#but in the song ruin they were BOTH soft and i literally can only describe it as their voices caressing each other like

[formidxble]

summary: your thighs have secrets you never planned to resurface. your boyfriend, felix, has other plans.

pairing: lee felix x female reader

word count: 5.4k

genre: smut, fluff, and angst

smut warnings: first time sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), really just vanilla sex, soft and gentle

trigger warnings: self harm, mentions of scars, self-loathing

tagged: @moonlit-lixie​ @lilixeu​ @meow-minho

songs you can listen to when reading this:

animal by troye sivan

save by faime

please read this before you continue on with the story !!!!

hello, this fic is based on a request i received and i would like to give you guys a fair warning before you read this. this story has mentions of self harm, though i tried not to give it as much detail as to not upset anyone. i tried my best to focus this story on how important your partner may be when it comes to self-acceptance and healing. if you feel the urge to hurt yourself, please remember that someone cares for you and someone is there for you, always.

my dms and asks are open for anyone who needs someone to talk to.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷masterlist 

please don’t interact with this post if you are under the age of 18!

—UNEDITED—

felix’s lips brush against your swollen ones as he leans his forehead against yours. his eyes were twinkling with love and admiration and you couldn’t help, but giggle. “what?” you ask.

“you’re beautiful,” he breathes, pecking your lips before moving to your neck. you wrap your arms around his neck as he peppers kisses on your skin. you wonder if you were ready to bare everything to him, let him see all that you are, scars and all. the thought makes you close your eyes as you grip his back and feel your body start to heat up.

this was all that it was between the two of you. soft kisses turn into heated make out sessions, hands roaming all over each other’s bodies, but, it never turned into something more. felix told you that he was willing to wait and you believed him. he never once tried to slip his hands in your pants or touch you in ways you weren’t ready for. instead, he slips his tongue in your mouth to clash with yours and it’s as sweet as they described sex to be.

“lix,” you mumble. you didn’t need to repeat his name as he comes up to meet your eyes immediately. there was worry in his eyes, but the dashes of love still remained. he raises an eyebrow.

“yes?”

“i, um, i—“ you stumble over your words and he pulls away slightly to get a better look at you.

“did i go too far?” felix frowns to himself, getting off of you to give you space. that was what you loved about him. he was always quick to get off of you if things get too heated or when he hears you call out his name from above him. he always respected your boundaries.

“no, no, i just—“ you sigh, sitting up on the couch, “i just feel like i’m ready.”

felix’s eyes widen and a soft blush rises up to his cheeks. you giggle as your cheeks mimic his. you couldn’t believe the words that came out of your mouth, but it felt right. if you were to lose your virginity to someone, it would be to him, to felix. you couldn’t see anyone else and you trusted no one else.

so, here you were, nervous, to say the least. tonight was the night and you didn’t know if you were actually ready to let him see everything, but then again, he was felix, your boyfriend, the man you see yourself marrying in the future. he wasn’t perfect, but he made sure you felt that way. there are many things in your life that’s unsure, but one thing is constant: felix loves you and he makes sure you feel that way everyday even though you weren’t together physically.

a knock on your apartment door breaks your line of thought. your heart pounds in your chest as you make your way to it. reaching out to the door knob, your hand starts to shake and thoughts of self-loathing popped up in your head.

what if he doesn’t like the way you look, the way you sound in bed? and if he sees the scars on your thighs, would he say anything? ignore it? be turned off? would it ruin the mood? woul—

another knock gets you out of your trance. even though you had those thoughts swimming in your head, you knew you had to let felix in, literally and figuratively. you shake your head to yourself as you turn the door knob.

your sight is filled with your soulmate. he’s wearing a black shirt with stripes of yellow adorning its sleeves. his sweatpants are light colored and he looks great as always. your heart melts as he smiles when your eyes meet for the first time that night.

“do you usually check out the people on your doorstep?” felix jokes as you move aside to let him in. you blush, closing the door. damn him, already starting the night with teasing. you can’t help but wonder if he’ll be the same way in bed.

“only the attractive ones,” you respond, giggling. felix turns around to face you, head tilted as an amused smile takes over his lips. your eyes move to gaze at his lips for a brief moment before letting your eyes lock on his again. maybe it was the lust you’re starting to feel, but felix looks different tonight.

“so, i’m attractive to you?” he continues to tease. you feel his eyes trail down your back when you start walking in the direction of your bedroom. you’re glad that your back is turned to him because he can’t see you blush now. if he wanted to tease, then two can play at that game.

“you wouldn’t be walking to my room if you weren’t,” you answer, stopping in front of your bedroom door. before you could open the door, you feel felix’s hands on your waist and he turns you around. your eyes travel to his neck and you can’t help but think of how good hickeys would look on his neck at this moment. you see him lick his bottom lip, keeping his hands on your waist.

you and felix stare at each other for what seems like forever, the air becoming more and more charged as time passed by. he finally closes the space between the both of you by leaning in and pressing his lips on yours. your arms wrap around his neck as you pull him in deeper. he chuckles lowly on your lips, removing one hand from your waist to put on the door behind you. your skin yearns for both of his warm hands, but his lips were warm enough to keep you company for the time being. your lips continue to move in sync as his other hand reaches for the door knob and he twists it. both of you stumble into room without removing your lips from each other’s. felix pulls away briefly to close the door behind him and you whine softly.

“i’m right here, princess,” felix chuckles before pressing his lips on yours again. you couldn’t stand in the middle of the room forever, so you start walking back to your bed, lips not leaving his. your hands cup his cheeks and you feel the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. felix puts a hand on your lower back for support as you lay your back down on the bed. he pulls away to remove his shirt and your eyes travel down his torso, taking him in.

felix definitely looked different tonight. when did his body get so toned and why have you never noticed? you feel your lips drying up, not only at the sight of his body, but at the thought of what tonight has to offer. he smiles softly as he gently opens your legs so that he could settle in. you moan softly when your lips collide once again. in response, felix hooks his thumb in the waistband of your shorts.

your eyes fly open as reality begins to set in your veins. you were about to get naked in front of someone else, bare everything and let him see the scars you struggled for so long to accept and even look at. you slightly push him away and a flash of worry shows up on his face. “um—“ you start.

felix gets off of you slowly, opting to sit beside you on the bed. “we don’t have to if you don’t want to, y/n,” he mumbles as he moves closer to hold onto your shoulder in an effort to comfort you. you shake your head gently.

“it’s not that,” you whisper, looking back up at him, “i just, i haven’t been completely honest with you—“

“i’m not your first?” felix cuts you off before shaking his head quickly, “it’s fine, i get it. it doesn’t change how i—“

“no!” you exclaim, surprising the both of you. “no, it’s not that,” you repeat softly as you grab his hand on your shoulder and you intertwine his fingers with yours. you take a deep breath before opening your mouth to speak again. “i, um, i used to cut myself,” you let out a soft groan as you hang your head down. it was much harder to admit out loud, you’ve come to realize, and the next thing you know there are tears falling down your eyes. felix immediately wraps his arms around you to pull you into his bare chest. you feel him rubbing circles on your back as your chest continued to heave. what a mood kill, you think to yourself.

after a while, you pull away and he cups your cheeks, forcing you to face and look at him. he uses his thumbs to brush away the tears that were still in the edges of your eyes and you fight the urge to cry again. he looks at you fondly before moving in and pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “i’m proud of you,” he breathes against your skin, “for having the courage to tell me.” you close your eyes at his words, letting them wrap their arms around your body. this wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, but it was already better than anything you ever imagined.

“you’re brave. you don’t have to hide from me, princess,” felix mumbles, pecking your forehead once more. you shudder at the gentleness of his actions, but this was felix. you didn’t know what else you expected from your loving boyfriend.

“i love you all the same.”

you smile at his words, sniffling and open your eyes, his brown ones staring right back at you. you find yourself falling even deeper for him and you can’t complain. “hey,” he greets playfully.

“hey,” you whisper back, moving in to kiss his lips for the nth time tonight. you still couldn’t get enough of him, even after all this time and you couldn’t believe that this man, out of all of them, fell right into your lap.

felix gently urges you to lie back down on the bed by leaning into you as your lips both continued to move. it was soft and sweet, like everything in your relationship. he has always been careful and gentle with you and you can’t help but wonder if that’ll change after this night together with him. the thought makes you giddy, giggling on his lips as you feel your back hit the mattress again.

“wait,” felix says as he pulls away, “you still want this right?” you nod at his words, reaching out to caress his cheek. “i need you to say it, sweetheart.”

“yes, felix, i still want this,” you whisper shakily, opening your legs again to invite him back in. he settles in between them again and you smile as you feel him hardening in his sweatpants.

“100%. i’m all yours tonight.”

felix’s pupils dilate as he hears you and he latches his lips on your neck. whatever nervousness you had before this is now gone and has been replaced with thoughts of felix and how good he was at pleasuring you without even doing anything yet. you feel him chuckle when you absentmindedly buck your hips up into his. you blush.

“patience, my love. we have all night,” felix mumbles against your skin. his lips travel down from your neck to your chest. your eyes flutter close, breathing becoming heavier as you realize fully what you got yourself into and how much you want it. he tugs on your shirt and you nod. he carefully pulls it over your head, putting the shirt down somewhere on the bed. felix looks back down at you and you watch as his eyes trail down to your chest. you’ve never felt so exposed in your life, but somehow, it feels right.

“beautiful.”

before you could respond, felix’s lips are on your chest, cupping one breast in his hand, while the other is on your hip. you sigh his name out and you feel him smile against your skin. your skin was burning, yet you yearned for more. you find yourself bucking your hips up again, but this time, felix uses his other hand to keep your hips grounded.

you whimper in response. his hand on your breast moves to your back, unclasping your bra. you gasp as you feel the cold air hit your nipples and you giggle nervously. “you do that well,” you tease. felix’s eyes gaze up to you, slightly hooded.

“i practice,” he jokes, winking at you briefly, and you let out a soft snort. practice, the word rings in your mind as you feel his lips around your nipple. you moan when he wraps his lips around your nipple, his tongue gently swirling it around. you close your eyes and you feel his eyes on you.

“do you feel good?” felix asks, voice pitched lower than usual, as he removes his mouth on your nipple. if you were strong enough right now, you would smack the back of his head. you open your eyes to playfully glare at him. he removes the hand on your hip to raise it up in mock surrender. he laughs, eyes crinkling at the sides. “alright, i’ll keep doing it.”

“thank you,” you breathe out dramatically, putting your head down on the pillow behind you. your back slightly arches when he moves his lips to your other nipple, giving it the same attention as your other one. goosebumps rise on your skin when he gently pushes your breasts together to give them soft kisses. you sigh his name and he smiles.

“you’re always so beautiful, y/n,” felix praises, moving down further on your body. your core pulses ever so slightly and you realize how much you wanted this even if self-doubt start to fill your head again. you gather the courage to look down at him while he presses soft kisses on your stomach, teasingly staying there. felix gazes up again, eyes meeting yours. you bite your lip and he chuckles.

“you’re nervous,” he mumbles.

“of course i am,” you answer. felix shakes his head as he hooks his thumb in the waistband of your shorts again and your breath hitches when he slowly pulls them down. “you seem to know what you’re doing, love,” you shakily state.

“i practice,” felix repeats, giggling softly as he leans back up to remove your shorts fully. he softly groans at the sight of you and you try to cover yourself up.

“no, sweetheart,” felix whines, leaning back down to stop you from covering yourself, “you’re perfect.” you hum at his words, goosebumps returning to your skin as he moves down to stay in between your thighs. there, you realize he sees your scars, his long fingers tracing them.

“these look like battle scars,” he jokes. you were about to respond, but he cuts you off with soft kisses to the scars you hid for so long. “don’t be ashamed of them,” felix murmurs and you sigh. something erupts in your chest and you find yourself crying again. why did you ever feel that the scars were something to be ashamed off? why did you ever think that felix will look at you differently? he’s proven time and time again that he’s in love with you and nothing will change that. you put your arm over you eyes as the tears continue to flow. felix continues to kiss them, moving closer to your core with every kiss.

“these just tell me how strong you are,” felix continues and you let out a small moan in response. “just,” he pauses to raise his head up to look at you. you remove your arm on your eyes as you lock eyes with him. “promise me you won’t do this to yourself again.”

you bite your lip, sniffling softly as you nod. “i promise.”

felix grins, leaning back down to press a soft kiss on your clit as a form of reward. you gasp, head falling back to the pillow as your hand reaches out to grip his hair. “my strong princess,” felix mutters against your clit. the vibrations from his voice travel all over your body and you shudder, hand gripping his hair tighter. he kisses your scars one last time before focusing on your clothed clit again.

“god, you smell so sweet, my princess. i wonder how you taste.”

your mouth falls open when he moves your panties to the side, pressing another soft kiss on your clit. felix groans and the vibrations from it make your legs open wider. you never knew how good his lips felt on your nub until you actually felt it moving against you. sure, you’ve imagined it before, but nothing could have prepared you for how well he did it and how it took you to heaven and back.

“you’ve been hiding this from me?” felix teases, voice now in its lowest. you try to giggle as a blush forms on your cheeks, but only a moan leaves you as he continues to move his lips on your clit, sucking on it lightly when he gets the chance to. you feel his fingers making its way to where you wanted him most. your grip on his hair loosens as your hand starts to shake. this shouldn’t feel this good. he wasn’t even doing anything that intense, yet you already feel a knot in your stomach forming. you don’t know if you’re supposed to be mad about how good felix was already making you feel with his lips.

you breathe his name out when he removes his lips from your clit. felix wets his finger by sucking on it before looking back up at you.

“you ready?”

“ready as i’ll ever be,” you whisper. felix nods, inserting a finger into you. both of you groan, your free hand gripping the sheets beside you. it burned, but felix stops halfway through to let you adjust to his finger. you couldn’t believe this was happening, but here you were, legs spread open with lee felix in between them, and his finger halfway inside you.

“move,” you gasp and felix obliges. he thrusts his finger in slowly, making sure you’re fully adjusted before increasing his speed. you feel yourself get wetter when he attaches his lips on your clit again. he catches you off guard when he licks a long stripe up to your clit. your back arches, eyes closing as his finger continues to move inside you. when your back settles on the bed again, you open one eye lazily to look down at him.

the sight takes your breath away. felix’s eyes were closed as well, his actions interchanging between sucking your clit with his lips and lapping your folds with his tongue. he was beautiful like this and you find yourself calling out to him. felix opens his eyes, tilting his head as he pulls away from your cunt, finger slightly slowing down.

“another, please,” you beg softly. felix blinks at your request as if not fully comprehending it at first. he pulls his finger out and you find your walls clenching at nothing. he sucks two fingers before plunging them in you slowly. you moan his name and he chuckles against your clit.

“you’re doing well, sweetheart,” he praises, his mouth resuming its actions on your clit. you find yourself wanting more, his two fingers not filling you up as much as you wanted. a blush forms on your cheeks again as you realize what that meant. you wanted his cock, knowing that you were ready for it. the thought makes you wetter as his fingers continue to move inside you. he curves his fingers and you whimper.

“you’re getting tighter,” felix mumbles. “you want to cum on my fingers, princess?”

you moan out a yes, tears threatening to spill from your eyes again as you start to get overwhelmed. this was going to be your first orgasm of the night and you know it won’t be the last. you cry out his name and a jumble of other words when you spill all over his fingers. your legs start to shake from the intensity of your first orgasm, with felix’s free hand on your lower stomach keeping you grounded. if this was how it felt every time, fuck, you were willing to do this with felix everyday. if he wanted to, that is.

felix thrusts his fingers slowly before pulling them out fully. you whine at the lack of contact, but he makes up for it when he presses his warm lips on the scars on your thighs again. “so beautiful, my princess,” felix hums as he pecks your clit one last time before coming back up to kiss your lips.

you moan into the kiss as you taste yourself on felix’s lips. you shakily reach down to tug on his sweatpants. he pulls away to gaze at your hand that’s trying to remove his sweatpants and he laughs softly. “they’ll come off in a second, princess.”

“i wanna suck you off,” you whine. felix raises an eyebrow before shaking his head.

“tonight’s all about you, baby. i can wait.”

“but—“

“no buts. let me take care of you tonight, okay?” you let out a sigh at his words before nodding. maybe after this he’ll let you, but for now, you were willing to let him do whatever he wanted to you. that’s how much you trusted your lover. you knew he would deliver and if he wanted to take care of you, you wouldn’t deny him of the opportunity.

felix reaches into his pocket to grab the box of condoms he brought as you sit up to slip your panties off. you look up at him and you laugh.

“do you bring condoms that way all the time?” you tease, giggling when he raises an eyebrow in confusion. “you should have brought only one.” felix shakes his head as he opens the box up to grab a condom packet.

“who said we needed only one for tonight?”

your eyes widen at his response and it was his turn to laugh. you reach up to smack his shoulder and he only laughs harder. “you’re such an asshole,” you huff playfully, leaning back down on the bed as he starts to pull down his sweatpants.

“you love me though,” felix hums nonchalantly. there he was, lee felix, wearing only his boxers as he kneeled in between your legs. the gap between the two of you was so little that you could feel the warmth of his member radiating on yours. your imagination ran wild, but nothing compared to when he pulled down his boxers. you gasp. you’ve felt him through his pants before, but you never thought he’d be this big. the head of his cock was red, precum staining it as it twitches with need. you swallow and for a second, worry coats his face and his shoulders tense up. “are you okay?”

you nod in response, feeling yourself getting wet again. “i just don’t know if you’ll fit, lix.” felix lets out a breath through his nose, shoulders relaxing. you cover your face with your hands as you blush profusely. you hear him opening the condom packet and you spread your fingers apart to get a look at him putting the condom on.

“trust me,” he reaches out to grab your wrists, gently pulling your hands away from your face. you shudder at the sight of him when you look down. he lets go of your wrists, a finger positioning itself under your chin to lift it up so your eyes meet. “you’ll be okay.”

“if it hurts, just tell me,” felix leans down to peck your lips and you whimper when he pulls away. he scrunches his eyebrows, amused, before lining himself up at your entrance. you hiss softly when he pushes the head in gently. this burn was different from the burn you felt when he used his fingers on you. this burn stung and he stops when the head enters you fully. you grip his shoulder as you bite your lip.

felix doesn’t tear his eyes away from you as he continues to push in as little as he could. as much as he wanted to feel good, his main priority was you and you couldn’t thank him enough. you throw your head back as he bottoms out, your walls opening up to accommodate felix’s cock inside you. he leans down to connect your lips together, the soft warmth of his lips serving as a direct contrast from the burn inside you. once he pulls away, he hangs his head down, your name falling from his lips as he feels your walls pulsing and adjusting to his length.

“are you okay?” felix asks. you nod as you feel the burn subsiding after a while. you tap his shoulder as a way to tell him to move, your words already failing you. felix uses his hands to support his weight as he puts them beside your head. he starts to move and it feels even better than you could have ever imagined. you grip his shoulder again as you feel yourself getting wetter by the minute.

“felix,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck as he continues to thrust inside. he opens his eyes to look into yours. his eyes are dilated and you could tell he was holding back. nevertheless, his eyes held love in them and you knew that if ever you wanted to stop, he would gladly do so, no matter how good he feels. felix grips the headboard in front of him as he braces himself to go faster in you. he looks down to ask for your approval and you nod. the movement of his hips slow as he readies himself.

“let me make you feel good.”

you nod at his words, mouth going dry at the thought of what he might be planning.

felix already felt good at this pace, what more if he goes faster? you remove your arms from his neck, hands trailing down to his toned chest. he surprises you with a rough thrust and you gasp, his name rolling off your tongue. he thrusts again, his cock curving in you in a way that hits your spot perfectly. you let out a broken moan. you never believed in the concept of heaven, but being under felix might change your mind. the way he took care of you, the way he made you feel immaculate, makes you wonder if this was heaven itself.

felix picks up his pace, your head falling back to the pillow. you put your hands on his waist and you feel the goosebumps rise on his body once your hands make contact. he opens his eyes as he gives you a small smirk. you giggle breathlessly, a blush forming on your cheeks. even though he was on top of you, making you think and feel sinful things, he was still the man you fell in love with, a tease and way too cheeky for his own good. you fall into incoherent moans once again as he increases the speed of his hips, the sound of your skin meeting his echoing in the room.

“god baby,” felix groans, his pace slightly faltering, “you feel so good around me.” you let out a soft whine at his words, leaning to give him a rough kiss. he sloppily returns the kiss and when you pull away, his eyebrows scrunch as he focuses on the task at hand.

you’re moaning and crying out his name as your back arches from the bed. you feel the knot on your stomach forming again and you know you’re about to spill all over him for the second time tonight. you clench around felix and he moans brokenly.

“fuck,” he breathes out, “are you close?”

you nod, words not being enough to describe what you were feeling as of the moment. his name becomes a mantra to you as he continues to pound into your cunt. you reach up to grip at his hair, your name and a babble of his nicknames for you falling out of his mouth as he tries to get you where you needed to be.

“can you cum for me, princess?” he asks, slightly out of breath as you notice a bead of sweat falling down the side of his face.

“cum for me. please cum for me.”

felix pleads softly and before you know it, you’re screaming out his name as you feel your juices flow down his cock. felix grunts when you repeat his name over and over again, like you’ll end up forgetting it. if there was a heaven on earth, this was it. felix was sure of it and you felt the same way.

“you’re such a good girl for me, baby, fuck, you’re so good—“ felix rambles as he tries to reach his own high. “you’re so fucking good, fuck, fuck, fuck—“

lee felix ruined you tonight, but here he was, putting you back together again as he finishes inside you with a loud groan of your name. he leans back down into you to bury his face on your neck. both of your chests heave as you both try to catch your breath. you put a hand on his hair to stroke it and to remind him that you were still here with him. he presses a soft kiss on your neck before getting off of you to pull out.

you look at him and you realize that you want this forever, even though you felt as if you didn’t deserve it. if felix was willing to spend forever with you, you were in no position to say no because you wanted the same thing. he comes back to the bed to lay down next to you, both of your bodies sweaty from the events that just transpired. felix sheepishly grabs you and pulls you into him.

“did you feel good? was that good?” felix questions quietly. you sit up on your elbow to look at him, tilting your head with your eyebrows scrunched together. how could he ask that when he was the man that gave you everything in one night? how could he ask that when he made you cum twice during your first time?

“of course, it was good, lix,” you mumble, leaning over to press a kiss on the tip of his nose. “it was better than good, 100 times better than good. you were amazing,” you pepper kisses all over his face and he giggles, still keeping his arms around you. “how about you,” you whisper on his skin, “did you feel good?”

“yes,” he answers without hesitation, “of course, why wouldn’t i feel good?” you playfully shrug, lying back down on his shoulder. the two of you lay in silence as you both come down from your highs, the sound of your breathing filling the room. you look up and notice that he had his eyes closed. you tap his chest and his eyes open.

you remove yourself from his arms, leaning over to the bedside table to grab the box of condoms he brought with him. you playfully twist it around your hands before pretending to read what was written on it. you glance at him and you see that he’s watching you with confusion written all over his face.

“you want to make use of every single one in here?” you question and he lets out a surprised chuckle. “i mean, we might—“

before you could finish, he’s already pining you down on the bed. “we might as well,” he finishes the sentence for you and you smile at him cheekily.

“we might as well,” you repeat, biting your lip when felix grabs the box of condoms from your hands, opening it up again. it was a joke, but if felix actually decides to push through with it, you knew you’d be sore in the morning, but who cares when felix felt as good as he did? it would be embarrassing to admit, but you might already be addicted to him and everything he has to offer in bed. you watch as he opens a packet. your eyes widen, smacking his shoulder.

“i was kidding!” you laugh and felix shakes his head, cock already hard between his legs.

“i wasn’t.”

#kim tries to write #stray kids #skz #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #lee felix #skz smut #lee felix x reader #kpop scenarios #felix smut #tw// self harm #skz fluff #skz angst #i tried to make this special #i hope y’all enjoy #skz felix smut #skzstorynet

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Black

Prompts: After POF, Roman takes over the abandoned color black. He becomes the hated side that Virgil used to be. By most, anyway. Janus and Virgil are concered. Patton chooses to ignore it. Romans room is really cold? and boy is he touch starved - anon

(Sanders sides Prompt) Any one of the sides is touch starved. fluff. (You dont have to do this just thought I might ask) - anon

Hello there!! I just wanna say that I love your work and I think you’re such a talented writer. Idk if this is a weird ask but would you consider writing Roman angst with the song “it’s OK I wouldn’t remember me either” by crywank as like inspiration? Thank you so much <3 -anon

buckel up babes this one's a doozy

Read on Ao3

Warnings: implied/reference self-harm by way of self-negligence, pretty intense self-hatred and neglect that could verge on suicidal, but NO ONE DIES, everyone's fine at the end, we don't break shit and not fix it in my house

Pairings: it is platonic found family hours

Word Count: 5697

Do you know what no one ever tells you about the color black?

It’s seamless.

There are no cracks, no tears, no imperfections, because everything’s so dark you can’t tell what’s a trick of the light and what isn’t. Everything blends together. At first, second, even third glance, it’s perfect. Pristine, even. It hides absolutely everything. It’s intimidating, honestly, that level of deception. The way it can make anything look like it’s meant to be there, as if to live the colorless and lightless life is all it was ever destined for.

Darkness has always found a way of feeling like home, even to the ones who are afraid of it.

You either die the hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

Roman hadn’t wanted to go to the wedding. He didn’t want to go, but it’s what Patton wanted. It’s what Thomas would’ve wanted. If Roman hadn’t been so loud. But it hurt, it did, when they said that they shouldn’t go to the callback because there was such a slim likelihood of Thomas winning. Because Roman couldn’t win. But Roman wasn’t supposed to be the villain and do something bad so he sent Thomas to the wedding.

Bruises were supposed to be yellow, or green, or purple, not black.

But if he had yellow, green, or purple bruises, he would’ve blamed a yellow, green, or purple Side. And that was bad.

So he hid them, because as he learned, no one was looking for them anyway. Patton cared when he didn’t show up to the video and then he was there and oh, having someone there, even if they only cared a little, was like rainfall in a desert, it was wonderful, Roman would’ve sung if he thought it wouldn’t make everything worse. But Roman was good, so he never complained, and he did his job to the best of his ability.

But what if his job was bad?

But there are two Creativities, a Roman and a Remus. And no one else liked Remus, because Remus was bad and Roman was good. But Remus isn’t bad, he’s just the opposite of Roman. And Roman didn’t want to be Remus because Remus was bad. But Remus isn’t bad.

Creativity isn’t bad.

Bruises aren’t supposed to be black but they can’t be red.

Roman isn’t supposed to be the villain but what else do you call someone who laughs at vulnerability, who scorns people’s earnest attempts to help, who single-handedly ruins someone’s life?

Roman isn’t supposed to be the villain, but bruises aren’t supposed to cover every inch of his skin unless he deserves it.

His skin burns. It crawls and aches and screams and darkens into bruises. His throat aches from the wordless screams and the horrible things he’s said to everyone. He’s been so selfish, he’s tried to make everything go his way, tried to make it about him, not about Thomas, because everything they do is supposed to help Thomas, help Thomas, that’s what they’re supposed to do, they’re supposed to help Thomas, not themselves, why is he doing this, why is he doing this?

Because he’s the villain.

Roman cries.

What else is he supposed to do?

He cries until the tears grow thick, sluggish, oozing out of his eyes until he can’t see anything but them, until his breath grows thick and his chest heavy. He cries until he has to struggle to open his eyes because of how swollen they are, how globulous the tears have become on the ends of his lashes. He cries until his head splits and his chest wails from the pain he isn’t supposed to have but deserves, deserves every little bit. He cries until his body is consumed by the bruises.

His costume is a straightjacket. He needs it off. The white hurts now, it burns his arms and cuffs his wrists. He doesn’t deserve it so he rips it off. Every seam that he ruins is another bruise. The rips are so loud they burrow into some soft part of his brain and live there. The white is still imperfect because it’s on him.

Only when his costume lies in tatters around him, his sash torn off and thrown away, far away, does the white look pure.

He cries himself to sleep with a smile on his face.

Far, far away, a black hoodie is tugged back into the Conscious Mindscape.

When Roman wakes, his head is full of static.

His lungs inflate and collapse on autopilot, driven by the merciless pump of some distant machine, turning the crank to draw air in and out, in and out.

His hands are numb, fingertips rubbed raw and inflamed from tearing relentlessly at fabric. He turns them slowly and it’s like watching himself in a video game.

His face is cold. He paws at his cheeks and feels sticky residue, etched into his skin. His eyes stick slightly when he blinks and he doesn’t know if that’s just his face or if there’s something else.

He is swathed in black fabric, an old threadbare hoodie that has gone years unloved, untouched, unseen. It’s selfishness that makes him tug it closer, feel a faint bubble of pressure on his screaming body.

He should get up, he should go make sure he hasn’t hurt anyone else with his tantrum again, he should apologize.

But…what would be the point?

Like Patton asked, does there come a point when someone keeps apologizing so much that you just have to admit they’re bad?

Roman isn’t good. Has he ever been?

Something interrupts the pleasant numbness and it shoots from his chest to the soft points at the base of his wrists, making his hands tingle. He decides he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t want it. He wants everything to stop.

He’s selfish, they all know that, he’s just going to end up hurting them anyway, so why bother trying to fix it?

Apathy, his tired brain supplies when he lies there, unmoving, on the ground, for hours and hours and hours, unwilling and uncaring to fix things.

But that can’t be right. Roman is here because he cared too much, he did too much, he was too much. How can he now be the epitome of not caring at all?

If only he never cared, if only he wasn’t so attached, if only.

If only he had been Apathy, maybe he wouldn’t have been so hurt.

His pride got him here. His pride, his wants, his his his. He wanted everything and burned down the things that would’ve helped him get there because he couldn’t do it right. He is the villain and villains always have too much pride.

Pride. Apathy.

Prapathy.

Apride.

I’m not Creativity anymore, he thinks to himself as he lies there, still on the floor as his chest aches and his eyes sting and the sticky residue drips down his cheeks onto the bruises. He stares and stares and stares at the wall and a faint part of his mind that exists outside of the static realizes he never did get around to fixing that crack in the baseboard.

Pride, apathy. It doesn’t matter. There’s a much easier word that he can use to describe both of them.

Wrong.

—————————————————————

“I don’t know, Thomas,” Logan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t think that’s a valid solution either.”

“But it makes sense,” Virgil protests, shoving his hands into his pockets, “all we have to do is not talk to anybody else—“

“But that will hurt their feelings!”

“But we won’t hurt ourselves.”

Janus and Patton look at each other for a moment before Patton sighs and scratches the back of his head.

“I—I don’t know, this…this feels weird.”

“None of us are happy about this, Padre,” Virgil mutters, “but it’s the best solution we’ve got.”

“Real high bar we’re setting there, isn’t it?”

“Listen, Snake Face, if you’ve got a better idea—“

“Virgil, enough.” Logan shakes his head. “We need to keep thinking.”

“We’ve been at this for an hour, Logan,” Thomas says cautiously, “I don’t know what else you think we’re gonna get to.”

“We’ve already passed the optimal point for productivity, yes.”

“Oh, well, we can’t just give up now!” Patton puts his hands on his hips. “I’m sure if we just keep at it for a little longer—“

“You said that half an hour ago, Patton.”

“And I’ll say it again!”

“Because that’s going to make everything go much easier.”

Thomas sighs as the Sides fall back into bickering. Normally, this wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary—pretty much all they do is argue back and forth—but Logan’s right. They’ve made almost no progress. He finds himself staring at the TV.

Why is he staring at the TV?

He frowns, tilting his head. It’s literally just his TV. Why is he so fixated on it right now? It’s not like it’s gone anywhere, it’s sitting right where it always is. He stares at it most of the day, why is it so weird that he’s looking at it now?

Wait—

“Guys,” he interrupts, still staring at the thing he’s not supposed to be able to see like this, “where’s Roman?”

The room pauses. Then Logan sighs.

“Oh, of course, that’s why we’ve been having such a hard time coming up with solutions, we don’t have Roman.”

At Virgil’s side-eye, he glances around to see similar looks of disbelief on the other’s faces.

“What?”

“Did you…did you just admit we need Roman?”

“He is Creativity, it makes sense that if we are struggling to be creative, he isn’t here.”

“Okay, that makes more sense.” Virgil shakes his head. “Thought you were admitting he was important or something.”

“Please, his head is big enough as it is.”

Janus hides a snort.

“Why didn’t he show up earlier,” Thomas asks, “he’s normally one of the first of you to get here.”

Virgil shrugs. “I dunno, I haven’t seen that much of him lately.”

“Is he…okay?”

“Who the hell knows, he’s Roman.”

“My guess is he’s been in his room,” Logan says, glancing at Roman’s usual spot, “I haven’t seen him either.”

Thomas doesn’t miss the way Janus and Patton glance at each other. “If you two have information now might be the time to share it.”

“Roman…hasn’t come out of his room,” Patton says after a beat, “not since…”

“Wait, he hasn’t come out since the wedding?”

Janus shakes his head. “I’ve barely seen him open his door.”

“That doesn’t…normally happen, does it?”

“No,” Patton says, “and, uh, he doesn’t normally ignore us either.”

“Ignore you?”

“We’ve tried knocking. It doesn’t work.”

“Perhaps Thomas can summon him,” Logan offers, “you have more power than any of us do, he’d have to answer you.”

“Well, here goes nothing. Creativity!”

Someone pops up in front of the TV.

Someone in a white costume with green embellishments and a mustache.

“Remus?”

Remus glares at them, his Morningstar at his side, his costume white, pristine, and light.

“What the fuck have you done with my brother?”

—————————————————————

It’s been weeks.

The fans have accepted Remus as Creativity. They think that the videos are better than ever. They think this was Thomas’s plan from the beginning.

There is one end card where the Sides are watching a movie and some of them spot a dark figure in the corner. Who could this be? Is this the mysterious orange Side everyone has been waiting for? Is this the Side that’s been hurting Thomas so much?

Zoom and enhance. It’s Virgil’s old hoodie. They’re sitting where Remus used to sit. They’re not staring at the screen, they’re looking at the others. What could this mean?

Someone spots the faint outline of a tiny crown perched atop the figure’s head.

And then, well, then it all makes sense.

There was always one Side that messed up everything, that made everything more complicated. There was always one Side that, if you thought about it, you could trace everything back to. There was always one Side that was told he was making the bad choice and yet, never seemed to learn.

They start to put together timelines, evidence, essay-length meta posts on how of course, this is the plan, why didn’t they see it before? Those that had disliked him from the start crow about how they were right, how everyone doubted them but look who’s laughing now. They point out how he’s become a Dark Side, maybe he was always a Dark Side, and how incredible would that storytelling be? To warn against the pressures of society’s expectations, the idea of good versus bad, or authentic versus forced. How of course, they’re wearing Virgil’s old hoodie because they’re the hated Side now. How they’re not looking at the screen because that’s not what they want, they want to be a part of the famILY.

Vitriolic rants. Accusations. Vent fics. The unsympathetic tag is overflowing.

Because who else could the villain be?

—————————————————————

Roman lives in the cold now.

His fireplace isn’t lit anymore. The door to the Imagination doesn’t work anymore. The blankets on his bed aren’t thick enough anymore. He drifts through a haze where only the emergency systems in his brain are online, where only the awareness needed to sleep, breathe, and move the little bits he needs to move are present.

He doesn’t know that there’s nothing behind the red door anymore, that when Janus and Virgil come to knock on it, worried, or when Remus storms through the Imagination and tries to knock it down by force, there’s nothing for them to find.

He doesn’t know that a new door, a black door, leads from his room to the hallway, far away from any of the other rooms. He doesn’t know that it’s so dark back here that no one would be able to tell there was a door if they didn’t put their nose right up against it.

He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care.

A new kind of ache settles in his bones now. Pain is an old friend, but he’s yet to give suffering a proper handshake.

He misses when he could go and ask someone for help.

He misses when Patton would turn to him without any judgment in his eyes, without any ‘well, you know, kiddo—‘, without any ‘let’s start off with—‘, just the soft words of I’m here, I’ll help you. He misses being able to walk up to Patton’s door and knock on it and know that he would be safe on the other side.

Patton would open the door and soften, his mouth curling up into a small smile as he says hey, kiddo, come in. He would sit Roman down on the bed and press a glass of water into his hands. He would rub his back as he drank, taking the empty glass gently and cupping Roman’s face in his hands. He would ask what’s wrong, sweetheart, what can I do? And Roman would say he just wants a hug, he just wants to not be alone for a bit. And Patton would smile and coo about how Roman was always welcome here, sweetheart, I’m right here, I’ll take care of you. And Roman could fall asleep with his head on Patton’s chest and believe that everything was okay.

He misses when he could walk up to Logan and ask for help and he wouldn’t be scoffed at or turned away, he wouldn’t be looked at suspiciously and asked what he really wanted. He misses when Logan could come to him too and just spend time together.

Logan would knock on his door and ask if you have a moment, would you like to walk with me? And Roman would smile and say, of course, he always has time for Logan, and they could go somewhere in the Imagination and just talk. And Logan would say that’s an interesting idea, I wonder if—and they would walk and talk for hours. And Roman could bustle up to Logan’s door and say I’ve just thought of something, and Logan would open his door and be happy to talk with Roman and it would be okay.

Roman curls up tighter and feels nothing.

He wishes he could have something to miss for Virgil. He wishes they could have bonded over their love of Disney, their want to talk about the things they’re interested in, or even the need to just have someone else in the room with them for a bit. He wishes their relationship wasn’t just spitting barbs at each other, each hoping to hit the bullseye first and knock the other one out of the race. He wishes he could’ve done better.

He wishes he could have something to miss for Janus. He wishes they could’ve done this right, that they could’ve bonded over the want to keep Thomas safe but also have him be himself. He wishes that he hadn’t laughed, hadn’t scorned, hadn’t fallen back on his pride to keep himself safe at the expense of Thomas. He wishes that maybe, just maybe, if he had been a better puppet, then he wouldn’t have been dropped so suddenly.

But as it stands now, more than anything he wishes he could hear them when they say the things they say about him because then he could figure out which bruises were theirs and take comfort in knowing that they still touch him in some way.

The bruises are a constant now. From the online hate to the casual remarks from the others to the way that Patton hasn’t even tried to come find him anymore—he can hear that, you know—he can’t turn over without landing on a new smattering of bruises. The hoodie helps to cushion the blow a little bit.

He misses Remus.

Remus was…

…Remus was everything.

Roman misses his other half. Roman misses his brother. Roman misses his Creativity.

When they were small they would curl around each other as if they could fuse if they focused hard enough. They would wrap their arms around each other so tightly that it would be a pleasant ache when they woke, never minding because they were tighter. Remus was always so warm and Roman hoarded every single bit he could get.

Roman was cruel to push his brother away and now he understands how it feels.

He misses Thomas.

He misses when he was allowed to go and see Thomas. When he could talk to Thomas. When his presence was celebrated or at the very least, tolerated. He misses it. He misses helping.

But he’s helping now, by staying away.

He’s cold.

He’s so cold.

—————————————————————

do you remember what it felt like

to be touched?

press of fingertips against shoulders

bump of a forehead against yours

palms meeting and parting a mere second later

in days gone by

do you remember

warm?

humans thrive off physical contact,

we’re not built to hold each other

at arms’ length.

infants will die

if they aren’t held enough.

and I am so

so

cold

—————————————————————

Something is wrong and even Patton can’t ignore it anymore.

The Sides shuffle uneasily in front of the red door until Remus raises his hand to knock against it.

“Roman?”

Silence.

“Roman, please, please, just—just say something.”

Silence.

“Where the fuck are you, Roman?”

“Don’t yell,” Logan mumbles, “you’ll make him think we’re angry at him.”

Remus takes a deep breath.

“We’re not angry, Ro-bro, we’re just—just please make some noise.”

Silence.

“…we’re coming in, Roman.”

But they can’t. Because as Remus turns the knob on the door, it falls forward. The entire door comes off just to reveal—

A blank wall. With no sign that there was ever a room behind it.

Thomas can hear the scream.

—————————————————————

Roman hears the scream and can’t move. But he can close his eyes and reach out and see what’s going on. After all, he hasn’t done anything, so something must be wrong if someone else is screaming.

He feels something in his chest twist and snap.

“Re?”

Across the Mindscape, Remus’s head jerks up.

“Ro,” he breathes, getting to his feet and rushing off down the hall as the others hurry after him, “Ro!”

“Remus, what’s going on?”

“Why isn’t Roman’s room there anymore?”

“Where are you going?”

They barrel into the hallway and smack into a black door. Logan’s eyes widen as he realizes what’s happened.

“Roman’s become a Dark Side,” he says, fingers scrabbling where the door meets the wall, “he’s—he’s really hurt, we have to help—“

“Move, L, I’m gonna break the door down.”

“You’re not gonna do it without me.”

“Roman!”

Roman turns his head to look at the door. Are they…here? The hoodie rasps against his undead skin and he winces. There are still bruises.

“Roman!”

The door shudders its frame. He could open it. He could. He just has to reach out and—

“Ro!”

Remus.

The door unlatches and his brother pours into the room, letting out a wail when he spots Roman in the bed.

Janus hisses as soon as he crosses the threshold, this room is freezing. It feels as if no one’s moved for years inside, as if the heat has been sucked out entirely. His gaze flies to Remus, who’s over on the bed, his hands scrabbling at something in black material.

Roman.

“Oh, little prince,” he whispers, horrified, “no, no, no—“

“We have to get him out,” Logan orders, startling Remus into action as he scoops Roman into his arms, “we have to get him warm. His core temperature is too low.”

“Shower? Bath?”

“No, if we shock his system we could make it worse. Janus, I need your heating pads, Patton, something warm to drink.”

Janus and Patton vanish.

“Virgil, weighted blankets, Remus—“

“I’m here.” As Virgil ducks away as well, Remus helps Logan cradle the limp and freezing form of his brother in their arms as they begin to rush out of that horrible, horrible room. “You thinking bathroom?”

“Get him to Janus’s, that’ll be the safest place.”

“Got it.”

Sure enough, Janus has no objection and sweeps them inside, setting down the heating pads as Patton bustles in with two thermos flasks and a mug. Virgil pops back with thick blankets as they lay the cold form on the ground. Roman’s eyes blink sluggishly as he stares up at Remus.

“...Re?”

“Yeah, Roro, it’s me, I’m right here, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here faster.”

“What’s…wha’s going on?”

“You’re too cold, Roman,” Logan says gently, “we need to get you warmed up.”

“Oh…”

“It will be easier if we take a few of the layers off,” he explains, still careful to keep his voice low and even as the others scurry around, “is that alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to unzip the hoodie.” Logan works slowly, patiently, stopping when any flicker crosses Roman’s face. “That’s it, you’re doing very well, I’m almost done.”

By the time he’s coaxed the hoodie off of Roman’s shoulders, there’s a little bit of color back in his cheeks.

“Very good, Roman, you did well. Virgil’s brought a few warm blankets and Janus has heating pads for you, do you think you can sit up?”

“Don’t know.”

“That’s alright, you’re doing alright.” Logan glances up at Janus.

“Little prince,” Janus murmurs, sitting by Roman’s head, “if you can sit up, I can sit behind you and help warm you up, does that sound alright?”

“Okay.”

“Thank you, sweetie, we’re going to sit you up now.”

Logan and Janus sit Roman up slowly, only to pause when the long sleeves of his shirt fall down.

“Roman,” Logan asks, trying frantically to keep his voice calm, “are you hurt?”

“Mhm.”

He bites back the fearful response and patiently asks where, how bad, can he see?

“Everywhere.” Roman lifts his arms weakly. “’S all bruises.”

“…can we see?”

“Okay.”

Logan’s hands begin to tremble as he works the shirt over Roman’s head. He wasn’t kidding when he said everywhere.

There’s barely an inch of skin that doesn’t look bruised black and blue. Patton stifles a cry as he drops to his knees next to them, looking at Roman like he’s never seen it this bad before.

Oh, Roman, how did they not know? How could he just ignore him like that?

“Get him covered,” comes Virgil’s voice, “he’s still too cold.”

Janus grabs one of the blankets and wraps it carefully around Roman’s form. It should help distribute whatever pressure they apply so it won’t aggravate his injuries too severely. He takes one heating pad and scoots forward, bracketing Roman’s legs with his own and wrapping one pair of arms around him to press the pad to his chest.

“Can you feel that, sweetie,” he asks softly, “is that too warm?”

“No.”

“Good, good, little prince, you’re being very brave.” He turns away to reach for another and so misses the little shudder that goes through Roman. “Do you think you can handle another if I press it to the back of your neck?”

“Mm.”

“Let’s try, little prince, and if it’s too much, I’ll stop.”

“Okay.”

“Here we go, sweetie—“ Janus presses it carefully to the base of Roman’s skull, just at the edge of the blanket— “there, does that feel okay?”

“Mm.”

“Good, sweetie, you’re doing so well, so good for us, that’s it, you relax now.”

Roman starts to tremble.

“That’s alright,” Logan soothes, “you’re warming up, it means you’re going to shiver a little more, you’re alright, Roman, you’re safe. You’re doing well.”

It certainly doesn’t seem that way once Roman’s breath starts to come in gasps. Virgil nudges Patton out of the way and sits, gently calling Roman’s name until his gaze snaps to Virgil’s.

“Hey, Princey,” Virgil says slowly, “you gotta stay with me now, okay? We’re right here, no one’s angry, nothing’s going to hurt you. Just focus on me.”

He ignores the startled noises when Roman starts to cry thick, black tears.

“Eyes on me, Princey, that’s it, stay here. We’re just gonna sit here and breathe for a moment, okay?” Roman nods and Virgil starts to take big, exaggerated breaths. “Good. That’s it, Princey, you focus on me and you breathe. It’s okay. You’re doing great. Just stay here.”

When the viscous black liquid slows, Virgil reaches out and begins to tuck Roman’s hair back. A moment longer and he pauses, noting how the scratch on Roman’s face is covered in the thick black tears.

“Princey, can I clean your face off for you? You’re doing really well at breathing, I’m proud of you. Can I help you with the rest of it?”

“O-okay.”

There’s a bottle of micellar water and a pack of cotton circles pressed into his hands. He moves in slow, careful strokes, changing out the circles as often as he needs to. A pile of them grows beside him as he works, doing his best to get all the black off of Roman’s face. Roman just cries.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Patton murmurs when Roman’s cry gives way to a wail, “it’s okay, you cry all you need to, we’re not going anywhere, it’ll be alright.”

“We have you, sweetie,” Janus says against Roman’s neck, “we’re here.”

Remus lets out a broken noise.

“Oh, Roman, you didn’t…”

Logan’s head whips sharply around to scold Remus only for his mouth to fall open in shock.

Remus’s costume is bleeding too. The same black that drips down Roman’s face is slowly coloring Remus’s costume again, back to what it normally looks like. Remus’s mouth is agape, staring horrified at Roman.

“Oh, Ro—“

“What’s going on?”

“Check the bruises on his neck,” Remus orders as Janus pulls back the blanket, “are they still there?”

“They’re here, but they’re…lighter, how is that—?”

“Roman is the Ego,” Patton mumbles, “he gets bruised when—when—“

“Oh, shit,” Virgil curses, before quickly hushing Roman’s discontented mumble, “and with all the hate that’s been gunning for him—“

“Oh, sweetheart—“

Roman lets out another sob and the tears run clear.

“The Ego is kept healthy by positive attention,” Logan says softly, scooting closer and rubbing Roman’s shoulder through the blanket, “you’ve been starving, haven’t you?”

“He’s not cold because he’s hypothermic,” Remus blusters, “he’s touch starved.”

“It’s still not safe to introduce him to direct contact all at once,” Logan warns when Patton and Remus look like they want to rip the blanket off, “we have to take it slow.”

“So what do we do?”

Janus just leans down and presses a kiss to Roman’s temple. “You’re so brave, sweetie, you’ve been so strong.”

They watch as Roman’s tears begin to wash away the black.

“We love you, sweetheart, you’re so important to us.”

“Stay with us, Princey, we need you.”

“You’re doing very well, Roman, we’re very proud of you.”

Roman cries, ducking his head into Virgil’s waiting hands as Remus’s costume colors itself black again.

After a long while, when Remus looks like he normally does, Roman shakes his head and looks up at them.

“Where am I,” and he sounds like Roman again, “what’s happened?”

“You were starving, sweetheart,” Patton mumbles, “and we didn’t notice until it was too late.”

“O-oh,” Roman blinks, “is that…is that why I’m so cold?”

“You’re touch starved too,” Virgil adds, “and we, uh, L said it wasn’t a good idea to try and shock you out of it.”

“Try and drink something,” Logan says quickly as Patton reaches for the mug, “you’ve been crying for a while and you’re dehydrated.”

“Is that…hot chocolate?”

“Your favorite, kiddo.”

Remus sits down at Roman’s side as he drinks, staring at him like he’s not seen him in ages. Which, well, none of them have, really.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” Roman repeats, looking sheepishly at all of them, “I, uh, well, the last video I messed up a lot. I, uh, I shouldn’t have laughed at your name, Jan—where are you?”

“Right here,” Janus mumbles, giving him a gentle squeeze, “and you’re forgiven.”

“Oh. Uh, that was easy…are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Yes, it wasn’t great of you to do, but I’m not exactly blameless either and…”

He squeezes him again.

“…you’ve been hurting enough.”

“Logan, you too, I—I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Roman, but I agree. It’s alright.”

“Why are you all forgiving me so fast?”

“Because,” Remus mumbles, cupping Roman’s head and resting their foreheads together, “this happened.”

They all watch as Roman shudders as Remus shows him what happened.

“Oh—oh—I—oh no—“

“It’s over now, sweetie,” Janus reassures, “we’ve got you. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

“C-can I have a hug?”

“Of course, honey, come here—“

“Let’s get the blanket out of the way, L, is he—“

“It should be safe now, yes.”

“Remus, I—oof!”

“I gotcha, Ro-Bro.”

“It’s still—I’m still—“

“Patton, grab that end of the blanket.”

“This one?”

“That’s it, yes.”

The Sides end up swaddled in the blanket, their heads poking out, as each of them pulls a little bit of Roman into their arms to warm up. Janus and Remus wrap around his upper body, mindful of the few bruises that haven’t been healed yet. His legs are in Patton’s lap, as Logan and Virgil each hold on to his hands. The poor thing is still shivering, still shaking, still a little overwhelmed.

But Janus coos into his ear as his head lolls back, Remus holding him tightly. Logan’s thumb strokes over his palm as Virgil lets him squeeze as tight as he needs to. Patton makes sure he’s off the cold tile and he’s warm.

They’re going to have to work out what to do about the fans, about the videos, but right now they need to worry about Roman.

Speaking of Roman—

“I—I need to apologize to Thomas.”

A cry goes up as he says so, Patton reaching up to pat his knee. “You don’t have to do that right now, sweetheart, rest, it’s okay—“

“I won’t—he won’t be able to rest until he knows what’s happened.”

As if he can hear them, they feel the familiar tug of one of them being summoned. A quick glance around shows that if one of them is going, all of them are, so they appear on the floor of the living room, swaddled in the blanket.

Thomas’s mouth drops open and he rushes to their side.

“I was gonna ask if you found Roman, but I—Roman, buddy, are you okay?”

“I…I don’t know,” Roman mumbles, “but I’m sorry.”

“For what, buddy?”

As Roman begins to apologize, for being away, for hurting Thomas, for being selfish, Thomas just shakes his head.

“No, buddy, that’s not all on you. You—yeah, okay, some things happened, but it’s not entirely your fault. You don’t need to think of it like that.”

“Well said,” Logan mutters, “now help us get Roman to rest.”

“So what Disney movie are we watching and how many pillows do we need?”

A lot, as it turns out, is the answer. And they have to bite back laughs at the way Thomas makes a noise when he’s swept into the blanket too. But Thomas is warm and Roman is still cold and the movie plays on the screen.

“Hey, Roman?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re my hero.”

General Taglist:@frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb  @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @cerulean-watermelon @puffed-up-bees

if you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

#sanders sides #dragonbabbles #fic #roman sanders #roman angst #roman sanders angst #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #remus sanders

[moonbeamwritings]

street light serenade

Summary: Unable to sleep, you call up a certain mangaka for company, convincing him to drive around Morioh with you in the dead of night. What comes next exposes much more than what his most recent draft is focused on.

Author’s Note: Rohan simps come get y’all juice 🗣️🗣️ I hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think!!

Sleep eluded you, as it often did when you were overwhelmed with university work, tossing and turning for hours on end as your mind swirled with all of the assignments you were too worn out to finish. It was nearing twelve o’clock and you couldn’t bring yourself to pick up a pencil or read any more academic journals.

Finally deciding to just get up and move around, you ventured down the hallway and out into the kitchen. A cup of tea could do some good, you thought.

With the tea kettle on the stove, you hopped up onto your counter, mind reeling with other ways you could get yourself to fall asleep. You could go for a walk, watch tv, or listen to music. Maybe going for a drive could help alleviate the stress crowding your brain.

As the kettle began to hiss, your mind was made up. A drive around Morioh sounded perfect, but one question remained. Should you go on your own? 

Without a second thought, you pulled your phone from the wall, eagerly dialing the number of the only person you thought would be awake at this hour.

Rohan Kishibe.

It took a few moments for him to answer, casting doubt on the possibility of your plan coming to fruition.

“What do you want?” His voice was sharp and biting, clearly not thrilled about being pulled from whatever he was doing.

“Hello to you too, Rohan. Do you want to come for a drive with me? I can’t sleep.”

Rohan’s response was immediate, sparing you no kind words or easy let-downs, “No.”

“Come on, please. I’ll pick you up! You don’t even have to do anything!” You knew you were beginning to grovel, trying to sway him to indulge your midnight whims, but you didn’t care.

“I’m not getting caught dead in that tin can you call a car.”

“Some of us have student loans to pay off, you know. Plus, who would see you anyway?”

You could hear him scoff through the phone, a short judgmental sound followed by a few long moments of silence. As soon as you thought he had hung up on you, he spoke, “I’ll pick you up in five minutes. If you’re not ready, I’m going home.”

A click sounded before you could get a word in. He was such a pain in the ass.

Rohan wasn’t easy to like, or easy to get along with, and he knew that, but you searched for his company often, asking him to coffee or lunch or stopping by to give him a new book he could use for research. At first, he would roll his eyes and scoff at your presence, annoyed at the prospect of someone so wholeheartedly thrusting themselves into his quiet little life. However, as time went on, he began to crave conversations with you, though he would never admit it.

So when you called, practically begging him to go for a drive, he couldn’t really say no, despite the apathetic lilt to his voice. Reluctantly, he pushed away from his desk, gathered his keys, and headed out. He would indulge you, if only just this once.

With your teacup long since forgotten, you raced around your home, throwing a comfy sweatshirt over your head and slipping into your shoes. Casting one final glance at yourself in the mirror, you lept out the front door, seconds after Rohan pulled up.

Plopping yourself into his passenger seat, you let out an excited greeting.

“You’re far too energetic for this time of night.” He replied, hand reaching across the gap to land on the back of your chair as he backed out of your driveway.

“What?” You whined, pouting at his tone. “Car rides are fun!”

“You sound like a dog.”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

The car fell silent as he began to drive, taking random turns and heading in whatever direction he pleased.

You brought a hand up to the radio, fiddling with the dials and buttons until you landed on your favorite station. You lowered the volume, sending the music into the background, rather than allowing it to ruin the calm energy in the car.

Rohan glanced over at you every so often, admiring the ways that the street lights mixed as they sped by, molding together to cast interesting shadows along your face.

The whole experience felt almost surreal in a sense, traveling through liminal spaces as some silly pop song played softly through the speakers. Just the two of you, the street lights, and the rumble of the car.

After another turn, you began to ask Rohan more about his life. What motivated him, what he was currently working on, when he was traveling again. Every question on your mind seemed to pass your lips, eager to become closer to the man that tried so hard to keep you at arm’s length.

He humored you, of course, but not without little complaints and jests, “You working for a gossip magazine or something?”

“No, I just want to get to know you. That’s all.”

Your response made something tighten in his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had shown genuine, unmotivated interests in his thoughts and feelings. He was so used to the same questions, people entertaining his presence in order to weasel their way in, hoping to get some money or fame through his friendship.

You were different, a welcomed change.

When you exhausted your questions, he picked his own. How were your studies going, did you have anything lined up for once you graduated, what had you so worked up you couldn’t sleep. If you were going to know more about him, then he would like to return the favor.

Growing tired of taking the same turns, Rohan directed your little mission to a scenic overlook, angling the car so you could both stare out at the ocean.

It was peaceful, sitting under the light of the moon with you, watching as it bounced off the waves below, creating swirling patterns of dark sea and pale moonlight.

The orange glow of the streetlight on his side of the car casted a shadow along the side of his face, illuminating his high cheekbones and green eyes. Your eyes traveled down his neck, absorbing the way that same shadow warped against his neck and collar bones. In your eyes, he was rendered ethereal in this light, an untouchable being with an indescribable beauty.

“I didn’t know you had a staring problem.”

He could feel your eyes boring holes into the side of his head and it was starting to bother him. You can’t just stare at people, refusing to utter even a word. It was annoying.

Still so hypnotized by the light playing against his face, you responded without a second thought, “Rohan, you’re beautiful.”

Your words left you both speechless, rendered even more silent following your confession. You were embarrassed beyond words and Rohan was in absolute disbelief.

“What?”

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Just the,” you floundered, hands rising in falling in a desperate attempt to collect your thoughts, to form some sort of explanation, “the light.”

You cleared your throat, “The light behind you… it’s casting a pretty shadow. That’s all.”

Through your pathetic attempt at deflecting his question, he examined you, turning in his seat to really take you in. The same light casting shadows on him created a perfect beam on your own face, your soft skin and kind eyes on full display. He laughed, the whole situation both ridiculous and welcome at the same time. A mix of literal and subjective interpretations of the phrase “seeing someone in a new light.”

He scoffed, a smirk lighting his face as he pulled you closer, closing the distance created by the center console, “You talk too much.”

With that, he planted his lips against yours in a searing kiss. Your hands came up to trace along his cheekbones while his hand remained on the back of your head.

Rohan wasn’t one to wax poetic about just anyone, that much you knew. So as he pulled away, still holding your head as he began to describe how you looked under the light streaming in from outside, you felt your face warm. The slope of your nose, the curve of your cheeks, the delicate dip of your cupid’s bow, all made beautiful under Rohan’s diligent stare.

When he was finished, he readjusted his position to sit facing forward again with his hands resting on the steering wheel, “You’re alright, I guess.”

That’s the Rohan you knew and loved.

The two of you remained at the overlook for another hour, chatting and listening to music, but as he watched your blinking begin to slow, your eyes begin to grow heavy, Rohan elected to take you home.

As he drove along side streets, passing neighborhoods and businesses, he stretched a hand over to land against your thigh, gently squeezing it every so often.

Maybe he could afford to put this side of himself on display more often, if only for you.

#rohan kishibe x reader #rohan kishibe imagine #rohan x reader #rohan imagine #jjba x reader #jjba imagine

[late-to-the-party-81]

ANGELS LIKE YOU

Summary

A small look into the relationship between Natasha Romanov and Clint Barton, examining their relationship and feelings for each other.

Author Notes:

N.B. - I haven't seen the Black Widow film yet - hopefully this is (mostly) canon compliant.

Not beta'd, hopefully it flows okay and their aren't too many grammar errors

I’ve copied this over from my AO3 account as an experiment as I’m getting used to tumblr

Track - Angels Like You by Miley Cyrus

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Natasha couldn’t pinpoint when the feeling of ‘wrongness’ had started, but she knew the exact moment it crystallised and could no longer be ignored.

Nine months ago Clint Barton had made a decision which changed both of their lives forever; he didn’t kill her. Instead he had brought her in, managing to incapacitate and capture the famous Black Widow, seeing something redeemable in her that she didn’t see in herself.

For the first few weeks the only people she had contact with were Clint and Nick Fury. It was Clint who tended her wounds, talked to her and reluctantly injected her with sedatives when she tried to attack them and escape. She was kept in a room which contained the bare minimum; metal furniture securely bolted to the floor – nothing to make a weapon from. Barely more than a prison cell.

But as the weeks passed, her fear diminished. She had never been scared of them, but she had been scared by what those in charge at the Red Room would do if they thought she hadn’t tried to free herself and return to them. If they had wanted her back though, they would have been here by now, surely? Therefore, she was no longer of use to them. Maybe they thought she was dead? But either way, it seemed that now she was free of them. She didn’t know what to make of that. Her whole life, her whole self, had been dedicated to them.

It would be easy to think that she had imprinted on Clint, like an orphaned starling, but they both knew it was more than that, the pull between them, this feeling of completeness in the other’s company. She knew he felt it as much as she did. And then one day, whilst training, preparing her for her first mission with SHEILD, the first major step in her new life, they had crashed together.

Lips, tongues, teeth. Hands scrabbling at clothes, nails scratching and breathless gasps. An absolute feeling of ‘rightness’ until it was followed by just that niggle of ‘wrongness’. She knew she loved him and he her. Surely this was what was supposed to occur between them?

Everything was odd between them for a few days until she literally bumped into him. His hands coming up to grasp her upper arms in reflex to steady her, his smiling face looking down at her. She thought he looked like an angel, the angel that had saved her. She didn’t know which one of them moved first, but they were kissing again, the heat between them undiminished. They made it to one of their rooms, full of the need to be close, completely connected. She remembers she cried out, remembers the tears that fell from her eyes as she was overwhelmed with it all.

From then on they were inseparable. They worked missions together, their skills complementary, and a bond that bordered on telepathic. Something happened in Budapest, but they never discussed it with anyone else.

Outside of missions there was barely an inch between them if they could help it, but the feeling of wrongness teased at the edges of her mind. She saw how Clint smiled to himself when they were out, undercover, and they he spotted families together, the father swinging around a giggling child. They observed family cookouts, couples together in restaurants, their love and affection on display for the world to see, and no cares except each other. She could never give him that. Never be able to give him the children he so desperately craved, despite him never voicing it. She didn’t think she would ever be able to relax enough in this life to have any of the other things either.

Natasha knew he could tell she was withdrawing. Their intimacy was still passionate and hurried; rough and fulfilling. But Clint was no fool. She needed him, in ways she couldn’t describe, but as he tried different ways to reach her, she knew, that eventually, it would end. She would make him miserable and he would hate her.

That end, the clarity of wrongness, came when she found him waiting for her, a bunch of flowers in his hand. He looked at her, sadness in his eyes, and he called her ‘baby’. They both knew this was it. She took his face in her hands and kissed him, soft and tender, the first and last time. That night their loving was slow, the most bittersweet of goodbyes. They had no need for words.

She left before sunrise that morning. She went to Nick’s office, unsurprised he was there so early. Without a word he slid a folder across the desk for her. A new mission. A solo mission. One that would take her away for months. Was there nothing this perceptive man didn’t know? It didn’t take her long to grab her ‘go bag’ from her room and then she was off.

But Clint didn’t hate her. He messaged her later that day, telling her to stay safe, and asked her to keep in touch when she could. It was awkward at first, but as they texted, then called, each other, they fell back into their easy rapport. When she finally returned he wrapped her in the biggest hug and they stayed up all night, eating pizza, talking and watching zombie movies.

Clint fell in love. Laura could give him everything he wanted. Natasha couldn’t help but love her too. Laura opened her heart to the other half of Clint’s soul, never jealous, never insecure. Then came Cooper, and Lila, then Nathaniel, and Natasha knew joy and love like she’d never known before. Her family, she realised, as unconventional as it was.

But with a snap of a mad man’s fingers it was gone, blown to dust. Clint, so bent on vengeance, abandoned her. And she couldn’t help but blame herself. Her soul, covered in red and violence had tainted his. Then, five years later, a glimmer of hope….

“Damn you!” There is hurt in his eyes as he realises she’s secured him to the rock.

“Let me go,” she commands, softly.

“No, please don’t.” Tears roll down his face, and she can see his heart breaking.

“It’s okay.” And she knows what she has said is true. If this works (and god, it has to work), everyone that she loves, that Clint loves, will return. This is a journey she has to make alone, her angel can’t fly down with her. She kicks off from the cliff, breaking his grip on her wrist and she falls. She loves him so much.

Laura stands, watching her husband. She doesn’t know how to comfort him. He is crouched down at the side of a grave stone. It was a quiet, private ceremony, as per the wishes Nat had given, many years ago. Clint is trying to reconcile the fact that he had to give up one part of himself to get another part back. He is angry and grateful and elated and sad and fucking traumatised. If he thinks too hard his head might explode. He screams, fingers curling into the dirt by the headstone of the empty grave. He screams and screams until his throat can longer make any sound and he is lying on side, sobbing. He feels Laura holding him, rocking him and stroking his hair, until at last he is able to return to his feet and be led to the car. He doesn’t know how he will go on without his angel with the red hair.

Notes:

This story has lived rent free in my head from almost the first moment I heard this song. Think what you like about Miley, but the emotion in the lyrics and her voice as she sings this - shivers!!! And I cry nearly everytime I sing along.

The pain of knowing you have to leave a loved one behind for their own good, because otherwise you will ruin them.

Okay, I'm waxing lyrical here, but please, do listen to it to fully understand this work.

#archive of our own #fanfiction #clintasha #mcu fanfiction

[bananaofswifts]

By : Callie Ahlgrim and Courteney Larocca

Taylor Swift released her eighth studio album, "Folklore," on Friday.

Swift surprised fans by announcing its release just one day in advance — and less than one year after the release of her acclaimed seventh album "Lover."

"Most of the things I had planned this summer didn't end up happening, but there is something I had planned that DID happen," she wrote on social media. "And that thing is my 8th studio album, folklore. Surprise!"

She described "Folklore," stylized in all lowercase, as "an entire brand new album of songs I've poured all of my whims, dreams, fears, and musings into."

Much of the 16-song tracklist — 17 on the deluxe edition — was cowritten and produced by The National's Aaron Dessner. Smaller pieces were cowritten by Bon Iver, Jack Antonoff, and someone named William Bowery. Antonoff also produced five songs.

Insider's music team (reporter Callie Ahlgrim and celebrity and music editor Courteney Larocca) listened to the new album on our own, jotting down our initial thoughts track by track.

Almost immediately, we were forced to reckon with the fact that "Folklore" might be Swift's best album yet — potentially even better than "Red," which previously seemed like it couldn't be topped. We were stunned with the mature, poetic, stunningly understated collection of new songs.

Here is what we thought of each song on "Folklore" upon first listen. (Skip to the end to see the only songs worth listening to and the album's final score.)

"The 1" is the best album opener Swift has had in years.

Ahlgrim: "I'm doing good, I'm on some new s---" is a wild way to begin a new Taylor Swift album. This is going to be different.

This is easily the best intro song she's released in years. "The 1" far surpasses "I Forgot That You Existed" on "Lover," "...Ready for It?" on "Reputation," and "Welcome to New York" on "1989" in terms of sheer quality.

It's also an engaging scene-setter; I find myself gently rocking back and forth, eyes closed, smiling without realizing. It's only the first song and so far, I am totally grasping the woodsy aesthetic of this album. I'm already ready for more.

Larocca: I would argue that there hasn't been a strong album opener on one of Swift's albums since "State of Grace" on "Red" in 2012. "The 1" breaks that curse.

I was vibing from that very first piano note, but when Swift comes in and warmly delivers the first line of the album — "I'm doing good, I'm on some new s---" — it became evident this project wouldn't be anything like the rest of her discography.

As far as "The 1" goes as a standalone song, it's incredibly solid. Swift has a breezy attention to rhythm as she paints a tale of a the-one-who-got-away romance. I truly, truly love it. This might end up being an all-time favorite track.

"Cardigan" is beautifully influenced by Lana Del Rey.

Ahlgrim: I heard "Cardigan" first because I watched the music video before I listened to the album.

Right off the bat, I was struck by the Lana Del Rey melody in the chorus; I jotted down "folksy 'Blue Jeans.'"

Swift has actually cited Del Rey as an inspiration in the past, so this makes sense — and that particular shade of nostalgic, haunting glamour really works for Swift's voice, so I'm overall very impressed with this direction. I am more than amenable to a "Red" meets "Norman F---ing Rockwell!" album experience. On my second time around listening, sans music video, "Cardigan" already feels richer coming after "The 1."

This time, I'm struck by small lyrical details like "Sequined smile, black lipstick," a clear callback to her past eras, and "Tried to change the ending / Peter losing Wendy," an effective way to evoke young love and innocence lost.

I also think the song's central refrain, "When you are young they assume you know nothing," is clean and sharp and — especially given Swift's public struggles with sexism and years-old contracts — extremely poignant.

Larocca: I had the thought that Swift listens to Lana Del Rey after hearing "Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince" on last year's "Lover," but now I know for sure that Del Rey is an influence on Swift.

While "Cardigan" isn't what I thought this album would be like sonically, I'm overjoyed at how clearly singer-songwriter this album already is. I've been waiting years for Swift to make a lyrical marvel set to acoustic, warm, folksy instrumentals and it's here.

(And while I expected something different sonically, I am not mad at all by the backing instrumental choices here.)

"The Last Great American Dynasty" proves Swift is a natural storyteller.

Ahlgrim: Personally, I love Storyteller Taylor, so this is quite literally music to my ears.

There are so many delicious details here to unpack. The first verse, with its subtle sexist whisperings about Rebekah Harkness ("How did a middle-class divorcée do it?" and "It must have been her fault his heart gave out"), is a truly savvy way to set up for the song's eventual reveal.

Rebekah spent her time partying with friends, funding the ballet, playing card games with Salvador Dalí, somehow "ruining everything" — and her Holiday House was "free of women with madness" until Swift herself moved in.

That twist in the bridge is poetic genius. When the final chorus adjusts to the present day, underscoring the parallels between Rebekah and Swift, I'm forcefully reminded of an iconic bridge when Romeo finally proposed and changed everything — but Swift has evolved past daydreams of pure white dresses and fathers giving permission.

Larocca: I'm immediately taken back to 2012's "Starlight" when "The Last Great American Dynasty" starts. Thankfully, this song ends up being a lot better than "Starlight," which always felt more like a filler track on "Red" to me.

I love a lot here: the casual use of "b----," the acute attention to detail ("She stole his dog and dyed it key lime green"), and every version of this line: "There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen."

I had a marvelous time listening to this song.

"Exile," featuring Bon Iver, is one of Swift's most successful duets to date.

Ahlgrim: Swift and Bon Iver, aka Justin Vernon, are two of the best songwriters alive today, so this song was destined to be breathtaking.

Swift has historically had difficulty allowing her voice and vision to coexist with a featured artist; her collaborations often leave me feeling like she should've just delivered the whole song herself.

But Swift and Vernon were able to weave their lyrics together so gracefully, I was left feeling grateful for his presence. His rich, rustic tone and those iconic hummed harmonies lends the regretful song an added coat of sincerity.

The production here is generally fine, but the layered instrumentals in the ending really bring the song together. I love a dramatic exit.

Larocca: When I see a "featuring Bon Iver" on a track, I instantly assume Vernon is going to come in with his high falsetto. So it was almost jarring that the song starts with Vernon sounding like a lumberjack dad who hasn't left the woods in a decade.

That didn't end up being a detriment, though. Swift sounds delicate on her verse, and their vocals contrast nicely later on the track.

This one also brings to mind her collab "The Last Time" with Snow Patrol's Gary Lightbody. The line "I think I've seen this film before and I didn't like the ending" is also reminiscent of "If This Was a Movie."

I'm obsessed with the clear influences Swift's previous discography had on these tracks, which have also so far felt completely unique to her catalog.

"My Tears Ricochet" is an extraordinary display of Swift's songwriting powers.

Ahlgrim: First of all, "My Tears Ricochet" is an incredible song title. Let's take a moment to appreciate that.

In fact, pretty much every line of this song is arresting.

Much of it feels both familiar and rare, like you know exactly what Swift is singing about, but hadn't thought to put it in those words before — which is, in my opinion, the mark of any good piece of writing but especially a breakup song. You can relate to the emotion, if not the particular details. You can hear the pain. It almost plays like a funeral march.

What a gift it is, what an exhilarating experience, to feel like you're listening to a poem being recited in real-time.

Larocca: Any true Swiftie knows that track five is reserved for the most vulnerable moment on the record, so I went into "My Tears Ricochet" ready to be sad.

I am endlessly impressed with how Swift managed to bake the word "ricochet" into this song so effectively. She also ditched her traditional song structure for this one, and instead built the track from peak to peak, utilizing clever lyrics along the way to tell an epic, devastating story, almost obviously calling back to the most beloved track five of "All Too Well."

I'm calling it now — this one is going to age like a fine wine. As all of Swift's best breakup ballads do.

"Mirrorball" is several strokes of genius.

Ahlgrim: This song gives me intense Clairo vibes, and I mean that as a very high compliment.

It's so fun and refreshing to hear Swift slip into different musical styles, and this shimmery take on alternative-bedroom-pop highlights her soft vocals and nuanced songwriting supremely well.

Also, my Leo sensibilities are fully under attack by this bridge: "I've never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try / I'm still on that trapeze / I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me." Oof! Just tag me next time.

Larocca: This one is so pretty! Swift's vocals sound better than ever as she spins on her highest heels across a glittery daydream.

"I'm a mirrorball / I'll show you every version of yourself tonight" might be the thesis statement of this entire album. So far, "Folklore" feels both diaristic and vague; detailed and completely anonymous.

Fans will be debating for years whether this album is about Swift's own life, or if it's simply really great storytelling pulled directly from her own mind. In the end, it doesn't really matter.

Because as all of Swift's best songs do, these songs will attach themselves to listeners in completely new ways, showing them elements and stories from their own lives.

"Seven" is pure whimsical magic.

Ahlgrim: This is playing make-believe in the garden when you're too young to feel self-conscious; it's poetic and nostalgic and full of awe in such an unpretentious way.

I wouldn't change one thing about this song. Swift's whispery high register sounds divine, and at this point in the tracklist, her rhythmic delivery in the chorus hits like a shot of espresso.

Right now, I'm wondering if it's possible for Swift to maintain this intrigue and momentum for another nine songs. There hasn't been a misstep to speak of, and I remain wholly beguiled. Can it last?

Larocca: The beginning of "Seven" sounds like Swift listened to Marina's "Orange Trees" on repeat before showing up to her songwriting session. Fortunately, "Orange Trees" is the only song I like on Marina's "Love + Fear" so I will gladly accept this inspiration.

Swift continues to impress with both her vocals and her sense of rhythm on "Seven." I also personally love space imagery so the line "Love you to the moon and to Saturn" is a standout line.

"August" will go down as one of the best songs in Swift's extensive repertoire.

Ahlgrim: I'm immediately catching hints of Phoebe Bridgers and girl in red in Swift's delivery. And I simply adore the idea that Swift has spent the last few months sitting at home, daydreaming about summertime humidity and listening to music by queer indie-pop girls. 

In an album full of songwriting expertise, this song has some of Swift's best lines yet: "August sipped away like a bottle of wine / 'Cause you were never mine" actually hurts me.

In my notes, there simply sits this valuable insight (yes, in all-caps): "WANTING WAS ENOUGH. FOR ME IT WAS ENOUGH TO LIVE FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL." This song has my favorite bridge on the album so far.

In terms of production, "August" is exquisite. It's lush and layered without feeling overwhelming at any point. It builds to the perfect level then recedes, like a wave. 

Also worth mentioning: It can now be considered a historical fact that any time Swift mentions a car or driving in one of her songs, it's a perfect song.

Larocca: While listening to "August," I texted Callie and said, "I can't wait to finish the album so I can relisten to 'August.'" It's an instant favorite. 

This is also the first track on the album that seems directly inspired by our current state. Not because she's expressing fear or singing about being bored at home, but because she so easily slips into a reflection of a relationship that ended years ago with a newfound wave of wistful nostalgia. 

When quarantine started, it seemed like a million lifestyle articles came out explaining why everyone suddenly felt compelled to text their exes and why we're so invested in looking back instead of forward right now. 

"August" validates those feelings with zero judgment, letting its listener know that yes, it's totally normal for you to be overanalyzing that quasi-relationship you were in back in college that never made it past graduation. Am I projecting? Maybe, but that's debatably what Swift's music is best utilized for.

I'm also going to be thinking about this song's bridge and outro for the rest of my life.

The National's influence can be felt on the stunning "This Is Me Trying."

Ahlgrim: "This Is Me Trying" quickly strikes a more sinister tone than its predecessors — still nostalgic and wistful, but carrying an edge, like a threatening secret.

Ironically, this one was co-written and co-produced by Jack Antonoff, not Aaron Dessner, though I can really hear The National's influence here. I'm getting strong wafts of songs like "Pink Rabbits" and "Dark Side of the Gym."

Based on Swift's own words, we can speculate that "This Is Me Trying" is a fictional tale, built around the image of "a 17-year-old standing on a porch, learning to apologize." And, as previously stated, I'm a big fan of Storyteller Taylor, so I'm into it.

The song's darker tone mingles really well with Swift's imagery; when you're a teenager, and you make a mistake, it can feel like the end of the world.

Larocca: "This Is Me Trying" is precisely what I imagined this album sounding like when I found out Swift collaborated with the National's Aaron Dessner and Bon Iver.

But I'm glad she was strategic about her use of echo and also finally paid attention to the tracklisting from a sonic standpoint. This haunting soundscape is reminiscent of 2014's "This Love" and comes in right when you need it after the yearning daydream of "August."  

I'd also like it to be on the record that the line "I got wasted like all my potential" ruined me and this song is a win for that lyric alone.

"Illicit Affairs" is a glowing example of what sets Swift apart from her peers as a songwriter.

Ahlgrim: The expert songwriting on "Illicit Affairs" reminds me of the as-yet unseated queen in Swift's discography: "All Too Well."

Swift is a master of wielding specific details like weapons: "What started in beautiful rooms / Ends with meetings in parking lots," she sings. "Leave the perfume on the shelf / That you picked out just for him." These are the sorts of images that set Swift apart, and they're especially strong when she punctuates their delivery with a little growl in her voice.

This song has real power. I have chills.

That power is magnified in the third verse, similar to how "All Too Well" builds to a crescendo: "Don't call me 'kid,' don't call me 'baby' / Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me."

Certainly, "Illicit Affairs" is more restrained than Swift's iconic arena rock ballad, but goddamn that last verse hits hard.

Larocca: The way that she says "him" in the second verse shook me out of my skin in the very best way. And "Don't call me 'kid,' don't call me 'baby' / Look at this idiotic fool that you made me" will go down as one of her best breakup lines of all time.  

It's been a minute since Swift delivered a painstakingly beautiful breakup ballad, and the fact that this album is littered with them is, simply, a gift.  

"Illicit Affairs" has growing power and will likely become one of those tracks that fans form a strong emotional attachment to over time.

"Invisible String" is Taylor Swift at her most Taylor Swift.

Ahlgrim: "Invisible String" is a feast of Easter eggs and callbacks.

"Teal was the color of your shirt" reminds me of the line about Joe Alwyn's blue eyes on "Delicate," and her reference to a dive bar is similarly familiar. "Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs" recalls the push-and-pull on "Exile."

"Bad was the blood of the song in the cab" is undoubtedly a reference to Swift's 2015 single "Bad Blood," while "One single thread of gold / Tied me to you" feels like a nod to Swift's description of love's "golden" hue on the "Lover" album closer "Daylight."

This song is sprightly and sparkly and certainly nice to listen to, but its real strength lies in these details.

Swift is weaving many different stories on this album, many connected by a sort of "Invisible String," tying different pieces of her life and your life and other lives together. It ends up feeling like a growing plant with far-reaching roots, or a sentient treasure map.

Larocca: I'd be lying if I said there weren't multiple points throughout this album where I worried that Swift and her boyfriend Joe Alwyn had broken up. 

Thankfully, "Invisible String" is a rosy, wide-eyed ode to love. The plucky guitar paired with Swift's soft vocals is a sound I want to live in, which is fitting since this track feels like coming home. 

Every small detail, from the nod to Alwyn's time spent working at a frozen yogurt shop in his youth, to the color imagery that paints every inflection of Swift's adoration (especially the single thread of gold) come together to lay the holy ground Swift's relationship walks on. 

Also, the image of Swift mailing Joe Jonas and Sophie Turner gifts for their expectant first child brings about an unbridled sense of joy.

"Mad Woman" is yet another highlight.

Ahlgrim: Every time I think I've heard the peak of this album's songwriting potential, Swift manages to surprise me. 

Case in point: "Do you see my face in the neighbor's lawn? / Does she smile? / Or does she mouth, 'F--- you forever?'" Whoa.

And another, for good measure: "It's obvious that wanting me dead / Has really brought you two together." I texted Courteney, "Did she really just say that??"

This song is sublime on its own, but the way it ties back into the perception of female freedom and "madness" on "The Last Great American Dynasty" makes it even better. "Mad Woman" is definitely a personal favorite so far on this album, if not in Swift's entire catalog.

Larocca: "Mad Woman" will forever hold the honor of being the first song in which Swift says "f---" and for that, we should all be thankful. 

I was also so wrapped up in the storytelling of this album, that it took a minute for this to even register that this is likely about the Scooter Braun and Scott Borchetta / Kanye West and Kim Kardashian West ordeals of Swift's past. These callouts used to be so obvious, that I greatly appreciate the subtlety and restraint here. 

It almost feels like these feuds were a lifetime ago, but this track does an excellent job at showcasing how anger and pain can leave an indelible mark on you. Swift went mad years ago, and that's just an accepted part of her narrative now. 

But for the first time, her rage sounds like freedom.

"Epiphany" doesn't stand out.

Ahlgrim: There are some really interesting vocal moments on "Epiphany," but so far, this is the only song I haven't felt captivated by. It's a bit snoozy, and a bit too long.

This song clearly references war, the loss of a loved one, and the coronavirus pandemic, which makes it lyrically intriguing at best — but distressing at worst. I don't mind letting the overall effect waft over me, but this won't be a song I revisit outside the context of the album.

Larocca: "Epiphany" is the only track on "Folklore" that didn't immediately grab me. It's essentially a war drama in song format, so some people might like it, but I truly couldn't care less about war movies or war songs! So it's not my favorite, but it makes for pretty background music. 

"Epiphany" does have another benefit though: Now, whenever some random dude erroneously claims Swift "only writes songs about her exes," fans have a clear song in her discography that they can point to and be like, "That's not true. This one's about war." 

That's not to say Swift needed that — anyone who has been paying attention understands she's quite possibly the best songwriter of her generation.  

This just happens to be further proof of that fact.

"Betty" is a charming callback to Swift's country roots.

Ahlgrim: "Betty" is like the best, sauciest song from Swift's 2006 debut country album that no one got to hear. It has sonic and lyrical similarities to hits like "Our Song" and "Tim McGraw," plus some name-dropping stuff like 2008's "Hey Stephen," plus a little harmonica thrown in for good measure! I love that for us.

"Betty" also appears to complete a three-song story, recalling details from "Cardigan" and "August" to close the loop on Betty and James, a couple in high school with some infidelity issues.

Looking back, it feels like "Cardigan" was told from Betty's perspective, while "August" was told from the perspective of a sort of "other woman" character. Now, we get James' side of the story. This is high art, folks! This is peak Storytelling Taylor!

"Betty" is also, like, very gay? I know it's easy to assume that James is a male character, but Swift herself was named after James Taylor, so she could be referring to herself. The song also references someone named Inez; James and Inez are the names of Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively's daughters.

Plus, in retrospect, the idea of whispering "Are you sure? Never have I ever before" during a summer fling seems pretty gay to me.

I'm not saying the story of Betty and James would be better if it was written about sapphic lovers, but I'm not not saying that.

Larocca: This one is gay, and if you try to tell me otherwise, I will simply ignore you. 

But Courteney, it's from the perspective of a guy named James. James and the other character, Inez, share the same names as Reynolds and Lively's kids (will leave it up to you to decide if that means their third daughter's name is Betty). James is their daughter. Get out of here with your antiquated ideas about which names connotate which genders. 

To me, the James named in this song is a woman and a lesbian and this song is for the gays. I will not be saying anything else or accepting any feedback on this opinion, thank you.

"Peace" is honest and raw.

Ahlgrim: This song's intro sounds like LCD Soundsystem had a baby with "The Archer." The gentle guitar riff is also lovely.

With Dessner's echoey production, Swift's voice sounds like a warm little fire in a cave — fitting, since she sings in the chorus, "I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm."

OK damn, I'm getting really emotional. This songwriting is beautiful and haunting. "Peace" perfectly captures the ambient dread of feeling your partner slip away, of wondering whether love can be enough. 

Larocca: If you're a "Call It What You Want" stan, you're going to love its mature older sister "Peace." 

I will hereby forever be thinking about the parallels between "But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm" with "He built a fire just to keep me warm" and between "Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother" with "Trust him like a brother."

Also, "Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?" has the same emotional impact as when Swift changes the lyric in "The Archer" to "I see right through me" and that's meant as the highest form of compliment. 

Swift's vocals are so crisp, that guitar riff is so stunning, and these lyrics are so gut-wrenchingly vulnerable. A perfect song, through and through.

"Hoax" is unlike any other album closer in Swift's catalog.

Ahlgrim: I don't know if Swift is going through a traumatic breakup, but if she isn't, the woman is one convincing creative writer.

The National makes some of my favorite music to cry to, so when I heard Aaron Dessner had co-written and produced much of this album, I knew I was in for some glossy cheeks. Until now, I think I've felt too captivated by Swift's artistry to really let myself get there.

But finally, "Hoax" is making me cry.

This is heart-wrenching stuff for anyone, but for a fan and student of Swift's work, this is like reading a friend's diary entry.

"Don't want no other shade of blue, but you" must be a reference to "Delicate," in which Swift sings: "Dark jeans and your Nikes, look at you / Oh damn, never seen that color blue." Later, she croons, "You know I left a part of me back in New York," perhaps regretting the move to London that she detailed throughout "Lover." 

"You knew it still hurts underneath my scars / From when they pulled me apart," recalling the public shaming she endured and demons she exorcised on "Reputation." "But what you did was just as dark." Like I said before: Whoa.

Personally, I love having a good cry set to moody music, so I appreciate Swift's soul-bearing. "Hoax" is one gut-punch of an album closer.

Larocca: Swift has a habit of ending her albums on an uplifting, hopeful note and I always eat it up. But if "Folklore" hadn't made it clear by now that it should be consumed differently than any of her previous works, "Hoax" brings that message home.  

Instead of reveling in all the ways that love has made her stronger, happier, or more whole, "Hoax" deconstructs everything Swift has learned about love and leaves a bleaker picture about how maybe even the best of relationships hurt. 

But at its most tragic, this love still isn't something Swift will ever let go of: "Don't want no other shade of blue but you / No other sadness in the world would do."  

Finishing a Taylor Swift album has never been so devastating.

Final Grade: 9.7/10

#taylor swift #folklore #review

[lemonbarnes]

Burnout

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

Summary: As the first successful test subject, she’s learned how to live without being burned. Years later, her savior-turned-psycho is dead, yet someone has gotten a hold of the formula in an attempt to recreate the virus. She takes on the role of a self-imposed vigilante, but soon ends up working alongside the Avengers, and a certain hard headed brunette with luscious locks and a gleaming arm.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: arson, violence (that’s all i can think of, but if there’s anything else please let me know!)

Author’s Note: This is the first part of a series that I: 1) have not finished, 2) debated posting, and 3) am very anxious about posting. It’s coming together very slowly, but I wanted to post the first part and see if anyone is intrigued. Feedback is always welcome. Likes and reblogs are always very much appreciated!

Deep in the snow-covered forest of Norway is where Bucky finds himself, trudging through the impacted white powder with Steve and Sam. It’s only the beginning of November, and Bucky is sure he’s experienced colder, but the chill nips at his flesh nonetheless; settles in underneath his thick coat sleeves and pulls goosebumps to the surface. Perhaps it wasn’t just the cold; it was oddly quiet in this part of the forest. It should be teeming with wildlife, but Bucky has yet to hear anything other than the crunch of snow and their short breaths. The silence is deafening, but he welcomes it. Until…

“What exactly are we doing again?” Sam gripes, his breath creating his own personal cloud before dissipating into the chilly air. Bucky surveys the area, but only produces the same results he came up with five minutes ago – nothing but their presence and the trees that surround them from every angle. Steve doesn’t glance at Sam as he continues walking, also taking note of the lack of animals in the vicinity.

“We’re here to extract the girl and bring her back to the compound. Tony said the last time he saw someone with… talents like hers was when Pepper was taken by AIM. Thinks she might know something about that lab blowing up a couple weeks ago, before we got there.” It’s Bucky’s turn to huff. Why did they have to walk through the forest while the rest of the team huddled up on the warm quinjet miles away? Was it really necessary to trek the 134 miles into the woods to reach the cabin? Why was Tony so sure that this was where you settled down? His head snaps up and he sticks his hand out, simultaneously freezing in place while sticking a finger up to tell Steve and Sam to be quiet. “Do you hear that?” He whispers, so low that he’s not even sure Steve hears him at first.

The chorus of a soft song plays behind a softly crackling fire. A feminine voice reaches Bucky and Steve’s ears, quietly humming along to the tune. Either this chick wanted to be found or is an idiot, Bucky snorts to himself before quickly focusing his attention back on his teammates.

Steve motions for the two to move in closer. “Sam, get Redwing up. Get us an idea of what and who we’re dealing with. Just because we only hear one person right now doesn’t mean there aren’t more people in the cabin,” he takes a moment as the inconspicuous drone zips through the air.

Bucky can only describe the look on Sam’s face as perplexed at best. “What’s wrong, bird brain?” A glare is briefly sent his way by none other than Sam, before he returns to his previous state of confusion. “There’s only one human heat signature, but the temp it’s reading at isn’t possible. There’s no way,” his brow furrows. Steve and Bucky exchange an equally confused glance.

“What do you mean, Sam? What’s it reading at?” A moment of silence passes before Sam looks up from the mini monitor adorning his arm. “152 degrees, Cap,” Sam flashes his wrist at the super soldiers before lowering his arm. “Well, I guess Tony wasn’t far off, was he? A literal human inferno,” he mumbles under his breath as Redwing zooms back to its owner. Bucky only dignifies his statement with a concealed eye roll. “What’s the plan?” 

“Alright, what do we know?” Tony paces at the front of the conference room, suit discarded for his spare set of clothes. One hand sits in the pocket of his track pants, while the other scratches his chin. Everyone else sits at the table, soot drenched suits still clinging to their bodies. “Killian’s dead. Hansen is dead. Extremis is extremely complex, but that doesn’t negate reason to believe that others have figured the virus out and are trying to recreate it,” Tony mumbles to himself, before stopping and placing his hands on the table firmly. “That facility blew up for a reason, whether good or bad is up to us to figure out.” 

Everyone’s brow furrows at the mention of Extremis. “Extremis? I thought you took down AIM,” Natasha pipes up, eyes narrowing in disbelief. 

A heavy sigh leaves Tony’s mouth before he sits and runs his hands down his face. “Yeah, I thought so too. Wannabes, maybe trying to replicate the virus. I don’t know. They were close, though. I saw it in one of the labs before it blew up.” 

“I’m sorry, but can someone fill the rest of us in?” Sam looks exasperated. “What the hell is Extremis?” 

Extremis, he learns, is its own super soldier-like serum. “It’s a virus that rewrites DNA to manipulate the part of the brain that is in charge of reparations and stimulate growth at inhuman speeds. I’m talking ‘cut off an arm and literally watch it grow back’ fast,” Bruce now stands at the front of the table, filling everyone else in. “AIM would mainly recruit veterans who had lost limbs or had severe psychological trauma and inject them with the virus. However, Extremis is very unstable, and most if not all of the people who were infected with it blew themselves up and died. Of course, with the exception of Tony and Pepper. Tony found a way to stabilize it enough that Pep doesn’t have any side effects of it,” Bruce finishes before glancing Tony’s way.

It’s Wanda’s turn to ask, “So… We think that someone is trying to emulate Extremis? If they know it’s so unstable, then why bother?” Tony bites the frame of his glasses before putting them back on and sitting back in his chair, fingers now scratching at his greying beard. “Human bombs. Life-sized, 3000 degree, exploding, unstable bombs that disintegrate anything within a 12.5 yard radius of them and damn near destroy anything else beyond that radius. They’re not trying to create super soldiers, they’re trying to blow things up.

“Up until now, we figured there weren’t any survivors of AIM’s experiment, but now? Now, I’m not so sure. We can assume that either Hydra got a hold of the formula or that someone is trying to dig AIM up from its grave and bring it back to life. What did concern me was this,” Tony brings up a hologram image of a woman running from the lab mid-explosion, skin and eyes tinged a fiery orange. “Whoever it is has the virus. Realistically there’s no way we can bring her in. She’ll melt through any form of handcuffs we try, burn through any kind of straight jacket we try. Hell, she’d probably be able to burn through the floor of the quinjet if she wanted to.”

Bruce lights up as he sits straighter. “Not necessarily. We could find someone to make us equipment out of tungsten. She would explode before she melted them off. It’s a little brittle, but nothing we can’t work with. And we could try out that sedation serum we’ve been working on. Load it into some small vials that Clint could shoot.”

Steve leans forward against the table, shield now at his side. Natasha shakes her head before speaking, exhaustion heavy in her voice. “Say we do bring her in. Then what? Recruit her? Lock her up for the rest of her life? We have to be realistic about the consequences of this, Tony. If she’s really as dangerous as you say she is, then we need to proceed with extreme caution.” Steve’s furrowed brow matches that of Bucky’s and Sam’s, who have both been virtually silent the whole meeting, save for Sam’s question.

“Why don’t we all go take a hot shower and clean up and reconvene in the morning? We’re all exhausted. Dirty. Let’s worry about this tomorrow,” Steve mutters before standing up with his shield in his hand and stalking out of the room, everyone else soon following suit.

The crackling fire was the only noise permeating the air, save for the quiet murmur of the radio and occasional hums that slipped from your lips. “I want to swim away, but don’t know how. Sometimes it feels just like I’m falling in the ocean,” your quiet voice rang, travelling through the empty woods while the large log you leaned against dug into your skin. Hazy shades of orange paint strokes blended together to paint the sky as the sun patiently rose from behind the trees. It was beautiful, something you didn’t think you could ever get used to experiencing.

You were lonely after the destruction of AIM. Not that you weren't grateful to be free, but sometimes you wished you could just be around someone, even if that someone wanted to destroy and conquer the world, and consequently, ruin your life. Does that make me a bad person? You shake your head gently, a sad smile slowly covering your face as you shoot a glance back at the cabin you’d been hiding in for the last three months. 

The cabin, when you first found it, sat deep in the woods, untouched for what you could only guess had been decades. Layers of thick dust and spiderwebs decorated corners and furniture alike. It’ll have to do for now, you had thought to yourself. Over the course of the next couple of months, though, you grew to adore the little cabin and all its quirks. The creak of the fourth stair, the slight slant of the kitchen counter that causes the fruit to roll, even the stupid, (newly) broken singing sea bass that hung on the wall of the small living room (there may be a bullet hole or two through it and the wall behind it, but it’s not like you asked it to turn on while you were making lunch and scare the living daylights out of you).

An almost nonexistent mechanical hum pulled you from your thoughts as you glanced up. A frown settles on your face as you stood slowly, watching a drone hover over the cabin before racing back in the direction it came from. Quickly, you leapt over the log and sprinted stealthily into the house, shutting the doors and locking it. Whoever owned it knew you were there, if not from the drone footage, but from the steady fire burning outside.

You paced before opening the bottom cabinet next to the oven and pulling out a small handgun and a couple throwing knives, checking that the gun was loaded. Stairs were climbed two at a time in order to reach the small linen closet, where you pulled out a little jewelry box hidden behind thick blankets and emptied the contents in your palm, before sticking the small rectangular item into the side of your boot and securing it (pant pockets are too obvious, duh). 

Stepping into the master bedroom, you dared a peak out of the window that looked over the fire you were previously enjoying. Three figures stood at the perimeter of the property, poorly hidden by a few trees from Y/N’s angle. Maybe they’re just hikers. You’ve seen plenty of them, yeah? Just passing through, is what you tried to tell yourself but a second glance out the window quickly shut those thoughts down as you noted that none of the men were hidden amongst the trees anymore. Instead, they were stalking toward the house, but traveling in different directions almost as if to surround you. All clad in some form of tactical gear, one holding a round shield, one in all black with a gleaming left arm, and the last with what looked like a jetpack on his back.

A silent string of curses left your lips as you stalked down the mini hallway and peaked over the banister. You crouched and listened, calming your heartbeat. You would die before ever going back to working for AIM. A knock to the front door bounced off the walls.

“Hello? We’re not here to hurt you. We just think you might’ve been in the wrong place at the wrong time and want to ask you a few questions.” Although muffled by the door, Y/N can hear the demand clear as day. Wrong place, wrong time my ass. 

“Steve, this isn’t an interrogation. We want her to come back willingly. You’re gonna scare her off,” Someone pipes up from the side of the house. A furrowed brow replaces the sour look on your face. What the hell? You also hear a “fuck it,” before the back door lock is picked and quietly swung open. “You were supposed to wait for my go-ahead, Buck,” a different voice mumbles, heavy steps causing the floor downstairs to groan. 

Waddling over to the bedroom quietly while crouched proves to be a little more difficult than you anticipated, but you do it in record time and shuts the door quietly. A simple thwack sounds as you unlatch the window and open it, peering down at the ground. You’d survive the jump, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt any less. You land with a soft thud and pray that the three burly men in the cabin don’t hear the sound. Pressing glowing hands to the side of the house, they, along with you eyes, begin to emit a warmth that spreads from your palms to your fingertips and seconds later the wood under ignites as little flames lick the spots. You take your opportunity to flee into the woods but don't get very far before a giant metal frisbee-like object lodges itself into the tree next to your head. Your feet stumble, but you quickly regain balance before pushing yourself from a jog to a full on sprint. What you didn’t expect was to be tackled from the side.

Rolling to a stop, you’re covered by a hefty build sporting a pair of metal wings. “Let me go!” you screams, before grabbing the arm of your attacker and heating up your skin, consequently burning whoever had you pinned. The groan he let out was enough for you to catch him off guard again, bringing a knee up between his legs harshly and pushing him off before scrambling to break into another sprint.

A hand wrapped around your ankle proved to stop you in your tracks, literally. Dragging you down, you kick your other foot in hopes of hitting something while frantically searching yourself for your gun. All you come up with is a knife, but it’ll have to do, you think. Sitting up and shoving the knife in between the plates of the wings, Y/N twists it roughly as it disables the pack on the man’s back before stomping your free foot into his shoulder. A revolting pop sounds and this time you don’t waste a second in finding your footing, but find yourself stunted from another chance at running when the sight of two brawny men stand in front of you. Your whole body glows ominously, frustration kicking in.

“We’re not here to hurt you. Please,” the one with the shield steps forward tentatively. “My name is Steve, Steve Rogers.” You go to take a step back but find the menacing man who tackled you behind you.

Tears build in your eyes, but evaporate from your internal heat before they can reach your cheeks. “I know who you are,” you snarl, the glow growing brighter as time ticked by. A mechanical hum fills your ears again, but heavier than the drone you saw earlier. A quick glance toward the empty sky leaves you bemused, though.

“Cap, stand down. her internal temp is rising. She’ll explode herself before she lets us take her in,” Tony’s voice rings in their ears, but Bucky surprises himself by taking a step forward. “Buck--” Steve starts, but doesn’t finish as he watches Bucky drop his weapons on the ground. 

“Let us help you. We aren’t here to hurt you. We need your help,” he takes another small step forward, noticing the flicker in you glow. “Let me help you. I know what it’s like to be cornered. To be used for other’s personal gains. To be so close to the edge of self destruction that there don’t seem to be any other options,” another step, “but you don’t have to go down that path. Help us help you.” All the while, you glow slowly diminishes to a soft orange.

Eyes blink wildly, glancing between the three of the men. “You don’t know me. You don’t know shit,” you breath trembles, before you steels you gaze and stiffens you posture. “I’m not some science experiment you guys get to play with!” you cry out, flinging two knives. One hits Bucky square in the left shoulder, while the other hits Steve in the abdomen. You go to take off, hearing a wheeze and a grunt of, “back up, we need back up” followed by “Barton, now!” and heavy footsteps falling behind you. 

Before you get very far, a shooting pain blossoms from your shoulder before a sudden wave of fatigue runs through your body, slowing your steps until you can barely walk. The trees in front of your face double and the hand you stretch out to lean against a tree misses, leaving you lying in a pile of pine needles and dirt before everything went black.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #Steve Rogers #tony stark #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #sam wilson #clint barton #Avengers #Winter Soldier #captain america #the falcon #Iron Man #hawkeye #Black Widow #hulk #wanda maximoff #bucky barnes fanfiction

[themattgirl]

First Time Solo

This is the first one... give me feedback, please!

Warnings: a bit fluffy I guess

Word count: 1,611

Enjoy!!!🦋

Today was the day of Harry’s first concert as a solo artist. His girlfriend, Y/N wasn’t allowed to go with him and be there through the whole process to support him and help him to be less nervous. Management said, “She would only distract him and ruin it” or “It wouldn’t be a great idea to show Harry’s girlfriend off because of his young female fans.”

But they didn’t understand it, still don’t, because their relationship is not a secret anymore. They kept it to themselves at the beginning, yes. But now they walk around the city holding hands, kissing if they want to, not caring about cameras catching them.

They didn’t manage to talk the bosses into letting her at least watch him on the little TV in his dressing room, though. But Y/N reassured Harry that she’d be waiting and praying for him in their hotel room and that’s exactly what she does. Fortunately, one of the stylists is a very close friend of her and proposed to FaceTime Y/N during the show so she can see the performance, regardless of what the others allowed or didn’t.

“Don’t hang up yet, Harry must be here in a second!” the stylist tells her after they watched him go off of the stage. How could she ever say no to seeing Harry?

Y/N sits up on the bed, she has only now realised how uncomfortable the position she was in has been. Harry just blew her mind and made her forget everything else. He always does, but this time was different. This time he was alone. It was just the soothing sound of his voice going through the headphones into her ears and making its way straight to her heart, transferring her into a state of ecstasy she has never felt before except for when he kissed her for the very first time.

“Heyyy, superstar!” Y/N hears the stylist greeting someone. She stretches her neck in order to see if it’s the person she thinks it is, but of course she sees nothing. It’s not some sort of 3D FaceTime call, after all. Though, she swears she heard her boyfriend’s voice somewhere in the background, very distinct but it was there.

Y/N wonders why her friend asked her to stay on the phone if she was going to hold the camera so that all she sees are legs and the floor, anyway. But then the phone is being lifted up and Harry’s sweaty face appears. “Babe, I need you here!”

A big smile immediately takes over the place of the previous frown on her face when her eyes meet his through the display. She notices how sparkly they are, just like always when he is on a high.

“You definitely didn’t need me, you were amazing!” she tells him what she knows he needs to hear right now. She knows how insecure he always feels after a show. His self-criticism is always on the highest level, so high that he sometimes ends up hating everything about the performance - or whatever he was doing - and even stopped talking for a while because he was so mad at himself. Ever since they started dating and Y/N noticed this side of him, she always tries to prevent him from thinking too badly about himself, and she became pretty good at it with time.

“Thank you, lovie! But I really want to be with you right now. I wanna be in your arms and I wanna hear your soft voice telling me that I didn’t mess up! I miss you, Y/N!” Harry’s words in combination with his big doe-eyes make her heart melt right away. It’s only been a few hours since they last saw each other but she knows exactly what he means, she feels it too.

“You better hurry up to me then, before I fall asleep!”

Of course she will not fall asleep, she’s not even tired. But maybe this way he would quicken it up a little more, who knows?

“No, babe, don’t! Wait f’me, I’m on my way!” Not giving her the chance to speak he has already disappeared and Y/N is left with an image that moves way too fast for human eyes before the face of the owner of this phone takes over the display.

“You know, you two are a really cute couple,” she claims and makes Y/N blush a little.

“Thank you!”

After Y/N thanks her friend again for doing what she did for her they end the phone call.

***

Only twenty minutes later, Y/N hears the door of the hotel room being opened so she gets up and rushes to her boyfriend to wrap her arms around him and pull him as close to her body as possible. Harry places his hands on her bum so he can lift her up. She wraps her legs around his waist and he walks them to the bedroom. Only when she pulls away from him she notices that he is still wearing his outfit from the show.

“You haven’t changed yet?”

Harry looks down on himself, almost like he has forgotten it. “Was in a rush, y’know.”

Y/N giggles to herself and slides his black, glittery jacket down his arms to put it on the bed. “Go take a shower, baby! Then we can cuddle and talk, yeah?” she suggests and he just nods before he gives her a kiss and makes his way to the bathroom.

Usually, she’d go with him and rub the shower gel on his body but she’s already had her shower so all she can do now is taking out fresh underwear for him and wait for him to finish and come back. It doesn’t take as long as she thought it would, fortunately.

Soon enough, they are snuggled up in bed. Harry has his arms wrapped around her waist, his head is resting on her tummy while she massages his scalp.

“I’m really proud of you, my love! You did a fantastic job!” Y/N tells him and makes him smile.

“You liked it?” There’s a tone of uncertainty hiding in the back of his voice.

“I loved it, Harry! Everyone did, I’m sure. You took my breath away through the display, how about all the people who were there? I wonder if they’re still alive. You’ve always been great on stage, but this one was incredible. You were so entertaining, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. You sounded... ugh, I don’t even know how to describe it. And on top of that, you even looked so hot. Like, you had no business looking that handsome making me jealous of all the women around you. This was just your first show, what’s about to come is gonna be huge! I can’t believe my boyfriend did that!” she showers him in compliments.

Harry’s cheeks are bright red by now, “Stop it!”

“I’m just telling the truth. Damn, you were brilliant, breathtaking!”

“Thanks but stop, please!”

Even though Harry is pretty much a narcissist sometimes, this situation makes him blush like never before. Y/N just makes him feel so good about himself. He knows exactly she has much more to say because she always pays attention to everything, everything. She has her eyes on every detail, that’s how his girl is. But he’s heard enough. He’s afraid he’ll melt if she keeps going.

“I’m not stopping until you say it yourself. Say you won Switzerland’s heart and the rest of the world is yet to follow! You-“

To keep her from talking any more he presses his lips on hers. “Okay, just stop!” he says in between kisses.

“Say it!” she mumbles into the kiss.

“I was good,” he says before he locks their lips again. But Y/N is not having it. She cups his face to separate their faces and glare at him, not needing to say a word for him to understand.

“Okay, I was very good!”

“You were amazing!” she corrects him and connects her lips with his again.

“I love you so much, Y/N! You won’t believe it but I literally felt that your presence was missing the whole time. I was so nervous, I needed my anchor but you weren’t there,” he sounds both, sad and angry at the same time.

Harry is now lying on his side, propping himself up with an elbow so he can look down at her.

“These fuckers didn’t let you be with me,” he adds to make sure she doesn’t think it’s her fault because he knows she’d find a way to blame herself.

“We’ll talk to them again. I promise, we will find a way! And even if it takes a few tries and you have to do it without me again, just know that I’m always with you, at heart! I love you, H!” she reassures him while he strokes her hair.

“I love you more!”

“Speaking of emotions, I saw you tearing up a bit during Sign Of The Times,” she teases him playfully.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout,” he denies, his thicker accent giving away that he’s lying.

“Don’t act dumb, Bambi! It’s okay to cry, it’s an emotional song!”

“Yeh, yeh, whatever!”

“I saw something else too.” She pokes his lower stomach.

“And what’s that, lovie?” he wants to know.

“I saw the bulge in your trousers!” She let’s her hand wander even lower.

Harry’s eyes widen at first but not much later the corner of his lips curves up, his dimple makes an appearance. “Oh, did ya?”

“Mhm,” she smirks.

#harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #fluff prompts #harry styles #fluff writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles filth #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader

[milkygcf]

Hi i'd luv 2 req. A bully jungkook x reader e2l fic pls 🥺 5k~ tysm!

//credits go to @jjoon for the gif!//

Pairing | jjk x reader

Genre | e2l, bully!jungkook, college au

Warnings | mild cursing

Summary | ❝ Hi i'd luv 2 req. A bully jungkook x reader e2l fic pls 🥺 5k~ tysm!❞

Word Count | 5.4k

Author’s Note | hi anon! i’m sorry this took so long to write ... this really inspired me to write a full fic! i had to cramp in as much as i could and hopefully it goes to your liking ❤ thank you for your request!  ________________________________________________________________

When you hoped for the best college experience, you didn’t mean to bring Jeon Jeongguk along with you. As far as you knew, he had other plans for a different school - so why did you end up spending a year and a half of college facing the worst each day?

It started when you accidentally spilt his juice all over his study notes when a friend of yours jokingly pushed you. From that very day on, he’s been firing you up almost every day of seeing you within his sight. Making you seethe when he steps into your vision. Despite apologizing and offering to rewrite his notes for him, he still made it his mission to make college incredibly agonizing for you.

For example, all the times he’s made you feel like pure, utter shit. 

Unlike what his looks demonstrated, Jeon Jeongguk was an absolute bully. You have all the evidence to back this up. 

And that so happens to be at this very second as he scribbles all over your essays, vandalizing them with random characters from the games he spends all night playing. “Stop that-!” You cry out, watching your clean work melt into a behemoth of a mess before you. 

“Stop? Your notebook’s boring - I’m just adding more life to it!”

The look on his face symbolizes the devil incarnate himself. Jeongguk was devilishly handsome, except for the fact that he was the bane of your existence. 

Handsome?

God forbid he ever finds out you think of him like that.

“No,” You let out an exasperated huff, “You’re just earning me a bad reputation! Can’t you just fuck off?” Frankly, you’re just wasting precious time and energy, because no matter how many times you urge him to piss off, he wouldn’t budge. He’d keep on being a complete brat.

Nothing was on your side when it came to Jeongguk - not even the gods themselves.

Truly, you deem yourself as the most patient person to ever walk this earth. You say this out of the experience. But when Jeongguk steps into the picture? You want to give him a good kick to the balls because he was simply so aggravating.  

Your friends know well of this yet they look at the situation in another light. A light which leaves you effectively deceived. 

As you stomp towards your local buddies, you could hear the faint “Ah, here we go again,” leaving Seokjin’s lips as they all brace themselves for your routined outburst. It’d be surprising if you didn’t do this on the daily.

“I can’t believe him!” Your voice booms, agonized and worn out as you tumble onto an empty seat, letting yourself sink into the warmth of your arms. Attention attracts itself to you, but you couldn’t bother. Humiliation has nothing on the daily hardships you face - literally - every day. 

“What did he do this time?” Jimin and Seokjin mutter in unison, watching you practically deflate in front of them. Honestly, what didn’t he do? Nowadays, whenever he even breaths your way, you deem it a huge inconvenience. Unfortunate. 

How exactly is this unfortunate? You happened to be best friends with someone who’s very fond of your arch-nemesis, and that is Park Jimin. It’s either because he’s a libra or the heathen hypnotized him into blooming a friendship together. Countless times the beam of smiles tried his best to convince you that Jeon was an angel at heart.

You beg to differ. 

With a distraught face, you look up at both of them. “He scribbled all over my essay - that little twerp is going to ruin me.” Words of truth. It’s not that deep - it isn’t. You offered to rewrite his notes, he was the one who decided to be all salty about the matter. Salty enough to make your life a living hell, that is. 

“Wouldn’t you consider the fact that maybe his intentions aren’t to just be a bitch to you?” Jimin chirps in, wincing.

“You’re kidding. How many times do we have to go through this?”

“As many times as we need to,” Seokjin intervenes, letting out a fatigued sigh. To put it simply, he has way too many other things to be focused on right now besides your incessant whining. He loves you dearly, but having to listen to you ramble on and on about your rivalry with Jeon drains him to the last drop. “Haven’t you thought about clearing things with him? Perhaps it’s all a misunderstanding.”

“Over my dead body! He’s the one who started it, I already did my part of the job.”

If there was one word to describe you, it would be dense. This was on him, even if it bothered you to ends. Seokjin and Jimin knew this very well - they also knew that they were wasting their breaths with you, but it was worth a shot either way. 

And so it was left at that. 

As winter break approaches, you find yourself growing ecstatic as each day passes. Once you finally catch yourself a break, you’d be able to scatter away from the plight that is Jeon Jeongguk. Likewise, the man himself. You’re pretty sure he finds your mere presence a disgrace by the way there’s always a scowl tugging at his lips, or perhaps the devilish tricks he pulls on you until you can no longer take it and scurry off.

Jimin, much to his pleasure, compelled you into signing up to help with the school dance alongside him. Eventually, you caved in, albeit protesting that you’d rather use your free time binging whatever show Netflix recommended you. No one can bypass Jimin’s charms and the way his lips turn into a pout as he pleads to you. 

And, well, perhaps you did need to be more productive.

So in reality, your best bud was doing you a favour. 

How hard could it be anyway? All you had to do was decorate and help plan the catering, maybe throw in a few song suggestions. If possible, even cop yourself a date - you’d hate to weigh down Seokjin and Jimin just because you were looking sulky in a corner with your only friend being a cup of cranberry punch. 

“You’re not going to bail on me last second, are you?” The brunet queries, looking at you cautiously with his eyes twinkling. Despite his teasing and constant pulling to get you to do things with him, you know he’d never force you into something displeasing. 

You give him a look. “Gosh, what do you take me for? I promised you, didn’t I? You just have to make sure you keep your side of the deal.” A grin blooms onto his features. Right - he promised you a meal at your favourite diner for accompanying him. That way, he knew you’d accept for sure. 

The hall is crowded with students, bustling with chatter as they discuss their excitement for the dance. You have to admit, it was an event to look forward to. To catch your breath and enjoy a moment of peace in a place that you can call a second home. And to top it off, it’s with the people you see every day who, just like you, are there to study for a future. 

Understandably, you have no idea who half of the student body was, but it still felt like family. 

Jimin instantly finds himself one of the coordinators and advises them about your presence whilst you fumble behind him rather nervously. “What exactly do we have to do?” You mumble to him, taking a good look around. The place seems way too dull when it’s not enriched with DIY banners and colourful lights adorning every nook and cranny of the room. 

“Our duty for today is decorating. The theme’s pretty sparkly this year.”

“Isn’t it always like that?”

A voice is quick to interrupt your conversation, making you practically dart around to see the source of it. And it’s no surprise when you come face to chest - curse his height - with the very being you’ve grown to dislike over the months. He was here, in the hall, helping. 

Just when you thought you’d be able to hide from Jeongguk, he proves you wrong. Like a predator hunting its prey. 

“Gguk!” Jimin exclaims mirthfully, wrapping an arm around your sworn enemy. You really can’t help but worry for him. Ah, it is what it is. “I didn’t think you’d be joining this year.” 

“You know I’d never miss an opportunity to help around. But,” he pauses, averting his gaze to you with a quirk of an eyebrow. “It’s a surprise you brought Y/N along.”

“I’m sorry?” You gasp rather too dramatically, earning the attention of those around you. Jimin bursts into laughter, shaking his head at your antics. This is betrayal at its finest - laughing at your misery, you might as well drop him this very second.

“Apology accepted.”

That fuels you even more. Your blood boils under the layers of your skin. God, couldn’t he get any less arrogant? “I can’t stand you,” you breathe out, scoffing. “Is there a rule that I can’t give a helping hand by any chance?”

Jimin watches all of this unfurl. If anything’s worth pure entertainment, it was the two of you. “Not if you run around with a stick up your ass,” Jeongguk replies with a measly roll of the eyes, “This won’t be any fun with you here.”

“Alright you two, cut it out.” 

In all honesty, you doubt how fun that'll be. With him around, no one knows about the perils he could throw at you to prove his disdain. Your life could be in danger as you speak. What if you were walking around and he stuck his foot out for you?

Jeongguk clicks his tongue. “See you around Park - you should hop over to the sound room later. We could use your help.” 

And that’s another encounter with Jeon Jeongguk for the day, much to your annoyance. You could see the way the brunet turns to look at you with a soft smile on his face, a small, reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Lighten up, it won’t be that bad.”

“My ass.”

“Y/N!” 

---

Truthfully speaking, it isn’t all that bad. You’ve grown to interact more with everyone else - surprisingly. Not only that, but you were given the blissful pleasure to befriend what seems to be God’s favourite specimen, Kim Taehyung.  

If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume he was God himself.

Amid all these students, there’s Taehyung who you secretly claim as the light of your life. You’d be surprised if someone didn’t know him or of his presence in the hall, he truly stuck out brighter than all the sparkling decor being hung around the walls and on stage.

“Y/N-! Catch!” 

If you weren’t quick enough, you would’ve been hit with a small pack of glitters straight to the head. Even worse, they could’ve opened and left you in a glittery mess. Laughter bubbles out of the man’s lips - music to your ears. You adore the way his locks bounce with each move he makes. 

“That was pretty hazardous - I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to hand them over to you more politely next time.”

“I caught them, didn’t I?” You smile, letting the item dangle lightly from the tips of your fingers. Taehyung continues to beam, his pearly whites put all on show. You’re pretty sure you’ve never seen anything as beautiful as the man before you. Oh, and not to mention his voice. That golden bundle of harmony. 

“Surprisingly,” Jeongguk butts in, snickering. And here it is again - like a comedic show, ready to make you the laughing stock. “Would’ve been hilarious to see you covered in pink glitters.”

“Ggukkie!”

Ggukie? If it wasn’t for the respect you hold for other people’s comfortableness, you would’ve bent over and hurled. It would’ve been a cute nickname if it wasn’t directed at the fiend. But it’s fine, you suppose - Taehyung has an endearing way of lacing nicknames.

He’s quick to ruffle the latter’s hair, making shy giggles tumble out of Jeongguk’s mouth. You can only stand and watch, squinting rather annoyingly at him. He was such a joy kill. 

“I need your help with the soundbar,” Jeongguk explains nicely. His tone is gentle and he uses his hands to explain whatever was wrong, much unlike how he interacts with you. It’s in these moments you wonder why he treats you so differently when it was a small inconvenience you’d pulled on him months ago. 

“No can do,” the elder tells him, scratching the back of his head. “I have to help Namjoon with the tickets. But I’m sure Y/N can help - didn’t you say you were good with tech?” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

In another life, in the same position you are in now, you would’ve declined and scurried off to avoid him. But, if you think about it, this could be the perfect opportunity to flaunt your knowledge and skill. If he gets to do it, then so can you. 

It’s only fair, no?

You quirk an eyebrow towards the duo. This was your time to shine. “I’m sure he won’t need my help,” you taunt, “Jeonggukie can do everything, can’t he?” 

Silence. He’s like a deer caught in headlights, with the way his eyes widen and his mouth becomes agape. You managed to pull a stunt on him, showing him victory and deeming yourself superior. Kim gives you a peculiar look before offering you a smile. “You’re right - Gguk’s incredibly talented.”

That wasn’t really what you were hoping for. You admit it hurt your pride a little, but there’s no way you were going to put it out on show. Jeongguk can kiss your ass. 

“Uh, whatever. Follow me, I can’t wrap my head around what’s wrong with it.”

You were quite ready to start calling him petty, but as you slowly take in his response, you’re left perplexed. 

Perhaps you’re taking it too far - this is only for a school dance after all. Although you can’t help but stand and stare at him for actually accepting your offer to help. “Hello? Are you going to just stand there? We have other things to do - hurry up.” Curse you Jeon Jeongguk.

“See you later Y/N!”

The chance of copping yourself a hot date to the dance, slowly streaming out of your grasp. 

As you bid your farewell to Taehyung, you let yourself be whisked away by a rather grumpy Jeongguk, who stomps his approach to the sound room. It’s quiet - save for the weight of his rather chunky shoes - and if you may say so yourself, awkward. But nevermind that, you were assigned something to fix. 

He takes you up a flight of stairs - much to your dismay, you weren’t fond of the exercise - and into a tiny, cramped room just on the opposite of the school’s stage. You could see everyone clearly from here - ants scurrying around to get their work done. 

Jeongguk shuffles around behind you - you could feel his build bumping into yours here and there. “Okay, do you know what to do?” 

“Huh?” 

“I said, do you know what to do? Or were you just talking out of your ass?”

God, you can’t stand him. “Can you stop being such a bitch for once? Yes, just give me a few minutes and it’ll be ready.” A huff follows your line of conversation as you squat down to handle the component. He should be grateful you’re sacrificing your sanity to be with him right now. “What exactly is the issue here?” 

There’s silence until your ears prick at the loud sigh that tumbles out of his lips. “Didn’t you hear what I told Tae? The sound keeps cutting.” You hum. 

Your fingers lace around its wires, untangling the unattractive mess they’re in and inspecting whatever could be the problem. Unlike you, Jeon stands as far away as possible, offering you all the space you could need. His eyes watch you carefully, dancing onto every move you make. It’s peaceful, the only sound reverberating through the room being your breaths and the light clinks of the soundbar wires. 

Your fingers start pulling each cable off one by one, setting them aside neatly and letting out a small sigh. Everything was in order, except for the crooked pins inside one of the cables that directly connects to the speaker. You turn to Jeongguk with a raised eyebrow.

“Did you plug these in? You bent the pins.” 

He purses his lips, his hand flying up to scratch the back of his neck. “Guess I was in a hurry - can you fix them?” As he speaks softly, almost shyly, you swear you could see a hint of pink tinting his cheeks.

That’s cute.

“Hand me your credit card.”

“My what?”

“Your credit card - hand it over.” His face displayed pure horror. It’s not like you were going to run off with it - he wanted the soundbar fixed, didn’t he? You extend an arm out towards him, an eyebrow quirked at his hesitation. 

“It’s fine,” an eye roll follows because he genuinely looks like he’s waiting for dinosaurs to resurrect. “I just need it to straighten the pins, yeah? Your card’s going to be back in your wallet before you know it.”

He’s looking at you with worry laced in his features until he’s stuffing his hands in those baggy pants of his and shuffling out his wallet. “You better give it back in one piece.” 

What did he think you were - a heathen? Did he not know just how valuable credit cards were in today’s life? “Whatever,” you huff, fingers diligently wrapping around the piece and instantly starting to work your magic.  

It takes you a few minutes of focus and caution, aligning the component back to its original shape. While you do so, Jeongguk observes cautiously. His eyes fawn over the way you stick your tongue out in concentration or the way you just engulf yourself in your own little world. Jeongguk thinks your hair colour compliments your skin.

You look pretty when you’re not throwing profanities at him. 

It’s the daily entertainment he looks forward to every day. Not a moment goes by that Jeongguk doesn’t think about how to make you boil with fury in a matter of five minutes. Yet despite the delight of it all, he figures it’s about time he gives you a break.  

Maybe a five-minute break - he misses the constant scowl etched onto your features whenever you catch sight of him.

"All done!" You beam, lips stretched wide as your hands perform the last trick. "Put a song on, bunny boy, see if it works."

Jeongguk stutters at the nickname. You, however, didn't realize it rolled down your tongue until it was too late. 

He brushes it off and starts to scrolls through what seemed to be a multitude of playlists on his phone. You eagerly await the melody to boom quietly through the soundbar. However, he seems to be hesitant on what to choose and frankly, he was taking too long.

So you swipe his phone out of his grasp, leaving him clutching his credit card, putting his songs on shuffle. You give yourself the pleasure of coursing through his music taste - it wasn’t that bad. Diverse, to put it simply. 

Kind of like yours. 

“You listen to them too?” There’s an enthusiastic tone to your voice, eyes gleaming over the discography of a group you’ve grown to admire ever so much. They were the good fortune in your life - what was keeping you moving forward. Listening to their music gave you a sense of bliss. 

Jeongguk peeks over your shoulder, his interest piqued as to why you’re so delighted over his music taste. “Hm?” He mumbles to himself, “You follow them?”

“Are you kidding,” you express matter-of-factly, “I don’t just listen to them! They are my heart and soul Jeon. I love them more than taco Tuesday.” 

The last comment sends him hollering, catching you off-guard. You’ve never, in your time spent around him, heard him laugh so heartily before. If you must admit, it sounds melodious. Like the singing of birds in the early morning.

“Taco Tuesday - god, you’re something.”

Heat trickles up your neck to the ends of your ears, leaving you red in front of him.

“Should I take that as a compliment?” A snicker follows. “Well, it’s open for interpretation. Did you go to their last showcase?” You notice the way interest bubbles in the tone of his voice and the way his eyes glimmer with a newfound shine that you can’t quite decipher.

“Hell yeah, I did! It has to be one of their best one yet - they’re hitting it big this time!” 

The room reverberates with joyous laughter, drowning out the low drum of the music playing in the background. It feels rather cumbersome, how one minute you’re at each other’s throats and the other your boisterous laughter mixes. 

Maybe Jeongguk isn’t that bad.   

However, it’s when the laughter dies down that the tension slowly rises. It isn’t thick - nor is it thin, but it’s there. It weighs on your shoulders and watches the inelegance crawl towards you. Jeongguk clears his throat and you find him rubbing the nape of his neck.

“Yeah, uh, I think you should be getting back down there.”

You shake your head heartily, your feet shuffling underneath you. “Could’ve sent a thank you my way you know.” The way it tumbles down your tongue makes it seem like you’re joking. His eyes wander onto you and there’s coral painting his skin again - he looks like a child. With the way his eyes go wide and he starts pursing his lips whenever he finds himself in situations as such. 

“Right - yeah. Thanks, Y/N.”

That’s where another part of your constant feud ends. 

Would you even call that interaction a feud? Technically, you weren’t exactly at each other’s throats this time, despite all you did was fix up the soundbar. It was rather nice. You think a smile on Jeongguk’s handsome features is ravishing - god forbid he ever finds out of the compliment.   

It’s childish. It’s like throwing buckets of water off a sinking ship - useless. For someone attending college, both of you lack the maturity for it. 

Okay, maybe he’s not the only one taking things out of proportion - you can be quite the bitch sometimes. 

New revelation - for the last term, you’ll just drop it. Just like that. Let it unravel however it wishes. 

Yet, it’s quite hilarious how all this took you was a heartfelt moment with the guy.

--- 

It takes you patience, teamwork and hours upon hours of choosing through various types of decorations and goods for the dance. Now that everything is ready - and just in time, if you may add - the event was to be held early in the evening.

Whilst everyone was simply ecstatic for the event, you were pissing yourself. Why exactly is a mystery - your nerves were slowly bursting one by one and you were growing anxious. You had no reason to. 

Seokjin is currently rambling about how elegant his suit was going to look. It makes you admire how he considers a minimal event as something grand - another quality you can’t help but adore about him. Seokjin always makes himself stand out in the best ways. 

Jimin sits by his side pecking at the loose threads of his jumper, eyeing someone which, according to his line of sight, was about a few meters behind you. At his silence, both you and Seokjin quirk an eyebrow.

“Goodness!” Seokjin squawks, sending a light slap to the youth’s shoulder. “All you have to do is ask him to go with you, you raging homosexual!” 

Ah. 

Jimin has had the fattest crush on one of the philosophy guys. He describes him to have the sexiest brain to ever walk the grounds of earth. Frankly, he wasn’t exactly wrong. Kim Namjoon walked the college halls with people behind him practically foaming at the mouth. He, however, didn’t exactly take notice of this. 

The youth’s gawking at the elder amongst you, giving him that specific look at me, now look at him look. “No way. I’m too fond of the pride harboured within me to let it be crushed by someone so unbelievably hot.” 

“Funny, considering you’re ranked one of the best looking to roam this goddamned building,” you comment, rolling your eyes. “Jimin, I bet you the moment you walk into his vision he will be swooning. He can’t say no to you.”

“You think so?”

“With a juicy ass like yours, no, he wouldn’t be able to resist.” 

You feel something shuffle beside you, which you brush off as Seokjin’s feet - it’s not the first time he’d stretch his legs out beside you, just to annoy you. It’s until Jimin’s doubling over with laughter at the sound of someone’s voice that you finally pay mind to. 

Jeongguk chuckles. “Really? I didn’t take you for an ass person, Y/N.” That’s exactly why your ever so lovely best friend - since high school, may you add - was tearing up. Seokjin tries his best to keep his laughter at bay, knowing well you’ll give them hell after this. 

You’re abashed wholly as red inherits your skin from neck to ears. Jeongguk’s very existence was made to shame you - catch you at the most vulnerable moments and have you burden them for as long as you breathe. 

“Where did you come from?”

“From the cafeteria. I came to ask you something.” 

After this presumptuous interaction, you are confident that he may have hit his head this morning. This was more than peculiar, and frankly, it left you perplexed as ever. “Okay, go ahead, shoot.” Interest piques and you notice the way he hesitates before shooting a quick look towards Jimin who grins ever so evilly. 

“Be my date for tonight.” 

That bastard. 

“What?”

“Hello? Can’t you hear? I told you to be my date for tonight.” He says it so straight-forwardly it almost has you toppling over your seat. His face harbours a look that you can’t quite fathom and it irks you. What was he plotting? 

“There’s definitely a catch to this.” Seokjin and Jimin observe quietly, the elder sending the youth a few questionable glares here and there. It seems as if Jimin was the one behind this all - which, if he was, wouldn’t leave you surprised at all. 

What a libra.

Jeongguk shakes his head - you grow soft at the way his locks bob as he does so. “I promise there’s no catch - I just want a date for the dance. That’s all.” It leaves you with a frown hanging on your lips. All he needed was someone to hang by his side.

“And from all the chicks around you ask me?”

There’s silence then - he doesn’t respond, only purses his lips and fiddles with his fingers. He avoids eye contact. You sigh. “Sure - yeah, sure, whatever. I’ll be your date, Jeon.”

“Score!” 

You watch as both Jimin and your new dance date high five before you. The pits of your stomach continue to bubble with anxiety and soon enough you might even think this might be a bet. 

Jeongguk went from provoking you to asking you to be his date.

Seokjin gives you a rather sceptical look, tapping at your hand lightly. “What was that supposed to be?” He asks you, gaze wandering about the two snickering to themselves. You peek at Jeongguk and he seems to be pretty content. You still can’t comprehend just what’s going on in his head, but you conclude that it’s no good. 

“I don’t know, but I hope he doesn’t pull any shit and ruin a good night.”

---

To say you’re beyond nervous is an understanding. 

The both of you agreed to meet at the school gates, and as you step out of the cab you conveniently managed to catch, the situation dawns on you greatly. What happened to being sworn enemies after an unintentional spill?

If you were to look back at the time you’ve spent planning the occasion, you’d say something changed. He doesn’t make your blood boil as much - he presents you that charming smile more often. Not to mention how soft and kind it’d become in contrast to the many devilish grins and disdainful scowls he’d sent your way before. 

You can’t tell if it’s progress or not. 

The building looks rather magical - students loiter around the main entrance with big grins decorating their faces. Their well-prepared looks shimmer under the dim lights radiating from inside the school. 

“Y/N!” Your body instantly freezes at the sound of his voice. You’ve grown used to it over time, but in this specific condition, it shakes you to the core. “Over here!”

Feet trepidatiously coursing over to him, you let your fingers fiddle with your fit. You look presentable to say the least - perhaps not as extravagant as the other people who’ve probably spent half their paycheck on something to wear. Decent, as you would put it. 

“You better not pull anything on me, Jeon,” 

“Why would I?”

Well, why would he? Makes you debate. The behemoth of worries and what-ifs subsides slowly but surely because Jeongguk sounds so sincere. Not to mention the way he’s looking at you right now - it makes you shrink, but in a positive way. He has the faintest of smiles plastered on his lips. 

You don’t know how to feel whatsoever. 

“Listen,” you tell him softly, looking at the ground as if it was the most interesting piece of art. “If… If this is all a joke or a dumb bet with Jimin, cut it out. You’re acting weird.” As a result, you can almost detect the frown drowning his smile as you speak. 

Jeongguk reaches out to hold your hands. If he hadn’t done that, you’re pretty sure you would’ve ruined your somewhat prized possession. His touch is warm - it sends electricity coursing through your veins and leaves you stunned. Your head’s quick to shoot up at him. 

“I promise that it’s nothing like that. Can’t I take the girl I’ve had this like, huge crush on to a dance?”

If pigs could fly they’d be more believable than this very moment. What was he saying? Is he even sure he’s talking to the right person?

“You’re kidding?” You say almost breathlessly. You’re pretty sure your eyes are wider than what’s physically possible, and your mouth’s hanging open. Nothing could convince you just how true this was. “Shut up - crush? You’ve been nagging me since I fucked your notes up. How could you possibly have a crush on someone you clearly dislike?” 

His facial expression becomes even more unfathomable. Jeongguk shakes his head gently, “I was just teasing! It’s a habit - you’re fun to mess with, much less be around. Was I that bad?” 

Oh? 

This was like entering a whole new universe. Was that a good way to even describe the whirlwind of emotions washing over you right now? Never had you even considered that, because why would Jeon Jeongguk, quite possibly one of the most alluring men to ever walk this earth, find entertainment in you? Much less harbour a liking. 

You punch his shoulder jokingly. 

“God - you bastard! For how long has this been going on?”

There’s a sheepish grin on his face - he’s rubbing the nape of his neck again, it’s endearing. “You remember that time you fixed the soundbar? Yeah, by that time, I was a goner - I think?” His words are all fumbling together. He was growing shy by the way red bloomed onto his cheeks. “Then… Then we kind of vibed during the whole planning thing. Jimin was kind of sceptical, so he uh, he confronted me about it.” 

Ah, so Jimin was part of all this. 

“Uh, I hoped this would’ve gone in a more, uh, romantic way? Maybe while we were dancing. I heard you put some pretty sappy songs in there.”

Seeing this new side of him hit you like that time Seokjin threw your school bag and earned you a nasty bruise on your nose. It’s fresh, better than the usual cocky talk he gives you.

Perhaps by time, it’ll grow on you. 

“When I say you’re really something, I never had in mind this side of you.” You sigh gently, letting a miniature of a smile wash over your lips. This is nice. It’s calming. “Now that I have clarification, you’re not so bad yourself, Jeon.” 

“And if you let me, I can continue to prove that on the dance floor.”

#btscreatorscorner #bts fanfiction #bts jungkook #bts seokjin #bts jimin #bts suga #bts jhope #bts rm #bts v #bts taehyung #bts jin #bts yoongi #bts hoseok #bts namjoon #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #kim taehyung #park jimin #min yoongi #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #bts jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

[hanawrites404]

No I In Threesome

Game : The Arcana

Pairing : Nadia Satrinava/Lucinda Wei/Lucio Morgasson

Warnings : threesome sex

Characters : Lucio Morgasson, Lucinda Wei (OC of @dreamygi ) and Nadia Satrinava

Timeline : Pre-plague

This story is based on this song :

And this is story was requested by the sweetie Jiah (@dreamygi )

Third Person POV

It was a normal inky black night in Vesuvia. The moon was shining out in the sky as usual and the stars twinkled with it.

People were bustling around the city minding their own business in the crowds. It was too packed up outside but that didn't mean that the condition inside the palace was any different.

In the Count's palace, a young lady was scrambling on her legs as she rushed for the Count's aid because she was summoned by him. Her flowy black hair followed her pace and her dark brown eyes were frantically moving here and there as she changed directions.

Once she reached his room, she knocked thrice at the door. From the other side, a muffled and cheery 'Come in!' came. And so, the pretty lady opened the door and entered.

"Lucinda! How nice to see my favorite maid come to me for my assistance" the count flaunted. Lucinda smiled at the count and approached him.

"You flatter me Count Lucio" she replied.

"So tell me sir, what can I do for you?"

"You see, the dinner you made today was really great Lucinda, but unfortunately I could not get enough of your delicious cooking. So can you please make some of your scrumptious cookies to satisfy my hunger?" He requested.

"Your Highness, you should not. First, it will ruin your appetite. And second, the dinner was one big load of food. If you eat more, it would not be healthy for you" she lectured him.

"Oh come on, can't I get something small and sweet to melt my mouth?" He pouted angrily.

"Your Grace, I would love to feed you with as many cookies I can make but, now is not the time. I am really sorry" she told him.

"Ugh fine....You are dismissed then" he pouted again, crossing his arms and sitting on his bed, turning his head away from her like an angry child.

Lucinda felt a bit pity on the childish Count. Nobody knew this but, Lucinda has a small crush on the Count.

........

..............

.......................

........OK that was a lie. She had a FAT crush on Lucio.

His conceited smile, his golden hair, his porcelain skin and his shining silver eyes were enough to make her lose her mind. She fell for him when she saw him for the first time. The fact that she was the Count's favourite maid made her heart swell with joy.

But for now, Lucinda had to refuse the count for feeding him cookies because she was worried about his health and didn't want him to become ill. She cared about him a lot and was denying him for his own good, even if it pained her heart to see Lucio being dissapointed.

But it didn't last long as Lucio's face brightened up again with an awfully suspicious smirk on his lips.

Lucinda raised her eyebrow. "Is something wrong Your Highness?"

"You see, if not cookies then how about a massage? My shoulders have become a bit stiff from sitting through countless meetings" he rubbed his shoulder to soothe it.

"Oh I can do that" Lucinda cracked her knuckles to get them nicely moving.

Lucio stripped from his coat and removed his upper clothing till his chest was exposed to the air. He relaxed himself on the bed in an extremely sexy pose which flexed his abdominal muscles.

"So where should I sta- Ahh!!!"

Lucinda squeaked from surprise and backed away a bit, blushing madly on seeing the half-naked Count.

"Y-Your Highness! Why are you naked!!?" Lucinda covered her eyes.

"I need to take off my clothes for a better effect, don't I? That's why I removed them. I want to feel your soft and proficient hands on me" he rubbed his chest in a seducing manner.

Lucinda blushed harder.

"Are you sure about this, Your Highness??" She asked one more time.

"I'm very sure about this, Darling" he winked at her, the nickname making her more flustered.

Lucinda gulped, but then approached the Count slowly. Her hands were shaking the whole time. She sits beside Lucio, hesitant to touch his body. This was the first time she was seeing him naked.

"T-Turn around please" she shyly requested him.

Lucio nodded and roller over, his back on top.

They were bestrowed with battle scars. Some of them were light and had almost healed up while some of them looked very deep and odious.

Lucinda winced at seeing each of the scars, her pity on him growing more.

"Don't worry. It was all in the past. Each scar had its own story though. Maybe I will tell you about them in the future" Lucio winked at her.

Lucinda blushed and nodded. She then took hold of his shoulders and pressed them, earning a quiet moan from him.

She continued putting pressure on them, easing the knots up and careful not to scrap his skin with her nails. She then moves onto his back where she accidentally touched one of the scars which had got swollen with time, making Lucio hiss from pain.

"Sorry" she apologized.

"I-It's alright. I'm fine" he breathed.

"I-I need to put oil on your wounds. That way it will not hurt". Lucinda gets a small bottle of rose-scented oil from her pocket and pours it on her hands. After her hands were smeared with oil, she massaged his whole back gently.

Lucio moaned louder from relief. Lucinda blushed more but she concentrated on her hands to skillfully massage his back. She felt every scar of his on her palm, sending shivers down her spine.

Lucinda could literally see the battlefield in front of her when she touched his wounds. The colliding of metal swords and shields and multiple corpses lying on the mud, bloodshed and ear-piercing screams everywhere. She could imagine everything.

She felt sorry for the Count. He has fought multiple battles and each wound must have hurt him to the maximum. She was really feeling guilty that how she was not by his side when he was in deep pain. She loved him so much that if he gets hurt, Lucinda too would would be injured.

She really really loved him to the most.......

Lucinda was so drowned in her trance that she didn't notice herself getting pinned down on the bed and her dress being removed from her body. However she was broken from her daydreaming when she felt someone sucking on her neck.

Yes......you guessed it right. It was Lucio who was kissing her.

"L-Lucio?! What are you doing?!!" Lucinda was beyond astonished to witness herself fully naked under the Count who had her trapped between his body and his elegant bed.

"You have been teasing me too much. It's time for your punishment" he then bit on her neck, making her yelp loudly and hold onto his shoulder and his hair.

Lucio groaned against her neck and sucked onto where he had bitten her. Lucinda's face was flushed red and she was desperately pulling on the sheets of the bed and his blonde hair, moaning from pleasure.

Lucio pulled away, looking at his masterpiece, smirking at how beautiful it was looking on her soft skin

. A dark red mark was smothered on her neck, ruining the perfection of her skin yet the love bite looked ideal on her.

"L-Lucio....... what was all this??" She asked him, dumbfounded from the sudden affection by the Count on a maid like her.

"Lucinda.....this may seem a bit sudden as it has been only week since you came here but, I have fallen for you. You are so caring towards me.....towards all of us, for that matter. And you are so prepossessing to eyes......I cannot even describe how pretty you are"

Lucio caressed her raven black hair, kissing it softly. Lucinda blushed more and pulled him into an immediate kiss.

That was all she wanted to hear from the Count.........

Lucio was taken aback for a bit, but it did not take him long to melt into the kiss and pull her closer by her head.

Lucinda rolled over so that she is on top and sat on his lap, not breaking the kiss. Lucio held her closer, pressing their bodies together. He had his hands on her bottom, squeezing them.

Lucio then broke the kiss and started pecking her bosom, occasionally biting on it lightly. Lucinda buried her fingers in his hair again as she led out lewd noises. She really wanted to remove his pants and stop the small play already.

She wanted him.....right......now........

"I see that you two are having fun without me"

Lucinda and Lucio both gasped from surprise looked sharply at where the voice came from.

And there was Nadia. She was standing there, her face impassive and her arms crossed as she stared at both of them, especially at the naked ravenette.

But how did Nadia get into the room?

Oh......They had forgotten to lock the door....

"Oh hello Noddy! Fancy seeing you here. But unfortunately, you came at a wrong time. Me and Lucinda were doing some..........private business. So do you mind coming back later??" Lucio gave a guiltless smile.

Nadia shook her head with disapproval and rubbed her eyebrows. She was very very disappointed with the immature Count.

"Lucio, I thought we had a deal that we both would share her" Nadia replied.

"Wait, deal??" Lucinda let go of Lucio and covered herself with a blanket. She was really confused what the hell they both were talking about.

"Yes you heard it right. You see, we both have become quite...... attracted to you, and we both want you. But we didn't want to fight with each other so we both came to an agreement that we shall share you" Nadia explained.

"Oh.....is that so, Milady?" Lucinda blushed pink. Was she hearing this right? That both the Count and the Countess were attracted to her??

"Yes of course. You are so interesting after all. You made us get attracted to you in less than a week. Now that is special, isn't it?" Nadia's cheeks flushed pink.

"Unfortunately, it seems like Lucio has already made his move. But I don't really care about that. So, would you mind if I join, Lucinda?" She asked her, seduction and lust eminent in her tone.

"O-Of course Milady. I don't mind at all", Lucinda had a bright blush on her face too.

Not going to lie, but Lucinda had a huge crush on Nadia too.

The day when she first saw her truly smiling and laughing, her heart had skipped a beat, and that's when she knew that she had indeed fallen for her. Her caring and sagacious personality was what she was attracted to the most.

Lucinda felt her face being cupped by Nadia as she pressed her lips with hers. Lucinda's cheeks got heated up but she obligingly kissed the Countess, pulling her closer.

She noticed how nice the Countess was smelling. She had the scents of jasmine and many other perfumes she could not recognise. But the fact was tru that she was smelling very very divine.

Though she really wanted to concentrate on the soft lips of the Countess, she could not ignore Lucio who was taking off his pants and underwear only to reveal his erect and throbbing meat.

Lucinda gulped inwardly seeing how big he was. Was it even going to fit in her? It will not break her, will it?

"Don't worry about him Dear. Have your beautiful eyes on me" Nadia turned her head towards her and continued to kiss her passionately.

Lucinda kissed back with the same passion but she gasped when she felt the rod griding against her entrance, teasing her and making her wet.

Lucio had taken hold of her soft hips, massaging them and playing with her skin while running his cock on her rose bud, moaning from the electrifying feel.

Lucinda's hand was cupping Nadia's cheek while the other hand had taken hold of Lucio's cock, lining it up to her entrance.

She was tired of all the teasing. She was craving for the real fun now.

Lucio got the signal of hers and smirked. He then wasted no time in inserting his cock inside her hole, groaning from pleasure when he felt his whole meat fit perfectly into her.

Lucinda gasped again and led out another loud moan when she felt his tip poking her spot. Nadia broke the kiss and started pecking her neck, groping her breasts while doing so.

Lucio started moving at a moderate speed, making sure to hit her spot with every thrust.

Lucinda led out many melodious and dirty noises from her throat. The skin of her neck vibrating with the reasonances of her moans.

Nadia bit on her neck and started leaving marks all over. Lucio groaned again and spanked her bottom hard, speeding himself up and leaning onto Lucinda's back, digging his nails on her hips.

Now that was going to leave a nasty mark....

"Oh gods!!....L-Lucio!! Nadia!!" Lucinda screamed both of their names, panting from breathlessness. She was getting so much pleasure from both the sides that she was on the verge of losing herself to orgasm already.

"Yes...scream my name....just like that" Lucio whispered in her hear and bit it, tugging on it lightly with his teeth.

Nadia on the other hand had littered her skin with many purple love bites and moved onto sucking her breast buttons next, occasionally licking and grinding them between her teeth which made Lucinda get closer to orgasm.

.......Not that Lucio wasn't trying his best to make her cum........

And speaking of Lucio, he was at his fastest now. He was hitting her spot multiple times, making Lucinda tremble and scream his name shamelessly.

Lucinda turned her head to press her lips against the blonde Count's and devour his lips hungrily as she whimpered from the pleasure spreading through her whole body.

Nadia had left many love bites similar to the previous ones on her chest and her hand was rubbing Lucinda's rose bud harshly, earning a high-pitched moan from her.

The room was echoing with the moans and groans of the three. Wet and vigorous slapping noises and intense sucking sounds were highly noticable. Both Lucio and Nadia weren't having any mercy on her and Lucinda was liking all of this.

Correction......Lucinda was loving all of this...........

Part 2 :

#the arcana #the arcana game #arcana mc #fan apprentice #arcana apprentice #arcana oc #count lucio #lucio morgasson #nadia satrinava #countess nadia #nadia x oc #lucio x oc #what I wrote

[roadtohell]

@mynamesdrstuff​ thank you ur brain is so big, i had like 10 moments of revelation while writing this

A Labour of Love- or, How to Write a Song That Makes Me Want to Lie Facedown On The Floor

Four decades separates the respective rises of singer-songwriters Hozier and Bruce Springsteen, nearly as large as the gap between the worlds in which their public images reside. According to popular myth, the former is the tall, near-ethereal Bog Man, half in this life and half in the next, who rose from a fae-inhabited woodland after 1000 years of slumber to find he was able only to mourn his lost love through song; the other is the Boss, a hardy yet compassionate working-class hero permanently streaked with the blood and sweat of a marathon shift, toiling endlessly alongside the heart-stopping, pants-dropping, hard-rocking, earth-quaking, booty-shaking, Viagra-taking*, love-making, legendary E Street Band. The domains of fen and factory may appear to be irreconcilable, but in reality the musicians have many things in common:

Broadly speaking, they both create wildly variable mixes of folk and rock, often with particularly strong Irish and African-American influences.

Their lyrics are poetic and commonly reflect on social issues with a progressive voice.

Songs about romantic relationships typically portray them as complex and difficult but remain respectful, sometimes near worshipful, of women.

Their characters yearn, long, pine and crave more often than not.

They both really like to use religious imagery.

They enjoy and return notable amounts of wlw love.

Representative of many of these are Hozier’s “Work Song” and Springsteen’s “Maria’s Bed”, two songs with close thematic parallels. Each is ostensibly told from the perspective of an exhausted labourer who dreams of returning to his lover. In a twist, however, “Work Song” is a melancholic love story, while the upbeat “Maria’s Bed” is a subtle tale of death; the opposing moods are complex reflections of these underlying narratives. These songs have Hozier and Springsteen skilfully intertwine the concepts of love, death, freedom and spirituality, creating two deeply moving portrayals of desire** that never fail to eviscerate the listener after 10pm.

Though the songs differ in overall lyrical structure, the similarities in narrative are evident from the first few lines:

Boys, workin' on empty / Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? / I just think about my baby / I'm so full of love I could barely eat

Been on a barbed wire highway forty days and nights / I ain’t complaining, it’s my job and it suits me right / I got a sweet soul fever rushing round my head / I’m gonna sleep tonight in Maria’s bed

The audience can gather that each character works in a harsh environment where they are exposed to the elements. Their work is likely in manual labour, but the details are skimmed over because the narrators don’t particularly want to think about the details. Pushed to their limits, each instead copes by preoccupying himself with thoughts of his lover, though it makes him literally lovesick.

I’d never want once from the cherry tree / ‘Cause my baby’s sweet as can be / She gives me toothaches just from kissing me

She gives me candy-stick kisses ‘neath a wolf-dog moon / A sweet breath and she’ll take you, mister, to the upper room

The worker recalls his lover’s kisses as being vibrantly sweet, sweeter than nature. So, too, is her company- in contrast to the grim situation he is currently in, she is something to be savoured. Sugar cravings, an innate biological compulsion, come to mind; his hankering for her is likewise deep-seated and out of his control.

The reason for such devotion, the narrator reveals, is that she saved his life at a time when he had already resigned himself to death. He believes he was undeserving of such a deed; Hozier describes “three days on a drunken sin… she never asked me once about the wrong I did,” while Springsteen’s character recounts being “burned by angels, sold wings of lead / then I fell in the roses and sweet salvation of Maria’s bed”. In other words, his state of ruin was at least partially self-made, and her care seemed completely inexplicable. He eagerly returns her love, perhaps feeling that it’s the least he owes- but he still doesn’t quite understand where it came from.

True to both songwriters’ styles, these lines are direct allusions to the idea of redemption in Christianity: God sheltering a faithful person from the literally hellish consequences of their wrongdoing, through no merit of their own. However, the worker is notably dismissive of traditional doctrine:

My babe would never fret none / About what my hands and my body done / If the Lord don’t forgive me / I’d still have my baby and my babe would have me

I’ve been out in the desert, yeah, doing my time / Searching through the dust for fool’s gold, looking for a sign / Holy man says “hold on, brother, there’s a light up ahead” / Ain’t nothing like the light that shines on me in Maria’s bed

His faith rests not in God but on his lover; she is his religion now. Her act of grace already gave him a new, better life- he doesn’t need biblical promises when her love is tantamount to anything heaven might offer. This implication conveys a staggering depth of feeling, particularly to a religiously raised listener. Spirituality is, at its core, emotional; combined with the values and customs of religion, it is a force that can exert incredible influence over a person. The worker doesn’t reject spirituality itself- it’s an intrinsic part of him- but he has put all that power in the hands of the one he adores. It may make him vulnerable to her (that’s love!), but he is certain that she will give him the strength he needs.

Theological redemption also has close ties with death, as its benefits aren’t meant to be reaped on earth. Instead, the love, glory and freedom that are promised are relegated to the afterlife. Historically, the presumed ecstasy of achieving this gave death a sexual connotation; after all, if a lover could take the spiritual place of God, then perhaps sex could take the role of death as a gateway to paradise, far away from a life of pain. Work Song embraces this analogy, explicitly linking spiritual fulfilment to the pleasure of sexual intimacy:

When I was kissing on my baby / And she put her love down, soft and sweet / In the low lamplight, I was free / Heaven and hell were words to me

The equally suggestive Maria’s Bed allows the audience to draw similar conclusions, but it accomplishes this using a far less serious method: regular mentions of the titular bed, wink-wink-nudge-nudge. Yet this light-hearted sauciness is something of a misdirection. It’s easy to gloss over the song’s references to water, but they are strong hints that support an alternative reading: Maria is not a woman, but a river***. The story, from this perspective, then becomes much more sombre- the worker is a dying or suicidal man who wishes to have his body laid at the bottom of a river that provided for him in life, and whose real desire is for the peace he hopes to find there in death.

Got on my dead man’s suit and smiling skull ring / Lucky graveyard boots and a song to sing / I keep my heart in my work, my troubles in my head / And I keep my soul in Maria’s bed

This darker interpretation arguably makes more sense than the face-value love story, as it resolves some figures of speech that otherwise seem out of place. Even so, the more obvious reading is no less meaningful****; in fact, the coexistence of these narratives is what makes Maria’s Bed an almost perfect thematic inverse to Work Song.

When my time comes around / Lay me gently in the cold dark earth / No grave can hold my body down / I’ll crawl home to her

Hozier uses the finality of death to illustrate the strength of a man’s desire for love- his narrator embraces his own passing as he is certain not even the most permanent of barriers can keep him from his lover. Springsteen, through the personification of the river, uses the language of romance to demonstrate how fervently a man might desire death- his narrator embraces his demise because it offers a reprieve from life, just like a lover would.

All that said, no amount of lyrical analysis will reveal the clearest point of contrast the songs have: their music.

Work Song primarily draws from blues and folk music, both of which have roots in historical work songs used to coordinate physical tasks as well as boost morale. Reflecting this musical heritage, instrumentation is fairly simple, with the steady rhythm of claps and piano chords punctuating hard. It is slow and heartfelt, almost mournful; though there’s no mention of time frame, the audience has the sense that the worker still has a long way to go before he can return to his lover.  This notion comes largely from the song’s circular structure. By ending with the same music it opened with, its story is also implied to finish at its beginning: with the men hard at work in the “burning heat”, and no true relief in sight. This is furthered by having little development over the course of the song- though iterations of the chorus are more intense than the verses, the arrangements underlying both sections barely change. The worker, it seems, is never quite far enough from his reality of hard labour, and never close enough to home.

On the other hand, Maria’s Bed is relentlessly optimistic, driven by a strong forward momentum. Where most modern songs have their choruses as their most powerful feature, here the wordless refrain (“hey hey, la la la li li li li”) acts more like a transition between verses, keeping the story moving. The jaunty fiddles that fade out are quite different to the introductory guitar and organ, suggesting the worker’s situation has developed for the better. In addition, the orchestration builds continually, only briefly pulling back before the music culminates in an extended musical outro. Many of the instruments work in counterpoint, each additional layer contributing to an air of an unrestrained joy that is further spurred on by Springsteen’s high hums and whoops. The linear musical direction and overall impression of good cowboy fun results in the feeling that, unlike the singer of Work Song, the narrator is already on his way to his heart’s desire- though, in light of the lyrics, what this actually means is somewhat ambiguous. Are those final echoes him moving out of earshot… or his ghost ascending to the “upper room” of heaven?

We may not know for sure how either of these stories end, but we can feel the aching hope for something better. This longing is an emotional line that runs all the way through both Springsteen and Hozier’s work, though it never seems to get old. Combined with explorations of love, faith, life, death- that’s why we return to their music again and again; they are experts at playing on old motifs and universal themes in new and creative ways, their crafted melodies and narratives touching wild and industrial hearts alike.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* I am legally obligated to include all these adjectives.

** Maria’s Bed seems to be sadly obscure even among fans; the one and only online forum discussion I have seen about the song refers to it as “not that deep”. Having written this whole essay- if Springsteen himself said that to me, I’d laugh in his face.

*** A random internet comment I can’t find anymore backs me up on this. It even specified that it was about the Santa Maria River in California, as quoted “from Bruce”. Obviously an infallible source 😊

**** It’s important that “[drinking] the cool clear waters” can totally be the description of oral sex you thought it was.

#hozier #bruce springsteen #maria's bed #work song #mynamesdrstuff #mine #this is so tonally inconsistent skjhsakd #literally have not written an essay in 3 years so #@anyone who reads this... thank u and best of luck #send me your address so i can visit you and explain my passions

[cdelphiki]

Bewildered was the only word Damian could use to describe how he felt.

Because just that morning, he hadn’t expected anyone to acknowledge what the day even was. But now, after he’d spent the morning playing video games with Jon, chatting with his Father on the phone, and then having a rather lovely lunch, people were showing up at the apartment.

Lots of people.

People Damian knew.

That he’d call family, if pressed.

...Plus Drake’s insufferable friends.

Which was just weird. Kon and Stephanie were there among the attendees, right along side Jason, Cass, Duke, and Alfred. 

So yes, Damian was bewildered. Or befuddled. Or just plain old confused.

Alfred he understood, of course. Even if the two of them had barely spoken since Damian got whisked away to the Kent’s, Alfred had always been one to remember things. And despite their relationship’s rocky start, Alfred had always been someone stable and supportive in his life. So, actually, he thought himself stupid for not realizing Alfred would actually remember.

It was the rest of these people that startled him.

He’d felt off kilter ever since he’d answered the door, an hour before, at Jon’s insistence that “it’s for you, D.”

Which, that was just annoying. The x-ray vision. The flagrant use of powers within the privacy of the apartment. Damian wasn’t used to it. Clark and Jon just…. casually floated around, sometimes. Used heat vision to heat things up. Speed to get chores done in a blink. And x-ray vision to look at and find things.

Damian was becoming progressively more amused by the exasperated glances Lois shot him, though, whenever one of them forgot that the rest of them couldn’t just look through the fridge door to see how many eggs were left.

It usually made him grin, actually. And he’d caught himself giving her the same look, a few times.

When Damian opened the door, however, he kind of wished he did have x-ray vision. Just so he could have had those precious few seconds to prepare himself.

Because on the other side of the door was Tim Drake. Just standing there. Holding a neatly wrapped gift with a card on top, and surrounded by all those people.

“Uhh,” Damian had stammered, a horrid habit he’d acquired from Jon, no doubt.

“Hey,” Tim had said, offering a lopsided grin as he pushed the gift at Damian, “Happy Birthday, gremlin. Gonna let us in?”

So Damian did, and it’d been a literal party ever since.

Which was what was so bewildering.

He’d never had a birthday party before.

Not like this.

They had cake and ice cream, as a group, and suddenly it made sense why Lois and Clark had made such a large cake. Before Damian was allowed to blow out his candles, he had to listen to the group sing him a ridiculous song, and it made him nostalgic for that first birthday he'd had away from the League.

Back when it was just him and Grayson and Alfred.

Grayson had sung this same song, all off key and squeaky, entirely on purpose, just to annoy Damian. But it’d been that gentle teasing, The kind Damian had come to associate with Dick Grayson. The kind that made him ache for his older brother, wishing beyond hope that the man would just hit his head and suddenly remember everything. Even though he knew that was not how brain injuries worked.

But just as the song had done on his 11th birthday, it made Damian feel warm inside on his 14th. It filled, just a little, that empty spot in his chest. The one that so often burned, with a soft almost…. happiness he had a difficult time describing. But damn was he going to cry again today. Especially not in front of all these people.

It was one thing to cry in front of the Kents, but like hell would he make such a mistake in front of the Bats.

“Clark,” Damian asked, once everyone had finished their cake and Clark and Lois were gathering the plates to wash, so they could ‘open presents,’ as Jon had shouted so enthusiastically. Brat probably knew whatever Damian got would be stored in their room, and therefore was basically his, too.

At least, that had been his reasoning, a few weeks back, when Damian caught Jon using his nice markers to draw the most horrific drawing of his dad he’d ever laid eyes on. ‘A school project,’ he had said, ‘we have to draw our favorite superhero.’ Damian had just scoffed and criticized both his misuse of the expensive Copics, as well as his predictable selection of his own father as his favorite superhero.

‘Isn’t Batman your favorite,’ Jon had said, to which Damian scoffed, ‘Yes, but Bruce Wayne is not.’ It had effectively shut Jon up. And relaying the price of each marker had also caused Jon to hand them back over, not wanting to replace any by ruining them.

“Yeah, bud?” Clark asked, smiling as he rinsed off each plate at lightning speed, even while he spoke to Damian. They were alone in the kitchen, and even though it was an open concept apartment, the group was being loud enough that Damian was confident in their privacy.

“Did you invite everyone?” he asked, resisting the urge to look away or pull his hood up. He hated his tells, and he tried his best not to show them.

“No,” Clark said easily, now drying the dishes off and putting them away in the cabinets. Why have a dishwasher when you have a Clark, Lois always said. “Tim did, actually. This entire party was his idea.”

“Tim Drake,” Damian asked incredulously. Because that made no sense. Damian had just been curious whether he should thank the Kents or Alfred for the party. It had never even crossed his mind that Tim might be the culprit.

Because what the hell??

“Is there more than one Tim?” Clark asked, clearly amused, now just leaning back against the sink to chat.

Well, yes, there was more than one Tim, Damian thought, but it was true that he didn’t personally know another Tim. It’s just, never in a million years would he have expected Tim Drake to be the one to do something so…. thoughtful. To be the reason Damian felt at peace for once, in a world without Dick Grayson, that is. And without Father around.

“But… Tim hates me?” Damian whispered, failing to prevent his shock from showing on his face, “Why would he….”

When Damian trailed off, Clark just frowned. “I don’t know what all has gone down between you two,” Clark said slowly but softly. In that same tone he always used when comforting Damian. He kind of hated that he liked it so much. “But I can tell you this: He does not hate you. I’d venture to say he actually loves you.”

All Damian could do was shake his head. Because no. No no no no no. That wasn’t right.

That couldn’t be right.

Tim Drake did not love Damian. Tim was the one who always rolled his eyes whenever Damian started speaking at family meetings. He was the one who groaned whenever Damian crashed one of his cases. When he had to team up with the Teen Titans, and Damian was there. When Father assigned them to patrol together. When he just remembered Damian existed, in general.

And it’s not like Damian didn’t deserve it. He realized, now, how wrongly he had treated his ‘brother’ from the beginning. Pushing him off the dinosaur had been unforgivable, he now knew. The fact Tim even tolerated him enough to simply groan and roll his eyes at his presence was more than Damian deserved, after breaking so many of his bones for no good reason.

So, no, Tim Drake did not love Damian. It was impossible. If their roles were reversed, Damian would never forgive Tim. Ever. Would be glad to be rid of him after this whole thing went down between Father and the rest of them, pulling Damian out of Gotham and Tim away from Father.

“Damian,” Clark said, wrapping his arm around Damian’s shoulders and pulling him in a little, “whatever is going around in that head of yours is wrong, okay? Tim cares about you, pal. Otherwise he wouldn’t have reached out weeks ago to make these plans. All those people over there care about you. They wouldn’t be here if they didn’t, okay?”

Resting the side of his head against Clark for a second, the only acceptance of the half hug he’d show, Damian looked at the group of people sitting in the living room, carrying on and laughing about whatever dumb thing Jason had just said.

Steph noticed he was staring, and she smiled brightly and called, “Come on, birthday boy. Come open your presents, and be prepared to be amazed by my awesome gift. Everything else on this table pales in comparison, I promise.”

“Shut up,” Jason said, tossing a chip at her for the comment, “I’ll have you know my gift is very thoughtful and incredible. The demon will cry I tell you. Cry.”

“Pfft,” Tim said loudly, “Mine’s the best. Kon already confirmed it.”

“That’s cheating,” Steph screeched, “You can’t use powers like that!”

It just devolved into chaos from there, as the lot of them continued arguing. Clark squeezed Damian’s shoulder and said, “Go on. I don’t think they’ll stop until you open them all and declare a winner.”

“Tt,” Damian huffed, even though he was smiling a little, “it is not proper to play favorites with gifts. It is the thought that counts, I have been told.”

“There’s the Alfred in you,” Clark said fondly, pushing Damian toward the living room.

The gifts were all incredible. Well, some more-so than others. Jason got him a gift card to one of the local art supply chains, as well as a copy of one of his favorite books. Alfred got him a set of teas, all of his favorites from when he was living in the manor. Steph got him a cartoon-style Robin figure, which was just insulting and kind of hilarious.

But when Damian opened Tim’s gift, he make sure to pay attention to his brother’s face, without making it obvious he was doing so. Tim’s expressions were carefully blank, but Damian could tell he was doing that to cover up for anxiety and excitement for whatever he had gotten Damian. And once the item was fully unwrapped, all Damian could do was gawk.

Because in Damian’s hands was a set of extremely rare natural pigments. He actually hadn’t even heard of half of the pigment sources, that was how obscure they were. But they were some of the most vibrant colors he’d ever seen. Bright purple, rich orange, dark blue, deep red, just to name a few of the colors he saw.

They were…. incredible.

He actually could not wait to mix some of them up and try them out.

“I got them in the gem world,” Tim explained, “a lot of those are made from materials not found on earth.”

When Damian realized what that confession meant, he almost did cry. Because at some point, months ago, before this entire fiasco had even begun, Tim Drake had seen a set of pigments while stranded in another dimension and thought ‘hey, Damian would like those,’ and then got them. Stored them away and waited for his birthday, and then planned an entire party when he realized the Bats were not doing one.

Just that realization threatened to set him over the edge again, but instead he just smiled.

He smiled and started to think that, yeah. Maybe Tim didn’t hate him.

Damian definitely didn’t hate Tim.

#Damian Wayne #Tim Drake #Clark Kent #Lois Lane #Jon Kent #Jason Todd #Alfred Pennyworth #Stephanie Brown #holy crap there are a lot of characters in this #Duke Thomas #Cassandra Cain #Batman #Batfam #life with the kents #Damian lives with the Kents after Batman 71 #that's the plot #Part 5 of a series #c writes #batfamily #superfamily #superman #fanfiction #batbros

[thesandersarchives]

The Immediate Aftermath (2)

Again, what it says on the tin (or: a continuation, focusing on Remus and Patton). Rated T. Intruality, background platonic Thomas&Patton. Fluff, Hurt/Comfort. 1693 words.

Patton’s hand stays firmly in Remus’ grip as they plod along after Thomas, and for that, Patton is immensely grateful. It’s a grounding pressure, and without it he may well fall apart.

It’s clear, though, at least to Patton, that the gesture isn’t only for his benefit. Remus is trembling, his fingers twitching occasionally where they’re interlocked with Patton’s own, and he’s pale--well, paler than usual. Although, Patton wonders, perhaps that was only ‘usual’ because of his... situation.

Patton cringes internally at the wording of his mental monologue, but how do you simply describe someone mentally and physically bonding with a whole colony of psychic supernatural worm-things in any other way? 

Patton’s no good with words, never has been, but he’s pretty sure even someone who’s as good at speaking as Logan, or his maybe-boyfriend, would find it difficult to accurately sum up what Remus has been through--what all of them have been through--in a single little sentence.

He gives Remus’ hand a squeeze, shoots him a smile, and watches some of the tension leave his frame. He doesn’t quite smile back, but he does move a little closer, bumping shoulders with Patton occasionally as they continue to their destination.

Thomas is quiet in front of them, and even though he can only see the guy’s back Patton just knows he’s wringing his hands.

“Thomas?” He calls out, soft as he can.

“Huh?” The man in question stops and spins around to look at him, eyes wide and full of a mix of messy emotions that all combine into what Patton can only describe as ‘desperation’.

“Thanks.” Patton offers him a smile, same as he did Remus, and reaches out to pat him on the shoulder before remembering that he’s still covered in grime. He winces, retracting his hand, but tries to laugh, for Thomas’ sake.

Remus nudges him, relaxing his hold on Patton’s hand. “Go for it, Pats, he’s already got dirt on him from when you guys were hugging earlier.”

Patton blinks, and notices the dirt streaking Thomas’ shirt for the first time. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!”

Thomas finally smiles, the first real smile Patton’s seen from him, and shakes his head. “Honestly, I needed to wash this shirt anyway. It’s fine.”

There’s an awkward pause, then, and Patton realizes that Thomas is a bit too much like him--he’s not going to ask for what he needs. It’s up to Patton to take the initiative, show him that it’s okay to reach out.

So he pulls Thomas in for another hug, intending for it to be shorter this time because he doesn’t want to overwhelm the poor guy, who’s probably had more hugs in one day than he’s had in years, and that’s only two hugs, and suddenly Patton’s crying, crying for this boy in his arms who grew up thinking he couldn’t love and be loved, who’s missed so much--

And then there’s a musty smell and an arm around his waist and Remus is there too.

“Figured since you’re already covered in dirt, a little worm goo wouldn’t make much difference.” He says, muffled slightly by Thomas’ now-ruined t-shirt, and Thomas sort-of laughs, a huff of breath signaling his amusement (or is it relief? Perhaps it’s both) like he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to properly, actually laugh.

Patton almost cries harder at the thought, but somehow, he manages to pull himself together and pull back.

Thomas looks between the three of them and grimaces. “I’ll grab us all a change of clothes in a bit. Um, there’s one bathroom just here...”

He opens a door, and Patton catches a glimpse of a fancy-looking clawfoot bathtub as well as an overlarge enclosed shower. Beside him, Remus goes very still, but Thomas continues, turning on his heel.

“The other one’s just this way--”

“Actually, kiddo?” Patton interrupts, “I think Remus and I could probably share. I mean, if you don’t mind taking the tub instead, Ree.”

The shorter man practically crumples into him in his obvious relief. “That sounds perfect.”

Thomas’ face is faintly red--whether it’s from Patton calling him ‘kiddo’ or the idea of him and Remus together, Patton’s not sure--but he’s quick to fish out some bath supplies from the cabinets, promising to leave some fresh clothes by the door as soon as he can.

And then it’s just the two of them in what would be a comfortable silence, if Patton hadn’t been so used to a more... boisterous version of Remus.

This Remus is quiet and contemplative, and despite not knowing him before the colony took hold Patton’s certain that this is not the way he used to be.

Patton takes the lead, then, letting Remus get out of his filthy clothes while he fills up the tub with bubbles and warm water (not too hot, in case his skin is too sensitive, the worm scars haven’t healed up as much as either of them would like). He’s grateful for something to do, not just because it’s a distraction, but because this way he doesn’t feel quite so helpless in the face of Remus’ struggles.

Patton disrobes and steps into the shower while Remus climbs into the tub (Patton catches a glimpse, not that he’s trying to look. It’s disconcerting, how many scars there are from the worms, and the fact that he can literally count Remus’ ribs worries him even more, but he tries not to frown or shudder or anything like that while he’s still in Remus’ line of sight--it wouldn’t be kind, it wouldn’t be fair)

There’s another long moment of silence while Patton starts on the arduous task of washing the dust and grime out of his hair. Then Remus speaks, his voice still a little rough from everything that happened earlier.

“Pat?”

“What’s up, hon?” Patton responds almost automatically, only registering the pet name after it’s left his mouth. He can’t see Remus’ reaction to it, but there’s a pause before he speaks again, and Patton dearly hopes he hasn’t crossed a line, hasn’t moved too quickly after the loss of the colony--

“Would, uh... Could you maybe... Sing? Or, or just talk to me, or something, anything that makes noise--I need it to not be quiet right now, but I don’t--I don’t...”

Remus sighs heavily, and before he can start up with some self-deprecating remarks Patton interrupts, putting as much cheer into his tone as he can without it sounding forced. Or so he hopes.

“Sure thing! Any requests?”

They spend a few minutes going back and forth about songs, because Remus’ taste in music tends towards the strange and obscure, and the songs he names are ones Patton’s never heard of before, but every song that Patton suggests is too mainstream for Remus’ liking. Then it devolves into Patton teasing Remus about being a ‘music snob’, but despite the fact that they’re bickering, the mood in the room is considerably lighter for that little while.

Patton ends up humming a lullaby from his childhood while he rinses the conditioner out of his curls, and when he’s finished, he starts with another, cycling through tunes from his favourite old cartoons until he’s all scrubbed clean.

When Patton towels off and steps out of the shower, he sees that Remus is still in the tub, staring at his hands with his lips pressed into a thin line. Patton wraps his towel more securely around his waist, and approaches gingerly. Getting closer, he can see that while Remus’ hands and arms are clean, the state of his hair and face is relatively unchanged, and Patton frowns.

“Remus, sweetheart, did you want some help with your hair?” He leans in, catching Remus’ eyes, and the other man nods, once.

“Thanks.” His voice is tight, like he’s trying to keep the shaking in his hands from creeping into his throat. Patton doesn’t comment, just nods and gets to work.

He’s interrupted about halfway through by Thomas knocking on the door, letting him know that he’s got fresh clothes for the both of them. There’s a tremor in his voice, and Patton hesitates before responding.

“Would you mind waiting around for us? I’m not sure we can find our way around this place without you.” He keeps his tone light, and Remus, bless him, has been shaken out of his own thoughts enough to pick up on what he’s doing, and manages a sound of agreement.

Patton rinses the last of the shampoo out of Remus’ too-long hair. Remus’ head is tipped back, his eyes closed, his lips set in a relaxed smile. He looks so much happier, healthier, more vibrant and alive and himself, and Patton is overcome with the urge to kiss him--on the lips, cheek, forehead, anywhere Remus will allow.

He runs his thumb down Remus’ cheek--gently, the scars are still fresh, not-quite-healed, more like wounds--and he asks. Quiet. Timid. Remus opens his eyes and looks at him for what feels like a long time. Blinks.

And then one hand rises up from the soapy water to curl around the back of Patton’s neck, drawing him in closer until he’s leaning over the edge of the tub. Remus brings him in oh-so-slowly before he seems to lose his nerve and turn to the side, though he rests his head against Patton’s rather than leaning away.

Patton waits a moment before tilting his head up and pressing a kiss to Remus’ temple, the gesture soft but lingering. When he pulls away, Remus gives him a watery smile, his hand coming to cup Patton’s cheek briefly before he lets it drop back below the surface of the water.

It’s a much shorter process to finish drying off and changing into fresh clothes--Remus gets a little giggly after a few off-color remarks set Patton stammering and fumbling over the slightly too-tight shirt Thomas has given him, but at least there’s no sorrow, no heaviness, nothing to cloud this strange but somehow lovely private moment.

Remus immediately reaches for his hand as Thomas leads them back down the hallway to find the others, and it’s the nicest thing that’s happened to Patton all day.

#supplemental #ficlet

[fuckedurbias]

summer with you - wen junhui

genre: fluff + smut, bestfriend!junhui

requested?: yes!!

word count: 4.7k,,, oof

warnings: oral sex + fingering 

You fell in love with your best friend during summer and it was beautiful and scary all at once. But you wouldn’t change it for the world.

The sun felt so warm against your skin, your face covered by the cap you had laid flat on top of it so you could nap peacefully without the sun blinding you.

However, you couldn’t get any form of napping in before your best friend, Junhui, started poking your arm and nagging you to get up and do something with him.

“Hey!! I know you’re awake!! Can you please acknowledge me!!” Junhui whined, laying his head down next to yours as he pouted up at you.

You ripped the hat off your face as you turned around to face him.

“Fine, then what do you want to do? For you to interrupt my valuable nap time it better be good Mr. Wen Junhui” you scowled, trying your best to make it seem real, but he could see right through you.

It was currently summer vacation and it was only the first week so you and Jun had been together the whole time, and you’d already done almost everything you could do in summer that would be considered the epitome of summer. Right now you were on a picnic in the city’s biggest park, and you’d both already demolished all the food you both prepared the night before. After eating a lot, you get tired which Junhui hates because of course you two always eat a lot when you’re together, so you’re always napping when he’s with you and it drives him insane because he wants to do stuff with you.

“I don’t know, just anything but sitting here bored out of my mind while you happily nap PLEASE” he pouts even more, threatening to bite your shoulder.

“Biting me doesn’t phase me anymore Junhui how many times do I have to tell you that” You roll your eyes, throwing your cap back over your face as you prepare to nap again. “No no please don’t!!! H-how about the pool? You can at least nap on the chairs there while I swim!!” He pleads. You can just feel his puppy eyes boring into you. “Okay but if we get there and you try and force me to swim it’s your head, you got that?” You roll around to sit up. Junhui happily jumps up, pulling the blanket from underneath you and swinging the basket into his hand in one movement. You groan and follow him back to his apartment to get changed into your bathing suits.

You two lived seperately of course, but you two might as well live together with the amount of spare stuff you share and keep at each others apartment for when one of you stays over, loses something or for ‘just in case’ situations. You left your favourite bathing suit at Junhui’s place by accident one time and it just stayed there, it’s not like it made much of a difference anyways since you two lived in the same dorm building at your college. The same floor, even. That’s how you became friends, funnily enough. It was your first day of moving into your dorm room you were trying to put together a desk that you’d just bought, and of course you were struggling immensely and mustn’t have realised how loudly you were voicing your… Frustrations, because next thing you knew there was a loud knock on your door and you opened it to a Junhui standing there looking smug.

“Sorry for interrupting… whatever it is you’re doing but I was on my way to my first class of the semester, but as soon as I opened my door; which is on the other side of this floor by the way, I heard your angry screams and got very concerned so wanted to see if everything’s okay here and that I know you are not brutally beating someone up in here, would you like some help with that desk there?”. You went bright red, lost for words as you just stared up at him. You just quietly mumbled a ‘yes’ as you looked down and moved to the side, welcoming him in. So much for first impressions.

-

You’d never been a fan of pools, sure as a kid the pros outweighed the cons but as you grow older you realise that they’re really not that great, all the chlorine and germs in that water just ruins every aspect of ‘fun’ you could ever have in them. Not the mention all the gross grubby kids around who most definitely don’t get out to use the bathroom. You were much more interested in just relaxing in the pool chair with a nice cold drink under the sun, listening to your favourite songs through your earphones and feeling real cute in your bathers.

You were literally having the time of your life relaxing by yourself when you suddenly felt water dripping all over your face, you sat up quickly and opened your eyes wide.

“WHAT IN THE ABSOLUTE HELL WEN JUNHUI?!” you screeched, taking of your sunglasses and drying your face with your towel. You looked up at his smug smirk with a genuine scowl this time.

“Sorry, just wanted to make sure you weren’t dying of heatstroke” He chuckled, sitting down on the chair next to your legs.

“Even if I was, just leave me be” you sighed, throwing your towel at him. He just caught it and used it to attempt to dry his hair.

“I’m kidding, I actually just miss you” He leans on the arm of the chair, chin in hand and batting his eyelashes. You’ve never rolled your eyes so hard. “So? You didn’t have to come and shake your wet hair onto me”

“You act as if you wouldn’t just turn your music up and ignore me otherwise?”

“…. You’re right”, you sigh “well what do you want?”

“I’m bored without you” he drags out the last word, knowing it will irritate you more.

“Stop being so clingy” you playfully push him away with your foot.

“Come and sit on the side at least”, he pouts “please!” he drags out the please even more.

You just glare at him in response. “Sitting out in the heat for so long is dangerous, at least dipping your legs in will cool you down even a bit” “Ugh, fine… but if you try and pull me in so help me god I will destroy you” you warn, and he knew you were fully serious.

You sat by the pool watching Jun be a fool, playing volleyball with some dudes he recognised from his classes. You looked down at your legs swinging slowly back and forth in the water, you stared down at your reflection. You were about to go deep down into your thoughts until the volleyball landed in front of you, making water splash up into your face.

One of the guys, who you knew was Seungkwan from the boys shouting at each other during the game, was apologising profusely to you. Junhui slowly waded over to you to pick up the ball.

“You okay?” He asks softly, pinching your cheek softly. You scrunch your nose up and softly push his hand away. You nod softly in return, giving him a little smile. He chuckled before swimming back to the boys. You sighed to yourself, you really really liked him. You were still trying to sort your feelings out; they had only started changing recently. At first you would never ever consider dating Jun or even think of seeing in any way other than platonic, and now you still didn’t want to think of him in any other way… but you do. It had only just started about a month ago, you were listening to him describe his hometown back in China and how he wanted to take you back there someday, where he would take you and what he would show you. He was talking about his family, his parents, his pets, his childhood. Seeing him talk so passionately and lovingly about something so close to his heart sparked something in you. Also the way he would stare out the window of the library as he would daydream and think about what to write for his essay. The way he’d look at you when you were ranting about your annoying professor and how she picks on you during class, when you were teasing him, when you were laughing at one of his stupid dad-like jokes. Oh god, your heart was singing. Why did you have to start to feel this way, you’re going to ruin everything, you’re trying your best to cut it out but your heart just won’t let you. That’s part of the reason of why you tease him so much, you hope that it will disguise your true feelings but you also just like to tease him because his reactions are so cute even when he’s not phased by it

“Hey!” He slowly swims over to you, resting his hands the bumpy concrete above the pool either side of your legs.

“Before you ask me to come into the water, no” You push his forehead, making him fall back into the water.

“Why?” He pouts, looking up at you with puppy eyes.

“Because I like the warmth up here, and the pool water’s gross you know how I feel about pools Junnie” you shake your head.

“Hmm… A good thing about the pool water is that I’m in here, come on I’m fun aren’t I?” he smiles, patting your knees. You just roll your eyes.

“This is one thing I am giving in for, I am NOT going in there”.

“Oh well, guess I’ll just have to make you do it then”, Junhui gets the sneakiest grin on his face, wrapping his arms around your ankles and sliding his shoulder underneath you, making you sit on his shoulder.

“Junhui NO!” you panic, leaning over and holding onto his free shoulder. He had the biggest smirk on his face as he slowly goes under the water, dipping your bottom half under with him. You screamed, wincing at the ice cold water against your skin. When Jun tries to stand back up he loses his footing against the step under the water and falls under, losing his grip on you and making you fall into the water next to him. You gasp and start panicking as the cold water hitting your top half makes you feel like you can’t breathe. He quickly comes up a second later and you quickly cling onto him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist.

“I told you not to do that or it’d be your head” You pant into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry”, he wraps his arms around you tightly “I just wanted to have a little fun with you I didn’t mean to slip”. He pulls his head back so he can look at your face, your frown quickly turns into a soft smile as you move his wet hair out of his face, patting his cheeks once you are done. He chuckles softly, slowly walking through the water with you clinging to him like a koala.

-

It was now 5 in the afternoon, you both went back to Jun’s apartment to shower and just chill for the rest of the night. You actually had fun once Jun (accidentally) dropped you in the pool, having splash fights, playing Marco Polo and just fooling around seeing who could hold their breath the longest and doing handstands in the water. You were coming out of the bathroom, in fresh clothes and drying your hair off with a towel. Junhui was sitting on the side of his bed, playing overwatch on his playstation with his college buddies, you knew who he was playing with because you could hear him screaming at that Seungkwan kid from before when you were getting ready in the bathroom.

You threw the towel you were using in his laundry basket and stood in front of him, watching his game on the big screen. He cursed as he died and the scoreboard came up, looking up at you as he muted his headset microphone.

“Wait a minute… isn’t that my shirt?” He squinted at you evilly, obviously noting how big the black long-sleeved shirt looked on you.

“I couldn’t find any of my spare shirts”, you frown innocently “plus I think I look better in it than you do”. He gasped, acting offended as you giggled at the looked on his face.

“You know what… I won’t argue with you on that, you’re absolutely right” he sighs, turning back to the screen of his game.

“Wait, no! You’re boring” you pout, sitting next to him on the bed. He knows that you hate when he doesn’t fight back at your teasing. “Would you rather me call you ugly?” He chuckles.

“Yes!... WAIT, NO NOT THAT!”

He erupts into laughter, quitting the game and shutting the machine off.

“It’s okay, I can’t lie to you even if it’s as a joke” he sighs, looking over at you. You cringe and fall back on his bed in an attempt to hide the blush that was creeping onto your face. He crawled onto the bed next to you, laying on his stomach as he looks up at you. You avoided his eye contact as you blushed even more, knowing full well he could see it.

“I lie to you all the time” you mumble, trying to break the awkward tension that was building.

“Really? When” he smirks, definitely due to the blush on your face and how shy you’ve suddenly become.

“Like when I told you I’m wearing your shirt because I couldn’t find any of my spare shirts I leave here, I just put it on because I wanted you wear your shirt” you giggle, which turns into squeals as he starts crawling on top of you, his hands grabbing onto your sides.

“Please don’t Junnie, please! I’ll change!” You plead, trying your best to push his arms off you. You know it’s too late though, because he starts tickling you before you can finish your last word. You try to beg him to stop amongst your squeals and laughing, but you give up as it’s too much. Jun is laughing evilly as he watches you struggle against his tickles, his fingers running against your soft skin. He slows down, wanting to hear what you have to say for yourself.

“Please! No more! I give in, you win!” you cry, trying your best to make him stop with your puppy eyes. He snorts at your bad attempt at trying to get him to stop.

“I don’t actually care at all, I just felt like tickling you”, he smirks “and please don’t change out of my shirt, seeing you in it is something I’ve daydreamt about for for a while now”.

Your heart stopped. Why must he do this to you, especially now when he’s right on top of you in your face and could see your face turning redder by the second?! Your hands immediately covered your face, only the very tips of your fingers visible underneath the long sleeves of his shirt. Junhui giggled mischievously, trying to pry your hands away from your face. “Why are you covering your face, huh? Are you blushing or something?” He teases in the most obnoxious tone.

“SHUT UP! GO AWAY!” You fight against his grasp, turning your face away into the blanket. He grabs your hands and pins them either side of your head, you scrunching your nose up in protest.

“I hate you” you mumble into the blanket.

“No you don’t”

You turn to look him in the eyes. “Yes, I do” you pant, breathless from both the tickling and trying to fight against his grip. “See now I know you’re lying to me” he smirks, knowing full well what is going on with you.

You frown, unable to look into his eyes. His stare right now is different to every other time you’ve seen. You realise how close your faces are to each other and try to push your face further back into the bed, but he just leans in more. Your breathing thins as he glances down at your lips and back up to your eyes. “Do you think I haven’t realised how you’ve been looking at my differently lately? That you’ve been acting differently?” His voice barely above a whisper. You just swallow hard, thoughts racing with every possible road that this situation could follow. “Because I have noticed, and I’ve been waiting ever so patiently for the chance to bring it up… and to tell how how I also feel” he slowly brings his lips down to ghost over your ear as he softly whispers the last part of his sentence to you, causing shivers to vibrate down your spine. Your breath hitches in your throat, how he feels? Did he feel the same?... or did he not? Either choice worried you a lot. You push his chest away from you and try to look up at him, but you cant bring yourself to. “Junhui I… I like you…. A lot”, getting those words out felt like you were throwing up “but I don’t really know if I want anything to happen because what if you know… we break up or something and it goes sour and then we’re not friends anymore. I’d really rather die than that happen, I can’t risk our friendship because I had to be stupid and grow romantic feelings for you”. You were just staring down at your hand as you confessed the thoughts that had been going on in your head for weeks, you’d rehearsed what you would say to him so many times before bed, just in case it came to a point where you couldn’t hold it in anymore, but you just ended up saying something completely different to that. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, you couldn’t lose Junhui of all people.

“Hey don’t cry, I like you too! And for a lot longer than you’ve liked me, ever since that first day that I helped you with your desk and we went and got lunch together” he smiles, wiping the tears that were falling out of your eyes. Him saying that only made you cry more.

“That doesn’t make my worries any less prominent Junnie, I don’t know if we should act on these feelings because if something goes wrong and I lose you I’ll never forgive myself” you sob, wiping your eyes with the sleeves of Jun’s shirt.

“I won’t let that happen, even if something goes wrong and we are awkward with each other for a while, do you really think I’d just let your annoying ass walk out of my life?” he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. You just keep crying.

“Please don’t cry, I really don’t think we would’ve met each other if we weren’t meant to be together, be it as friends or as partners. We meld so well together and it won’t really change anything if we date officially, we’re basically already together, the bad things will only happen if we allow them too. I want to be with you”, he pulls your hands away from your eyes, kissing the tears on your cheeks away “but, if you don’t want it to be that way then I respect your choice”. You just stare up at him, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. You think about it for a few seconds and before you know it your lips are collided with his. Both your head and heart are soaring; his lips are softer than you’d ever imagined. His hands slid down to your hips, pulling you closer to him. Your hands slide up to his hair, entangling your fingers through it and pulling softly. Your lips move in sync with each other, like they were meant to fit together like this. You softly slide your tongue against his lips, letting him know that you want more and he obliges, entering his tongue into your mouth and deepening the kiss. You moan softly at the feeling of your tongues colliding together in sync with your lips and your leg instinctively starts to wrap around his waist. He detaches his mouth from yours and slowly starts to kiss down your jaw, pressing his hips into yours and grinding against you ever so softly. You whimper as you throw your head back, giving him more space as he moves onto your neck.

“Fuck, I want you so bad” He whispers, turning into a whine. His hands move down to your ass, pushing into you harder as his hips jerk down, his body instinctively searching for any source of friction. His hard on was becoming more and more prominent by the second. His soft kisses on your neck were quickly turning into nips, but you had to stop him before he did anything you’d both regret.

“I have work tomorrow Jun, I can not go in with hickeys all over my neck” you warn, hands pushing him back by his chest. His face quickly became filled with a mischievous grin, and your heart started racing at whatever stunt he was about to pull. He slowly started hovering over your chest, hands sliding up to the hem of your (or, his) shirt, slowly sliding it off you. He’d already seen you half naked many times already from you getting changed in front of him so you really weren’t phased, but I guess the very obvious difference of this situation made you a tiny bit nervous. He started placing soft kisses over your chest, the skin very tender and soft, but very quickly he started softly nipping and sucking. You whined at the sensation, it made your core ache. Your hands found themselves in his hair once again, pulling harder this time. His sucking became harder, leaving darker marks over the lighter ones. His hands slid behind your back, unclasping your bra and immediately his lips ghosted over to your nipple. He glanced up at you through his long eyelashes, you returned his glance with pleading eyes. He ever so slowly took your already hard nipple into his mouth, wrapping his lips around it and sucking, flicking his tongue back and forth over it simultaneously, causing a breathy moan to escape your lips. He flicked your other nipple with his other hand, pinching it and running his index finger back and forth over it. You were already a whining mess and he had barely got started, and he was living for it. He gently nipped at your nipple before removing his hand from your other one, slowly sliding it down your body. He moved his mouth to your other nipple while both his hands slid your trackpants down your legs. You were very clearly already soaking wet, Junhui could feel it through your panties as he teasingly rubbed your folds through them. You gasped softly at the sudden friction you’d been aching for. Junhui detached his mouth from your nipple as he ghosted his lips down your stomach all the way until he made it to your panties. He brushed his lips and nose against your panties, right where your clit was under them. He chuckled quietly at the way you whimpered, you could envision the smirk he was wearing at that moment in your head. You lifted your head to look at him kneeling on the floor in front of you laying on your bed. “How long have you been daydreaming about this moment?” He teased, hooking his fingers around the sides of your panties as he slid them off, loving the way your eyes widened at the sight of him holding up your leg as he slid them off one by one.

“Stop being a little shit and just carry on with it” you snapped, if he waits any longer you’ll start crying. He chuckles at your sass.

“I’ll take care of you and prove to you that being with me is worth it, okay?” He whispers softly as he starts kissing up your thigh, relishing at how soft and sensitive the skin was to any slight touch. Once he reaches your soaking heat, he slowly parts your folds and places a soft kiss to your clit, you let out a gasp that ends with a moan. He grabs your thighs harshly, holding them down in place as he starts to get to work, licking a stripe up from your core to your clit and wrapping his lips around clit once he reaches it. Your back immediately arches, hips trying so desperately to fight against his grip holding them down to get more friction. As he sucks on your clit his tongue is flicking against it, keeping a steady and intense pace. Your fingers in his hair pull harshly on his hair, pulling him towards you trying to feel more of him in any way possible, if that even was possible. While his mouth works on your clit his fingers play with your entrance, circling it and opening it agonisingly slow. “Please Junnie, more, stop teasing” you breathe out amongst moans. He listens and slides his fingers in, two at once. He curls them up towards your clit that he is currently assaulting with his mouth. You try to grind your hips against him, but forget that he’s holding them down. You wrap your legs around his head, making his face press harder against you, finally getting the more pleasure you need. He unwraps his lips from your clit and flicks his tongue faster and harder against your clit, timing it together with the curls and pumps of his fingers. This sends you into a frenzy, moaning out his name amongst many curses. You were begging for more which you weren’t even sure if that was possible right now. The fire in your stomach started to ignite, shooting straight down to your core. Junhui felt your walls muscles starting to clench around him and your walls starting to clench around his fingers. He started to apply kitten laps to your clit and a third finger to his pumps, looking up at you in awe as your high quickly approached. One of your hands swung up to grip the doona cover near your head, gripping it hard in preparation for your orgasm which was about to hit hard. Your walls clenched even tighter around his fingers, making it hard for him to continue his pumping. Your clit started to throb against his tongue as you cried out as your high approached, finally pushing you over the edge as your started to shake and pulsate against him. He curled his fingers up against you a few more times before he pulled them out, but you begged him not to stop eating you out yet until you’d become completely undone. Once you stopped shaking, your thighs around his face became loose and were nothing but a whimpering, panting mess he pulled his head back, licking your juices from his fingers and lapping the mess off your thighs and entrance. He smiled up at you, looking absolutely beautiful gazing down at him through your eyelashes with flushed cheeks. He slowly crawls back up to face you, placing delicate kisses on both of your cheeks.

“Do you believe that it’s worth it now?” he asks, brushing your hair out of your face so delicately it seemed that he thought you’d break if he touched you with the slightest bit of pressure. You just nod in response, unable to form any words with the jumble that was your brain right now. His reaction to your mild response made not just butterflies, but elephants jump around in your stomach, the biggest smile you’d ever seen plaster his face. His eyes shining and looking at you as if you’d put all the stars in the sky. “So, in that case I’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow, you can’t back out of this now” he says proudly. You just nod again in response, ignoring his attempt to fire you up.

“Also, don’t worry about me right now”, he refers to his very obvious hard on poking through his trackpants “worry about me next time”. He winks as you immediately roll your eyes harder than you’ve ever rolled them before, you kick him hard the shin as he runs off to the bathroom, giggling like a schoolboy.

You fell in love with your best friend during summer and it was beautiful and scary all at once. But you wouldn’t change it for the world. 

#svt #seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #jun #junhui #wen junhui #kpop #seventeen reactions #seventeen kpop #performance unit #performance team #scoups #choi seungcheol #jeonghan #joshua #hong jisoo #hoshi #kwon soonyoung #wonwoo #woozi #lee jihoon #dk #lee seokmin #mingyu #the8

[blodreina-noumou]

Kind of a weird ask and you don’t need to do it if you don’t want to but I was wondering if you could match the 100 characters with the Halsey song you think fits their character

If I don’t answer this now, I’ll keep putting it off until Manic comes out - and then I’ll have sixteen more songs to agonize over, haha. I’m way overthinking this, and this ask has been sitting in my inbox for like, three weeks now. Thank you so much for your patience, and sorry for making you wait so long!

Here’s the songs I think match each character the best, along with the lyrics that convinced me!

(This was so tough - a lot of the songs don’t fit anyone at all, and some of them fit multiple people. But I did my best!)

Clarke - “Coming Down”

“I found god, I found [her] in a lover…”

“I’ve got a lover I love like religion, I’m such a fool for sacrifice… I’ve got a lover, and I’m unforgiven - I’m such a fool to pay this price.”

I’m definitely in a Clexa headspace for this song - there were others that suited Clarke, but I think this really nails her internal conflict, especially in s2 and s3. In this song, Halsey uses “it’s coming down” (a common phrase about the rain) to describe the inevitability of her affection for her lover, and the way this has the potential to ruin her life. But at the same time, the song is so soft and comforting, it feels like coming home. It fits Clexa so perfectly, and I always think about it now as a song about Lexa from Clarke’s perspective.

Octavia - “Control”

“And all the kids cried out, ‘Please stop, you’re scaring me.’ I can’t help this awful energy - goddamn right you should be scared of me. Who is in control?”

“I couldn’t stand in the person inside me, I turned all the mirrors around.”

“I’m bigger than my body, I’m colder than this home. I’m meaner than my demons, I’m bigger than these bones.”

“Control” is the perfect song for Octavia’s struggle with Blodreina, and her attitude when she decided to take on that persona. I love how Halsey claims her scariness in this song, how it becomes an anthem for rage and darkness, while also acknowledging that that darkness is destructive.

(“Castle” was a close second!)

Bellamy - “Empty Gold”

“We’re the underdogs, in this world alone - I’m a believer, got a fever running through my bones. We’re the alleycats, and they can throw their stones - they can break our hearts, they can’t take our souls.”

“If the morning light don’t steal our soul, we will walk away from empty gold.”

This song absolutely gives me s1 Bellamy vibes - the rebellious youth, hyping up his fellow outcasts, fighting and surviving, against all odds. Refusing to bow to the tyranny of the Ark any longer. Standing tall and firm as a leader and a role model - for chaos. It’s his love song to the delinquents, in my eyes.

Raven - “Nightmare”

“I’ve had the rug pulled beneath my feet, I’ve trusted lies, and trusted men, broke down and put myself back together again.”

“No, I won’t smile, but I’ll show you my teeth. And I’ma let you speak, if you just let me breathe.”

“I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind.”

Of course, Raven gets THE anthem for female empowerment, for badass adversity, for being an angry, snarling, back-talking, badass bitch who doesn’t owe anyone anything, and knows it. The weapon in her mind is literal - time and time again, she saves her friends with her brains. She’s been let down, over and over, by men who should’ve known better. She’s a nightmare, but she’d rather be that than die unaware. I love her, and I love this song.

Murphy - “Gasoline”

“Are you deranged like me, are you strange like me, lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?”

“Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me?”

“You can’t wake up, this is not a dream. You’re part of a machine, you are not a human being… Low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline. I think there’s a flaw in my code.”

Murphy fits the vibe of “Gasoline” well. A song about owning your darker side, finding some humor in it, but also recognizing that it’s going to be the death of you. And yet, he cannot escape it. Even as he finds family, and love, that darkness is still chasing him, and on some level, Murphy will never believe he’s good enough, or worthy of the love he has. He’s so self-deprecating - he’s always willing to make a joke out of himself, to make other people smile. A golden heart, cold hands. Embracing living and surviving within the machine. Murphy is a survivor, a fighter, and this song is all about pushing on when you’re empty.

Jasper - “Colors”

“You’re only happy when your sorry head is filled with dope/I hope you make it to the day you’re 28 years old.”

“You’re ripped at every edge, but you’re a masterpiece.”

I have so many feelings about Jasper. When I first got this ask, I listened to every Halsey song, all in a row, and tried to go with my gut on who fit each song the best. Once I thought of this for Jasper, I just couldn’t let go. 

His need for drugs to distance himself from the horror. How beautiful and special he was, and how little he knew it. The way the world was only red and black when he died… “so devoid of color, he don’t know what it means.”

(I made myself sad now.)

Lexa - “Young God”

“Babygirl, you know we’re gonna be legends, I’m the king and you’re the queen, and well, we’ll stumble through heaven.”

“I know you wanna go to heaven, but you’re human tonight.”

“Do you feel like a young god? You know, the two of us are just young gods. And we’ll be flying through the streets, with the people underneath, and they’re running, running, running…”

“Babygirl, don’t get cut on my edges - I’m the [queen] of everything, and my tongue is a weapon.”

I nearly smacked myself over how long it took me to get this one. Lexa is quite literally a young god, afterall. This song reminds me of the scene where Lexa and Clarke finally march on Mt Weather together - everyone running, with Lexa at the command, Clarke by her side. Heda and Wanheda (though she wasn’t named such yet) - two legendary women, both essentially gods to their people in different ways, conquering the world together.

Luna - “Hurricane”

“I’m the wanderess, I’m a one night stand - don’t belong to no city, don’t belong to no man. I’m the violence in the pouring rain. I’m a hurricane.”

Another one which was almost painfully obvious, once I realized it. Luna was literally the violence in the pouring rain - she took out most of the combatants in the final Conclave, and her ability to withstand the black rain kept her alive where others perished. She’s so deeply associated with the water, and such a force of nature. Her absence in Polis completely changes the trajectory of multiple lives - Lexa’s in particular. It also speaks to her deep, tragic belief that she was ultimately a destructive force, a harbinger of chaos, and valued primarily for the darkness in herself - not the good she could do, but the lives she could take. But she chose to leave her city, to leave her Flamekeeper and her faith, and to wander the world, until she found a better place.

BONUS:

The Rover - “Drive”

“All we do is drive, all we do is think about the feelings that we hide…”

In honor of all the angsty conversations and near-death experiences that took place inside that wonderful little all-terrain vehicle.

Those are the ones I can think of, but I’d love to hear anyone else’s interpretations! What Halsey songs do you associate with what The 100 characters? Do you agree with my choices, or have your own? Let me know!

#asks #anons #halsey #stephspeaks #clexa

[johannesviii]

Top 12 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2014

The “least good” of the three best years of the 2010s. This is still a top 12. Because I can, and I will.

I know. People also call it a bad year. And I think they’re wrong.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

New job, which is the one I still have currently. Also, I discovered Doctor Who in December 2013 and you know exactly what happened in 2014 because I dived head first into the extended universe as soon as I finished New Who and I’ve never really recovered since then. The end of the year was highly stressful, with my cat being sick, my father needing a very dangerous surgical intervention, and me being so stressed out I was basically unable to sleep for days. Might explain why there’s a lot of cute songs on this list, I needed cute stuff.

That year wasn’t very generous in good albums from bands I liked. Epica released The Quantum Enigma, and it was okay, Within Temptation had Hydra, and it was also okay, and Coldplay had the very underrated (in my opinion at least) Ghost Stories, a mostly melancholic album full of bittersweet post-breakup songs. So I’m left with no choice but to declare The Birthday Massacre’s album Superstition my album of the year for 2014. They had stayed at a consistent level since Pins And Needles so I wasn’t expecting anything better from them, but boy do they delivered. Here is Divide, it’s about a subterranean world and it might be a metaphor but as you know I’m very literal-minded! Here’s Beyond, about a lady falling in love with a strange woman who might be some sort of fae or supernatural entity!! I love most of the album and there’s only one subpar song on it. I know they’ll never get a crossover hit but they’d deserve it so much. Look at the state of the world. We’re so ready for a new mainstream wave of energetic, angsty, weird music. Just bring it on.

There’s only one non-elligible song that truely pisses me off this time, and it’s Traffic Girl by Indochine, another single from their Black City Parade album. It’s about a policewoman in North Korea who has to wave and smile at non existant traffic all day long and the song presents her as a modern hero. It’s one of my favorite songs on the album and I’m so mad it didn’t make the French year-end list.

Here’s a list of honorable menti-holy shit why is this list so long

Albatraoz (AronChupa) - Riiiiiight at the limit between catchy and annoying. But it’s blissfully short.

Chandelier (Sia) - I would like this more if it wasn’t that painful to listen to, I swear.

Magic in the Air (Magic System) - Insert my usual comment about these guys and their fun & happy songs.

Un Jour Au Mauvais Endroit (Calogero) - Great music, good lyrics. It’s still Calogero and I tend to dislike how overdramatic he usually is. Not enough to ruin that one song for me though.

Je Garde le Sourire (Black M) - This isn’t the last time he’s gonna appear in this post.

Prayer In C (Lilly Wood & The Prick) - A bit repetitive but in a good way.

Budapest (Georges Ezra) - A bit repetitive but in a good way 2, the return but in a completely different genre.

The Monster (Eminem & Rihanna) - We’ve now entered the songs which I considered putting on the list, and yeah, there’s a lot of them even if this is a top 12. “Bad year for pop music”. Yeah. Right.

Addicted To You (Avicii) - This is good, and the music video is great, and I want to stop feeling emotional about Avicii. Please.

Don’t Tell Em (Jeremih) - I. Uh. What the f█ck. Okay. There’s no way I can justify this. I simply adore this beat even if the lyrics are really, really bad. It’s just visually stunning and I really wish the song itself was better.

Photomaton (Jabberwocky) - I don’t think this would have charted without the success of Kavinsky the previous year. But still. Wonderful stuff. Well deserved.

Madame Pavoshko (Black M) - This was on the first version of the list but in the end I really had no room left for it. It’s a song about a guy telling his old teacher he made it in life despite the fact she labelled him a hopeless case at school. With such a premise, it could be an angry song, but no, it’s upbeat, sarcastic and fun. Wonderful stuff.

Le Graal (Kyo) - Kyo? Wait, you mean the embarrassing emo guys from my 2002 and 2003 lists? These guys?? They were back on the charts after ten years?? And suddenly everyone thought it was cool to like them again?? Including me??? Sounds fake but okay

Turn Down For What (DJ Snake) - The last cut. Stim music at its finest, sharp, aggressive and colorful. Everything I ever wanted from a hit song.

Well, that was long. Here’s the actual list.

12 - Wake Me Up (Avicii)

US: #22 / FR: Not on the list

“So wake me up when it’s all over, when I’m wiser and I’m older” should make no sense. You can’t get wiser if you’re asleep. At least that’s what I would probably say if I didn’t feel this. There’s a lot of times in my life I wished I could be switched off and woken up a couple of years later and be like “hello I’m back, I feel better now, what did I miss”. I totally get it.

The only reason this song is so low on the list is the drop. I don’t like it very much. The rest is damn good.

11 - Boom Clap (Charlie XCX)

US: #34 / FR: #84

Boom! Boom! Boom! CLAP. That song got me after its first seconds. Love its atmosphere, very cotton candy-like, very fluffy, with a sharp voice. Doesn’t work well if you listen to it on a loop, though, and that’s the only negative thing I can say against it.

10 - Stay The Night (Zedd)

US: #94 / FR: Not on the list

This on the other hand works very well on repeat and that drop is golden. I’m afraid I don’t have anything very interesting to say about it. It stayed on my playlist from 2014 to summer 2019, though, so that’s an impressive feat.

9 - Rather Be (Clean Bandit)

US: #41 / FR: #18

Several critics I follow have commented this song is 1) mostly meaningless 2) too perfect to say anything about it and I agree. It’s also too perfect to be really passionate about it, unfortunately, but still, very, very good stuff.

8 - Magic (Coldplay)

US: Not on the list / FR: #66

You already know I don’t really like lowkey emotional songs and I also hate the first act of Coldplay’s career, so why on earth did I like Ghost Stories so much and why is Magic making me feel so emotional, you ask? Well it’s because the music itself isn’t bland. It’s lowkey but rich, dense and colourful, and it works much better than whatever they were doing before with their slow boring songs. Also, I really struggle with dramatic vocal performances on quiet emotional songs (which is why I tend to have issues with Adele’s voice on some of her stuff), and here the balance is just ideal. Soft colors, soft textures, soft voice, this is like a colorful plushie you’ve lost for years and just found in the attic and it brings you to tears. I adore it.

Also the part of the lyrics that goes “And if you were to ask me / After all that we've been through / Still believe in magic? / Oh yes I do”, that makes me want to hug someone and never let go.

7 - Waves (Mr Probz)

US: Not on the list / FR: #15

This is completely hypnotic. It’s perfect to drive, to walk, to draw. to sit on a bench and look at the trees. It’s just wave after wave of pastel colors with a good beat and it washes away your anxiety slowly but surely. Therapeutic and beautiful without ever feeling bland. Wonderful stuff.

6 - Uptown Funk (Bruno Mars & Mark Ronson)

US: Not on the list (#1 on the 2015 year-end list) / FR: #3

Everyone loved it and I wasn’t an exception. You all know it and I’ve got nothing new or interesting to say about it. A ton of fun. Love the lyrics.

5 - Sur Ma Route (Black M)

US: Not on the list / FR: #7

If you’re wondering what’s going on in this picture, the guy is parodying a lot of famous movies or series in the music video. It’s a simple but super energetic song about trying to trace your own road in life and all the problems you encounter and how you can’t always count on people you thought were your friends. It’s very propulsive and motivating and it’s my favorite song from that guy even though he made a lot of good songs. Just great stuff. Check it out if you’ve never heard it.

Speaking of being on your own...

4 - Ain’t It Fun (Paramore)

US: #47 / FR: Not on the list

I miss hearing that kind of thing on the radio and yes, I’m aware that makes me sound like an old idiot. Oh how I wish this had been released in 2010 when I just started to work, that would have been perfect. I know the song is supposed to be sarcastic with the whole “ain’t it fun being on your own” angle, but yeah, when your life wasn’t great before, it’s actually liberating to “live in the real world”, even if it sucks at times, even if it’s difficult and you have responsibilities and all.

Also the music video is super cute. Love it.

3 - Pompeii (Bastille)

US: #12 / FR: Not on the list

I’m honestly surprised this is only #3 on this list considering how much I loved this one back when it came out, and don’t get me wrong, it’s still a song I love to this day, just... a bit less. Maybe it’s because of overplay? I’m not exactly sure considering #1 was also played very often and I never ever got tired of it. And it’s well written, and it’s not every day that you hear a song about two dead people talking about the wrath of the gods after their city was engulfed in ash.

So yeah. Not sure what happened there. I hope this band is eventually gonna have another hit like this one. Bastille, more of Pompeii and less of Happier, please.

2 - Dangerous (David Guetta)

US: Not on the list / FR: #8

A few months ago I heard Memories by Maroon 5 and I was instantly filled with a truely disproportionate amount of rage for such a bland pop song. See, I love it when music uses well-known classical tunes and completely changes their context and tone, but Memories doesn’t do any of that, it’s just the Pachelbel canon with some bad lyrics on top. So yeah, it’s a pet peeve.

Dangerous, on the other hand, is a song mixing a small loop of Toccata & Fugue in D minor and it basically uses it as an ominous pseudo-police siren in a song about illegally cruising a car with your possibly criminal, possibly gangster crush and not knowing if you’re scared, in love or feeling the thrill of adventure, or all of that at once. I. Love this damn song.

When the only bad thing I have to say about a song talking about driving at night way too fast is “eh this isn’t as good as Kavinsky”, you know you’ve found gold.

1 - A Sky Full of Stars (Coldplay & Avicii)

US: #51 / FR: #9

As much as I love Dangerous, there wasn’t any doubt about what would top this list. I’ve spent about ten lists explaining how my appreciation of Coldplay kept growing over time and four lists explaining how much I loved Avicii, and this song is the best of both worlds. The first time I heard it, I was driving and, no joke, I was so overwhelmed I had to park my car to properly concentrate on the song.

One day I will have to paint this song to explain how fantastic it looks and I’d have to use purple, china blue and pink watercolor inks and basically paint a psychedelic night sky full of little lights and yeah, this is basically another of these songs that are deeply satisfying on a synesthetic level, and it joins this very select club with the blue song called “Blue”, the song full of bright flashes called “Lights” and the song that looks like gentle pulsing lights called “Fireflies”. I’m trying (and failing) to learn how to play it on the piano. I know the chords, and I suck, but I’m very determined.

On top of that deeply satisfying visual, there’s the soft vocals so specific of the Ghost Stories album, and the very simple, very cute lyrics, and I simply hear “'Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars, I'm gonna give you my heart” and I die instantly. This is high quality musical fluff. Come to think of it, this list is full of it, and this is the Ultimate Fluffy Song. One fluff to rule them all.

Sidenote, considering I fell into the DW audios right when this song came out, that’s one of my theme songs for Eight and Charley. Because of course it is.

Next up: The beginning of a progressive drop in quality but you wouldn’t be able to tell considering how long this list of honorable mentions is

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post #eye contact tw

[03milky]

boyf! jungkook

oh la la, i’m back and idk hope yall enjoy dis <3 

gifs doesn’t belong to me, credits to the owners anyways lets get started mamis n papis

confession

omf confessing to this cheesy fuck

i can’t even imagine it

it would be so cliche

the two would know each other bc of friends

and it’d be alright, you wouldn’t call him your best friend but the two of you would go along with each other very well

the more the two of you saw each other, the more interested our jungkook here got interested in you

he wasn’t ashamed of being interested in you and eventually asked your number 

“y/n, mind giving me your number?”

“oh sure”

from that moment the two of you talked a lot more than usual and became reALLY close

like reALLY

since he knows you a lot better now, he knew he had the chance to actually try ;)))

which didn’t really surprise the other kiddos when he told them about liking you

“it’s not shocking, you see, jungkook. you’re kind of a bit too obvious”

“true, it’s obvious, same goes to them. i bet they’re interested in you”

“hm, who knows?”

obviously, he always highkey flirted with you 

“hey, you got something on your lips”

“what”

“let me remove it for you”

he would be so cheesy, omf

okay no

yall know how he is :(

but let’s not ruin this HAHAHAHAH let’s keep going

well- this dude was getting impatient and decided to confess his feelings for you

it was just a regular busy day and you came home exhausted

until you got a text from jungkook

‘y/n. you might not read this long message after your long and busy day but i’m going to try to make it as short as i can. i like you, more than a friend and i can’t even describe how much i even like you at this point. you make me happy, you make my heart skip a beat. i apologize, if this made you feel uncomfortable and awkward but i had to get it off my shoulders and tell you. next to that, take care of yourself and have a good night’

you were shocked and pretty happy- since you didn’t expect him to like you 

instead of replying back in text, you replied back by calling him

“i like you too, jungkook”

you couldn’t see him at all, but he was smiling from ear to ear and he could feel the many butterflies in his stomach going crazy

the call didn’t end that soon, it ended after hours and hours of calling 

and you wouldn’t ever forget that night, where it all started

dates

wow

dates with this cutie

you two wouldn’t be able to go on as many dates but of course, when there’s time- the two of you would go out

he’s the type that loves typical dates

going out to the city, to go shopping

most of the time, after buying clothes- you would find yourself buying food and sharing it with each other

while talking about the most random things

“you know, princess fiona?”

“no, who is she?”

“shrek’s wife, you know who’s the voice actress behind?”

“ohh, yes, haha, i do know her and who’s it?”

“it’s cameron diaz”

“no way”

“yes way, prince/ss”

you just stared at him, speechless

after the two of you are done eating

you two would make your way, to his favorite place

the karaoke room

you and jungkook would literally be screaming the moment the first song comes on

“oKAY- NOW THE PERSON WHO GETS THE HIGHEST SCORE NEEDS TO TREAT FOR A FREE BUFFET”

“DEAL”

but whenever a ballad song comes on the two of you would act super overdramatic and even start fake crying

“very touching, love it”

after that jungkook would obviously play a love song and while singing it, he’d look at you

which would make you realize how lucky you actually are to be with a person like him

“your heart is all i own and in your eyes, you’re holding mine”

yes

very cheesy but it’s not as if both of you like it ;)

and then comes the hardest thing 

saying goodbye to each other

he’d be hugging you tight while you try to pull away

“i’m going to miss my bus, jungs”

“i’m going to miss you”

“i will miss you too”

“well, get home safely and call me when you arrive yeah?”

“you too and i will”

kisses n hugs

he’s very much in love with hugs

jungkook would hug you, whenever you’re

feeling down

feeling happy

feeling tired

just every single time, the two of you are together he’d be there to hug you

even when you’re sleeping next to him, he wouldn’t forget to wrap his arms around you and pull you close to him

“sweet dreams”

and when it comes to kisses

omfg

he loves kisses but doesn’t really do it a lot

especially when you aren’t comfortable

but jungkook would actually give you quick and short kisses when he has the chance

it’d be so quick you won’t even realize he gave you a kiss

“wait- did you just?”

“yes”

“oH, i didn’t feel anything at all, just saw you move”

“was it that fast?”

“it was”

but whenever the two of you are alone

expect him to spoil you with kisses

you’d be talking about how you want to buy this new phone

and he’d suddenly take your hand and kiss it

“that was so sudden, jungkook”

“i can’t help my love for you”

so

expect super random kisses and hugs from this cutie ;))

others

hm

let’s talk about the way he shows his love to you ;))

we aint going there bc no just no, we staying soft here

well

he’s very in love

which he would show a lot

by showing affection and skinship which i’ve already said in kisses n hugs

whenever you aren’t around

he likes showing you off a bit too much

even though it’s in a low-key way

especially when the others are talking about you

he’d obviously jump into the conversation and show them on how of a proud boyfriend he is

“y/n, sure is a beautiful person”

“of course, sad that you realized just now”

“wow, calm there, boyfriend”

“just saying”

most of the time, he’d be pretty busy since your boy is an idol and the only way to see each other is through face time

omf uwu

jungkook would be singing songs, complimenting you every 1 minute and just be in love

he probably won’t even shut his mouth for one second

and whenever you’re talking,

his eyes would be kind of sparkling, sparkling with love

ok

bye

i cringed

but fr tho, he loves the way your voice sounds

it just gives him a lot of butterflies even though it’s been a while since the two of you have been a couple

“thank you for always having time to talk to me, i love you”

“i love you too.”

idk but jungkook makes me cry- he’s so beautiful my heart can’t take it and he has grown so much??? i just can’t believe my eyes

#bts au #bts headcanons #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts drabbles #bts snaps #bts texts #kpop au #kpop headcanons #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop drabbles #kpop texts #kpop #bts #jeon jungkook