stripe on your ear.

You struggle to hide your face on his shoulders as you answer him with a quivering “no.” The spank that follows is harder than the previous one, forcing you to throw your head back as you wobble from the pain.

“See, Shoyo-kun?” Tooru turns to your friend, treating you like an educational material for him to learn from. Meanwhile, the tangerine remains silent and eyes you with awe from discovering this side of you that even you weren’t aware of.

Your mouth gapes open while you try to think of something to explain yourself to Shoyo as you meet his gaze. Tooru makes use of the opportunity and sticks in his fingers inside your mouth.

You turn your attention to Tooru, a bunch of incoherent words coming from how he’s violating your wet cavern with his digits. Your plan to defend yourself to Shoyo is discarded when Tooru moves your hips against him with just one hand.

You go with the rhythm he’s setting while he thrusts his fingers inside your mouth.

“Hhhrrrmmm ,” you moan disorderly on his slender digits, making its owner chuckle with grisly amusement.

“She likes it,” Shoyo comments like he’s figured out what Tooru was talking about.

“Damn right she does.” Tooru presses his pads firmly on your tongue, coercing you to open your mouth wider. Then he trails his digits down, leaving your tongue lolling out of your mouth while his drenched fingers turn their attention to one nipple. To reinforce his point further, he pinches it, eliciting a pained groan from you as you shut your eyes.

“Wanna try for yourself, Shoyo-kun?” Tooru asks as he lays his grip back on your butt.

With your eyes closed, you don’t see how he reacts. You just feel him settle himself kneeling behind you and a different set of thicker fingers replace Tooru’s.

“Like this?” You can tell that it’s not you Shoyo’s talking to with how he’s obstructing your mouth from forming anything comprehensible. You feel the other set of digits find their way on your tits, making use of the slick that Tooru gathered from your mouth and fiddle with it.

“Do you feel good like this, y/n?”

You shudder from the feel of Shoyo’s lips on your ears. As always, he never fails to ask for validation if he’s making you feel good enough. At the same time, Tooru starts picking up the pace of how he’s rolling your hips against him, rendering you unable to respond to Shoyo’s question.

You can only interchange moans and whines from the different sources of pleasure swiftly leading you to grasp the edges of your climax.

Shoyo continues adoring you with his fingers at work and his mouth trailing zealous kisses from the back of your ear to the column of your neck. You feel his cock raging once again as it rubs on your ass while Tooru guides your pelvis to grind on him.

“Shoyoeeehhmmmm .”

He removes his fingers off your mouth and plays with your other nipple that’s been craving for attention. His tongue takes the place of his fingers as he slides it inside your mouth while he kneads your supple mounds. He starts grinding on your back as well, taking whatever pleasure he can get from the friction.

“Don’t forget I’m here too,” Tooru harshly reminds you of his presence when he puts a thumb over your clit and rubs the bud in brutal circles.

You tear your mouth away from Shoyo’s to cry out from the added stimulation that builds on to the pile of pleasure that’s about to explode.

Then, Tooru cuts all those coming from him, lets go of your hips and takes his thumb off your clit.

Even though Shoyo’s doing a great job of making feel good, it only intensifies your need for a release, not provide it.

“Why did you stop?” you mewl with the vehement need for him to make you cum.

“We’ve played this game before, can’t you tell?” he taunts aggravatingly because you remember it too well - how he made a complete mess out of you in public just to make you beg for him. You try to defy him by gyrating on your own, but the firmness of his hands lets you stay in place.

You groan with defeat. “Do you want me to beg again?”

He nods agreeably. “Beg for Shoyo to fuck you instead.”

You're taken aback by his request. You’ve never actually begged Shoyo the way you pleaded for Tooru because Shoyo always makes sure he gives you the pleasure you seek by asking nicely.

“Y/n, you don’t have to,” your friend counters his old rival’s order. Tooru slams a palm on your ass again before pushing his thumb on your clit. “Beg for him or this will go on for a while,” he warns.

You lean your head back on Shoyo’s shoulder as you look at him with lustful urgency. “Shoyo, please fuck me,” you beg with frustration. “Let me get a condom,” Shoyo says, and although you appreciate the thought, you halt him before he can leave the bed.

“I need you now. I need your cock inside me. Make me cum with it. Please …”

You feel his arousal pulsate at your back from your plea. Tooru lets go of his hold on you while Shoyo pulls you away to get you on top of him instead. Shoyo’s girth is thicker than the tourist’s so when he prods your entrance, you hiss at the additional stretch he’s giving you.

“You okay?” Shoyo utters caringly as he sweeps the strands of hair stuck on your face. You give him a frail nod as your pussy tries to accommodate his girth. When he bottoms out, you don’t give yourself time to adjust and hastily chase for the gratification Tooru denied you of.

Shoyo grabs you to lie right on his chest as you bounce rigorously on his cock.

“Shooyooooo, haaaa . I’m gonna--”

A spank lands on one butt cheek - a rough, sharp hit that instigates tears to prickle on the corner of your eyes from the sting, the very same hit that topples you over the edge of ecstasy. When your body begins thrashing on top of him, he continues moving for you, letting you ride the apex of your orgasm to its maximum.

“Y/n, uughhh, you’re clenching on me. Can I keep moving?”

He asks while rocking your hips to keep them moving. You want to tell him to wait for a good while, give you a minute for a break, but you’re too breathless to speak.

Tooru answers for you though. “Yes, Shoyo-kun. Keep moving, just move a bit slower.”

Damn. Will he ever say anything that you actually agree on? You’re just thankful that at least he made Shoyo slow down. He grabs your waist and hoists you up from Shoyo’s chest. “How’s it feel to be spanked by your dear friend, y/n?”

You’re a bit spent from your orgasm, but he’s overbearing that you just had to say something. “You’re a scumbag,” you puff angrily.

“I know,” he smiles sweetly before capturing your mouth while he leads your hand to his stiff member. He covers your hand with his and basically uses it to jack himself off.

“You could’ve had this taken care of earlier,” you whisper. He could’ve just continued fucking you until he got off, but for some reason, he made you do it with Shoyo.

“I have other things in mind.”

You’re about to ask what but Shoyo suddenly hits a spot that makes you grab onto Tooru for support. “Fuuuck,” you moan while looking at Shoyo helplessly. You just came, but his slow plunges are quickly reviving your crude desires.

He lets his hands mendear all over your body, worshipping every nook, every curve he can lay his hands on given how he’s lying beneath you. Tooru lets you go to let you fall back onto Shoyo’s embrace.

Shoyo stops moving you and does the work himself, plunging his thick cock inside you faster - a familiar feeling that always gets you reeling from his intensity.

What isn’t familiar is the prodding of something on an opening that’s never been touched. You harshly snap your gaze to Tooru to check what the hell he’s doing this time. When your eyes make contact with each other, he waves at you while his other hand rests on your ass.

“This will be awesome, I swear,” he assures you with no hint of sincerity. You see him spit on your ass before inserting one finger in your rear.

It’s totally new to you, a strange sensation to be penetrated in that particular entrance. But Shoyo’s thrusts are too good of a distraction that it weirdly adds to the sensation he’s providing.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re feeling good,” Shoyo says with his stare boring on your face.

Goddamn. One who reveres you and one who toys with you, how will this night end for you? Your thoughts get all frenzied up when you feel him add another finger in.

“It feels weird, Tooru! One is enough,” you tell him even with your attention all on Shoyo and the complete adoration he has on his face.

“Okiee,” Tooru says amiably, then inserts a third digit in your tightening hole. “There, one more just like you said,” he announces proudly as he slowly drives three fingers inside your ass.

Your breathing starts to get uneven from the foreign feeling. “Shoyo, I feel weird,” you turn to him.

“Should I ask him to stop?” he asks as he cups your face with sympathy.

“Yeaah aaaaaaaaahhhhhh, ohh shit.” A different kind of pleasure assaults you when Tooru starts pumping his digits unforgivingly.

Shoyo interprets your moan as discomfort as he tells Tooru to stop. “I think she’s in pain, Oikawa-san.”

Tooru acknowledges Shoyo’s statement and stops. “Don’t move too, Shorty.” Shoyo immediately complies but asks, “Why?”

You get the answer when something bigger and thicker than his fingers penetrate your back entrance.

Oikawa winces at the first two inches he sinks in you. You’re so fucking tight that he can surmise it’s your first time to be taken in this hole. Shit, it’s already clamping on him despite not being even halfway in.

He nudges further, managing to shove in almost his whole length but that’s when you get alarmed. “Tooru, no more, please,” you plead with discomfort gleaming clearly on your features.

“Shoyo, move again.” He ignores you, but if you still don’t relax after this, he’ll pull out. Fuck. Shorty better does the trick. He’s been waiting for this. That’s why he’s been holding back and letting you and Shoyo have all the fun.

Fortunately, you do loosen up as Shoyo starts to rock himself inside you again. “I-I’m.. haaa,” you whine with pleasure more than pain.

Hell yeah. It would’ve been a waste if he doesn’t get to experience your ass. He was tempted to play with it that night on the beach, but the location did not permit him to do all the things he wanted to do to you, including this.

But no matter, he has the chance now, even better, Shorty pie is here to help him soothe you.

His hands wander on your chest, groping their softness before they travel down to the sides of your waist, then to your hips. Then, he rams his remaining length inside your tight gummy walls.

He can almost hear your throat scratch from the loud scream that came from it. “What did you do, Oikawa-san?!”

Tooru wipes a sweat from his forehead as he answers. “Relax, I just stuck my cock in her butt that’s all.”

“What?! No wonder she’s feeling weird. Why did you even do that?”

He grins at Shoyo’s lack of experience for these things, and also at you who seem to think that Shoyo knows how to make you feel good. To be fair, Shorty is very well familiar with your body and knows how you want to be held and to be fucked.

But nothing more than that. Shoyo obviously did not push for anything more than what you told and showed him.

Lucky for both of you, he’s there to expand your horizons.

“Yes, Shoyo. You can fuck someone in the ass,” he enlightens the ginger as he starts shoving his cock in and out to tend to his own needs.

“How does it feel, y/n?” he asks you. You turn your head back to him with that hateful yet intoxicated look in your eyes and he already knows that your ass will be for him to wreck tonight.

“I d-don’t like- mmmm -it,” you protest with a frail voice, but Tooru doesn’t bother to stop. Rather, he speeds up.

It’s definitely strange for you, being stuffed by two men whose thrusts are distinct from the other. You’d hear and feel the slap of skin to skin contact when Shoyo buries himself inside you, but when he pulls back it’s followed by Tooru fully sinking himself in your ass.

It’s absurd and absolutely lecherous, yet it feels fucking incredible. They’re stretching both holes while you can do nothing but grasp at Shoyo’s chest as you hear their groans and mewls taint your room.

“Do you really not like it?” Shoyo whispers for only you to hear.

The genuine care in his eyes makes you tell him the truth. “It feels,” you bite your lip when Tooru’s moans become louder as he pounds your ass faster. “G-good, Shoyo. Feels s-so good,” you somehow manage to finish speaking despite your head starting to get clouded from frenzy.

Hinata’s never felt anything like this before either. He can feel Oikawa inside you with that flimsy muscle that separates your two holes. Your little pussy feels more snug against him, swallowing his dick tighter for him to revel on.

But the look on your face tells him that this feels way more intense for you than for him. Your pupils are blown out, your cheeks are flushed, and you’re almost drooling at his chest while you claw on him. It’s so sexy -- the sexiest expression he’s ever seen from you. He can cum just from this, but he can’t help but wonder.

“Oikawa-san. I want to see,” he stops moving altogether when he tells the setter.

You widen your eyes at him. You probably don’t like his idea, but he can only apologize for his curiosity is getting the best of him.

He pulls out from you and watches Oikawa grab you to rest on his chest. Oikawa leans against your headboard and spreads your legs to indulge Hinata the view he requested.

“Here you go, Shorty-pie. I’ll slow down for you,” Oikawa says.

Hinata’s attention is all on your ass being spread out by Oikawa’s dick. It’s so obscene. He never imagined you could be fucked there. If he knew, he would have tried it himself.

“Shoyo, don’t look at me,” you plead.

His eyes shoot up to your embarrassed face, not understanding why. You look fantastic like this: sprawled out for him to see everything. our rear being defiled, your pussy dripping and gaping at nothing, your body glistening with sweat, and that erotic expression you have.

“Uhhhh, ” you shut your eyes when Oikawa starts toying with both your boobs as he continues thrusting at you.

“Don’t be so stingy, y/n. Shoyo wants to see you like this,” then he turns to Hinata. “Isn’t she so slutty, Shoyo-kun?”

“I’m not-”

A slap on your clit stops you from finishing your sentence. Your cunt starts clenching on its own from the sting. “Fuck, y/n. Even your ass is throbbing from that. You really like being hurt, don’t you?”

He says all that while his middle finger rubs circles on your hard nub. God, your mind is in ruin from this slow, venereal torture Tooru is subjecting you to.

“I d-don’t,” you pant heavily from the heavy ache in the pit of your stomach.

Another slap hits your cunt, ripping a shrill whine from you, followed by a slew of whimpers when his fingers fondle with your clit again. “What’s that again?” Oikawa hums on your neck.

“I’m a slut! I’m a slutty girl, so please. Please don’t stop again,” you admit defeatedly, overwhelmed by the intense craving to be fucked properly.

“See, Shoyo-kun? Your good friend over here is a pervert who has a talent for begging.”

You look at Shoyo, ready for the scandalized and disgusted look on his face. But what you see is mesmerized hunger with his eyes on your body.

“I want to fuck her ass too, Oikawa-san.”

Tooru takes out his dick as Shoyo requested. “Go ahead, Shorty.”

Shoyo grips your knees and pushes them back a little before he probes your entrance. Oikawa tilts your face to his and engages you with a messy kiss where he darts his tongue inside your mouth right off the bat.

Then he puts his hands back to work, one on your tit and the other on your pussy, distracting you from the pain of Shoyo’s size penetrating your other entrance.

“It’s so big,” you whimper on Tooru’s mouth, which makes him stop all his ministrations and retreat a bit. “Geez, y/n. Are you trying to insult me?”

“N-no, it’s just uughhh.” You feel the whole of Shoyo’s length inside your rear end.

“Does it feel good, y/n?” he asks even though he’s already moving in and out of you with less sympathy than he used to have as he doesn’t let you adjust to him. And when you’re finally used to his girth, he pulls out completely and hammers it inside your sopping pussy.

He thrusts a few times then gets back to your ass again. He does this several times, the pleasure barely setting in on one hole, then proceeds to fucking the other before it feels too good for you.

“Shit, Shoyo. That’s fucking hot. Our y/n here loves it. Look at her.” Just as he’s ogling at you, you watch him as well. He’s completely lost in it, his eyes trained on where your bodies are connected, not aware that he’s driving you mad with the way he’s abusing two holes interchangeably.

“Shoyo…”

“What?” His voice is gruff as his alternating thrusts are getting faster, making you squirm on Oikawa’s chest for you can’t decide what you want to tell him. You don’t know if you want Shoyo to fuck your cunt or your rear.

You’d hate to admit it, especially with Tooru holding you captive in his hold, but you want both caverns stuffed to the brim.

“Can you choose one? I want to fuck her too, Shorty,” Tooru’s voice is laced with need which wasn’t there earlier. Finally, you agree with him on something. It pops off Shoyo’s enthralled selfish state of gratifying his pleasure alone.

“My bad,” Shoyo mutters before slotting his cock deep inside your pussy, choosing it for him to ravage on, which leaves your behind for Tooru.

When you get what you’ve been craving for, it’s mind-shattering. You’ve been edged non-stop that the feeling of being pummeled by Tooru’s and Shoyo’s cock shatters any slew of dignity and shame you had. Your head is filled with nothing but their dicks battering your insides with an uncoordinated, wild rhythm.

“Yesssss ahhh. ”

Tooru’s chest vibrates from his low laughter as he asks, “Does my cock feel good in this hole of yours?”

Shoyo spreads your cheeks apart, increasing the effect of Tooru’s words as he glides in easier and faster from Shoyo’s action.

“Yes! Please, keep fucking my ass, Tooru. Oh god, fuck. Shoyo, you’re hitting so deep, I - haaaa. ” Oikawa starts sucking a sensitive spot on your shoulder while Shoyo leans down inches from your mouth.

“Can you stick your tongue out, y/n?”

You don’t ask anymore, you just do it. You poke your tongue out as Shoyo requested. He does the same to play with yours, his moist, warm muscle clashing and colliding over yours.

Shoyo is different from usual and so are you. You feel so perverted, but you’re relishing every second, every thrust by both dicks.

“‘ m genna cuuhhmmm,” you slur.

Shoyo retrieves his tongue, leaving yours hanging out of your mouth. “I can’t believe you’re this slutty, y/n.”

You lose it. Shoyo’s crude words make you convulse on top of Tooru as your orgasm comes crashing down on you. You didn’t expect such treatment from Shoyo. You also didn’t expect you’d cum because of it.

You try to arch your back but Tooru is quick to grab one wrist while his arm snakes around your waist to prevent you from doing so. You’re left with no choice but to stay a whimpering, writhing mess in between two men who continue to slide in and out of you while you reel from your second climax.

With your one free hand, you wearily reach for Shoyo’s wrist. “Let me rest.” Your body is beginning to feel overwhelmed from the consuming pleasure they’re assaulting you with.

“Ehhh? That’s boring. Wanna try something fun, Shoyo?” You don’t miss the naughty suggestive tone of Tooru, but you’re too out of it to react.

Shoyo disregards your frail request and nods eagerly at the man behind you. With Shoyo’s approval, Tooru slips his cock out of your ass and pushes it into your pussy that’s already occupied by Shoyo.

“GAAAAAAAAAHH!!” You struggle again to break free from Tooru’s embrace but combined with your fatigue and his strength, it turns out futile. The stretch is atrocious. It’s like you’re being split open to no end.

“Too tight,” Shoyo bites his lip with distress.

“Spit on her cunt,” Tooru quickly provides a solution which Shoyo does without thinking twice, gathering drool in his mouth then barbarically spitting on your pussy.

“I can’t do this. I’m going to break,” you voice out to no one, hoping that one of them takes mercy on you.

Tooru growls right on your ear. “Now won’t that be interesting?”

Then he rams his dick inside you, successfully joining Shoyo’s.

Another scream rips out of you as the two of them try to fit inside your already wrecked cunt. It hurts. You feel the burn of being outstretched together with discomfort of overstimulation. Even then, the moans that come out from you are of carnal thrill and elation.

It hurts, but in the best ways possible.

Your toes are curling from the lack of grip on reality while your hands tremble as they sought for anything to hold on to. One is shaking as it grips on Tooru’s forearm while the other is quivering at nothing in mid air.

Finally, Shoyo takes notice of you. You don’t care how you look right now, but you’re just glad that he’s looking your way again.

He hooks your calves to his shoulders, freeing both of his hands to hold yours. He intertwines them with his, allowing you to ground yourself on him that way.

Tooru’s thrusts become erratic as hands find purchase on your tits to paw. “Fuck, I can’t take it anymore. I’m gonna-uughhhh -cum.”

Your response is one driven by vulgar desires. “Cum inside me, Tooru. Pleasee,” you tell him as you look him in the eyes.

“Fuck yes! ”

The slap of his skin against yours gets louder and faster while his high-pitched whines fill your ear. “Yeaaah, cumming, Ms. Local. Shiiiit.” He stills completely while you feel spurts of warm liquid fill you up.

His hot breath fans your neck as he comes down from his climax, but he doesn’t budge and remains inside you. You wiggle above him, trying to get his cock to slip out, but he only fastens his grasp on your waist.

“Trust me, y/n. I’m doing this for you. Without my cock, this cunt of yours will loosen up. You and Shoyo-kun will take even longer to cum with how stretched and wet you already are.”

Shoyo, on the other hand, pummels inside you even faster from the lubrication Tooru gave. “You feel so amazing, y/n. Hmmmmppp. So tight, so sexy, so haaaa.” His fingers are almost crushing your hand, but you only feel the pleasure of being drilled with his dick.

Tooru’s hand flies to your sex and frantically plays with your clit again. But this time, the effect is even more immense as he consistently rubs it with his calloused pads in rapid up and down strokes. His other fingers add another stimulation for you, tweaking one perk nipple - pinching and pulling at his leisure.

Your whole body is on fire. You feel so dirty with sweat, drool, and cum all mixed and squelching from your slit. You feel it - the impending orgasm that feels different from the rest. Your head’s all fuzzy while your vision is getting blurry for some reason.

When a hiccup escapes your mouth, you figure out why - you’re sobbing. Tears are welling in your eyes from the overstimulation. “Too muuuuchhh, is tooo muaaa-aaaahhh.”

“Almost there, y/n. Just a bit more,” Shoyo says with eyes closed and clenched jaw as he continues roughing up your already sore pussy.

Shoyo starts thrusting a bit upwards, hitting a spot that’s doing something inexplicable to your senses. “Something — oh god, something’s uuuhhh, noooo.”

You hear a deafening wail from you as clear liquid gushes out from your sex while you thrash uncontrollably. “Holy shit, she squirted.” Tooru’s voice seems distant with how you’re still teetering from the violent orgasm that exploded from you.

“What was th- shit! I’m cumming. I’ll cum inside you too, y/n. You’ll let me, riiight?”

His hips rut viciously onto yours, prolonging the intensity of your own release. His mewls get louder and louder paired with your cries until he delivers one sharp thrust that unloads his seed inside you.

You feel so full with two dicks still inside you with both their cum dripping down your pussy. Tooru is the first to pull out while Shoyo is puffing with his hands still tightly clutched onto yours.

A massive weight looms on your chest, extending all over your body now that the euphoric yet salacious fog in your head is slowly being stripped off. Your vision is clearing out, the light bulb on your ceiling suddenly seeming too bright for you. The tenderness of certain body parts are getting noticeable. The sweat and saliva on your skin suddenly feels too sticky, too filthy, too disgusting.

You’re not even aware you’re trembling once again.

Oikawa, being the one holding, immediately takes notice. “Y/n?”

Your response to him is a whimper. “Shit. Let go of her. Now,” he says with urgency.

Shoyo opens his eyes and is alarmed when he sees you in a rattled distress. He softly draws you away from Oikawa and cradles you himself.

Oikawa stands up and goes to your drawers. Hinata doesn’t know why but doesn’t mind and turns his attention to you instead.

“Y/n?” He caresses your shoulder down to your arms, trying to ease whatever it is that’s bothering you. You hang onto his bicep but it slides down from the dampness of his skin. His concern grows when you let out a soft sob.

He holds your hand delicately, brushing his thumb against it. He tries to get you to look at him but you persistently shun your face away. “Please look at me. I’m so sorry. Was I too rough?”

You swing your head side to side, refuting his assumption. “I feel nasty and gross,” you sniffle. “But you’re not. You were so beautiful and sexy and amazing,” he says truthfully as he remembers how ravishing you were laid out for him.

You finally look at him, the most vulnerable he’s ever seen you.

“Really?”

He nods earnestly before planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

Oikawa comes back to bed with fresh towels at hand. He wipes the clammy fluids on your body, patting the warm cloth on your arms, thighs, and torso which alleviates further your malaise. Then, he wraps a new one around you and lifts you up to a sitting position.

“You’re far from being disgusting, y/n,” Oikawa whispers on the back of your head. He carefully lays his hand on your shoulder, testing if his touch triggers any unpleasant reaction from you. He skims it towards your neck and cups it. With no resistance put up, he places a chaste kiss on your nape.

“You were incredible,” he hums on your skin. “Let’s take a shower? Get you cleaned up, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you murmur weakly. Oikawa looks at Hinata and signals him to carry you since you’re more comfortable with him.

You sigh once the warm trickles of liquid hit your skin. It’s calming, soothing the distraught uproar in your thoughts and nerves.

A hand rakes up the wet strands of your hair and lathers your soap on your back. On your front, a familiar set of lips kisses you while water streams down on both of you. It feels like a hazy, tranquil dream. You just hear the cascading of water, echo of footsteps in the wet tiles, and a couple of sighs.

Next thing you now, you’re snuggled up in bed with someone drying your hair. You open your heavy lids and catch sight of a topless Tooru seated next to you as he tucks you with a blanket that smells like your drawers.

The bed is no longer drenched and everything feels crisp and fresh, lulling you deeper to rest.

“Stay with her until the morning, Shoyo.” It’s Tooru’s voice.

“You’re leaving?” Shoyo questions him as he stops patting the towel on your hair..

“Nah. She doesn’t like me. She’ll probably scream or hit my face first thing in the morning.” He’s about to get up when you muster whatever energy’s left of you to grab his wrist.

He regards you with care as he takes hold of the hand you’re tugging him with. “Yes?”

“Stay.”

He smiles with affection, a novel sight he’s shown you only now. He joins you in bed, filling the empty space on your left side. You close your eyes again, relishing the soft caresses and gentle pecks on your body as you peacefully drift off to sleep.

You wake up with the warmth of another body radiating onto yours. A heavy arm is draped across your waist and your cheek is nestled to a chest that rises and falls in a calming tempo that makes you want to drift back to your slumber.

But curiosity gets you. You slowly open your lids and are met with rays of sunlight glazing the orange strands of hair of the man next to you.

‘Sunshine on sunshine,’ you thought.

It’s a stirring sight to behold, but you have to wonder. He’s never stayed until morning. What happened last night that made him do so?

You scuff around, getting ready to sit up when you feel a heavy ache from your abdomen all the way down to your legs.

Wha- oh.

Oh.

That happened.

After your mind refreshes itself and replays some key scenes from last night, you glance back at Shoyo with no ounce of regret from what happened. You give him a soft peck on his chest and carefully shuffle out of the bed, making sure you don’t wake him up.

Up on your feet, you walk to your dining room and find what you’re looking for - the other accomplice of last night’s feat.

He’s seated comfortably at your table with a hot cup of coffee. “Buenos dias, señora,” he greets in his own dazzling way.

“I thought you were leaving,” you state with no trace of hostility as you trudge to the kitchen from how tender your lower body is.

“I clearly heard you asked me to stay,” he ripostes.

You get your own cup of coffee and join him in the dining area. “I did, didn’t I?” you ask with a soft whimsical grin ghosting across your lips.

“Mmhmm,” he sips from his mug leisurely then asks, “Any regretS?”

You meet his mellow eyes with your own. “Weirdly, none.”

The smiles that spread on your faces mirror each other, humored and satiated. Last night was definitely an experience - a mind-blowing one, and you’re extremely thankful that the aftermath of it was extremely catered for you as well.

The remaining contents of his coffee were spent in comfortable silence. “I think this is when I say thanks for the sex and coffee, then leave.”

Your reaction should be of animosity. This is the part you detested, when you’re treated like a part of the Rio de Janeiro local tour. But for some reason, you found the current situation funny.

“I believe it is indeed that moment,” you agree congenially.

“See you when I see you, Ms. Local,” he gives you a wink and gets up. The smile you had doesn’t go away as you bring your cup to your lips.

You hear your door open and a sudden need to tell him a parting message bursts on your chest.

“Hey, Tourist,” you break the stillness of your apartment as you call him out and turn around on your seat to face him.

“Hmm?” He regards you quaintly with his hand still on the doorknob.

It is long overdue and inappropriate in various sorts of ways, but you say it anyways.

“Welcome to Brazil.”

masterlist of other stuff I wrote

Taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai @babythotshq @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @crescenttooru @yashuaaa @liberhoe @richkookie @hqbeesun @megatron-1199 @kawaiiisis

#oikawa smut #hinata smut #haikyuu smut #oiikawa x reader #hinata x reader

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