#everyone laugh at my mediocre joke

[fairlyang]

El perdedor 🕷️

finding your ex at the club

w/c: 2.7K

pairing: ex!miguel x latina!reader

tags: rebound, dancing, a lil gay if you squint, shaking ass, jealousy, delulu ex, slowly folding

notes: i posted this shit back in june and when I was reposting everything I really didn’t wanna repost this one but I think there’s more latinas here entonces para ustedes mis amores <3 (only thing I changed from this was the pov bc it was so bad LMAO but it was my 4th fic of mig)

You roll your eyes at your new fling's friend after making a nasty joke of a girl who just walked past you. He takes notice and tells you to stop being so uptight. "Then stop being such a dick." You say and he snorts.

You roll your eyes and look away from him. Having to deal with this bullshit just for some mediocre dick with alright dirty talk? Probably one of my worst decisions to date.

Next to breaking up with Miguel.... But your ego will never let you admit that you miss him and his won't either, clearly since it's been two months. But you couldn't wait around to find out so you’ve been fooling around a bit. Nothing serious since you’re not in the right headspace for that and Daniel knows that. Just here for the drinks, alright sex, and decent conversations.

You’re in line to get into a club but as it's almost midnight it's the hot hour of everyone wanting to get wasted. "Why can't we go to another club? This line is so fucking long-" a girl from fling's friend group asks.

"This is the only one with incredible strippe-"

You groan and shake your head. "Don't you have a girlfriend?"

"It's none of your business actua-"

"You two didn't break up though, Y/n kinda has a point....." Daniel speaks up and he pretends to cry.

"Whah whah- so what? She thinks she can still be friends with her ex while being with me? Then I'll just have my own fun." He says with a smirk and you have the most disgusted look on your face ever.

The other girl does as well and just shakes her head. The lines finally starts moving and at a fast pace actually until it stops with the people in front of you showing the bouncers their ids. You get your out from your bra making the annoying asshole smirk. "Fuck off."

He holds up his hands in defense and Daniel moves to stand next to you. "Soon as we're in there he's gonna be out of our hands alright?" He whispers and you just nod.

The people in front of you finally show them and you step forward. You give it to the bouncer to the left and he looks at it and feels it for a few seconds before handing it back and nods. You move forward, putting it in your phone case, and wait for Daniel to get his checked and you step into the first set of doors. You both wait for the other two and you can instantly smell all the sweat and alcohol. Amazing.

They both finally join you and walk ahead of you, not caring you guys waited. You give Daniel a look and he shrugs. Asshole goes straight to where there are indeed strippers and home girl was nowhere to be seen. That was fast.

"So drinks?" Daniel asks and you nod following him to the main bar.

You walk through people just standing around by booths and table and other who are just making out. You make it to the bar and Daniel says something you can't hear because of the loud techno with pop music. The bartender takes out two shot glasses and fills them to the very top. Daniel picks them both up and gives you yours.

You raise it up and bring it to your mouth and swallow it fast. You gag a little and he laughs. "You fine with just one?"

"For now yeah I think." You say and put the glass back on the counter nodding to the bartender.

You turn back around and watch as Daniel is looking over at a booth almost near the entrance. How can he even see that far.....

You squint but know you have fucked up eye sight so you just stop. "Oh shit- wait here I think I just recognized someone-" he says and starts walking away.

You blink and call out after him, "you're leaving me like that??"

"I'll make it up to you." He turns to look at you then walks away making you roll your eyes. The audacity.

You let out a sigh and shake your head. Dickhead. You turn back to the bar and take a seat. "Another shot please and can you put it on my friend's tab?" You ask with a slight smirk.

He laughs and nods taking out a clean shot glass and once again filling it to the brim. You smile and grab it, then swallow it faster than the first. You don't gag too bad this time and put the glass down. Then your head snaps to the speakers within hearing one singular second of Gasolina by daddy yankee.

You make your way to the dance floor and move in towards the middle where there's a group of girls just dancing with each other. You smile and just dance next to them when one of them grabs your hand and dances with you. You laugh and move your hips to the beat while singing the lyrics with the other girls. All the girls are dancing with each other and taking turns with each other.

You ended up swapping places with another girl and she had the brightest smile while shaking her ass a bit on you. Which was fine because who doesn't like dancing and shaking ass with the girlies to this song?

Zúmbale mambo pa' que mi gata prenda lo' motore'

Zúmbale mambo pa' que mi gata prenda lo' motore'

Zúmbale mambo pa' que mi gata prenda lo' motore'

Que se preparen que lo que viene es pa' que le den (duro)

The first girl you were with found you again and stands in front of you and grinds against you to the beat. You held her hips and she grabs your other hand to hold it. So cute.

You switch off with her, dancing on her then shaking a bit of ass on her, and she hypes you up, screaming and smacking it playfully. You turn around and start laughing which makes her do so as well. "Girl give me your number immediately!!" She screams and you nod as she passes me her phone.

"I love making new girlfriends cuando sale gasolina. Todas las hermosas salen y se tan divertido!" She screams and you nod. (I love making new girlfriends when gasolina plays. All the gorgeous girls come out and it's so much fun!)

"Rally up all the baddies with just one song." You scream back and she laughs.

"I'm Y/n by the way!"

"I'm Rosa! I gotta go but we should do this again!! You're an incredible dancing partner!" She exclaims and you grin.

"Anytime!!" You say and wave goodbye as she leaves.

You dance to the beat of the chorus of Perra by tokischa with the leftover girlies as you all scream the lyrics and one girl even got on all floors and crawled her way to her friend. You all screamed and you just burst out laughing until your stomach starts hurting and you have to stop to breathe.

Then you hear El Perdedor by Maluma start playing and you get excited because you love singing it.

Baby (¿Pa' qué me estás llamando?)

"Pa que me estás llamando???" You scream with the two other girls that were left from the little circle.

Dime si es verdad que él te trae loca

(Y ¿ahora es que te importa?) ¿Ah si?

You sing the lyrics but notice the girls already left so there's no more circle or a triangle and now you’re just surrounded by couples. Unfortunate.

Aún no lo creo, que en tan poco tiempo y ya besas otra boca

(De mala) ¿Qué?

You listen to the lyrics and widen your eyes. Seems a little too close to home....

Dime cuál fue mi error

Si mi único delito solo fue amarte

Hoy soy el perdedor (Bebé, no)

Él me ha robado el truco para enamorarte

You feel a pit in your stomach suddenly unsure of what it is until you feel a person's presence standing behind you. Their hands grabs your hips bringing you closer to them and you widen your eyes.

Y dime que me amas, aunque sea mentira

No puedo negarte, los celos me están matando

They move your hair from the left side of your face and sing the lyrics to you. oh shit-

Y dile en su cara que aún por mí suspiras

Me parte el alma no volver a verte

"Al fin me toca verte...." He whispers directly in your ear leaving shivers down your spine and arms. (Finally I get to see you)

Y dime que me amas, aunque sea mentira

Sabes que no hay nadie como yo

Y dile en su cara que aún por mí suspiras

No te engañes, no me olvidarás

"I know for you it isn't a lie... and have you told your new man you haven't forgotten about me?" He whispers as those lines play, leaving the lightest kisses below your ear. You pull away slightly pushing him off and turn to look at him.

Está claro que tú mereces alguien mejor

"And you're gonna tell me I deserve better than you?" You ask with a scoff staring right at Miguel O'hara's eyes making him smirk.

No sé en qué fallé, pero no hay otro como yo

Oye ma', dame otra oportunidad

Bien sabes no soy así, solo tú me haces rogar

Mirándome al espejo y peleando con mi ego

Si entre más me alejo, más te pienso

"There's no better than me sweetheart. But you really are the only one I'll ever beg for..." he says his hands slipping to your waist and bringing you as close to him as as possible.

"And I have been fighting my ego trying not to contact you...." he says and you can't believe he's just repeating the lyrics for you and them making complete sense to your situation.

Dime cuál fue mi error

Si mi único delito solo fue amarte

Hoy soy el perdedor

Él me ha robado el truco para enamorarte

He whispers the lyrics softly to you then gets kind of annoyed at the last line making you snort.

Y dime que me amas, aunque sea mentira

No puedo negarte, los celos me están matando

Y dile en su cara que aún por mí suspiras

Me parte el alma no volver a verte

"You have no fucking idea how badly the jealousy has been eating me alive..." he growls and you bite your lip.

"So did you tell him about me?" He asks with a smirk on his face.

Y dime que me amas, aunque sea mentira

Sabes que no hay nadie como yo

Y dile en su cara que aún por mí suspiras

No te engañes, no me olvidarás

"Don't be st-stupid-" you say, not even able to keep a straight face or manage to keep the eye contact.

He scoffs and lifts your chin with two fingers to look up at him. Jesus.

Y si te da la gana de volver a verme

Estaré disponible para contestarte

Y yo sé que, por tu parte, no sientes rencores

Quizás mañana vuelvas pa' que te enamore (More')

"I'm actually not sure if you regret it.. but I know deep down you do." He says and you bite your tongue.

"Y envés de mañana," he whispers and moves his face to leave wet kisses on your neck, "tal ves quieres que te enamores de mi otra ves, ahorita mismo." (And instead of tomorrow, maybe you want to fall in love with me again, right now.)

Cuando tomábamos, lo hacíamos

Fumábamos, y reíamos

Éramos dos locos sin saber pa' dónde íbamos

Pero son cosas del destino

Al pasar el tiempo, tú cogiste tu camino

"E-estas loco- no ha- no hables tonterías." You say as your breathing is suddenly all over the place. (Y-you're crazy- don't ta- don't talk nonsense)

He comes up and nibbles on your ear, his hands dangerously near your ass while yours are on his chest. 

Está claro que tú mereces alguien mejor

No sé en qué fallé, pero no hay otro como yo

Dime cuál fue mi error

Si mi único delito solo fue amarte

"Pues porque te pones tan nerviosa?" He whispers and you sigh. (Then why are you getting so nervous)

You feel like you can't even move but you’re not going to admit shit- you can't break that fucking easily.

Hoy soy el perdedor

Él me ha robado el truco para enamorarte

"Porque creo... que yo voy a ser el ganador. Ahora dime en donde está tu otro galán?" He pulls away and looks deep into your eyes. Fuck. (Because I think... that I'm going to be the winner. Now tell me where's your other hunk?)

"Just abandoned my ass- wait- MIGUEL- did you do something to him?!?" You mutter.

Y dime que me amas, aunque sea mentira

No puedo negarte, los celos me están matando

Y dile en su cara que aún por mí suspiras

Me parte el alma no volver a verte

"I'll answer your question if you tell me you love me." He says with a smirk making you groan.

"Miguel I'm not doing this shit with you right now-" you say trying to wiggle out of his grasp fast which you successfully do now trying your best to leave the dance floor.

But he catches up to you, grabs your arm and brings you close to him. Your back against his chest, your ass on his crotch. You bite your lip and shake your head. "Por que apenas vienes a encontrarme?" You look up at him and ask. (Why are you barely coming to find me?)

Y dime que me amas, aunque sea mentira

Sabes que no hay nadie como yo

Y dile en su cara que aún por mí suspiras

Que por mí suspiras, que no, que no, que no

Yo', baby

(Solo fue amarte) Y te hablo claro

He shifts uncomfortably for a second and looks around. "I haven't even been in our universe since the break up love...."

You turn to face him and widen your eyes. "Did something happen?" I ask with a worried expression.

¿Sabes qué?

Él no te hace el amor

No te trata bien

Y que yo fui el primero en tu vida

"I'm not telling you any more. I-I just didn't want to put your life at risk- and well I still don't." He says but it doesn't stop your heart beat from calming down.

"Y-you- can we leave?" You ask and he quickly nods. You hold onto his arm while you try to move past the crowds of people and to the exit.

You walk past the booths by the entrance and Danny was actually there- taking shots off some girl's tits. You roll your eyes and make a mental note to block his ass on everything. "So you really didn't do shit to him...." you mutter and he scoffs.

"You actually thought I did?" He responds sarcastically.

"You're insufferable." You say shaking your head trying to hide your smile.

You walk out the doors and you sigh. He takes the lead in walking you a couple blocks before he pulls up to an alleyway and you furrow your brows. He then makes sure no one is near and pushed a button on his watch so his suit can appear onto his skin. "Really? Instead of an Uber?" You tease and he rolls his eyes.

"Es más fácil." He says and motioning for you to step forward. (It’s easier)

"Claro! Lo que digas codo." You say laughing and holding onto him. (Of course! Whatever you say cheap-stake)

"Jump."

You do so and he suddenly has your legs wrapped around his waist by the side. "You know the drill cariño."

You nod and wrap your arms tightly around his neck. He swings you out and we're high up in the city. All the lights made the city look even prettier especially from up here. Though you never got use to it, the first few times you threw up after. You laugh at the memory and lean your head against his shoulder. You hear him sigh and you do so as well. You’ve missed him.

—————————

translations (lazy to drag em up)

Baby! (Why are you calling me?)

Tell me if it's true that he makes you crazy

(And what's important to you?)

I still can't believe that after such little time you're already kissing someone else

What the hell?

Tell me where I messed up

If my only error was loving you

Today I'm the loser

They've stolen my trick to make you fall in love

And tell me that you love me even if it's a lie

I can't deny you, this jealousy is killing me

And tell it to his face that you still breathe for me

My heart is splitting in two and I won't ever see you again

and tell me that you love me even if it's a lie

You can already see there is no one like me

and tell it to his face that you still breathe for me

Don't trick yourself, you know you won't ever forget me

It's clear that you deserve someone better

I don't know where I messed up but there is no one like me

Listen babe, give me another opportunity you know I'm not like this...you're the only one who can make me beg like this

Looking at myself in the mirror and fighting with my ego the further I get from you the more I think of you

Tell me where I messed up

If my only error was loving you

Today I'm the loser

They've stolen my trick to make you fall in love

And tell me that you love me even if it's a lie

I can't deny you, this jealousy is killing me

And tell it to his face that you still breathe for me

My heart is splitting in two and I won't ever see you again

And tell me that you love me even if it's a lie

You can already see that there isn't anyone like me

and tell it to his face, that you still breathe for me

Don't trick yourself, you won't ever forget me

and if that makes you want to come back to me

I'll be waiting to answer you

I know that for your part you don't feel any resentment

Maybe tomorrow you'll be back to fall in love

When we used to drink we smashed, we filmed it, and we watched it

We were two crazy people not knowing where we were going

But that is talking about destiny

As time went on you chose your path

It's clear that you deserve someone better

I don't know where I messed up

But there isn't anyone like me

Tell me what my mistake was

If my only error was to love you

Today I'm the loser

They've stolen the trick to make you fall in love

And tell me that you love me even if it is a lie

I can't deny you, the jealous is killing me

and tell it to his face, that you're still breathing for me

My heart is splitting in to, I won't ever see you again

and tell me that you love me even if it's a lie

You can already see that there is no one like me

and tell it to his face that you're still breathing for me

Because of my breaths, you're not, you're not

And you know what?

He doesn't make love to you, he doesn't treat you right, and I was the first man in your life

#miguel ohara #across the spiderverse #miguel o hara #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x y/n #spiderman 2099

[atzfilm]

APRICITY - c. jongho (m)

➼ pairing/wc; jongho/f.reader, 3.6k ➼ genre; enemies to lovers, fantasy (faeries), angst ➼ warnings; explicit smut, murder mentions, cursing

with your kingdoms having been at war for centuries, it's only fitting that you would be kidnapped and locked in the room with your sworn enemy – choi jongho.

part of the ...and it's snowing collab

-------------------------

“Being locked in a room with you isn’t exactly what I’ve planned,” you murmur, back against the corner as you stare at Choi Jongho. It is all you can do, the room tiny enough for you to only stretch out your arms and legs, a small crack for ventilation, a toilet in the corner. He has grown since you’ve last seen him as a teenager – height a bit taller than yourself, wary shoulders now solid. Brown locks grown out and over his eyes, though still holding a slightly joyous expression on his face as if he finds amusement in the situation. It only makes you grow more irritated. Out of everyone from his kingdom, he’s the last person you would want to see.

“Nor did I plan for my week to turn out this way, y/n. Wait, do you smell that?” His nose wrinkles. “Ah, it is just the odor coming from your side of the room.”

Stone-faced, you scoff, “How childish. We are barely a couple of yards apart.”

He shrugs, snickering, “You used to find me hilarious.”

“Fifteen years have passed since we were confidants, Jongho. I’m no longer a child that laughs at mediocre jokes.”

“That you are not,” he agrees, sliding down to sit on the floor.

The oppressive atmosphere in the room only seems to amplify the weight of your shared history. Jongho and yourself, heirs to the neverending feuding faerie kingdoms, trapped together in this small room. It is not something either of you chose, a rebel group forcing the two of you to occupy this space. Their end-goal is unknown, but your thoughts could only linger on one possibility - your demise. Being the heir to a kingdom has its drawbacks, including attempts of kidnapping. This time they’ve bested you, and Jongho as well.

From the moment you both drew your first breaths, you two were inseparable. It wasn't until you reached puberty that the truth was told to you by your parents, stripping away the semblance of childhood that you once had. It made sense, once you’ve thought it through. No wonder Jongho only sought you out at night, hidden in the underbrush of the thickened forest that separated your two kingdoms. No wonder his face would twist everytime you discussed your duties with him. He knew, and you never did. Jongho and you had been inseparable. Roaming the forests hand in hand, yourself unaware of the hatred that would soon grow in your own heart. The revelation was disastrous, to say the least. You broke off your friendship soon after confronting him about it.

Your thoughts linger on how the man sitting in front of you was once a scrawny teen, barely able to stand about without stumbling on something hidden in tall grass. How you two laughed together in the dark, shared secrets you’d never tell another soul. Yourself, still harboring the remnants of a childish crush, forcing your frown to deepen. You don’t know him like before, and you’re sure as Hell not willing to try now. He is meaningless to you, despite the pang of your heart each time he meets your eyes.

Jongho is an enemy, nothing more.

“Cold as usual,” Jongho looks at you, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Care to share those thoughts of yours?”

“There’s nothing for me to say to you,” you murmur. “So I’d rather remain in silence.”

“When we were young, you were talkative. You spoke more than me.”

You meet his gaze for a brief moment. How could you forget? You rarely ever stopped speaking around him, your laughter echoing around the nights you spent together. There was true happiness, back then. You wouldn’t admit that to him now, but you do miss it. "Yes, Jongho. Those days are long gone. I was naive."

Jongho grunts, frustration manifesting in the roll of his eyes, “You’re acting as if you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t! My parents told me when I was of age about what your people have done to mine. This isn’t something simple like Romeo and Juliet, Jongho. This runs deeper than that silly play.”

“Your kingdom—your people—started all of this. We were the ones that were blindsided by your deceit."

"Blindsided? This started long before any of us were born. Our friendship was doomed from the beginning. And I don’t understand why we’re talking about this when we’ll just go in circles placing blame on the other."

You stop speaking, giving him your back. Your eyes, unbeknownst to him, softened momentarily. You can remember when your heart grew seeing him, the days when you were, unburdened by the weight of your responsibility. You are to become the next royal to sit on the throne. To take on this yourself. But still, you can’t help that small feeling in yourself. What if… what if things were different? What if Jongho and you lived in the same kingdom? What if you weren’t in line for the throne?

"Remember the secret meadow? It was quite pretty when it snowed. I wonder if it's still snowing now." he asks after an hour or so has passed.

“There’s no use in thinking of those things.”

He ignores you, continuing. "The one we’ve hidden from our parents, the one we’ve met often to speak about our problems, to vent about our responsibilities? Or have you forgotten?”

Your shoulders tense for a moment. You can remember. How you’ve cried on his shoulder, sobbed even, at the words your parents told you, the people who have passed because of this war. Unable to do anything but watch.

"I remember," you admit, the crack of your voice betraying you. “You would tell me how your brothers bullied you, how your sister left you to deal with it on your own.”

“Remember when we told each other, no, promised, that despite it all, we would still be friends. We would fight for us?”

“That was before I knew.”

“y/n,” he sighs after a moment. “You told me you hated your parents, you hated the bloodshed. And I believed you. I still believe you think the same way. I didn’t tell you who I was and what kingdom I belonged to because you would have hated me.”

“I do hate you.”

“No, no you don’t.”

You turn around, meeting his eyes. He looks exhausted, eyes riddled with tiredness. More than just due to the current circumstances. Though you haven’t seen him in years, only through photographs or word of mouth, you still hurt for him. Wish that somehow, you’d be able to wipe his fatigue away. You eye the wound on his leg, before looking away.

“I do.”

He doesn’t try to correct you now, both of you knowing the truth. He adjusts himself against the wall, whispering expletives underneath his breath as his wound touches the cold, cement floor. Your eyes flick down to it, blood pooling beneath him. It will collate soon, sure, but right now it must be painful. You slip a finger into your jacket, a small wrapping of gauze and healing potion sewn into the fabric. He watches you carefully as you slide, tensing once you scoot closer to him. You hesitate, scooting closer to him. His eyes flicker with a mixture of pain and worry. You extend a hand toward his leg, watching his own grip his pants tightly.

"Let me help you," you say. You can sense his hesitation as you examine the wound, glancing at him for a brief moment. “Stay still.” You rip off a piece of your own clothing, dipping it into the potion.

Jongho watches you silently, hissing when it touches his skin. As you continue, his rigid posture begins to relax. Despite you two being enemies, despite the animosity that still hangs in the air, for this moment in time, you two silently agree to a momentary truce. The potion glows as you bound his leg with the small wrapping of gauze, your fingers light against his skin. He seems to hold his breath as he stares at you.

You don't dare look up from your ministrations. It is tough enough being this close to him, even worse, knowing that your small crush you harbored has not lessened despite the years. It is so silly, humorous even. How easily your heart is swayed being in the same room with him. You finish securing the bandage, eyes resting on his. The hardened gaze that you expect to see is anything but.

Brown eyes wide, an array of emotions displayed within them. For that brief moment, it feels as if there is nothing there between you but raw emotions. The bitter exchange you just endured, sure, but other things as well. The wonder of finally seeing your childhood friend over a decade later, the unspoken regrets. You can only imagine what your eyes are revealing to him.

"Thank you," he whispers, words carrying much more than just gratitude.

You nod, swallowing slowly. “It’s nothing.” You slide away, this time still within arm's reach.

“We’re going to die here anyway. There was no use in healing me,” he looks down, watching his skin sew itself slowly. “You could have kept that for yourself.”

“I’d rather not hear you moan and groan in pain. And I don’t want to be stuck in here with a body.” You lean back, head resting against the wall. Your body aches, your own wounds still not healed. It’s stupid to help him before yourself, but perhaps, in that fondness of his, between the anger and resentment, he’ll be able to get out of here and tell your people what happened. He was always so much braver than you, stronger. The cut on your stomach throbs as you think of it.

“Have you not outgrown your stubbornness?” he murmurs, shooting a glance at you. “Pitiful.”

“Fuck you, Jongho,” you hiss. “I heal you and you only complain.”

“I thanked you. Then I told you what a vacuous choice you’ve made when you’re sitting there pretending that you’re not hurt at all.”

“Please stop talking,” you merely sigh, pushing strands away from your face. “I cannot believe I’m going to die next to you of all people.”

“I’ve seen worse fates.”

You draw your leg back, intending to deliver a swift kick to stop. him. from. talking. But Jongho, ever perceptive, catches it with his left hand. Your eyes locked in a silent struggle, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. He does not let go when you attempt to wiggle out of his hold. “Jongho, if you don’t-”

Breaking the silence, Jongho releases your foot, a wry smile playing on his lips. "I guess some things never change. I've always been faster than you."

You snort. “In your dreams.”

“Oh?” Without another word, he hovers above you, hands resting on the wall behind you. Surely, you didn’t expect for him to do anything, especially with that leg of his. Barely a few inches apart, you look up at him, mildly shocked.

Your chest tightens, heart quickening at the lack of personal space. His knees slowly drop to the floor, body still not touching yours as his knees entrap you on either side of your body. Eyes remaining on yours. You try looking away, but he moves a hand, reaching up to your face, stilling you. His thumb is rough, years of hurt and war etched into the lines. His hold is delicate enough for you to push away.

But something makes you stay.

“You-”

He leans forward, lips a breath away from yours. "We were always more than just friends, y/n."

Your fists tighten at his words, closing your eyes for a moment. “We were only just friends.”

“You have forgotten how well my hearing is. I can hear that heart of yours beating. I know you’re lying to me. Should I let you lie this time?” he tilts his head slightly to the side, lips dragging across the curve of your chin.

You reach out, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. How easily you crumble in his presence. “You are delusional.”

“I am, aren’t I?” his laugh is heavy against your neck, lips pressing against the corner of your mouth. An invitation, a pause. Your hand pulls him closer, and he takes that as encouragement, mouth on yours in an instant. You can barely breathe with him against you, him nipping and sucking your lower lip between his teeth, sliding his tongue into your mouth. Hands pulling you back as he sits on the floor. You straddle him, hovering above his body. Careful not to sit on his leg. His hands wrapped around your hips force you down against him, a groan escaping him when your calf hits his wound.

You pull back, worried, “Jongho–”

“Fuck,” he curses, pupils back. “I want you so bad.”

“Your leg–”

“y/n, if I gave a shit about my leg I wouldn’t have let you sit on me,” he grins, lips pressing against your wrist. “Ride me.”

Your legs tighten at the prospect, waves of pleasure pulsing through you. You almost ask him to repeat what he’s just said, but he’s already nudged down his pants. You glance back at the door behind you. “Should we?”

“They come around every evening just before supper. We have time.” His fingers tug at the top of your jeans, “Please.” He breathes heavily. “Please my pretty girl.”

“Okay, okay, let’s be quick,” you slip off your pants down to your knees. Jongho waits no time, fingers sinking into you with ease. Your cunt tightens against them, hands wrapped around him piercing the skin off his back. His lips move back to yours, tongue entering your mouth the same time he pulls his fingers out. The wet sound of your arousal echoes around the small room, hips thrusting into his hand each time he enters you. “Ah, Jong–”

“You’re so wet for me, fuck,” he pulls away from your mouth, fingers leaving you. You moan, a huff escaping your lips when you feel him leave. He’s quick, spitting into his hand and stroking his length. He rubs his tip against your folds, rubbing against your clit. You press your forehead into his shoulder. A small laugh escapes him, before he presses his cock into you. His hands wrap around your hips, pushing you down fully against him. You gasp, the sudden intrusion only tightening your grip on his cock.

“Feel so good, you’re so good for me. Come on baby, bounce on my cock. Do it for me pretty.”

You slowly rise up before pressing down on him, a long moan falling from his lips, head thrown back. The pace is slow in the beginning , the feeling of him almost consuming you entirely. Jongho’s hand reaches down, thumb rubbing against your clit. You tremble, immediately sitting on his cock. After a moment of adjustment, you move up and down much quicker, moving your head off his neck to look at him. His eyes meet yours with ease, a slight smirk on his lips.

“Fuck you,” you utter, and he laughs.

“Surely you know we’re already in the middle of it?”

He grabs your body, moving swiftly. Soon, you’re against the floor, his jacket beneath you as he roughly grips your body, slamming his cock into you. You lock your legs around his hips as he pounds on you with reckless abandon. Ramming into your cunt, fingers digging deep into your flesh, surely to leave bruises. Your arms are stretched above you, resting against the wall as he drags his tip against your walls mercilessly.

“Jongho,” you whimper, his gaze moving back to yours. The look is intense, enough so that you move your gaze back to his cock pressing into you. The sound of skin on skin becoming slick as you moan against him, body moving in sync with his as his thrusts echo around you. If anyone were close, they’d hear you two now. Panting as he fucks you roughly, each look and touch of his pushing you closer to the edge. Tears slipping down your cheeks as spit pools in the corners of your mouth. He leans forward, sliding his palms down your clothed body as it rocks beneath his thrusts.

“Wish I could see all of you,” he admits after a moment, lips pressing against your cheeks, wiping away the tears with the gesture. “Wish I can do this to you every fortnight.” The sound of sex echoes throughout the room, your synced moans loud with need and desperation. Neither of you speak, wordless gasps. He presses his forehead against yours, breaths loud. His pace increases until only one or two words slip through gasp, “Come with me pretty girl, come on.” Fingers reaching between the two of you, he presses his thumb against your aching clit and moves in tight, small circles. It doesn't take much for you to fall over the edge, your body quivering and spasming beneath his fingers. He follows you promptly, cum sliding back down his now softening length still buried deep within you. You're both looking one another over, taking in the sight of him after their intense moment together.

Jongho pulls you into his chest, arms wrapped around your body. There’s not much to say to him, the arousal of the moment dwindling by each passing moment, reality slowly coming back to you. Thoughts cross your mind in an instant - your family, your kingdom. How you betrayed them in a weak moment of being in the same room as the person you shouldn’t have been with. It is not his fault, you fell for him in an instant. His body trembles against yours, breaths shuddered.

“You will go back to them even after this?” his voice is low, hesitant. “You would leave my side?”

“We have duties, Jongho-”

“Do you not love me, y/n?” He pulls away from you, sorrow filling his eyes. You can feel your heart breaking. “This was not me just fucking you, y/n. This was me making love to you. I love you. How could you not see that I always have?”

“We cannot be together. You know this. We are heirs to the throne in our respective kingdoms-”

“What if we weren’t any longer? What if… what if we abandoned our posts?”

Your skin grows cold, “What?”

“We leave our positions. We run. They have others to take our place, and we live far away from here. We enjoy each other for the first time in our lives without hesitation. We no longer have to follow silly rules or the whims of our parents. We love the way we are meant to. The way faeries are meant to, y/n. Without any troubles. We just live.”

He looks at you with hope, with adoration. With pure, unrivaled love. It would be foolish of you to deny his words, no? Nothing else is said, your hands reaching up, cupping his cheeks as you press your lips lightly against his. His laughter echoes in the small room, unbeknownst if you two will survive the next few days. Or if you’ll even live after tonight. All you two know is that you’re together, finally. And nothing, no one, would prevent that.

#fic: apricity #jongho x reader #choi jongho x reader #jongho smut #ateez smut #ateez angst #and its snowing collab

[pockettwinzz]

My Heaven - S.JY

୨୧ Warnings ୨୧ : Fluff, Angst, Toxic parents, Kissing, SFW, not proofread

୨୧ A/N ୨୧ : wrote this in a haste cause i really wanted to release smth for the weekend so I apologize if it's bad :3. Also enhypen's releasing a new version of dark moon ><

୨୧ Word count ୨୧ : 1.7k

As you sat in your new college classroom, your mind drifted away from the mundane lecture on ancient history. You couldn't help but wonder how the rest of your college experience would turn out. With your perfect 4.0 GPA from high school, you had been accepted into one of the most prestigious universities in the country. However, even though you had been top of your class and had received countless awards and accolades, it seemed that your parents were never truly happy with you. They constantly pressured you to study even harder and to strive for even greater heights.

Meanwhile, Jake, who had coasted through high school with mediocre grades and minimal effort, had been welcomed into this new university with open arms. Everyone seemed to love him, and he was constantly surrounded by a group of friends. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy as you watched him laugh and joke with them during the break.

As the semester progressed, you found yourself struggling to keep up with the workload. Your classes were more challenging than you had anticipated, and the constant pressure from your parents only made matters worse. You often found yourself staying up late into the night, hunched over your books, tears streaming down your face as you tried to understand the complex concepts and theories.

Life wasn't going how you wanted it too and seeing others, mostly Jake, sucked up to the professors, get high grades without much effort made you feel even worse. You didn't understand why your parents always thought you were useless. You tried to talk to them about it, to tell them that you were doing your best, but they never listened. They just kept pushing you harder, telling you that you could do better. You started to lose hope, to feel like you were drowning in a sea of academic expectations.

You never knew when it happened, maybe when Jake stole the first position, or maybe when he scored more marks from you on that one chemistry practical, but it was safe to say you hate him. You hated him for being so perfect, for being so loved, for being able to do everything effortlessly while you had to work your ass off to get even a B. You hated him for making your life miserable, for making you feel like you were never good enough, for making you feel like you were nothing but a burden to your parents.

One day, after yet another grueling exam, you decided that you'd had enough. You couldn't take it anymore. You walked up to Jake in the hallway, your hands shaking with anger and frustration. "Why do you get everything so easy?" you demanded, your voice quivering with emotion. "Why does everyone love you and hate me?"

Jake looked taken aback by your outburst, his perfect features twisting into a frown. "What?".

"Why does it always have to be like this?" you cried, your voice cracking. "Why does everyone always love you and hate me? I just want to be normal, just once!" You felt like you were about to burst, like all of the anger and frustration you'd been feeling for so long was building up inside of you, ready to explode. You didn't know why you were telling Jake any of this, but you couldn't help it. You needed someone to understand.

Jake hesitated for a moment, seeming unsure of how to respond. Finally, he took a step closer to you and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Look, I get it," he said softly. "It's hard sometimes, trying to live up to everyone's expectations. But you know what? You're amazing. You're smart, and talented, and you've got so much to offer. You just need to believe in yourself, okay?"

"Shut up" you snapped, shrugging his hand off your shoulder. "You don't understand anything. You've never had to struggle, never had to fight for anything." You turned away from him, anger and hurt burning in your chest. "Stop pretending to be so nice. I hate it, I hate you"

Jake let out a sigh, looking genuinely hurt. "I'm sorry if I've ever done anything to make you feel that way," he said quietly.

You turned back to him, tears streaming down your face. "It's not just you," you sobbed. "It's everyone. I'm just so tired of feeling like I'm never good enough. I'm tired of feeling like a burden." Jake's expression softened, and he reached out to wipe away a tear from your cheek.

"You're not a burden," he said gently. "And you are good enough. You're more than good enough. You just need to remember that." He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "And you know what? If it means that much to you, I'll help you. I'll help you get through this."

You looked up at him, surprised by his offer. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you want me to help you, I will. I'll study with you, or whatever you need. We can work together to get through this," Jake explained, his voice firm but gentle. "Because you're right, it's not fair. You are good enough, and you deserve to be happy. You deserve to have people believe in you."

You felt a strange sensation in your chest, like a warmth spreading through you. You didn't quite understand it, but it was nice. It was nice to feel like someone actually cared. "Really?" you asked, looking up at him. "You'd really help me?"

Jake nodded, his expression sincere. "Yeah, of course I would. We're friends, aren't we? Besides, it's not like I've got everything easy. I've just learned how to deal with it."

As tensions began to ease between you, Jake started to show you a different side of himself. He'd always been considerate and caring, but now those qualities seemed to shine brighter than ever before. He'd listen intently when you spoke, offering thoughtful advice and encouragement. He'd laugh at your jokes, even when they weren't funny, and he'd make an effort to include you in group activities. You began to feel a warmth in your chest whenever he was around.

One day, as you studied together in the library, you noticed Jake looking at you in a way that made your heart skip a beat. His eyes seemed to hold an intensity that you'd never seen before, and it made you feel both nervous and excited at the same time. As you spoke, he'd occasionally glance at you, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. It was then that you realized, with a start, that you were in love with him.

Over the next few weeks, your friendship blossomed into something deeper. The way Jake treated you, with respect and admiration, made you feel like the most special person in the world. You found yourself looking forward to spending time with him, just talking or watching a movie. The gentle way he touched your hand when he passed you a pen or the way he'd tease you about your favorite TV shows only served to intensify the feelings you had for him.

One evening, as you studied together in his room, the lights were low and the only sound was the soft rustling of pages. You were so engrossed in your work that you didn't even notice how close Jake was sitting to you. You were acutely aware of his presence, of the way his shoulder brushed against yours every time he reached for a pen or turned a page. The air between you seemed to crackle with an electricity that you couldn't quite explain.

As the night wore on, you found yourself glancing up at him more and more often, studying the lines of his face, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the way his lips moved as he spoke. You felt your heart race every time he looked at you, and you could swear that there was something different in his eyes. Something warm and intense.

You tried to concentrate on your work, but your mind kept wandering, drifting back to the way he'd been acting. You wondered if he felt the same way about you. You wondered what he would do if you confessed your feelings. A part of you was terrified of ruining your friendship, but another part of you longed for something more. Something deep and lasting. Something real.

"J-jake," you stammer, your voice barely audible over the thunder of your heart. "I-I love you." The words hang in the air between you, heavy and palpable, as if they've been weighing on your chest for far too long. You feel your face flush with embarrassment, but at the same time, there's a strange sense of relief in finally getting the words out.

Jake goes still, his eyes widening in surprise. He hesitates for a moment, searching your face, before exhaling softly and leaning in closer. His lips meet yours, tentatively at first, but with a growing intensity that takes your breath away. You can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, his hands gently cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss.

The world around you fades away as you lose yourself in the sensation of being connected to him. His taste, his smell, the feel of his skin against yours—it's all so familiar and yet so new at the same time. You moan into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, wanting more of him.

Jake responds eagerly, deepening the kiss even further. His tongue dances with yours, teasing and exploring, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel the passion building inside of you, a warmth spreading through your entire body. You never knew you could feel this way about someone, this alive, this desired.

As you break away from the kiss, your eyes meet his, and you see the love reflected there. It's a look of wonder and awe, as if he can't quite believe how lucky he is to be sharing this moment with you. He trails his fingers down your cheek, over your jawline, and to your lips again, this time softly tracing their outline.

"I love you too, Yn," he whispers. "I've loved you for a long time."

Your heart soars at his words, and you feel a newfound sense of joy and security wash over you. You realize that this is what you've always wanted, to be truly loved and cherished by someone as wonderful as Jake. You lean in and kiss him again, this time with more passion and longing, as if you could never get enough of his lips on yours.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡Permanent Taglist ༘˚⋆𐙚｡ @cha-eui @alvojake @heeslut4life @wondipity @dollywons @wonlvkay

{reply or send ask to be added Minors + blogs w/o ages DNI}

#enhypen #pockettwinzz writes #enha x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x female reader #enhypen jake #jake sim #enhypen fluff #sim jaeyun #sim jake x reader #jake x reader #jake x y/n #jake fluff #jake fanfic #jake angst #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #dividers by dollywons #moodboards by pockettwinzz #sfw

[lanabuckybarnes]

Tha gaol agam ort.

This was originally a drabble, now it’s probably a mediocre one shot but the words kept coming and my fingers kept typing.

I just wanted an excuse to boast that I’m Scottish lol. I hope you enjoy. There should be a rough translation with every word or phrase but if I’ve missed any let me know!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Scottish! Female reader

Trigger Warnings: Swearing is all! Unless you count the use of Y/N as one. Also I call Scots a dialect once, please don’t come for me my people.

Word Count: 1.9k (oh my god it’s over 1000 words!!!)

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

When Bucky had first met Y/N, he had no clue what she was saying but the confusing phrases and silly placement of random words she intrigued him. Originally just her speech had him interested but it wouldn’t stay like that.

It was only after 4 months of getting to know her, speaking to her almost everyday, whether she was happy, sad or drunk until Bucky had been confident enough to say he understood what she was saying. Most of the time.

The others though, they hadn’t a clue.

It was winter, the temperature dropping rapidly each day. The crime didn’t stop. Bucky and Y/N had just finished their patrol, thoughourly soaked to the bone from the unrelenting rain.

The doors to the elevator opened on the communial floor, Y/N popping out first with a grumpy Bucky, looking akin to a soggy cat following behind.

“Fuck me it’s baltic out there like” the thick accent boomed across the living area, the others looked at her in confusion. Bucky gazed at their bewildered faces, sighing.

“She said it’s cold”. At the translation they all gave a variation of agreement, they were thankfully Bucky had spent a lot of time around her. They needed a translator, and he needed a girlfriend.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Lover boy. Sam had started calling him around HQ and it stuck, much to Bucky’s bemusement and confusion. He didn’t see the heart eyes he’d gaze at Y/N with, after all. ‘They were just too lazy to learn’, he said to himself, pummeling shot after shot into the thick punching bag.

“Careful lover boy, you’ll knock the stuffing out of it” Sam quipped, entering the gym, his skipping ropes hung loosely over his shoulder.

“Lover boy” Bucky repeated lowly whilst sending a vicious right hook into the leather, he was thinking of Sam’s face. The nickname tasted disgustingly bitter on his tongue, Sam just laughed.

‘Lover boy? What the hell kind of name was Lover boy anyways?’ A deep scowl settling itself onto his features as he thought. He almost didn’t hear the gym door squeak open again.

“Ooft, don’t look in the fridge you’ll turn the milk sour” She giggled at her own joke. ‘Very funny Y/N’ Bucky mused in his head. His scowl worsened, if it was even possible but he failed to repress the small blush at the sound of her chuckles.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Bucky had been stuck on those words all day. The the nickname never failed to leave his head after any one of the group called him it, the foul mood it brought following it as well. The only person Bucky hadn’t chewed the head off of was Y/N. Which the others weren’t particularly surprised about.

Watching a grown man shovel cereal into his mouth was probably the most interesting thing Y/N had ever seen, sorcerers and aliens be damned. The conversation she was having with Nat and Sam fading in and out of her mind in favour of watching Bucky chew violently, throughly slaughtering the wheat O’s.

“What do you think?” Nat asked, a smile playing on her lips. She’d caught her staring at Bucky, again.

“Huh?”

“About love, Sam thinks that everyone has a soulmate but I’m not so sure. What say you?” Nat clarified, leaning forward on her chair.

“Well my granny used to say, ‘What’s fur ye, will no go by ye’ so I suppose that’s my stance” She smiled at Nat who’s jaw had dropped in utter confusion.

“Hey lover boy, translate that” Sam shouted over to Bucky, his icy gaze turned in the direction of the trio. Allowing himself to linger a little too long on Y/N’s soft features.

“Hey!” Clicking his fingers at Bucky, Sam directed his attention back to the conversation.

“She said what’s for you won’t go by you. It means if you are bound to get something you will get it”. His features turned almost deadly “and click your fingers in my face again and you’ll get what’s coming for you”

“Ok, ok. Keep the heid” (calm down) she interjected, her small hand coming up to rest on the metal of Bucky’s shoulder , her soft fingers grazing over the sensitive skin at the edge. Such a simple gesture shouldn’t have caused his heart to flutter in the way it did.

As soon as Y/N had disappeared, Nat following behind, Bucky cornered Sam in the kitchen.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” He questioned. Sam picked up on the threatening tone laced through his voice.

“Calling you what man?” He chuckled back, trying to act innocent but he crumbled, laughing at the tension.

“Lover boy.”

The sound of Bucky’s angry voice saying those words had Sam buckled in two. He laughed hard, his palm slapping against his thigh as he propped himself up with the other.

“You don’t think we haven’t seen those looks, for a grumpy old man you sure do give her the heart eyes” Sam spoke once his fit of giggles subsided.

“Banner ‘hypothosised’ you were falling in love the first time you translated for her. Not a single person in this building knows what she’s saying except you, it’s not friendship that’s making you want to learn”

Bucky’s faced was flushed red, from anger or embarrassment at being caught out? he had no clue. Probably from both.

“Steve is the least laziest man I know and even he couldn’t learn, he tried many times” Sam explained. Bucky remebered the few occasions Steve had grabbed him by the shoulder or wrist, asking what the misspelled phrases or words in his little red book had meant, phrases you’d said to him that flew over his head. Sam was right.

“Steve also had 10$ on you having a crush on her” Sam let slip, tucking in his lips as soon as the words escaped.

“You’re taking bets on me!” He hissed

“Come on man, how could we not. It was Tony’s idea” Sam was trying to save his own ass by pushing others under the bus.

“I cannot believe you” Bucky snapped before turning on his heel, he’d deal with Sam later. Right now he had to relax. His feet moved on their own, seeking out a familiar room.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Her door rattled, its hinges threatening to break if they were shuddered any longer.

“Alright keep your hair on I’m coming” she exclaimed, rushing from the bathroom with a pale green facial mask painted on her face.

“Bucky! w-what are you doing here?” She asked, embarrassment filling her body at the thought of her appearance.

He didn’t say a word, pushing past her and flopping down on her bed in a way a huffy toddler would flop to the floor if they didn’t get their own way.

“Ok then” she mumbled to herself, taking a seat next to his sprawled out body.

“Who shat in your cereal?” A normal thing for her to say, he knew she was only asking what was up. Even if her tone was a little mocking.

“Sam”.

“Oh how did I guess?” Laughing at her own words as she lay back beside Bucky, her head unintentionally resting against his inner arm.

He thought of moving, thought of whipping his arm to his side but the soft hair slightly tickling his flesh was grounding him. Allowing the anger to dissipate from his body.

“You know they keep calling me lover boy” He stated. ‘Lover boy?’ She thought. ‘Why lover boy?’.

“Why lover boy?” She asked, the question mimicking his thoughts from earlier.

“Well that’s what I asked Sam. I didn’t like his answer, not that it was much of an answer” Bucky responded, although Sam had told him bluntly he didn’t feel comfortable enough to repeat it to her.

He turned his head to watch her soft features try to determine the answer of her own question, she hadn’t even noticed his sapphire eyes watching her. With those same heart eyes that Sam had mentioned.

Gazing lovingly into the side of her head. His pupils dilated, watching every twitch of her brows, every time her eyelashes brushed against her cheek as she blinked. Every time her pink tongue peeked out to wet her plush lips.

Oh my god! Sam was right. He hadn’t just learned her dialect because of genuine interest in the meaning, but because of his interest in her.

He pulled his body up suddenly, her head flopping against the bed causing her to squeak in surprise.

“Gonnae no dae that!” (Don’t do that!) She yelped in surprise, the accent coming through thicker than ever but Bucky was far too focused on his own thoughts.

“Bucky?” She sat up as well, leaning forward almost comically to catch a glance of his frustration streaked face.

“Are you alright?” ‘Fuck that accent was distracting’ he thought. He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t keep his feelings bottled up, he didn’t want to lose Y/N as a friend but the longer the feelings festered the worse they got felt to keep hidden.

“No. I can’t do this anymore Y/N, I can’t be around you everyday, I can’t watch movies together, I can’t drink with you anymore. I can’t do anything with you anymore. Not until I’ve said what I have to say” Bucky exclaimed. He was sure he sounded angry to her but after all the pent up frustration as a result of having to keep himself from smashing his lips against hers had built up to its boiling point, he was hoping she’d understand.

“What the hell is going on?” She sounded crestfallen, the words breaking her heart. Had she said or done something wrong? Offended him in some way?

“I have spent too much time together with you, as friends. I can’t keep denying my feelings anymore, it’s hurting me physically to hold myself back. I’m borderline insane because I have to contain my thoughts of you” He took a deep breath, looking everywhere but her wide eyes.

“I love you, I have done so for a while. I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same, I mean I’m a horrible person. The things I did as the Winter Soldier to you, to everyone I’m surprised you even consider me a frie-“

He didn’t get the chance to finish his rant before she’d pulled him towards her. Stealing his lips away from his words selfishly.

The realisation of what exactly was going on clicked, he acted quickly, pulling her close. Almost too close to his own large frame. He groaned into her mouth at the feeling of her long nails scratching his scalp lightly.

His tongue poked against her mouth, fighting for dominance against her own when she let him in.

He’d never imagined he’d feel a kiss like this, not ever again but here it was. If he could’ve, he would’ve died of asphyxiation right then and there. She pulled away first, her breath heavy against his swollen mouth and reddened face.

“You’re an eejit” (idiot) She beamed, pecking his lips again.

“Tha gaol agam ort” she whispered, as if anything louder would scare him and his thoughts of her away.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, he knew a lot of phrases but this one had him stumped. She noticed the confusion in his features.

“It means I love you” she explained, tucking a loose strand of his soft brunette hair behind his ear.

“I love you too” he replied, mustering up all the passion he felt for her and squeezing it into those few words. Her eyes widened slightly, a laugh bubbling up from her throat. She tried covering her mouth but he pulled her hand away.

“What? What is it?” He smiled as well. Her giggles setting off bubbling fireworks in his abdomen.

“You have my face mask all over you”

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Ahhh, im actually proud of this. Even if it was a little selfish of me to write one with this topic.

AND it’s over 1000 words which is a big deal considering I can’t seem to stay focused for 2 minutes. I can’t wait to never write something as good as this again lol

I hope you enjoy x

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #marvel #james bucky barnes #beefy bucky fluff #marvel mcu #mcu bucky barnes

[snowandglasslabyrinth]

Damn, the Velma show really sucks. All the characters seem wrong and one-dimensional. There’s nothing funny, I genuinely laughed once and it’s because sarcasm gets me always. Also, specifically it was Velma’s line after climbing the wall to perform a break and enter into Fred’s family’s mansion.

Velma is painfully mediocre as a character, she is contradictory and evidently treats people poorly, laughs in Norville’s face when he says he has a crush on her, and just seemed really mean and poorly written. I also really hate the fat phobic jokes. That’s not right, it’s not funny, it’s just in poor taste and mean. Having it so that she eats french fries out of the garbage is insulting and just pointless. She’s got some massive crush on Fred cause he’s ‘hot’, she’s fairly shallow as a character but loves to point out (see ep. 2) that all the other characters are shallow. People in her school think she’s ugly until she wears revealing clothing, then everyone pays attention to her - in my humble but angry opinion that is a bad message to spread to young adults and teens.

Norville is a whole case, the drug references and jokes are neither funny nor entertaining and after his ridiculous and clunky line about being anti-drugs early in the first episode he pauses as if the audience needs a moment to laugh. It was awful. I get that it’s meant to be a play on the idea that Shaggy was a stoned character but that doesn’t mean it’s funny.

Daphne is vapid, and she’s always been a little bit vain (the stereotypical girl character to an extent because in the original series she was a round character full of depth) but in the show she has become a high schooler obsessed with sex who treats everyone horrifically. The obsession with sex is a thing for all of the highschool girls in the show, I don’t know who had that kind of experience in highschool but I certainly didn’t so it feels uncomfortable and inappropriate (also feels like that because they anime bubble censor a bunch of naked teenage highschool girls as they talk about sex in tv, that shouldn’t have been allowed.)

Fred is just a douche. I mean I know that’s a choice that the writers made but I strongly hate who he’s become (and yes I know I’m supposed to hate him but I think it’s supposed to be because he’s a jerk not just because he’s poorly written uninteresting and a man child that acts like a stereotypical ‘macho’ man). And the amount of times he calls himself a ‘puss’ is annoying and, unfortunately for the show, still not funny, so only sarcasm points for comedy right now.

Some side character notes: Velma’s dad’s girlfriend is an awful and boring stereotype. The show leans on cliches and stereotypes heavily I.e. any character in that show practically. The other students are boring and not memorable. There’s a moment where Fred stands up for Velma and accidentally cuts a student’s foot off, reminiscent of the comedy in those bad adult cartoons that are overpopulating Netflix right now (Paradise PD, Hoops (is that what it’s called?) and others). If I didn’t mention other characters it’s because I don’t remember they exist.

Okay tl;dr the show sucks, it’s not funny, I loved Scooby Doo as a kid so this hurts me, I hate what they’ve done with the characters.

So, I know I usually don’t make my own posts or write reviews but I literally got 10 minutes into the second episode and had to stop because it was bad, very bad. The first episode was bad enough but I thought I would torture myself and then I gave up because I just couldn’t anymore. Thanks for reading all of this if you have, and don’t watch Velma.

:)

#scooby doo #velma show #Velma #hbo max

[olderjustneverwiser]

For the Hope of It All

Steve Harrington x fem reader. WC: 11K.

A story about old friends and a summer romance in Italy. Set roughly 10 years post season four (so mid-nineties? Yeah, let's go with that). Inspired by august by Taylor Swift and those Joe Keery Italy pictures.

Warnings: Smut, MDNI. Talks of death of a parent, discussions of leaving a toxic relationship (nothing is specified though). Not really a happy ending so if that's not your vibe consider this your warning.

The Playlist

June

Salt air, and the rust on your door

I never needed anything more

The day started as most of your off days did; with a steaming cup of coffee at your favorite little café down by the shore. You had found this gem just after moving to Italy, its gorgeous patio and delicious coffee had cemented itself as one of your most frequented spots in town. It had become somewhat of a custom over the past few years, to have your morning coffee with only the salt air and sea birds to keep you company.

It could be lonely at times, but it beat sipping mediocre coffee in an empty apartment.

May had just turned into June, though, so your part of the world was quickly becoming overrun with tourists on holiday, and it seemed like every single one had managed to find your favorite spot away from the tourist traps. The outdoor seating area had filled quickly given the nice weather, so it really came as no surprise when a voice broke you from your reverie, asking if they could take the empty seat across from you. What did surprise you was the voice that spoke. It was a voice you hadn't heard in nearly five years, since you left the backwater town you grew up in to get away from it all, from your fucking ex that drained the life out of you.

You almost didn't believe that you had heard it correctly, but you knew you did. You'd recognize that voice anywhere, even after all this time had passed. Once you turned your gaze away from the sea, what you knew to be true in your heart was confirmed.

The man was sun-kissed, with wild, windswept hair and a glittering smile that only widened when you turned to face him. Once he pulled his sunglasses away from his eyes and pushed them into his hair, you knew.

Steve fucking Harrington. 

Steve, once King Asshole Steve of Hawkins High, was in front of you, halfway around the world from Indiana. Steve, your good friend, confidante, partner-in-crime, first crush. Steve, who you left back in Hawkins, along with everyone else you cared about, because you just couldn't handle how suffocating the small town was or seeing him around town.

Steve fucking Harrington was standing right in front of you for the first time in years and you didn't know how to feel about that.

You almost had to laugh at the absolute absurdity of it all. Why the hell was he even in Italy? How, in all of the places in the world, had Steve managed to find you here? Was this planned, or a chance meeting? Pure happenstance, or fate? 

You had so many questions.

God, he was stunning. He still looked like the kind of men you'd read about in cheesy romance novels. Older, of course, and more filled out, but still looked like Steve. Soft, suave, too handsome for his own good. He looked golden, dangerous. 

He still looked like a heartbreaker.

His face morphed into something else once he noticed that it was you, a mix of surprise and pure elation as he whispered your name, seemingly to himself. Almost like he couldn't believe it either.

"In the flesh," you replied, a joking lilt in your voice because you just couldn't fucking believe this.

"Oh-oh my God!" His outburst seemed to bother the patrons around you, but neither of you really cared when you grabbed the hand he reached out to you, only to be pulled up into a crushing embrace. 

He smelled different than you remembered. A different cologne, more manly now, more comforting.

Dangerous.

Steve pulled away after a beat, but he didn't retreat completely. His hands moved from their spots around your frame only to land on your arms, like he didn't want to let you go yet.

For some reason, you didn't want him to let go either.

"What the hell are you doing here, Harrington?" 

Steve finally released you completely then, taking the seat across the tiny wooden table from the one you had occupied. You followed suit, allowing yourself to really look at him.

The years had been kind to him, that much was obvious. There were a few barely-there wrinkles around his eyes, a scar or beauty mark here and there that wasn't there before, but he still held the boyish charm he always had.

He still looked like your Steve. 

He seemed to realize that he'd yet to give an answer at the same time you did, so he just shook his head, ran his hands down his face like he couldn't believe this was happening, either.

"Sorry, I just- fuck. Can't believe I found you."

"Ah, so you were trying to find me," you said, taking a sip of your now lukewarm coffee to hide the smile that threatened to break.

Steve just shook his head, "I've actually been in Italy for a few weeks now, kinda a spur of the moment trip, y'know?"

You really didn't, but you supposed Harrington money could afford a month-long spontaneous vacation to Italy.

He continued on, "I started out in Rome and have just been kinda moving along. I knew you lived here, from your letters, so I wanted to come and see if I could find you. Turns out luck was on my side."

That explanation gave you even more questions than answers, but you let it rest for now.

"Well shit, Steve. I guess it was." You couldn't help but feel like this was meant to happen, somehow. Out of all of the little cafés and restaurants in this town, he'd turn up at the one you came to every weekend.

Definitely fate, or something like it.

"Why don't we talk about it over dinner tonight? Catch up on everything?" He asked, charm oozing out of every bit of him, and you wondered if this was how all of the girls felt when Steve Harrington asked them out. Pure butterflies and wildflowers in your chest, fluttering and blooming before you could blink. 

Something told you that letting Steve Harrington back into your life would be exhilarating, saccharine, all-encompassing. The summer would allow you to feel alive for the first time in years, while leaving you heartbroken at the inevitable end.

You should have heeded the warning signs; the small part of your brain telling you to stay friendly, but that was it. To not let him grow like ivy on your heart. To entertain him for a week or so then send him on his way because you had left your feelings for him back in Hawkins years ago, back before your heart got stolen away by someone else. You were fine, had been fine until he waltzed back into your life, looking like that and stirring up feelings that were long gone.

But if you were being honest with yourself, the thought of not being with Steve for as long as he'd stay hurt so much more than how it would feel when this would inevitably end in tears.

-

You took Steve to Ke Palle for dinner on that first night.

It quickly became one of your favorite restaurants ever since you moved, and Steve hadn’t been, so it was perfect. It was busy given that it was a Saturday evening, so you and Steve took your arancini to-go, got a bottle of wine at a shop across the way, and settled at a small table the two of you found near the water. The large red umbrella made the late afternoon sun just a little more bearable as the two of you ate, drank, and caught up on everything you had missed over the last few years. Once your bellies were full and the bottle of wine was near empty, you once again found yourself examining Steve in between conversations. 

It was odd, seeing him again. Sure, your friend group had exchanged a couple of pictures over the years but seeing him in person again was entirely different. He had matured since the last time you had been together. There was something in his eyes, a look that told you that he had grown up more than you knew. It told you that he definitely wasn't King Steve anymore; that he had seen shit, been through shit, and that he was a man now.

As the sun began to set around you, you noted the flecks of gold in his hair, the little highlights mixed in with the brown that you had never noticed before. You noticed that you missed seeing his eyes, given that they were currently shielded by his sunglasses, and you hated that you missed something like that. You definitely noticed how his arms filled out the navy tee he was wearing, how big his hands looked curling around his pack of cigarettes-

He cleared his throat and you turned away, embarrassed that he had caught you staring. But hell, how could you not, when he looked like that? The asshole smiled at you then, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking, when he pulled out a lone cigarette from the pack. "Want one?"

"Definitely not. You know how bad those things are for you, right?" You chastised.

"Still hate that I smoke, huh?"

"I'll always hate that you smoke, Steve. Keep it up and you'll fuck up that pretty face, and you know that's your best feature."

He just shook his head and chuckled, gave you a look that said, wanna bet? "Enough about my bad habits, tell me about life and all that."

You told Steve about your life; things that went farther than letters sent across an ocean could handle. You told him about the winery you worked at in town, about how stressful running the place could be, but you enjoyed it anyway. You talked about your favorite coworkers and about how the tourists got to be too much sometimes. Later on, after he indulged and bought another bottle of wine to share, you apologized for leaving Hawkins, that you hated to leave but you wanted more than Hawkins could ever offer, and that you just had to after finally mustering the courage and self-confidence to leave your ex. 

Steve asked if you were dating anyone. You tried not to read into it too much as you gave a definitive 'No'. It was impossible to tell if the flush on his cheeks was from the red wine he'd drunk or from your answer, but you hoped it was the latter.

"Enough about my nonexistent dating life," you said as you waved a rogue cloud of cigarette smoke away from your face, "Tell me about home, how's everyone?"

He shrugged noncommittally before answering. "Everything's good, Robin's good, Eddie's kid is hell on wheels, but she's awesome. Nancy is still livin’ it up in New York. Job is good, those little middle school fuckers drive me crazy, but I love them."

"Still teaching then?"

He nodded, "Yeah, still teaching the youth the joys of dodgeball and how to hold a baseball bat. Pay's not the best but, you know, it's fun. Rewarding, I guess." He was holding something back; even after being apart for so long you could tell there was something he wasn't telling you.

"Yeah, but you don't gotta worry about money, right? You're a Harrington."

The laugh that left him was devoid of humor. Instead, it held something like contempt. It almost sounded hollow. "Yeah, guess not. Especially now, since my dad left us a fortune." He sighed at the confused look on your face and continued on "My dad, uh, died back in April."

You felt your eyes widen in shock, you definitely did not expect that and you hated that you didn't know what to say, "Oh my God Steve, I'm so sorry. Why didn't you say anything?"

Steve just shrugged, "He was a dick."

"He was your dad, Steve."

"Yeah, and he didn't even like me," Steve said the words like they didn't phase him, and you wondered if they secretly did. "Anyway, I guess his life insurance had a pretty high payout. Left us with a pretty penny that my mom split with me. She sold the house in Loch Nora and left Hawkins. I had to get away from everything, so I took the rest of the school year off, and now I'm here with you. Seems like a perfect trade-off to me" He finished with a smirk.

"Steve…"

He took your hand in one of his then, dwarfing your own, "Hey, seriously, I'm fine. And if I'm ever not fine, you'll be the first person I tell, okay? I promise." His eyes were sincere, and suddenly you felt like you were eighteen again, Steve confiding in you that Nancy had dumped him and called him bullshit. You had missed the way the two of you had confided in each other back in Hawkins, but it was your fault that you hadn't had the chance to do that again, you figured. 

"Anyway," Steve leaned back, continuing like he hadn't just dropped that huge bomb on you, "I'm glad I found you. I missed you, y'know."

"Yeah, missed you too. This is nice."

"You look good, by the way. Polaroids don't do you justice." Your cheeks burned at his words. They sounded innocuous, innocent, but you could tell how he meant them by the way he looked at you when he leaned back in his chair, took another puff of a second cigarette he had pulled out of the pack.

Still, you gave a roll of your eyes, tried to pretend like his words didn't affect you at all. "Still a flirt, huh Harrington?"

"Hey, I'm just saying! The sea suits you, is all."

"Yeah, I suppose it does. Think it's done me some good over the years." You were quiet for a beat, just long enough to appreciate how the setting sun bathed Steve in its golden light. "You look good too, obviously."

Steve gave you some noise of acknowledgement, taking one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray. "I think I've had enough sun for one day. You wanna get outta here?"

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets

You felt like you were floating as you and Steve raced through the town to get to your apartment. It almost felt like a dream, the thought that something was about to happen. Neither of you had explicitly said that anything was happening once you got upstairs, but you could feel it. It was like an electric current in the air, something between your fingertips as he held your hand in his during the walk. Steve could feel it, too. You could tell by the way his eyes were a little wild the entire walk home, how tightly he held onto your hand.

You willed yourself to calm down as the two of you neared your building; your heart pounding against your rib cage. Part of you was nervous that you'd hyped this up so much in your head that the real thing would be a disappointment, but you knew that wouldn't be the case. No, you were scared that this would ruin you for anyone else.

Because this was Steve you were talking about. There was history here, secrets shared and experiences that had bonded you two for life, no matter how far apart you were. And the way Steve looked at you as you unlocked your front door and stepped into your living room, as if you were the only thing he wanted to see for the rest of his life, solidified the simple fact that you were going to be fucking ruined after this.

You didn't care.

He watched as you set your keys and bag down on the small table in your entryway before leaning back against your door, smoothing down the front of your sundress to calm your nerves because it had been so long since you had done this. Steve seemed to sense your nervousness by the way he leaned into you, softly, a finger tracing down your arm with just enough pressure for you to feel it. "You okay?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm great. Just been a while, that's all." If he noticed the goosebumps that erupted from his touch, he didn’t comment on it.

He nodded, his gaze softer now than it had been at dinner, "Yeah, been a while for me, too. Y'know we don't have to do anything, right? If it's too soon or whatever."

Maybe it was too soon, because while you and Steve had been friends for years, the two of you were so different than you were years ago. Different people at different stages in your lives. Different continents. Hell, you hadn’t even been in the same room as each other for half a decade. But you still knew Steve, still felt the same comfort and security you’d always felt with him. 

It might have been too soon, but in this moment, it felt like a long time coming. It felt like it was always going to happen, at some point. And there was nothing you wanted more.

"I know, but I want to. I really want to, if you do."

"Are you sure?" He whispered, his mouth now close enough to yours that you could smell the hints of smoke still on his breath and the spearmint gum he chewed on the way.

You wanted to reach out, to touch him, but all you could do was curl your hands into fists before flattening them out on the tops of your thighs again. Fingertips tingled, wanting to mirror the path he was making on your arm, trace the veins on his forearm. You held back, almost scared to pop this little bubble the two of you seemed to be in. You wanted to kiss him, really wanted to kiss him. It would be too easy to close the small gap that still lingered between you and finally find out what he tasted like, but you waited. It was torture, but you waited.

"Yeah, of course I'm sure. Are you?"

The nod of his head was earnest, his eyes refusing to leave yours as his fingers abandoned their path along your arm only to find purchase on your jaw, his thumb barely tugging on your bottom lip before finally pressing his lips to yours. 

It was a desperate sort of kiss, the kind that made your toes curl in your sandals and your hands wind in his hair, if only to pull him even closer. Steve pressed into you then, and the feeling of his weight against you had little moans leaving your mouth, which Steve took full advantage of, licking into your mouth when your lips parted.

You didn’t know why it felt so natural, kissing Steve, but it felt like both a first kiss, and a kiss that you had shared a thousand times. Somehow, it felt like this had to happen, because Steve had drawn you in and he was yours and you were so, so ready to fall. Face first, all in, into whatever this was, whatever this would turn out to be. Still, you tried your hardest to sear the feeling of him into your mind. How his kiss tasted, how he sounded, how it felt to have his body pressed against yours like this in case this one a one time thing.

You really, really hoped it wasn't a one time thing.

He let his hands wander, dropping them to squeeze at your waist, letting his mouth wander, too. He moved to your jaw, down to your throat and you felt him smile against your skin when you gasped.

You felt one hand snake down your dress to the side of your thigh, his hand spreading wide, ghosting a path beneath the hem until his fingertips found the edge of your underwear. You felt him shift against you, just slightly, only to continue his path to your front and press into you. It was pathetic, really, the noise that came out of you from just a simple touch.

“Like that, pretty?” Steve cooed, using the same finger to trace up and down over the thin fabric, “Saw you staring at my hands earlier. You wanted me to touch you like this, hmm?”

You tried to roll your eyes, but he pressed harder into you making you feel the wetness sticking to you and you could only close them, letting out a huff, "Are you always this annoying during foreplay?"

He just smirked, his fingers never stopping, "Only with you." He leaned in closer, leaving a peck just below your ear. "Besides, I think you like it." 

You did roll your eyes at that, taking hold of his forearm to stop him, tired of his teasing, "Steve, shut the hell up and take me to the bedroom."

The moment the two of you were in your bedroom, Steve had you pushed against the nearest bare wall he could find before kissing you again. His hands roamed your neck, your waist, the curve of your hip and you felt him everywhere. It was like a live wire running through you, from your lips, red and kiss bitten to the tips of your toes.

His hands found the hem of your sundress again, and he started to ask if he could take it off but you cut him off, answering with a breathless 'yes'. He backed up from you, just enough for you to loosen the zip on the side and let it fall to the floor around your feet. You felt warm under his gaze, him mapping out skin he hadn't seen. You felt too exposed, given that he was still fully dressed, but he was back on you in a second, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

"So fuckin' pretty," He praised, pulling your underwear to the side, let his fingers glide through your folds without the offending barrier before sinking one, then two fingers into you.

The smirk he was wearing quickly disappeared once your breaths turned to moans as his fingers worked you, in and out, long enough to hit that spot and have you feeling close to bursting. His jaw went slack, his cheeks a little flushed and he finally looked as affected as you. 

You scrambled for his shoulders for some sort of stability, nails pressing through his shirt when he crooked his fingers into you, making your breath hitch in your throat. 

"Fuck, that's it, huh? Feel good?"

You only nodded, already feeling dizzy. You let your head hit the wall as he worked you, eyes closing and getting lost in the feeling of him, here with you, against you. 

But you wanted more. You wanted him. 

“Steve, please,” you pleaded, your hands grazing down his abdomen until you reached his belt buckle. “Want you.”

His shirt was thrown near your bed post, his belt clinked as it hit the floor along with his pants, neither of you really caring where they landed. He was on you again, kissing you until you both crawled into bed, his mouth on your jaw, your collarbone until he reached the edge of your bra, mouthing at the fabric before unclasping it and throwing it to the floor. You were impatient, dragging your underwear down until you were fully bare and his lips parted; his eyes devouring you before reconnecting his mouth to yours.

After that, it didn’t take long for him to rid himself of his boxers, slip on a condom and push into you slowly. Teasing, controlled, trying to drag out the moment because you felt fucking fantastic around him. He stilled once he was buried inside you, interlacing your fingers with his and pressing your hands into the bed as you moaned into his neck. You clenched around him at the tender gesture, silently begging him to move by curling your legs around his waist. 

“Fuck, you feel - God - fucking amazing,” he grunted, eyes squeezed shut as he moved against you.

“Steve,” you keened, relishing in how he looked on top of you, blissed out and slick with sweat. How he felt against you, inside of you. How each drag of him made you feel that familiar hook in your belly, like a string pulled tight, stretched, close to snapping. A release building. 

“Yeah? You close?” he asked, fingertips digging into the softness of your hips and he'd sounded close himself. Your breath hitched, back arched prettily because he'd dropped his hand between you, thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit.

"Yeah, Steve yeahyeah," you twisted your fingers in his hair, hips lifting to meet his every thrust until you snapped, your orgasm ripping through you, making you tremble against him. It was enough to send him over his edge, his hips faltering as he came, his face buried in your neck to muffle his groan.

The night seemed quiet then, the sounds of skin on skin and dirty praise whispered between you gave way to your combined breaths, slowly evening out. The air smelled like sex and Steve; smoke and mint, a hint of the salty sea air. You felt calm, peaceful, so, so content with Steve next to you. 

And that was how your summer began.

-

You were vaguely aware of fingers tracing down the length of your back and the smell of fresh coffee invading your senses, but you were so warm and soft and relaxed and did not want to leave the dreamlike state you were currently in. But then you felt soft kisses to your shoulder, a murmur against your hair that made your eyes open to see Steve, mussed up hair and still shirtless from the night before, with a steaming mug of coffee in his hands.

He looked like a damn dream.

"Morning, sleepy. Coffee's on your nightstand, just a splash of cream and sugar, right?"

You nodded, finally making yourself sit up against your headboard and grab the mug from your bedside table, "How'd you remember that?"

Steve only shrugged, crossing the room to take his side of the bed again. You hadn't taken a look at your bedside clock yet but it had to be early morning, considering how the sunlight slipped through the open blinds. The light painted Steve's torso in bright stripes of light; his tan skin looking even more stunning in the sunshine. This whole scene felt almost too domestic. The two of you, drinking coffee in a comfortable silence, Steve leaning over ever so often to press a kiss to your shoulder, your cheek. 

It felt nice. It felt normal.

But you knew it couldn't last. You and Steve were friends, good friends, and he was just passing through, traveling through Italy to find himself, or whatever he was doing. The thought made you ache, but it was the reality. 

Clearing your throat, you started to ask the question, rip off the band-aid. "So, when do you think you'll move on from my part of the world?"

"Actually, I was thinking about sticking around for a while, if you'll have me." Steve said the words a little shyly and they lit a little spark of hope that bloomed in your chest. You knew it wouldn't be forever, that the end would come, but for now, you had him.

"I don't think I'd mind that at all, Harrington."

July 

The summer was a whirlwind, and you loved every second of it. 

Your back beneath the sun

Wishin' I could write my name on it

You still went to work everyday while Steve did his travels, sometimes taking day trips out of town for the day and then coming back to your apartment at night. He'd show you the photographs he'd taken, letting you pick one or two to keep for yourself. 

Sometimes he would join you when you went out with your friends. Your friends had promised to help you show Steve all of the best spots. The two of you would join them for drinks and dancing some nights, other nights opting to go on your own, then crawl home and end up back in your bed sheets before ending the night.

And then you'd do it all over again the next day. 

On the weekends, you'd let Steve pick a new city to see, and the two of you would spend a night or two. You had explored Cinque Terre, saw the canals in Venice (which Steve correctly decided were too touristy), and Steve even treated the two of you to a few days near Tuscany after you agreed to play hooky that following Monday. 

You felt like you were twenty again. Back in Hawkins, hanging with Steve and the gang. Swimming in the Harringtons’ pool, picnics at the lake, settling down with take-away pizza and a movie on quiet nights in. Weekend drives to Indy for rock shows that Eddie dragged you all to, stopping at the same all-night diner after for fries and milkshakes. It was familiar, it was lovely. 

Having one of your old friends back made you feel lighter. Besides the company and great sex, it was nice to just have someone from Hawkins here. Someone you grew up with, who knew you inside and out. Someone you felt comfortable with, someone you trusted with your life.

It made grueling work days a little easier, made coming home a little more fun but the days were slipping away too fast. July was ending, but it still felt like the beginning of June and Steve had just landed back into your life. It really was cruel, how quickly time starts to pass you by the older you grew. Especially when you didn’t want it to. When you needed it to slow down. 

You wondered if Steve felt the same. If the days he spent without you, doing whatever he was doing in whatever little towns he found, were ending too fast. Was he excited to go back to Hawkins, to his students and the friends you had left behind?

More importantly, when was he going back?

The two of you hadn’t talked about it; you didn’t have the time. You hadn't even talked about what the two of you were doing, as if kissing one of your best friends goodbye every morning and fucking them before bed was normal. In all honesty, you didn’t want to talk about it. Because talking about it would make it real, and you were perfectly happy with living in blissful ignorance for now. Seeing as July was coming to a close, the end would come soon enough, anyway.

-

Another work week had just ended for you, and since you had the next few days off, you and Steve were currently lazing on your couch, coming up with ideas for how to spend the weekend. 

The two of you bounced ideas back and forth to one another over a shared bottle of wine, none of them ever feeling quite exciting enough. Suddenly he looked at you, snapping his fingers like he had just thought of the perfect idea, “How about we rent a boat?” 

“Excuse me?” You couldn’t help the way your voice squeaked at that, because who just thinks to rent a fucking boat on a whim?

“Not like a big boat, just a boat. You know, take it out in the water, cool off in the sea. Any place we can rent a boat over here?”

You squinted at him across your sofa, “I forgot you know how to handle a boat. You really are the definition of a rich boy cliché, you know that?”

“Oh shut up,” he muttered, but the fondness in his eyes told you that he didn’t really mean it. “So, whaddya say?”

And that’s how the next morning found the two of you waking up with the sun, Steve cooking a light breakfast while you packed a cooler with sandwiches, fresh fruit, and a big canteen full of limoncello. You took a cab to the ritzy part of the town, the part with the towering, expensive resorts and private beaches. You’d figured it would be the perfect place to get what Steve was looking for, and it turns out that you were right.

It wasn’t a big boat, but definitely enough room for you and Steve. You watched from the docks as Steve spoke with the worker, noting that the little Italian you’d managed to teach him was coming out of his mouth with ease. You wondered how it felt to be such a natural at damn near everything, how Steve could just pick up anything and be a pro.

Soon, the boat was yours for the day and you and Steve were off, Steve quickly shedding the linen button down he’d put on due to the hot sun. You had to admit, this was lovely. The waters were calm, the sun warmed your skin and you got to watch Steve work, looking like a natural behind the controls (and if you had stolen the disposable camera out of his bag and snapped a few pictures of him, shirtless and a cigar hanging from his lips, well, that was your business). Briefly, you wondered where he was taking you, if he even knew himself, but you found that you really didn’t care. The waters were a beautiful, deep blue, all around you, surrounded by gorgeous coastlines and away from everything else. You let yourself lay back and relax, focusing on the sound of Steve humming some song he knew as you closed your eyes and let yourself drift. It could have been minutes, maybe an hour, but eventually you came to a secluded shoreline that was more rocks and cliffs than beach, and he was beginning the process of anchoring down.

“Pretty spot, huh?” He said through a grunt as he lowered the anchor down.

You nodded, “Yeah, how’d you know this was here?”

“Guy working the docks mentioned something about this. He said there probably wouldn’t be many people here but damn, it’s nice not having anyone here.” He looked around, hands on his hips in an approving stance before he turned to look back at you, “Wanna cool off?”

Once Steve confirmed that the boat was secured, you shed the tank and shorts you were using as a cover-up and jumped into the cool water, Steve quickly following suit. The cold was a shock to your heated skin, but you welcomed it, taking your time to float back to the surface. Once you reached the surface you wiped the water from your eyes to look for Steve, only to find him right behind you in the water, hair an absolute mess and a hand reaching out for you. You took it, allowing Steve to pull you to him until you were settled in his lap, both of his arms around your waist to keep you flush against him. 

Steve smiled at you then, squinting a little under the bright summer sun. "Hey, sweetheart." 

"Hi," You answered back, winding your arms around his neck before kissing him, just because you wanted to. Just because you could. 

His eyes were softer when you pulled back, his grip a little tighter as if he was scared you'd float away if he wasn't careful. But soon after you noticed it, it was gone, replaced with a look of mischief you remember all too well.

"Steve, what're you-" before you could finish your sentence he'd maneuvered your legs from around his waist, grabbing handfuls of your thighs and throwing you back under the water. 

You were met with the cackle of Steve's laugh once you fight your way out again, "Way to ruin the moment, jackass."

"We'll make more," he told you, still smiling and you couldn't help but smile with him, not even minding when he lunged for you and pulled you under again, you taking him under, too. 

The hours passed, and the splash fights under the hot sun made you both crave the lunch you packed sooner than later. You swam back near the shore together, Steve making his way back to the boat to grab the cooler while you headed to a large, flat rock that looked suitable for lounging near the water.

The two of you were quiet as you ate, side by side, thighs touching as he peeled your oranges for you and you split your sandwich with him. Nostalgia hit you like a freight train, and you remembered sitting on the edge of Lover’s Lake some time in your very late teens, you and Steve in this exact same position, eating Pringles and candy while you two talked about life and what the two of you wanted to be.

Part of you wondered, back then, if you and Steve would ever be something more. If you could ever stop being scared and tell him how you felt about him, if he would feel the same. But Steve still seemed hung up on Nancy and you were scared, because Steve was a good friend, and he was Steve and the thought of not having him in your life hurt. So, you stayed quiet, met your business professor in your second year at Hawkins Community College, and fell in love. 

Or maybe lust, or just some false sense of security. Because he was an older guy, stable and sophisticated. He called you pretty and made you feel good and safe, enough to give everything up and make him your world. What a colossal fucking mistake. 

Needless to say, you and Steve never became anything more until now. Now, sitting beside him on a beautiful cliff in Italy, you wondered if you could have been more. If you would have told him then, would he have surprised you, told you he felt the same and kissed you breathless?

Would everything be different today?

“How’d you decide on this place?” Steve asked you suddenly, effectively breaking you from the thoughts spiraling in your brain.

“You mean Italy?” When he nodded, you replied, “I knew I hated Hawkins and I hated seeing my fucking ex everywhere, so I needed to leave. We had talked about coming here, maybe for a honeymoon or something. I always thought the pictures looked so pretty, so I came. Leaving you guys was hard as fuck, though. The hardest thing I've ever done."

Steve looked at you then. Something in his gaze told you that he wanted to say something else, but he settled for, “I was proud of you for leaving, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“For sure. I mean, I’m still proud of you for getting out when you did. Wish you would have never even met that asshole, but y’know, I’m glad you did what you wanted to do. I’d say you picked a good place, though. I like it here. Can see why you love living here so much.”

There it was again, that little bit of hope that just kept growing and growing. The hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d get out of Hawkins, too. It was a pipe dream, you knew it, but that small fact didn’t squash whatever was blooming. But then:

"Even though I was also super bummed when you left. You know, I had a huge crush on you."

What?

"Wait, what?" You exclaimed, turning your body to face him because what a fucking bombshell.

He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly shy under your wide eyes. "Yeah, had a crush for a while, even when you were, uh, with that guy. Just never had the guts to tell you."

"Steve, I liked you too!" You whined, "I always thought you wanted Nancy! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" He countered, sounding flustered as ever. "I mean, I did still want Nancy, y'know, after we broke up, but that didn't really last long. Not after we started hanging more."

You groaned when you let your head fall into his shoulder, "Dammit Steve, you mean we could have been doing this when I was still in Hawkins?" Your mind was racing, your heart felt like it was about to beat right out of your chest. The missed opportunities and what ifs flew through your mind at the thought, and it nearly made you sick. Because for so long, having Steve as you did back in Hawkins was enough for you, but God you wanted so much more. And now you knew that you could have had it.

The thought that Steve could have been yours for so much longer than these fleeting summer months, that maybe if one of you would have actually had the guts to speak your mind, everything would be different. Maybe you two would have been together. Hell, the two of you may have even been married by now, with one or two little Harrington spawn running rampant all over Hawkins.

The thought made your heart hurt.

"Yeah, guess we could've been," he said it more to himself than to you and it sounds a little like regret. You were both quiet as you sat there, your forehead to his shoulder and his hand on your bare back. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing you were, wondering where you went wrong, how you could be so stupid.

You wondered what this revelation meant for the two of you. 

August

The month of August was one of the best you could remember. 

August slipped away into a moment in time

'Cause it was never mine

After working overtime for the first two weeks of the month, you had managed to convince your boss to let you take your summer holiday during the last two weeks of August. It was normally unheard of, since most of the continent was on summer holiday and it was still peak tourist season, but you somehow managed to convince him that your second in command could handle the winery for a couple weeks. 

Begrudgingly, he agreed. 

Steve was set to leave on the last day of the month, since the school year was beginning just after the start of September. While you didn’t understand how that would leave him with enough time to get himself ready for the new school year, you didn’t question it. 

You had your friend for a little longer, and that’s all that really mattered to you.

Steve had insisted that the two of you do something fun for your last weeks together, promising to foot the bill and make it memorable for the both of you. After too many pretend arguments that almost always ended in kisses and one of you underneath the other in your bed, the two of you landed on Barcelona. It was freeing, to pack a bag and just leave for a good reason this time, with a good man with good intentions by your side. 

You and Steve went without a plan, apart from Steve booking The Serras Hotel for you both. It was a lovely old building, with bed linens softer than any fabric you'd ever felt in your life and a perfect view of the water from your room. 

If you didn't know any better, you'd think Steve was trying to impress you.

Your days were spent consuming your weight in paella and sangria, then walking it off in the city, only to find more delicious food in the evenings. Dancing the nights away at whatever little night club you walked by that looked interesting. Going to the beach, then deeming it entirely too overrun by people, then opting to go back and spend the day at the rooftop pool instead. You did whatever you wanted, or whatever Steve wanted, with no rules and it was some of the best times you could remember. 

Near the end of your trip, you and Steve decided to spend the day trying to find the Sagrada Familia simply by wandering the city. Steve had said that "It's such a tall, pointy building, how hard could it be to find?" And who were you to argue with that very sound logic?

It turned out, finding a 'tall, pointy building' was, in fact, very difficult when you were on the ground and literally every building around you was a tall building.

The two of you wandered for hours, stopping for a quick lunch only to walk some more. Your legs were tired, your back ached (Steve tried to carry both his bag and yours, but you shut him down every time). Near two in the afternoon, you were tempted to beg him to just get a fucking cab, but you didn't really mind because Steve never let go of your hand for the entire walk, and he never stopped trying to make it all a little more bearable. And God, it worked. He didn't even have to try to make you smile, really. He just had that effect on you now.

It was that day that you realized something very important, and very fucking terrifying. 

That day, as you were both sweaty and sticky, tired from walking and not minding one bit because Steve was by your side, you realized that you had fallen in love with him over the summer. 

Or had you fallen back in love? Had the love you felt for him in Hawkins ever really left you? You thought that it had, because it had been years. Years of a failed love with someone else, of moving to a different country and leaving everything you knew behind. You thought that the mark Steve left on your heart had faded away long ago, but now, you weren't so sure it had ever left.

Sometimes you swore you could see it in his eyes, too. Not just lust, but some sort of adoration that went far beyond the bedroom or the realm of friendship. You thought you saw it in the way he held you at night, the way he never let go of your hand in the busy city streets. It wasn't just Steve being Steve; no, there was something else there. Something else beyond the nice gestures and sweet smiles. 

You almost asked him about it countless times. If his feelings for you lingered like yours did. If they were somehow found again over the summer, or you were just making things up in your head. 

But once again, you were too scared. You never did ask.

On the last night of your stay, you were both tired of the sweaty nightclubs and busy streets, so you opted for walking down to the beach to get away from the tourists instead. 

The beach was peaceful as you spread a blanket out onto the cool sand. It was almost empty, save for the random passerby every now and then. The only sounds were the soft crashing of waves, the distant sounds of the city, and Steve’s voice in your ear as the two of you talked about the trip, the summer, what to eat for breakfast before heading back to the airport in the morning.

Never about what was coming in a couple day’s time. Not about him leaving, and not about what would come after.

That was okay, though. 

Because you were together, for now. You and Steve, sitting side by side, stealing kisses between watching the waves lap at the shore. 

"Good idea, huh? Coming here?" Steve said, gesturing at nothing, but you assumed he meant the overall trip.

You agreed. "Yeah, although you didn't have to do all this. You could at least let me pay you-"

"Nope, not a chance. This was paid for and sponsored by the Harrington Estate, thank you very much."

This was the first time he'd mentioned anything about what had happened ever since that first night. "Do you wanna talk about it?" You asked softly.

"About my dad? No, told you, I'm fine."

"Steve, are you sure?"

You felt Steve shift beside you then, mirroring him when he sat cross-legged to face you. "Hey, I promise I'm fine, okay? We hadn't talked in a few years before, anyway. Sure, he was my father, but he wasn't a dad. So, I'm okay. And if I'm ever not okay, I'll let you know, okay? I'll call you up and you can listen to me scream and cry. I promise."

You snorted despite the moment, "That'd be a hell of a phone bill."

"I don't care. I miss hearing your voice anyway. Letters aren't really the same, you know?"

You did know, they really weren’t the same. They were never enough, and they'd never be enough, especially after this summer.

Steve spoke again, "Are you okay? After everything that went down in Hawkins?"

"Oh, yeah! Yeah, I've been good. Went through a period of berating myself for being so fucking stupid, but that's about it." 

"We all do stupid shit when we're in our twenties. I think you're good."

You offered him a nod, "I forgave myself for it a while back. I just wish things could've been different." You hope he'd catch the meaning behind your words, that you wished things could have been different for you and Steve. That maybe the two of you could have built a life together. 

You didn’t miss the pain in his eyes before he averted your gaze, the nod of his head that told you that he knew exactly what you meant, and yeah, he felt it, too. "Yeah, wish they were different, too." He brought his hand to your bare knee, tracing some pattern onto the skin, "I'm gonna miss the hell outta you, you know that?"

A lump formed in your throat at his words, at how tender he was being, so you only nodded. Afraid that you’d let out a sob if you did anything else. So, you just laid a hand on his, squeezing, almost as if he’d float across the ocean right then and there. Because you were going home tomorrow, and Steve was leaving you the day after, and you weren't ready for that yet. He seemed to understand your silence, so he didn’t wait for you to respond. He already knew what the answer would be, anyway. Instead, his free hand found the nape of your neck, tangling through the hair there and pulled you closer to him, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was a little clumsy, and a little messy, but neither of you seemed to care because the time was slipping through your fingers like the sand underneath you. 

And as the two of you fell back into bed together that night, something shifted. It felt different than all of the other times over the summer. It was like it always was, in a way, with Steve pressing his lips on any bare skin he found and whispering praises against you, but it felt different this time. This time, he made sure to take his time with you, exploring all he could, leaving marks he was sure would last for longer than his remaining time with you.

This time, it felt like saying goodbye. 

So much for summer love and saying "us"

If Steve noticed the way your mood would randomly sour during those last few days, or why you got a faraway look in your eye on the plane ride back to your home, he never commented. He'd always bring you back with sweet nothings and a kiss to take you out of your funk. You wondered if he was distracting you on purpose or if he was just that clueless. 

It would work, obviously. His little distractions would remind you that he was still here, still yours for a little while longer and you'd force the thoughts to the back of your mind. But they always came back, haunting you.  

The metaphorical tick of the clock was always there in your mind, because time was running out.

You wondered what would happen after. When Steve got on that plane back to America. Would things be as they were? A letter exchanged every few weeks, an email every other day once you both were able to get a computer? Would Steve ask you to go back to Hawkins to visit, or would he want to come back here to see you? How often would you be able to see one another? Because before, when you and Steve were just good friends, you both went five years without seeing one another, and somehow, you'd both survived. Letters sent across an ocean was enough. The wanting to see each other again was enough. But would it be enough now? How could it ever be?

You wondered if he would ask you to go home with him.

Would he want you to be with him, back in Hawkins? Would he want you to leave with him? Leave the life you've created for yourself here? If he begged you to run away with him, would you?

Or, would he want to stay here in Italy? Pack up his old life and build a new one in a new country? Shit, could you even ask him to do that?

More importantly, would he say yes if you did?

Livin' for the hope of it all, for the hope of it all

The morning of August 31st came way too soon.

You and Steve had been sitting on your bedroom floor all morning, packing the last of his things in between sipping coffee and reminiscing about the months you'd spent together before you had to leave for the airport after lunch. The coffee did little to soothe the knot in your stomach, but you held onto your mug anyway, needing something to do with your hands. A thought had been eating at you for the past few days; worming its way into your brain until you could hardly think about anything else. 

Because little sparks of hope had been lighting all summer. Comments made by Steve about the country, kisses pressed into your skin under bedsheets, laments about Steve not wanting to go back to Hawkins. They all bundled together and lit a fire of hope in your heart.

But what was the phrase, hope is a dangerous thing?

You wondered if you should just get it out. If you should ask the question that had been on the tip of your tongue for days. It might have been selfish, or wrong, to ask. It might have blown up in your face, but you had to ask. No more being scared to speak up for what you wanted. 

“Can we talk about something?” You asked suddenly. When Steve nodded, you opened your mouth to speak, closed it, then repeated the process. Now, that you had his attention, you couldn’t get the correct words out. Finally, you settled for, “Did you like it here?”

Steve didn’t answer right away, seemingly perplexed by your random question. “Yeah, I loved it here. Y’know, the food was awesome, I liked where you worked, it was cool. And yeah, being with you was amazing. Why?”

You considered his answer, averting his gaze when you asked your follow up, “You ever think about leaving Hawkins, too?”

“Sweetheart, what-”

“Would you want to stay here with me?” The silence that followed your question was deafening. After a beat, you allowed yourself to meet Steve’s eyes again to try and figure out what he was thinking. 

“Do you mean to- I, what do you mean?”

“I mean you could stay. This summer with you has been amazing and I-I think we would be good together. Would you ever consider it? We used to talk about leaving Hawkins, when we were younger - do you still think about it?”

He stood then, running his fingers through his hair. When he remained silent you continued on, rising to your feet as well. You felt frantic, like you had to explain yourself more. “You could go home, you know, get everything in order, but then come back, if you wanted? And then we could be together, like, actually together. Would you ever want that?”

Steve sighed then, a loud sound that made you stop in your tracks. “Sweetheart, I can’t just not go back, or go back just to leave again. What the hell would I even do here? I can't just pick up a teaching career in Italy, can I?” You hated how his voice sounded regretful, almost pitying and damn near making you cry, but then he surprised you.

“Would you want to come home with me?”

His words were a shock to your system. They knocked the air right out of your lungs. His eyes were on you, and they broke your heart because they were pleading, begging you to say yes. You couldn't think, could barely fucking breathe because didn't you want this? Didn't you want to be together with Steve? Didn't you want to keep him forever, build a life with him? To wake up in the morning close to him, sip coffee across from each other before work? Go home to him every night, instead of an empty apartment?

It sounded nice, right? 

But could you leave this? This little idyllic part of the world you’d called home for years now? The job you loved, and you had friends here, too. Could you be happy back in your shitty little hometown again? Worst of all, what if you did leave with him, and everything would blow up in your face? What if you followed Steve home, only to realize that you were only good for each other for a short while, and not for the long haul? And then you two would break up and have to see each other all over Hawkins, remembering what you gave up here?

You didn’t know if you would be able to handle that. 

Steve continued, “I thought about it too - it started in Barcelona - I was thinking about how much fun we had this summer, right? And thinking about leaving hurts, and it's 'cause I'm leaving you. So, would you ever consider coming back? Fuck, you could even come with me right now, I’ll buy you a ticket, I don’t care-" 

You knew what he meant, because the thought of him leaving was killing you. You hated knowing that you wouldn’t wake up next to him in the morning, and that you had no idea when you’d see him again. Still, you knew the answer to his question, and you hated that you had to give it.

"Steve, I don't want to go back." You tried to take a breath, but you couldn't calm yourself because you saw the hurt in Steve's eyes at your words. "I wanna be with you, I want it so badly, but not there. I can't just leave. I can't leave this just to go back to Hawkins."

You watched as he physically deflated, his disappointment quickly turning to indignation. "You're saying you'd never go back? For anything?"

"I- fuck!" You brought your hands to your eyes, rubbing until you saw stars, remembering the question you had tortured yourself with for days. 

If he begged you to run away with him, would you?

You had wanted the option for the whole summer. You wanted Steve to ask you to be with him, even if you didn't know if you could leave with him. Or, at the very least, you wanted him to want to stay. To fall in love with the country like you did and want to make his own life here. 

“I can’t leave this,” you said, tears gathering on your lash line because it killed you to say those words.

You watched as his eyes narrowed, shoulders rolled back, and you could practically see the fight ignite in his eyes, “Are you saying you won’t come back for me? After all this? You won’t come back, but you expect me to just stay here ‘cause you asked?”

“You’re a fucking Harrington, you can do whatever you damn well please. Hell, you booked this trip on a whim, you could stay on a whim if you wanted!”

“It’s not that easy!” He wasn't screaming, but the sudden volume of his voice startled you. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re adults now! We’ve got things to take care of, so no, I can’t just stay on a whim.”

He moved closer to you then, “You know what I think it is? I think you’re just scared. You were scared back then, after all that shit happened so you just left! You left me, and everyone else. You just ran away from your problems because you were a coward, and you’re still a coward.”

“Don’t call me a fucking coward!” you yelled, voice cracking, and you hated how his words cut you because this felt a lot like a breakup, like you were losing him for good. This felt like the end. 

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

Steve only continued, and you saw a glimpse of the old King Steve that you thought he had left behind. Biting, out for blood. “No, I think you’re just scared. You’re scared to admit how you feel, scared to leave this little bubble you’ve created for yourself.”

“Dammit Steve, you want me to admit how I really feel?” You felt your tears flowing freely at this point, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “Yes, I’m scared to go back because I’m scared that it’ll all be for nothing! I’ll go back, and we’ll realize that we were only part-time soulmates, and then I’ll be miserable again. Because that would hurt even more than this does, and this hurts like hell.”

He was silent, his eyes were softer but you couldn't stop. "Why can't we be together here?" You begged, "Why can't we just stay here?"

When you were only met with his silence once more, you realized that you were at an impasse. Neither of you were willing to give up the lives you've built in order to build another life miles away, not even for each other. You both seem to come to this realization at the same time, because Steve's shoulders sag, and your breath hitches, and you see the shine of tears line Steve's eyes. You realize that the time for the two of you had passed, and that you're not going to be together after this. Now, you're just two people who fell in love at the wrong time.

"This isn't gonna work, is it?" His voice is lower now, but you don't miss the way it hitches at the end. "You're not coming with me."

You shake your head, heart sinking at the finality of his statement because this was it, "And you're not staying here."

"No, I can't, sweetheart."

You were expecting that answer, you knew that answer, but hearing it still stings. Because while you knew it was selfish, you wanted to keep him here, all for yourself. Even if you knew how unrealistic that dream was.

But the dream was over.

"Hey, come here," he whispered, and you didn't hesitate to fall into him when he reached for you. “I’m sorry for yelling; I didn’t mean to call you a coward. I didn’t mean any of it.”

You allowed the tears to fall, dropped your head to rest on his chest one more time. His grip around your waist was crushing and you felt the wetness of his own tears on your neck, but you didn't dare pull away from this. You breathed him in to ground yourself; rosemary and mint shampoo, fresh coffee, remnants of his cologne mixed with your laundry soap. The mix was intoxicating, comforting, and you wished you could bottle it up, save it for when your apartment would feel empty once he was gone.

Because you knew it would. You’d feel him everywhere, his side of your bed, his favorite coffee mug, the mark he'd left on your heart. He’d linger for long after he was on that plane.

“For what it’s worth, I love you” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Well that doesn’t do us any good now, does it? It might be the worst thing I’ve heard you say all summer” he responded with a caustic chuckle. “But for what it’s worth, I love you, too. You know that.”

Though it was hard to admit to yourself, you saw the bitter irony and humor in it all and found yourself letting out a small laugh through your tears. The two of you stood for a few more minutes, not wanting to break contact, but knowing it was inevitable.

"What happens now? Still friends?" You heard him mutter against your shoulder, felt him hug you a little tighter like he was scared to let go. You were glad that you weren't facing one another now, because you hated to lie to his face.

If you were honest, you'd say that you'd try to stay friends, but that wasn't really going to happen, was it? Not after everything that happened over these months. No, Steve would go home, you'd both write to each other for a while, acting like you never broke each other's hearts. But then, Steve would find someone else, and maybe you would, too, and the letters would just bring up glorious, painful memories about what happened here. What could have been if things had been different back home. And then, pretty soon, you would both forget about this summer. The pictures on your fridge would fade and eventually Steve would just be someone you knew in a past life.

You could try to keep things as they were, but soon, you'd drift apart. No matter how much you both wanted to pretend that you wouldn't. That's just how life goes.

"Yeah, Steve," you said, tears flowing freely, unashamed of the way you were clinging to him before this moment was over. "Still friends, always."

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #st #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x reader smut #joe keery

[sokkas-therapist]

your favourite zukka moment/headcanon?

Hi!! I’m completely indecisive and incapable of choosing just ONE, so I have comprised a list!

Favorite Zukka moments:

The zoom in on Sokka grabbing Zuko’s arm and just…holding it there for a second in TBR????

The whole thing in the Southern Raiders episode where Zuko told a mediocre joke and Sokka laughed for way longer than everyone else then called Zuko his hero 😭

Of course, THE PRINCE AND THE FOOL

And lastly, a 3 in 1: that entire end scene of The Boiling Rock where Zuko pushed Sokka out of the way of fire, then jumped because he knew Sokka would catch him, and GRASPED Sokka’s hands for like a solid 45 seconds after saving him from falling off of the gondola (like ok Zuko….he’s safe now…..you can stop being gay now let go-)

Favorite headcaon;

#1 of course is that they raised Izumi together and became a sweet domestic family that gave her all the love and support they wished they received growing up <33

ZUKKA BETROTHAL ARMBANDS I GO FERAL

After the war ended, Sokka goes back and stays in the Fire Nation with Zuko for a bit so that he doesn’t feel so alone up in the palace (totally as buddies and good buds looking out for each other nothing more), and together they work towards remodeling the palace to make it a home. Let the light in, fill it with art, have a variety of colors, and build a little community with all the new ambassadors and staff (and obviously fall in love along the way). THEN after a while of Sokka taking trips back to the SWT, Zuko asks to go with him, and they say “fuck Firelord duties” and spend a lot of time down there. Zuko learns about their culture, and they all work to build the SWT back up again :)

Ok, I have so many more but I’m gonna leave it at that for my favorites! Thank you so much for this ask, I loved answering this question!!

#zukka #sokka #zuko #atla #sokka x zuko #zuko x sokka #zukka headcanon #my post #headcanons and stuff

[neuralnetsprettypatterns]

I'm going to start posting online content for the first time in a couple of days, and im scared.. do you have any advice? So I'm going to be doing politics, and I know that comes with a lot of harassment. I'm just really asking if there's anything you wish someone told you before you started putting your stuff out there 😅

I appreciate the ask, so I mulled it for a while. Making content has been a wild ride for me. I’m an aging teacher and I’m surely not a natural to any of this.

I boiled it down to five things. There are more, but I’d have had an easier time of it had I known these.

1. You paint for the back row.

Common expression in drag. It means this.

You never know your whole audience. (Especially on the internet.) Attention is scarce. (Especially on the internet.). You always say it louder and more obvious. Louder. Bigger. Clearer. As a creator, you inevitably get in your own head. That has value! You love the intricacies and the subtleties and the joys of this one effect or this one line. That’ll give you life - but your audience isn’t looking for subtlety. You earn that careful attention, and you’d best get used to yelling for it.

With big bold letters.

2. Good is good enough.

The attention economy thrives on volume. My queue is set to ten things a day. Minimum.

Maybe they miss. Maybe they land. There’s no time to meditate on each missed joke or script or image. You just keep tossing up shots.

It’s wonderful to have the time and space to make the most elevated stuff you can. You have to work hard for that time.

3. LNX is our hero.

I’ve always loved Lil Nas X. I deified him when that Kent State gun girl came at him, and he said he was gonna fuck her dad. He went from appreciated to god level that day.

You can’t appease your critics. They’ll never appreciate your kindness. You can’t convert them. You can troll them back if it gives you life. That’s it. You can block or you can have a laugh. The trolls out here give no quarter; they should expect none from you.

4. Real critique is private.

Maybe some people will have real concerns about your content! Their opinions might well be valid.

On the other hand, they might be nasty little clout chasers looking to get eyes on their own stuff by launching attack campaigns. They’re out of ideas, they’re mediocre, and Big Dramatic Callout is an easy script. It’s been done a million times before, after all.

Easy tell. If they care for real, they’ll say it where no one else can hear. That’s real. Big public callout? Be skeptical. Frustrated people do the Big Callout, but it’s chapter one of the Clout Chaser Handbook as well.

5. Real praise is public

That equation - “real critique is private” - reverses when people wanna tell you they love your stuff.

Many people are nice and they are shy! It is also natural for people to communicate privately. Enjoy the support and praise.

That said, some people may also want things from you. Attention. Resources. Collabs. Bragging rights. Parasocial attachment.

Is this praise real or not? Well, if it’s all in your DMs, best to be skeptical. Your best supporters will say it out loud, in front of everyone. That’s where it counts.

***

I hope that helps. Best of luck on your content creation!

#content creation #neuralnetsandprettypatterns #text post

[around1302]

XIV. CHEAP WINE

SPARE PARTS: a series (14/20)

PARIS, FRANCE

(W) strong language, alcohol use, oral (female receiving), (implant protected) sex, fingering.

5k of a lot of angst and pining, so beware lol

a/n yes i did link a visual of one of the sex positions i describe (not porn, real educational stuff i swear) because i felt like i was doing a shit job of explaining it. IN MY DEFENCE i’m a lesbian. idk how straight positions be working, okay!

THIRD PERSON’S POV

Harry can narrow down where he realised he had it a little too bad for Charlie Greene to roughly one moment. 

Circa 2016, when they were freshly recognised and began the recording process of their first album. When they were all still practically strangers, suddenly flung into this new world of songwriters and producers and media scrutiny. When Harry was late to their first ever recording session, and Charlie ripped into him so hard even Paula (ambitiously taking on five teenagers with mediocre talent and a dream) had an ounce of respect for her.

All he remembers was standing there in his ugly (but defensibly comfortable) purple trainers, fists shoved into an old hoodie pocket, jaw clenched and mouth set just… watching her. She was so stressed out and so mad, but Harry couldn’t give two shits. All he could do was stare at her mouth and imagine what it would be like to leap forward and shut her up with his own.

But he didn’t. Harry made a dumb joke about how hot she looked in that top, and decided to make dumb jokes every time he had that same urge. That all-consuming, stomach-churning urge that he thought would die the more he told himself to hate her. He managed to half convince himself she was nothing more than a stuck-up princess who only ever cared about whether he was late or high or covered in hickies he thought would work as a cover for any cracks.

Which they did. A little too well.

It’s why Harry’s watching her laugh with Zayn from behind her glass of red, and why he can’t do anything about the way Zayn’s eyes undress her in that dress. Fuck, that dress. Harry hasn't been able to let his eyes wander for more than two seconds at a time, because this is a fancy establishment and his trousers forgive nothing. Every time his gaze trickled down the neckline or to the creases that tugged at her waist he felt my trousers tighten, forcing him to cough and shift and think about something else till he can’t help but steal another look.

Around 0.2 seconds into his allotted time, Amelia’s chair squeaks against the floor and her ring tapping the edge of her wineglass silences the table. Harry’s eyes stay on Charlie a beat longer across the table, watching how she shifts in her seat and gives him a whole other angle to ache after.

He coughs and shifts and thinks about something else.

“I just wanted to say that I’m so proud of you guys,” Amelia keeps her voice low, despite the vacancy of the restaurant. There has to be a maximum of five other tables in here, considering the group stayed three hours after their last bites. “It’s been amazing to watch you all grow over the last six years, and to see it this close up is such an honour.”

Niall looks at Amelia like he could propose right there and then. Harry feels a twinge of jealousy he mislabels as happiness for his friends.

“And to Poppy,” she holds her glass in Charlie’s direction. Harry steals another glance. This time, though, his chest lurches in a different way. Her eyes gloss over and her lips twitch in that wobbly way that says she’s holding back a sob, “she’d be so proud of you, babe.”

Charlie smiles sadly, tilting her head as if saying the words ‘thank you’ aloud would burst that lump she’s visibly trying to swallow. So, Harry reaches for his glass to do it for her.

“To Poppy.”

Charlie’s head whips to face his, a tear escaping her and running a path down her cheek. Harry holds her stare, nodding toward her as everyone raises their glass in a cheer.

Then his eyes flicker lower, to the jewels encompassing her smooth neck, and his mind flashes to a few hours ago.

Returned from the graveyard and sprung with the news they’d all be going out to some sophisticated dinner in Poppy’s honour – Charlie called Harry in her room for a rant. Her subconscious would call it company, but she would never dare admit that.

Harry willingly complied, posted up on the bed while Charlie flurried around her room in a tornado of glitter and dress options and heels, whining about how going to a fancy dinner is the last thing she wanted to do and that she loves her friends – she really does – but how can they make this same mistake so many times?

Somewhere between grumbling about the uncomfortablity of stilettos and the way the airlines had tarnished the floral scent of her favourite perfume, Charlie struggled with her necklace. Harry, eyes lasered to her every movement, had been staring at her fingers tangling with the metal for five minutes before he had to do something about it himself.

“Here,” he mumbled, his tone somewhat annoyed as he rose from the bed and stood behind her in the mirror. He shooed her hands away, ignoring her confused mutterings to focus on the task at hand. 

Charlie, albeit brows furrowed and a line of questioning stuck in her throat, just… watched him. She didn’t even notice her lips curling as his forehead crinkled and his tongue poked at his bottom lip in concentration, and she definitely didn’t notice the sigh that left her lips when he locked her necklace in place and trailed his knuckles lightly against the open back of Charlie’s silk dress.

When he looked up to meet her gaze in the glass, he fought a smile at the way she was looking at him. It made his stomach twist and knot and he knew he was only tumbling deeper into the rabbit hole with every second he held her stare, but he also thought he’d die if he looked away.

“What?” Harry deadpanned, trying to regain some lucidity.

Charlie bit her lip, dimming her grin as she turned and thumbed at the curls straddling his collar. Harry swallowed thickly.

“You know, we could just not go to this dinner.”

“We have to.” Harry lilted, his attempt at biting that smile back starting to fail.

“Do we?” Charlie toyed with the material of his shirt, swaying him closer. He inhaled sharply, hands flying to her waist as her perfume (which, to him, was most definitely not tarnished) swallowed him whole.

“I sometimes think you’re trying to kill me, Greene,” Harry nudged her nose, kissing her chastely once on the lips before preserving with some self control, “res' is at eight, hurry it up.”

Blinking back to the bleak reality of realising he was an idiot for not taking up Charlie’s offer, Louis says the best thing Harry’s heard all night.

“Anyone fancy shots?”

“M’trying to fuck the guy in the black suit, y’think I have a chance?”

Harry smiles, trying not to laugh at Charlie in the middle of this badly lit bar. They (finally) moved from the restaurant to the first place they could find, which happened to be this kind of dingy looking dive bar down the street from their hotel. Trashy, but apparently not enough to stop them from welcoming the sticky tables and knock-off vodka.

Charlie’s had a few more than the rest of them and has been leaning into Harry’s side of the crimson booth, adorned with holes and stretch marks, for the last ten minutes, feeding him the worst pickup lines he’s ever heard.

It’s so far been the best ten minutes of his life.

“You know,” Harry shifts, moving his arm so it rests behind Charlie’s now slightly mussed curls tangled from the dancing with Amelia and Niall only half an hour ago. Her sleepy eyes drift into something tranquil, safe - something he could relax into and get lost in - but he keeps his cool, “if you keep hitting on the guy in the black suit, you’re going to scare the poor fucker away.”

Harry’s lying. He knows that. She knows that. Not a thing in the world right now could drive him away. But she gasps dramatically and feigns offence regardless. He bites his bottom lip to try and reign his grin back a bit.

He fails.

“Y’think m’comin’ on too strong?”

Harry squints, pinching his index finger and thumb and trying his hardest not to imagine what it would be like to pinch her chin. 

“Well,” Charlie abruptly stands, swaying slightly. He rushes to steady her waist, but pulls his hand away before anyone can see. Everyone was already confused by the day they spent together, the whole ‘crying in his shoulder at a graveyard’ ordeal. A tipsy hand on the waist would completely screw them, “in that case.”

Harry’s chest doesn’t drop until hes sees her palm find Zayn’s bicep by the bar while he talks to someone serving drinks, Zayn’s interest in the bartender seemingly dropping the second Charlie touches him. Harry’s jaw tightens and he clears his throat to stop any stupid, responsive lump forming. His eyes harden on the contact – the way she makes him instantly laugh, the way he tucks one of those stray curls behind her ear, the way he looks at her like she made the sun.

“Es-tu seul, mon amour?”

Harry’s gaze tears away, landing on someone tall and blonde and fucking gorgeous, but he can still see Zayn and Charlie laughing together in his peripheral and his retinas burn beneath the sight.

“Sorry, I don’t speak French.”

He can’t even bother to convincingly lie about his knowledge of the language. He knows this mystery woman is asking him if he’s alone, and he knows she’s about to offer one of the drinks in her hand up. Harry looks at Charlie and Zayn again.

“Mind if I sit?”

He pokes his tongue in his cheek, waiting for Charlie to look back at him with a playful glint, some sort of hope or hint that she’s only messing with him and she’s going to come back to him any minute.

She doesn’t.

“I’d love it if you did,” Harry forces himself to smirk, “one of those for me, darling?”

The group had been dropping like flies for the last hour. Niall and Amelia had left after they had gotten predictably close to fucking in the bar’s bathrooms, and Liam had to take Zayn back to the hotel after one too many shots. Louis has been in the corner with a brunette, flirting badly yet oddly successfully for the last ten minutes. Leaving only Charlie and Harry at war with each other.

It started when Charlie turned and saw Harry with the girl who bought him a drink, smile on her face, expecting to see him seething with jealousy. When that wasn’t the case, an unfamiliar feeling of something undiagnosed bubbled within her chest, and she sought out the first person (who was not Zayn) who would make Harry feel like she had.

That was roughly an hour ago. 

Now, Charlie’s dancing against a stranger to shitty jukebox music and Harry’s doing a terrible job of pretending to be apart of the conversation he’s meant to be having with a girl he’s pretty sure is a done deal.

Except he doesn’t want her. The girl he wants is grinding her ass against some sleezebag’s boner while he gawks at the fact a woman that beautiful would actually give him the time of day. Charlie’s eyes, hazy, have been set on Harry’s the whole time. Her teeth sinking into her bottom lip every time she saw his throat bob or his jaw tighten, letting that bubble in her chest melt with every solidification Harry is dripping in jealousy. His fist is clenched so hard around his glass it’s a surprise it hasn’t smashed, and when the poor girl speaking to him says something else he can’t be bothered to faux-listen to, he brashly apologises to go and rip Charlie away from her toy.

“Hey, man!” The guy, tall and broad and the blueprint of all Chads, booms as Harry grips Charlie’s bicep and pulls her away from the asshole. Despite the desired effect being achieved, Charlie frowns and yanks her arm from Harry’s harsh grip, his rings already having left blush indents in her brown skin.

“Charlie, quit playing. We’re going.”

Harry’s never liked that feeling of jealousy. He could never place it before – but now he realises that was because he was stuck for years unable to do a thing about it. In this moment, a moment where he can do something about it, all he wants is to get away from this suspect bar and fuck some sense into her.

“No, you’re not the boss of me,” Charlie had sobered several gross men ago, and in all honesty wanted nothing more than to leave. But she has a point to prove, God dammit. Whether that’s to herself or Harry, she’s unsure, but she’s going to prove it regardless.

“Let her be, dude. We were havin’ fun.”

The guy’s American, and Harry can’t help but roll his eyes at his Texan drawl as he tries to assert some all-man, all-masculine dominance. It’s so unbelievably predictable.

“You’re not allowed to tell me what to do, remember?” Charlie spits, forgetting entirely about the guy behind her. Harry was halfway through staring daggers into his soul before his gaze drops to Charlie. “No strings and all that. Go back to whoever you were planning on fucking tonight.”

“Charlie, you’re drunk–”

“I’m in a bar, dad. Fuck off.”

Harry can’t help but laugh. Bitter and humourless, but shit can he not do this anymore. 

“Yeah–”

“Shut up!” The two of them shout simultaneously, Charlie being long tired of this guy who two minutes ago was gripping her waist a little too tight, breathing down her neck a little too heavily. He was gross, and not her main concern right now.

“Jesus,” Chad murmurs, ego deflated, “crazy bitches out here.”

He saunters off in search of another mission, leaving Harry and Charlie at the bar.

Harry licks his lips, running his hand through his hair as he tries to collect what he wants to say. He doesn’t want to do it in this bar, in this situation, surrounded by the potency of cheap alcohol, but he knows better than to try and drag Charlie out again – so here it is.

“I get you wanted no strings,” his throat runs dry, “but that’s just not very fucking realistic anymore, Charlie. I care about you enough to know I don’t like seeing some pervert grind on you like that, and by the way you were staring at me, you fucking know that.”

Charlie folds her arms across her chest, hiding the way she anxiously plucks at her nails. 

She doesn’t like Harry. That would be absurd. He’s been nothing but a pain in her ass for the last six years, he’ll fuck anything that moves, he’s unreliable, messy, moody. A dickhead, an annoyance, a tease, a kiss, a touch, a fuck.

The lines begin to blur, and the easiest thing to do when those lines cross is to give in to either box Harry fits into. To either yell at him or get an orgasm out of him – but then he holds her in his hotel bed, or spends the day being Paris’ worst tour guide to distract her from Poppy’s grave, or holds her while she sobs into his chest because she can’t face her sister.

She hates him even more for it. 

“What are you saying?” Charlie utters. With the way Harry’s glued to her lips, it doesn’t matter they’re surrounded by chatter and music and 1 AM bar background – he hears every word as if it’s whispered in his ear.

Harry searches her eyes, trying to figure out how she’d respond if he said he’s saying he wants to know her in the morning as he does at night. That he wants to stop having to act like her presence annoys him when really it’s the only thing that’s kept him grounded all these years. That he wants to hear about her day, and hold her hand, and have her scream at him for domestic, stupid shit like how he forgot to wash up again rather than have her scream at him for being covered in hickies from someone he wishes is her.

“Fuck it,” Charlie sighs. She doesn’t have to wholly admit it to herself, that maybe she does crave Harry’s touch a little more than she should, but she can act on it in the only way she knows how. “Let’s just go back to the hotel.”

Harry’s tongue pokes in his cheek and he realises as she brushes past him that he’s been his own worst enemy this whole time.

Charlie pushes him against her hotel door once they reach the safety of the dim room, his lips quickly melting against hers — the action’s muscle memory at this point. He brings his hands up to her face, thumb brushing her jaw as he kisses her back, swallowing her sharp breaths and low moans as their tongues tangle. 

When her hands trail lower, tugging on his belt loops, Harry pulls away.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Charlie pants against his mouth, her dress straps draping her shoulders. Harry’s eyes follow the thin silk, his warm fingers tracing her neck and giving her goosebumps (to which he tries to hide his smile) as he hoists them back up.

“Let’s just move slower, yeah?” Harry nudges her nose with his, his lips just brushing hers before she leans back.

“Why?” She narrows her eyes, sceptical.

If there’s one thing Charlie Greene is excellent at, it’s denial.

“Sweetheart,” Harry kisses her jaw, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close to him. He kisses her neck, Charlie sighs and puddles into his touch, “we have all night,” he kisses her throat, then her collarbones. “We don’t need to rush all the time.”

Bullshit for: I’m terrified this is the last time you’re ever going to want to touch me again after that near-confessional. Nevertheless, Charlie accepts it and sinks her fingers into his hair as she meets his lips again – slowly.

Harry backs her up till the backs of her knees hit the mattress, then he sits her down.

She perches on the edge of the bed, looking up at him as he removes his blazer, leaving him in his black shirt and trousers. Her eyes level with the butterfly just peaking from the material, she slides her palms back on the sheets till she can sit back and look at him in his entirety.

“You’re…”

The word gets trapped in her throat. Is it too intimate? Is it too weird?

“What?” Harry murmurs, dropping to his knees to take Charlie’s heels off.

She chews on it for a moment, tilting her head while watching him lean down and kiss the area of shin that’s visible behind her dress, ghosting his lips up the deep thigh slit. When he reaches her waist, she lays back, letting him climb over her.

“Charlie, what?” He repeats, curls tickling her cheek.

She reaches up, tucking his hair behind his ears. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Harry swears his heart stops beating.

“Sorry,” Charlie panics at the silence, “I’m probably just still dru–”

She can’t finish her nervous ramble because Harry’s already kissing her into the bed. Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist, trying desperately to grind against him as he pins her waist and cocoons her with his other arm.

“No one’s ever called me that,” Harry breathes against her lips, starting to struggle with his whole ‘slow’ idea. Charlie pulls him back to her mouth, needing the taste of him just as much as she needs the feel of him. She guides one of his hands down, pushing it beneath her dress. He presses his middle finger to her clothed cunt, swiping it over her clit and teasing the bundle of nerves.

“Please,” Charlie bucks into his hand, trying to reach some pressure, “I need you.”

Harry’s chest leaps.

She needs you to fuck her, idiot. She doesn’t need you.

… oh, fuck it. I can be delusional for a minute.

“Up,” Harry’s voice lowers as he nods up the bed, and they shuffle around so Charlie’s head hits the pillow. “No,” he quickly swipes her waist, nearly making her yelp with how swiftly he pulls her atop of him. He grabs her face, not caring that her hair’s tangled in his rings, “I meant up.”

Charlie frowns, not understanding till…

Oh.

“You mean…?” 

“Ride my face.” 

Charlie’s breath catches in her throat. She musters a heavy nod.

Sitting up, he helps her pull her dress over her body, leaving her only in those lace knickers Harry doesn’t know if he wants to frame or rip apart. His hands smooth over her silky thighs, pushing her back so he can take in the full sight of her. All her tattoos and marks and bumps and bruises – every perfect inch of her that he could drink in forever if he could.

He finds her eyes, nodding to signal he wanted – needed – her on his face. Now.

Climbing up the bed, Charlie clings onto the bed frame as she hovers above him, gasping at the feeling of his long fingers moving her knickers to the side, his cool rings brushing her mound. 

“Charlie, I said sit on my face.”

Never having done this before, Charlie glances down, her pussy still inches from his mouth, hesitant to sink any further.

“I don’t want to suffocate you.”

“You can kill me for all I care, just sit the fuck down.”

When Charlie scowls, Harry softens.

“I promise you won’t suffocate me. I’ll be more than fine.”

Keeping one hand occupied on her knickers, Harry wraps the other around her thigh to bring her down to his mouth. Tense, at first, Charlie just watches as his lips circle her cunt, his tongue just flickering at her clit. When he looks up, his seafoam eyes dark jade, Charlie’s stomach tightens and she throws her head back.

Harry pulls her further down, aiding her in rocking against his face as his tongue works her clit in hard, slow notions. Charlie leaves one hand on the bed frame, using her other to sink into his hair and tug – eliciting tunnelled groans from his throat to her pussy – as she begins to find a rhythm.

“Oh, shit, Harry,” she gasps, her hands flying back to his chest, now.

Harry tweaks at her nipple, rolling the bud between his fingers before feeling every part of her. Her stomach, her breasts, her arms. He settles on her thighs, keeping her impossibly close as Charlie moans and gasps through her orgasm.

Harry keeps her there until she can’t stand it, letting her climb back down his body after she tugs on his hair. Finding his lips as quickly as she can, Charlie tangles the taste of her on his tongue with her own, working to unbutton his shirt and trousers as she reaches in and feels how hard he is. He’s practically leaking pre-cum already, and grinds into Charlie’s touch as she works him a little.

“Christ, Styles,” she pants, smirking against his lips, “for me?”

“No, for that blonde girl I was talking to at the bar.” Harry jokes, laughing into her mouth when she stops palming him. “Of course it’s for you, dumbass,” he rakes his fingers through her hair, smoothing the nape of her tense neck with his finger tips. Kissing her, he mumbles, “always for you.”

He flips them over, arms caging her in as he kisses her neck. “You don’t understand,” kiss, “what you,” kiss, “do to me,” kiss, “Charlie.” kiss.

Head tilted into the pillow, nails raking the muscles that ripple his back, Charlie closes her eyes and wraps her legs around his waist. 

“Show me then,” she lifts her hips, brushing her wet core against his erection.

“Side,” he demands, sucking a nipple into his mouth and brushing his teeth against her puckering flesh.

Charlie quickly obeys, practically dripping for him again as his large hands sprawl her hips. She lays on her side, her cheek falling to his bicep as he lays behind her and lifts her leg up.

“Ready for me, hm?” Harry trails a finger between her folds, feeling how wet she is before tasting her on his thumb. “Always so fuckin’ wet,” he grabs the base of his dick, poking at her entrance before rubbing against her clit. She gasps, pushing back against him and grabbing his hip behind her. Harry leans down to her neck, teeth nipping at her earlobe as he slides in with ease.

Charlie’s eyes flutter shut, a low moan escaping her throat as he fits her. Harry’s own breath shudders, and he drapes her right leg over his side, gasping into into her neck as he feels her pulse around him. Snaking her arm around his nape, Harry starts thrusting, and the deep position echoes a symphony of filthy notes around the room. 

“Fuck, Charlie,” Harry whines in her ear, hand slipping down her thigh to circle her clit.

“Oh, my God,” Charlie chokes, shifting so she lays on her back and can swallow his moans with her lips. He squeezes her left breast, toying with her nipple till she bites down on his bottom lip and pushes her head into the pillow.

“Every time,” he groans, sinking his teeth into her shoulder, “you feel so good, every time.”

“Don’t stop,” Charlie’s fingers blanch around the sheets below them, “s’good, don’t stop.”

At that, Harry went harder, faster. Fuck the ‘slow’ rule.

“Charlie, baby, I’m gonna come,” Harry moans into her neck, trying to speed up his fingers so she can reach that peak sooner. Instead, she removes his hand, squeezing her pussy around him so that he tightens his grip on her waist and gasps sharply.

“Please do,” she directs all her focus on him, now, wanting so badly for him to, “fill me up, please, Harry.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” She rubs her own clit, slowly, feeding off his desperate little pants.

Fucking her so hard he nearly concusses them both on the headboard, Harry reaches his high, crying out into her neck. Charlie moans with him, scraping her fingers through his tangled curls as he slows down. 

“Did you finish?” He pants, breathless. Charlie shakes her head.

He pulls out, wincing as he shifts to lay her flat on her back, his cheek pressed into his palm. She finds his lips, kissing him softly despite his fingers curling filthily inside her. When it becomes too much to kiss him, when his thumb comes into play on her clit and the hard circles he rubs brings her closer and closer to her high, Charlie grabs his face and kisses his bottom lip once.

“Stay the night.”

Harry nearly stops. “Really?”

Charlie nods, and Harry kisses her, moving down her torso and making her come for a second – but not the last – time tonight.

taglist: @lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily @sirtommyholland @tpwksm @b-reads-things @tiaamberxx @daphnesutton @mleestiles

#harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles x oc #harry styles series #1d ot5 #one direction series #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #spare parts series #one direction ot5 #harry styles friends with benefits #harry styles fic

[raainy-daze]

Gotta Get Creative

halloween special !

rottmnt raph x gn!reader

summary: as it turns out, halloween costumes are a whole lot more difficult when you’re trying to match with a mutant turtle.

word count: 1,142

a/n: taking a break from requests to get some halloween oneshots out! i’m counting this as gender neutral, but reader does wear a dress for their halloween costume. happy halloween, everybody!

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Ah, October, the month of spooks and scares. There’s a chill in the air, and celebrations have begun.

The moment you got out of school, you grabbed your things and practically ran the route to the nearest manhole. It was a path you knew well by now, having walked it so many times.

You arrived at the lair in roughly ten minutes (new record!). You went through your routine, greeting everyone - Splinter on his armchair, Mikey and Leo having some sort of competition, Donnie in his lab. Finally, Raph in his room.

“Hello, wonderful boyfriend of mine! It is October 1st, which means I am now about to become a menace to society. Got any costume ideas?”

You dropped yourself onto the bed next to Raph, who, prior to your entrance, had been knitting. He had set his needles down now though, and you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before grabbing a notebook out of your bag along with a pen.

“Right to the point, huh?”

“This is business, Raph. Halloween costumes are no matter to be taken lightly.”

Several months ago already, you and Raph had agreed to go in matching costumes this year. Now that October had come, the challenge was to decide what costumes.

Of course, there were a few ground rules. Mainly, whatever it was had to something that would cover Raph’s mutation at least to the point where he could go unnoticed topside. Unless the Hidden City celebrated Halloween the way humans do, which you sorely doubted.

This couldn’t be too hard, right?

•°. *࿐

“My brain has failed me. The Internet has failed me. The world has failed me, Raph.”

As it turns out, your imagination wasn’t being very cooperative today, and neither was Google. In front of you sat your phone opened to a list of couples costume ideas (more than a few of which were more than a little unsettling), and all around you were scattered crumpled up pages of your poor notebook.

“Come on, (y/n), it’s only been thirty minutes.” Raph was patting your back in consolation.

“It’s been almost two hours.”

“What?” Raph blinked at you. “That can’t be right.”

You pointed at the corner of your screen, which indicated that roughly two hours had, in fact, passed.

“Oh. Well-” Raph picked up your notebook, reading through the most recent page. “Okay, so not much. That’s fine. It’s only day one.”

“Only day one! We waited until October to decide, and now we’re going to suffer for it! One of the most important parts of a good Halloween is a good costume - or at least an above mediocre one!” You threw your arms up in frustration (and maybe just a bit for the sake of drama), just narrowly missing Raph’s face.

Speaking of which, you couldn’t help noticing something strange in his expression. Like he was holding back a smile, and…

“Are you laughing?”

“No.” His voice cracked as he spoke, and he immediately burst into a fit of laughter.

“You think this is a laughing matter?” You couldn’t help smiling, despite your words.

“I’m sorry! I just- Wait, wait, no!” He grabbed the pillow you were reaching for before you could, and you both dissolved into giggling messes.

Your head was resting on Raph’s shoulder now, and for a moment, you just took a moment to smile.

There were a few minutes of silence, both of you lying back on the bed, before Raph chuckled. “Imagine if we just… ditched the disguise.”

“What do you mean?” You turned to look at him.

“Like, we just go up top wearing a generic couple’s costume, and when anyone asks we just go ‘oh yeah, we’re Jack and Rose from the Titanic, but if Jack was secretly a turtle monster’.”

It was a joke. It was just meant to be a joke. But… “Raph?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re a genius.”

•°. *࿐

Over the next month, you spent your time gathering the supplies for your costume. It wasn’t that difficult, really, the Titanic outfits weren’t that hard to recreate.

When the day rolled around, everyone met down in the lair to get into costume. April was in a circus ringmaster’s uniform, with Mayhem meant to be her circus animal. Donnie, to no one’s surprise, had dressed up as Frankenstein for the third year in a row, and had convinced Mikey to go as the monster.

“Leo, where’s your costume?” You raised an eyebrow, and he responded with a grin.

“What do you mean, where’s my costume? It’s right here. I’m a mutant turtle who lives in the sewers.”

“That’s cheating.”

“Says who?”

At this point, you decided to ignore him. You instead turned your attention to your boyfriend, who was sitting next to you on the couch. Raph’s previous joke had, in fact, become reality - here he was, Jack from the Titanic, but as a turtle creature.

“So, if Jack is a turtle now, does that mean he survives after all?” April asked.

“I don’t think snapping turtles live in the ocean,” was Donnie’s response.

“Shh - let it be happy. We need more happy endings in this world.”

“Glad you could find a happy ending in our cover up for a Halloween costume, April.”

“Hey, every costume deserves a little world building. Like magical circus animals…” April gestured towards Mayhem. Or rather, the spot where Mayhem had been moments ago. “Oh, for the love of- MAYHEM!”

You leaned back against the couch, smoothing out your dress. You’d bought a dress initially, but wound up altering it to your liking. You put a lot more effort into it than you’d really care to admit.

“Alright fellas, what’s our route? Got any intel on where the best candy’s at?” Leo took charge of the planning, or at least tried to before Donnie pulled out a rather extensive map of the best trick or treating spots in New York City.

“Well, I’d say these turned out pretty well. The costumes, that is.” Raph smiled at you.

“So would I!” You returned the grin, and put an arm around his shoulders. Well, you tried to. He was a bit too much bigger than you for it to work very well. “April’s right though. A costume like this needs a story behind it. How did Jack become a turtle creature, I wonder?”

“Maybe he’s a ninja, too. One that lives in the sewers.”

“Hey, guys!” You looked back at the others. Donnie was still holding that ridiculously large map - you had to bite your tongue to keep from laughing.

“I’ve got Mayhem, let’s go!” April called from the sewer entrance.

Everyone got up from their spots around the room; Donnie rolled up his map and Mikey rushed the last few finishing touches on his makeup. You grabbed Raph’s hand as you stood up.

“Let’s go get some free candy, people!”

#tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #raph x reader #tmnt raph x reader #rottmnt raph x reader

[spaceagebachelormann]

being best friends with the st. cassian chamber choir members would include…

pairings: st. cassian chamber choir x gn reader

warnings: me struggling to find good gifs, ocean being a mediocre friend, ricky being weird, no genuine warnings,

masterlist

Ocean O’Connell Rosenburg

refuses to let you read smut

if you bring it up she starts screaming and throwing stuff at you and begging you not to read smut

she still treats you horribly, but like it’s not as horrible as the way she treats everyone else

has somehow read every shakespeare play, and talks to you about them for hours

FORGETS YOU AT WALMART

when you get mad at her for forgetting you she just assumes your joking

physically affectionate with her friends but it’s a lot more frequent with you

while your walking she’ll just wrap an arm around your shoulders or grab your wrist gently like it’s nothing

when you have sleepovers she goes to sleep at 9pm and throws pillows at you if you stay up later than her

helps you with classes your struggling with, for a price.

by that i mean she just asks you to buy her some food and that’s it

kind of a bad friend but she has good intentions

tells you EVERYTHING

there isn’t anything she knows that you don’t know

BONUS:

Ocean: Y/N and I have the chemistry where we finish eachothers-

Y/N: sentences

Ocean: don’t interrupt me.

Noel Gruber

oh my GOD

you definitely got suspended with him for breaking into that bible thing

you said the erection thing

also you guys definitely still laugh about it

brainstorming insults with eachother

most of which are used on ocean

forces you to listen to french music

threatens you with his hairbrush over the littlest things

it’s actually quite scary

you get to hear all about monique gibeau all THE TIME

he’s a surprisingly good storyteller and he likes when you’re on the edge of your seat listening to him talk about experiences he’s been through

working at taco bell with him

it’s scary

BONUS:

Y/N: i turned out perfectly fine!

Noel: Y/N, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast

Y/N: I DIDNT PUT THE BREAD IN, YOU DIDNT PUT THE BREAD IN.

Mischa Bachinski

your conversations with him are one of you just rambling on and on about things and the other one listening

when he’s rambling it’s about talia

not even you know if she’s real or not

you decide not to ask

oh yeah also he’s offered you alcohol atleast 2048 times, usually once a week

your also rlly good friends with noel

it’s a trio thing

but your still mischas bsf

once he grows rlly comfortable with you it’s scary guard dog privileges

like will fr bark at anyone giving you a hard time

ALSO HES HELLA FUNNY

and says the most random shit with no context at all

it rubs off on you

a horrible influence

BONUS:

mischa: *breaks window and climbs through it*

mischa: *helps Y/N through window*

mischa: Y/N, breaking and entering is bad.

Y/N: okay

Ricky Potts

listening to him talk about zolar

well his talking is either him passing you notes with hella information on it or him using asl

i feel like in his mind you would have a zolarian based off of you but like not one of the sexy catwomen, just a zolarian who was an important role in his story

also rlly funny

cracks the most random jokes at the most random times

doesn’t sleep until 4am

seems innocent but isn’t

you have to deal with all of the above

imagine learning asl to talk to him instead of using paper and a pen <33

big cat person and his cats are so used to you that sometimes they just show up on your doorstep

sends you analog horror and laughs when your afraid the next time you see him

BONUS:

Ricky: so whats for dinner?

Y/N, staring at the food they just burnt: regret.

Jane Doe/Penny Lamb

randomly info dumps to you

oh also i think she’d like brushing your hair

a big dog person and you have to settle arguments between her and ricky over if cats or dogs are better

sends you dogs at 4am

oh also i think she’d be rlly good at painting nails for some reason and at random times she’d just take your hand and start painting your nails

speaks her mind BUUUUT that’s not always a bad thing

^^ randomly compliments you for example

BONUS:

Y/N: im a reverse necromancer

Jane/Penny: isnt that just killing people? Y/N: ah, technality

Constance Blackwood

rlly honest with you

it’s very helpful

also she checks up on you

such a good friend

i love her

teaches you how to play recorder

and kazoo

you create musical chaos with her

everyone finds it annoying except ricky cause personal head canon that he likes weird music

BONUS:

Constance: i know your deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are

Y/N: it’s not a joke

Y/N: *sniffles*

Y/N, voice cracking: i’m a legit snack.

#mars writing 🧈 #ride the cyclone #rtc musical #rtc #oceam o’connell rosenburg #noel gruber #mischa bachinski #ricky potts #jane doe #penny lamb #constance blackwood #rtc x reader

[99pluto]

Seventeen as F1 drivers

So, my bestie and I are both into F1 and we’re carats, and this started as a joke, but I took it seriously. Tbh i don't even know how to use this website, anyway, i had fun with these. Don't take it upfront, it's silly and meant to be funny, not offensive.

Seventeen members as F1 drivers would be:

S.Coups: Michael Schumacher (Ferrari era). Huge crack that makes history ? Well kind of, just like Michael he’d get out of his car to go and beat the shit out of that one mf that crashed into him. No Javi would be in the team anymore, too scared for their life. Kimi Raikkonen type of radios (anger issues). Ultra competitive and would swear as much as Tsunoda.

Jeonghan: Christian Horner. Yes. He is a good tactician deal with it, kinda evil like Horner sometimes, but he’s got as much love to provide to his kids just like Christian with Max. He would start racing but find out he’s even better at managing a team.

Joshua: Sebastian Vettel (not Redbull era). Not Redbull era bc he was (unfairly) disliked (just like Max) at that time, and EVERYONE loves Seb. That’s it, it’s the rule, you like F1 ? You like Seb. You don’t like F1 ? You still like Seb. Unproblematic and engaged king. Also a fucking legend.

Jun: Valteri Bottas (Alfa Romeo era). Unbothered moisturized king that slays. He’s doing his things, he doesn’t care because he knows his worth, you saw him naked and didn’t expect that. Everyone praises him on how he owns his style and he fucking does. Is hilarious when you don’t expect him to be.

Hoshi: George Russell. Iconic, hilarious, massive talent, carried Williams, CARRIED WILLIAMS, nothing to prove cuz he’s one of the best altho the Mercedes is hard to drive, doesn’t complain cuz he’s EXCELLENT and races with an 8th world champion without looking ridiculous next to him.

Wonwoo: Zhou Guanyu. He’s calm and collected, doesn’t make much waves, he’s doing his things and looks good doing them. Good pics, insta feed slays. 

Woozi: Fernando Alonso. Dude will hit retirement age and still be talented, pisses me off. Rarely speaks but spicy and precise comments. Will sometimes mess with your mind, he is clever and knows how to handle himself.

DK: Alex Albon (Williams era). He’s EXCELLENT, is happy with what he has, he got treated badly when he was younger but now he knows his worth. Hard work, a sunshine, hella funny.

Mingyu: Charles Leclerc (Ferrari depressed edition). Huge ass talent (as in Max Verstappen talent, without the father trauma) but does silly mistakes, is also silly. Gets bullied by his own team, basically. Might look cute and all but can get pretty serious, like, fr, he’s talented and SMART.

Minghao: Lewis Hamilton (Mercedes era). Fashion icon, all about healthy soul in a healthy body, ICONIC. He’s just got the Lewis vibe idk like they would be friends i wouldn’t even be surprised.

Seungkwan: Daniel Ricciardo. The official sunshine of F1, the marketing face, everyone wants to meet him because he is so funny, iconic, adorable and he is talented. He carries F1’s image, he is still a sensitive person and can get hurt, so don’t, he has SO much to give and gives with pleasure, don’t hurt him (Br*wn if catch u). No one is more Dani coded than Seungkwan (kinda Seokmin too but had to choose).

Vernon: Carlos Sainz Jr. Mf isn’t part of this world, he’s seing things we don’t, chaotic in a calm way. Looks always hot in an unfair way (i might be biased). Aware of how people perceive him as weird, thinks it’s funny or doesn’t care. Unique laugh, why do they transform into seals when they’re laughing their ass out ???

Dino: Mick Schumacher (post H**s shithole era) or Oscar Piastri. He’s is the future of F1, the boy proved himself, teams literally fought over him. Give him a mediocre car he will still pull some good result although he’s a rookie, update the car and he’s a threat to experienced drivers that have been racing for years. Also Mick personality vibe, fr there’s something. Also very sweet then BOOM, he’s fucking hot.

#scoups #choi seungcheol #jeonghan #joshua hong #svt joshua #hong jisoo #svt jun #moon junhui #junhui #hoshi #kwon soonyoung #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #woozi #jihoon #dk #dokyeom #lee seokmin #svt seokmin #kim mingyu #mingyu #minghao #xu minghao #the8 #seungkwan #boo seungkwan #vernon #hansol vernon chwe #choi hansol #michael schumacher

[svtdarlingbby]

Let's Start Some Rumors- The8xidol!Reader - Part 1

pairing: The8 x reader genre: idol au warnings: occasional cursing word count: 1,189

Summary: You and Minghao are both releasing singles the same month. Competing for the spotlight is hard, but how about sharing the spotlight?

The past few weeks have been busy to say the least. It was the first comeback after your debut as a soloist; while your debut was even more successful than predicted you knew that meant you had to make your comeback even better. Running between the dance studio, music video set, and recording studio with occasional stops to get your makeup and costume done has been hectic. Even though you couldn't have asked for more, living the dream had you busy.

Through it all however your friend Minghao aka The8 from Seventeen had your back through it all. He was just as busy as you since he was also releasing his solo this month however he made time to review your performance and give you tips. Even the smiles you exchanged while passing by him in the halls as you two attended your respective sessions was enough to reassure you through the comeback process. In fact, he even found the time to watch you perform the final scene for your music video.

You finished the final note of your comeback song, smiling even brighter as you realized this was the last of the comeback prep you had to complete. The cheers from the staff also elevated your mood!

"Great job Y/N!" cheered your manager as she hugged you as soon as the camera cut.

"Thank you manager Lina!" you smiled as you hugged her back.

"I'll get in contact with the editor ASAP. Thanks for your hard work!" she said and scurried off before you could interject.

Looking off to where your manager ran off to, you were surprised to be suddenly faced with Minghao.

"Hey Y/N, don't forget about me! You did great! Your comeback is gonna be so successful!" he said as he held up a fist to you.

"Yo Minghao! I could never! Thank you for coming!" you said, fist bumping him back. "By the way, are you done preparing for your comeback?"

"I've just gotta review the music video with the crew and edit anything before it's published!" he said handing you a bottle of water which you appreciated. The set lights are hot as hell.

"That's great! I'm so proud of you too Hao! Although it's kinda weird that you're more prepared for your comeback even though mine is first," you mentioned as you two walked through the pastel set.

"Eh maybe it's just me who wants to get stuff done early as possible," he shrugged. "But you got this. I'm gonna make the boys stream your song"

"Oh my gosh they don't have too!" you laughed and playfully pushed his shoulder.

"Hey, don't think I don't have any conditions. You better be streaming my song 13 times more!" he smirked.

"Xu Minghao I cannot with you" you playfully rolled your eyes and walked away from him.

"Y/N come back!" he whined teasingly.

"My comback's not until next Friday!" you joked, picking up your pace.

"GODDAMMIT Y/N YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT!"

You and Minghao's childish antics had the two of you erupting in laughter that echoed across the pastel music video set. You guys were just like teenagers, so full of life. That did not go unnoticed by your manager Lina and Minghao's manager.

Friday arrived faster than you expected and you felt all of the emotions. Your heart beat in excitement, nervousness, fear, and anticipation. How you wished your fans and listeners in general would fall in love with your new song you worked so hard to accomplish.

However, your hopes were shattered by the end of the day. You were thankful to have so many loyal fans buy your album and watch your music video, however numbers were still low. Lower than your debut. You found yourself glued to your phone screen that day, scrolling through various social media platforms to see what everyone had to say.

@Y/NsSmile: Y/N's comeback is sooo good! C'mon guys let’s stream their song!

@hater239: why would we stream a mediocre queen? yeah the song's okay but like her company sucked at promotion

@592luvY/N: first of all, fuck you. second of all I hate that I'm agreeing with you that HYBE could've done a better job at promoting Y/N :\

@Y/NsSmile: yeah I think the numbers would've been higher with better promotions like her debut but come on guys keep streaming!

@kpopstanrocks1244: wait Y/N had a comeback??

Interactions like these were pretty consistent through all of the social media platforms. Even the haters saw what was wrong. You weren't being promoted as much as your debut. Maybe HYBE thought the hype from your debut would carry over into your comeback? It looks like the complete opposite was happening. Feeling bummed out, you kind of isolated yourself aside from Tweeting your fans your genuine thanks for their consistent support. Just as you were about to try and sleep this feeling off, you received a text from Minghao.

Minghao: Hey Y/N, I'm so proud of you. Numbers aren't everything. Quality artists and their songs are more worth it, just like you

Despite your unhopeful mood, you felt yourself smile at his kind message.

Y/N: Hey Minghao, don't worry about it! Thank you so much for the support seriously. I hope your comeback doesn't flop lol

Minghao: bruh you're not gonna flop. it'll be fine. please take care!

Y/N: ur too kind Minghao, thank you

The short conversation ended there before you went to bed. You'd have to wake up early for some meetings and some more attempts to promote your song later tomorrow.

The next morning came quickly and you still felt groggy. The euphoria from your debut did not transfer to your comeback. Begrudgingly, you made it to the meeting room where your manager Lina told you to meet her and the higher ups. In all honesty, you wanted this meeting to end quickly since you knew you might be berated for the low numbers despite having no control over pre-comeback promotion.

"Hello-" you said as you entered the room but cut yourself off at the sight of Minghao in the meeting room.

"Good morning Y/N, take a seat" said manager Lina.

You sat down and the meeting began.

"So as we all know, Y/N's comeback did not perform as planned," said the head manager.

"Sheesh, isn't that the elephant in the room?" you thought but nonetheless tried to pay attention, averting Minghao's gaze.

"These numbers are appalling, however the comeback is still salvageable," said the head manager.

"How, sir?" asked manager Lina knowingly.

"Well, we know that Minghao's comeback in next week and we don't want the same happening to him. And we don't want to lose profit on Y/N's poor comeback. So we need publicity," said the head manager.

"Right, so Lina and the head manager have devised a plan involving both Minghao and Y/N," said Minghao's manager.

"What does the plan involve?" you asked as you glanced over at Minghao who seemed just as confused.

"We're going to create a dating scandal between Y/N and Minghao"

"WHAT?!!??"

part 2

#seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #the8 x reader #the8 scenarios #minghao x reader #minghao x y/n #seventeen fic #the8 x you #minghao x you

[revenge-of-the-shit]

Just watched Joy Ride (2023) and mixed thoughts.

Spoilers below!!

It was really, really refreshing to see East Asian women being portrayed as unapologetically raunchy and messy and terrible and fucked up. It's the first time I've seen a movie where they're NOT some out together socialite or kung fu badass or a fetishized dragon lady or delicate lotus flower. The characterization was well done and I felt like they were fleshed out pretty well, and it was a very sex-positive portrayal of East Asian women and it was done ENTIRELY without fetishizing them. It's a low bar to pass and the fact that this is the first movie I've seen that passes this bar is... depressing but it was very nice to see that they can be trashy and sexy and just be themselves.

It's the typical sort of humour you'd expect from an R-rated comedy. Not my sort of thing entirely, but I had some laughs for sure and some other reviewers thought it was hilarious.

I could tell that the film was indeed made by diaspora for diaspora. There were just so many little details sprinkled through the whole thing that I could recognize from lived experience

While the film certainly made some commentary on internalized racism, I felt like it never really followed through with exploring this theme, or that when it did, it was somewhat superficial and did not really fully address it. Same goes for exploring the theme of being in-between - something that's very, very central to diaspora - as well as the identity crisis evoked by a twist I admit I was surprised by. All of these, while they had the potential to be weaved more strongly into the film, were not really fully addressed - and while this is a comedy movie, the way that all these themes were set up as serious things to address led to a rather mediocre reaction to its execution.

The female gaze is generally very, very, very present for this film, which is once again rare to see in R-rated comedies with nudity and sex. None of the four friends are ever objectified as sex objects, and anything sexual is something they choose for their own pleasure. It's a very sex-positive take, again.

Sprinkles of queer Asian experience in there too, which is nice to see. I found Deadeye to be a very compelling character as I can relate to them in several levels, and it was really really nice to see queer Asians who can be awkward, be raunchy, be terrible, be unapologetic, a d just be human.

Plot was a typical comedy plot, so not revolutionary at all and with some plot holes, but it's a plot.

One more point under the cut with bigger spoilers but also CW: Mentions of SA.

Overall, I'd give it a 6.5 - 7/10. Not great, not bad. Could've been better. Some weird spots. But it sure is something, and I'm glad to see more Asian American rep all across different genres.

One of the biggest scenes that made me feel off was a scene where Stephanie Hsu's character, Kat, has a bag of coke up her ass, and it breaks. She freaks out because she feels it entering her system and it makes her, as she says, "very horny." At this point, she and the three others are in a hotel with a bunch of hot athletic Asian men who are friends with one of the MCs. One of the men, who's also Kat's ex, tries to hit on her and hook up with her, but she tries to reject him - she also tells him that she's engaged, which he is. He does not back off and he does not take her seriously. She runs off (to the gym). He follows.

While he definitely thinks she's sober (he has no idea she's on drugs), the rest of the gals, FULLY AWARE that Kat is completely drugged out of her mind and being hit on by someone she does not want to be with, decide to go their separate ways while wishing everyone a good time and to "have fun tonight". Nobody checks on Kat.

At that point in the film I was beginning to get extremely worried that they were going to play off a date rape-esque scenario as a humorous, joking one given how the entire tone of this scene was a humorous one.

At the end, they do not have sex, thank God.

The scene between them is indeed sexually charged. What happens is that she pulls a muscle when trying to work off the energy, and he uses a muscle blaster/massage gun on her back. He does not touch her without her asking him to, but she is still under the influence of drugs (which he doesn't know...but still...). She then grabs a basketball and puts it between her thighs, and he uses the massage gun on the basketball. Afterwards, she takes the gun and uses it on his balls, and apparently shatters his pelvis. Wow

This is never addressed afterwards, ever. The scene left me feeling rather confused and more uncomfortable than anything else in the entire movie. Maybe I'm reading too much into it but something about it was clanging bells in my head.

#non sw #Joy ride 2023 #asian representation #spoilers #Long post

[redwineconversation]

lose something, babe, risk something (Lyon - Fleury Postgame Thoughts)

Where the fuck was this Lyon last week?

It's always been true that this team plays better when vexed. They need their feelings hurt, they need to get pissed off, because it brings something out in them. They're better for it in many ways. You would have thought the possibility of not playing in a final would have brought that out in them, but apparently mediocre performances are now deemed acceptable standards.

This team got a lot of backlash after the semi-final loss, and I think it was good for them, I do. There's a somewhat flimsy argument that players should be protected at all costs. I get it in theory but fans should be able to hold players accountable for their performances. If you can say when a team played well, you should also be able to say when they played badly.

And there was a lot of the latter. There was a lot of "get rid of Bompastor" (still true), "sell the dead weight players" (also still true), and more importantly, "this team was a disgrace". The fans were frustrated and disappointed and let their feelings be known. I think that's a good thing. Hold your team accountable when they fall short of the standards you know they are capable of meeting.

I think it's necessary to do that because we saw in Friday's game what happens when Lyon does meet those standards. We saw some really good sequences of play. The movement was better, the passing was crisper. They genuinely looked better. it was nice to see Lyon being, well, Lyon again.

The standout player was obviously Dabritz. She's really become such a big game player, and is genuinely fun to watch. She's just a no-nonsense player, keeps her head down, does her job, and will do her upmost best to drag Lyon over the finish line. She's starting to show some really interesting leadership qualities too. I wonder if she will become like Endler, what the team psychiatrist referred to as a "quiet leader" in that they aren't necessarily vocal / giving big speeches, but players follow by example.

Dabritz flies under the radar a lot of the time, but I think her profile will grow. My true German royalty player. (Can I make royal monarchy jokes considering the Kate Middleton scandal going on? Ehh, why not)

It was nice to keep a clean sheet again though once more I fucking hate how everyone uses "le clean sheet" every time their goalkeeper does the minimum. It's so, so fucking annoying, especially because it was taken out of context. Anyway, defense was good, though I do think Gilles could have done better. She wasn't bad, but when you compare her with her top form, the level definitely wasn't the same. M'Bock is getting back to her pre-injury form, which is always nice to see. Bacha was a little inconsistent but it was nowhere near as inconsistent as the Coupe de France semifinal. Carpenter didn't really do anything which stood out, which is more a reflection on the defense not really having much to do for most of the game than anything else.

Van de Donk was good but not great. It's one of those situations where she played well, could have played better, but was still a good performance. The scuffle at the end which resulted in not one, not two, but three Lyon players having to intervene did make me laugh a little, especially because the audio picked up Bompastor going "Daan Daan Daan DAAN" as soon as van de Donk got up from the foul. Van de Donk is similar to Lyon in that she plays better when she is a little pissed off. Again, not her best performance ever, but she was good, it must be said.

So it was a good win, a good performance. Have they played better? Sure. But they've played worse, especially the horror show that was last week, so it's nice to see Lyon looking like themselves again before the trip to Benfica next week. Bompastor said in the postgame that she's been following Benfica closely, so we'll see that actually translates to the field or not.

#all good love stories start in the rain

[spookysalem13]

I'm home from work, infected with covid-19, yet again. As an immune compromised person, I'm starting to think covid is in love with me. This is my third infection this year alone.

I'm at the point in my infection where I'm getting worse. The old phrase "it gets worse before it gets better" comes to mind whenever I have covid.

I feel like it starts off mediocre, then you start to feel it and you're like "man this sucks"! That's when covid laughs and hits your harder.

I'm at the stage where my ears are half way plugged. It's becoming increasingly difficult to hear anything. I can't smell anymore, but I can still taste. Though taste is numbed. Nothing is like so delicious anymore it stands out. Everything kind of tastes just average.

My lungs have been burning for days now. But I haven't had a cough until today. Considering I still barely have a cough, that tells me it's still going to get worse.

My fever is so bad I'm drenched in sweat! I continuously randomly fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Due to my fever I'm having fever dreams. Shaking in my sleep even.

This isn't fun, I'm struggling with this infection. My immune system is having a rough time kicking it out.

Once again, they've put me on Paxlovid. The medication used in treating high risk patients, such as myself, for covid-19.

I'm writing all of this, even if no one reads it. Because I personally like to look back at where I was during certain times. Also, for those who do read, and are a part of my spooky community here on tumblr, just know you can probably expect me to posting more this upcoming week, as I will be stuck in bed.

And finally, because I am immune compromised. I have multiple autoimmune diseases as well as a ton of other chronic health conditions. It personally upsets me when people talk about how the pandemic is so called "over" or how covid is "irrelevant" now.

That is so far from the truth. In fact, covid is worse now than it ever was when we were on lockdown. The virus is also stronger now. It's learning to beat our vaccines. Which is why new ones keep immerging.

It's a deadly virus that's constantly mutating, it spreads at a rapid rate, especially during this time of year.

I tell you how my body is handling the virus, even before it hits its peak, so hopefully some more people can understand why this virus is dangerous. Why we must protect the vulnerable like myself. And even everyone for that matter.

One single covid-19 infection leaves life long health implications. We're already seeing it play out.

This virus was supposed to be far more complex than we understand. Please don't take it lightly and don't make jokes. Please take precautions when out in public and remember. The pandemic isn't over.

#covid #covid19 #covid 19 #covid isn't over #long covid #corona virus #coronavirus #quarantine #lockdown #pandemic #covid 19 pandemic #wear a mask #please wear a mask #social distancing #take precautions #be safe #immune compromised #chronic illness #autoimmunedisease #autoimmune #autoimmine disease #chronically ill #chronic fatigue #liberal #socialism #activism #socialist #im sick #contagious #political activist