Tumgik
#neither of which do i actually have written out and i am not going to try to put together in just a few days?
kitorin · 10 hours
Text
misalignment (n).
/ˌmɪsəˈlʌɪnm(ə)nt/
the incorrect arrangement or position of something in relation to something else. "in which, mikage reo finds himself both asphyxiated and confined within the unfortunate circumstances of his first love."
Tumblr media
contents. mikage reo x gn!reader, unrequited feelings, no happy ending, right person wrong time (i think), reader and reo borderline drunk / wasted, unproofread misery, tiny implication at gaslighting but nothing like that happens, never written unrequited love nor experienced it (can't get rejected if i never confess !!)
Tumblr media
Despite the intelligence and academic prowess he had maintained throughout his entire lifetime, Mikage Reo is fundamentally a fool; one who unwisely but desperately deludes himself as a means to remain blind to the truth.
The 'wanna hang out tonight?' text was the flame to his moth, effortlessly attracting him whilst having the full capability to incinerate his very existence, to destroy every part of him.
If years of friendship accompanied by unreciprocated feelings could teach him anything, it was that, to spend time with you, lining up was a prerequisite for Reo.
Free time for you was defined by work's leniency (which seldom seems to happen, but at least you enjoyed it), and the occasional period where you weren't obsessing over a drama or book series.
After that section of the queue, was quite literally everyone else. An invitation from you meant that Yukimiya was too preoccupied with modelling, Rin's overseas, Nagi was too lazy to respond and left you on read, Isagi's busy training, Kunigami's at the gym, and Hiori didn't have the time to travel that far.
Finally there was Reo, back up plan Reo, the friend that you could go to when no one was available; the friend you liked enough to spend time with but not enough to prioritise.
He steals a glance at you as you keenly sip from your glass. Self-hatred chews at his conscience, but the livid, and tired part of him shoos it away.
It's not a very nice thing to accuse one of thinking of another so lowly, especially a close friend, however the explicit signs of him holding little significance in comparison to others seemed to validate it. You and he have been drinking for a while now, without much word other than the 'hello's and quiet greetings when you first saw each other.
It's normal, the silence. It's just how things worked between you and Reo. Neither of you were particularly social, words weren't necessary to enjoy time together, that was one of Reo's favourite things about you.
He's always tired of speaking, having to maintain flawless image, that included appearing as someone sociable and eager to speak with others.
But with you, that expectation was nowhere to be seen.
You're now adults, but this is nothing different from the quiet walks to the bus stop back in high school. The ones where he'd do his best to steal a glance of how you look, soaked within the sunlight while smiling.
Chatter permeates the bar's atmosphere gently a few clinks of glasses can be heard which followed hearty laughter and the occasional cheer.
You're first to talk. "How's university been?"
"Good." Was the workload horrendous? Yes, and so was adulthood in general. Reo knows he has it easy; he can afford it easily and could still live comfortably without working a day in his life. But he still yearns for the same feeling high school had. "Hakuho was fun though."
You place your drink down, swallowing. "I know right? Never thought I'd say this, but I miss high school. It sucked most of the time. But you and the others made it so much better.”
Reo nods, as he gulps down more alcohol. “I miss it too. How has studying been for you?”
You huff. “It’s a lot. I feel like I spend more time studying than doing anything else. But it’s good. I don’t mind since I’m actually studying something I’m passionate about, you know?”
“I’m glad, then.” Reo stares at his whisky, swirling the amber in his glass. “Proud of you. I really am. You’ve come so far, and I just know you’re going to do well.”
Growing from a clueless high schooler to a driven, impassioned, medical student. A lot has changed, years pass yet he remains unloved by you.
God there he goes again, lamenting on his paltriness. It must be a relative of masochism; he could be safe and secure at home with a good book and cup of tea, yet he’s here drinking with the source of his pain, while tethering on the border of being intoxicated with alcohol instead of heartbreak.
With each drink, a wave of euphoria swallows him up, licking up his misery as if it were sand on the shore. Rationality and emotion bicker like seagulls quarrelling over food.
You laugh at his sweet words. “You drunk? Thanks though.”
“Drunk or not, I mean it. Seriously.” Reo knows his limits, but doesn’t bother correcting you. His face feels hot, not because of the soju, but because of you.
You’ve always been pretty, to a ridiculous extent. But absurd how a few years changes you so much. Reo can’t even identify the changes, he just knows you’ve gotten prettier; that his heart races faster whenever he sees you.
“Seriously.” You echo, and nod, and smile. “I miss seeing you every day. School was so much fun with you around.”
Another hasty gulp of soju. Reo can’t stand hearing those words.
I hate you.
Is it directed to you, or himself? Not even Reo’s quite sure. He does his best to ignore your kindness, if it were true then he would’ve been addressed you with a smile in the same way you’d speak to anyone else; he would know how his name sounds off your tongue. He would mean more than a last option, and all those texts wouldn’t be left on read, viewed out of genuine care rather than basic manners.
Even though he can go on about unfair this feels, it’s ultimately his fault for still spending so much time with you. You’re supposed to cut off the people who don’t value you. You’re supposed to only care for the ones who’d do the same for you. Reo should’ve cut ties with you long ago, yet he clings onto your relationship as if it meant more than anything else.
I miss seeing you at school everyday. Your words echo, and he does his best not to choke on his drink.
Formalities, not affection. It's not love, it's your way of manners. If you truly did care you'd be spewing those sorts of words out constantly, like when you're with Chigiri, or Anri.
"Reo? You good?"
"Yeah. 'm fine." It's a reflex, he barely had time to register the words leaving his mouth. "Are you?"
"Yah. I'm not the drunk one here am I?" You chuckle to yourself, bringing the glass back to your lips, averting your gaze elsewhere. "Were you always a lightweight? Your face is so red."
"And yours is so pretty."
There he goes, ruining your night with something stupid.
"Yup. Definitely drunk. You're saying weird things now."
And with that, Reo commands, requests, pleads himself not to cry.
"You know." Another shot of soju is swallowed down by you, punctuated with a refreshed gasp. "The me a couple of years ago would've been overjoyed to hear that."
It feels as though every interaction with you accentuates his one-sided love and it stings; time with you is mere salt to the wound.
Neither of you say anything for a bit.
Reo can recall your confession, an awkward text sent after a couple of months the two of you actually spoke. There's an unspoken boundary between you two, to not being up the topic of each other's crushes or of your confession.
A fair rule, but it's harboured questions. Reo hasn't got a clue on your love life and crushes. He knows of your obsession with romantic dramas, always binging whatever's trending, screaming on social media about having to wait a full seven days for the next episode.
If only the two of you were a part of one. But even fiction would probably destine him for solitude woven of heartbreak.
"I think you're the drunk one. Why bring that up now?"
You've finally halted on drinking. "Dunno. That was my first confession."
And you're my first love—he wants to say it, it's at the tip of his tongue yet he can't muster it to say it aloud to himself or even to Nagi; let alone you.
"Well, it was an honour."
It wasn't. Because the thought always intrudes into his mind. What if you had confessed a couple of years later, or even at least two?
Or what if Reo hadn't taken his sweet time to fall in love with you, if he had told you he wanted to get to know you first instead of a simple rejection, would you be in his arms?
"Shut up. I was a stupid kid back then. I promise you, I have absolutely no feelings for you. Not anymore."
Reo scoffs, he can't even fantasise of the potential between you two. You liked Mikage you'd see in the hallways; rich and top of the school; not clingy old Reo who feels ever so slightly too much for everyone he cares for.
Whereas Reo couldn't care less about l/n that just transferred to his class, but would die for the y/n he discovered throughout the years.
"Yeah yeah, I know. Never thought you did." He knew you didn't.
It wouldn't've saved him from his doom of unrequited love, but the timing was terrible. The heavens should've made your infatuation and his adoration align, at the very least. Even if it meant Reo remaining unloved.
A hiccup follows a breathless giggle. "Who did you like in highschool? There had to be someone. Why didn't you ever tell me though? You had so many fans, you must've liked one of them."
Because it's you. "Because you never asked." Reo shrugs, almost impressed at his own feigned composure.
"Now I ammm." Now your words are beginning to slur. "Whooo?"
It's you. And still you. Reo could say it right here and now. You're essentially wasted and probably won't remember it. And if you did, he wouldn't mind crossing an ethical line and fibbing if it meant concealing his pathetic vulnerabilities.
Perhaps one day he'll tell you, if the uninterrupted storm ends, and the skies clear, if Mikage Reo's heart will one day stop aching for you.
"I'll tell ya some day. When I feel like it."
"What?! You're not allowed to add that much suspense—and not tell me in the end."
And perhaps in another universe, he and you can be of the same constellation, instead of being galaxies apart.
Tumblr media
taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz
Tumblr media
© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate
60 notes · View notes
xcziel · 2 years
Text
.
#i am going to a referral to have someone look at my blood work#they sent me a dozen pages of paperwork to fill out and want me to bring my will and power of attorney#neither of which do i actually have written out and i am not going to try to put together in just a few days?#it is a consultation#like ok if i were going into the hospital but literally he's supposed to look at my blood cell count#there's not any point where they need to see my legal paperwork?#like medical history ok i understand and i understand wanting to know my medications#but i'm not disrupting my entire life for a consult that may not even be relevant?#like my referring doctor is just guessing at things now she has no idea what's going on#gonna call them and be like sorry i'm not trying to find a lawyer and draw up paperwork in a week while also working#i don't think it's even legal to ask to see someone's will? like what the fuck?#my parent's were being treated for stuff and we had to dig the wills out of my dad's files#nether one had an official power of attorney filed i don't think or medical power of attorney#like how is that your business when i haven't even met the doctor yet and may not even want to deal with your practice?#this thing where medical practitioners just assume you're going to go along with whatever they say is really irksome#like the ct scan place they're like you might be going straight to the hospital if your doctor says so#when at no time was i ever warned or given intimations that that was a possibility?#like what if i had plans? or a pet or a kid? like you have to let people know about things ahead of time?#especially if it's not an emergency?
7 notes · View notes
axiina · 5 months
Note
I saw your post about writing for Coriolanus Snow Andi was thinking classic enemies to lovers nsfw I’ll give you free liberty with everything else 💕
'I hate you' is new 'I love you'
Tumblr media
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!reader (gender neutral afab)
Summary: When your professor tells you to come to an agreement with your enemy, and you take 'come' too literally.
Words: 3.2k
Themes: smut, nsfw
Warnings: using of 'you' to reader, set before events of tbosas so no actual spoilers, more like academic rivals to lovers but they want to fight at some point so I guess it counts, NSFW | public sex (or more semi-public), unprotected sex (wrap it before tap it), p in v sex, kinda toxic but it's enemies to lovers, more like enemies who fuck, Coryo is pretty rough and possessive, marking, making out, idiots in love but they prefer fighting with each other
Author's note: I found some free time between studying, so I decided that I can no longer delay. English is not my first language so i hope that i didn't do too much mistakes. It is possible that a single "she" or "her" will appear here because I changed the concept during writing and I do not know if I got rid of everything. Let me know whether to stay with the use of 'you' or maybe replace it with personal pronouns or 'y/n'. I hope it's not written very awkwardly and you will like it!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Coriolanus Snow is a peculiar person. Most people love him. Nice, classy, handsome and rich from a wealthy family. What more could one want? However, one of Coriolanus' traits that everyone seems to turn a blind eye to is his two-facedness. Some say this is merely a symptom of his cunning and wits. He knows when and how to behave to make his counterpart happy. You are not one of those people. Saying that you and Coriolanus Snow don't like each other is a huge understatement. You guys hate each other. From the very beginning when you both met at the academy it was known that you would cause a lot of problems. Too much of a character difference, or perhaps too much of a similarity between the two. However, this is not what is crucial. Whatever it is, it makes you two most likely to kill each other if you could. Every move you make you do to screw each other up. To prove who is better.
Professor Satyria's pleas for you to finally come to an agreement are of little use. The conflict must go on, and neither of you has any intention of giving up.
You like the way things are working out. At first, Snow was annoying and you didn't understand how people couldn't see him for what he really was. Fake. Now he is still annoying, but getting under his skin has become a sort of routine. Quite a pleasant one.
"You have to get along with each other and set a good example as rightful citizens of the Capitol, otherwise the Academy will draw out the consequences."
Professor Satyria's words continue to ring in your ears as you get ready to go home after finishing classes and doing punishment work. On the one hand, you don't want something as silly as arguing to weigh on your future, but on the other hand, reaching out to agree is like admitting you were wrong. Failure.
"Wherever I am you must also appear. Are you obsessed with me?" Behind your back, you heard a familiar, annoyingly kind voice, in which you could sense some arrogance. You groaned turning around to see no one else but Coriolanus.
"Don't you have anything better to do? People are finally getting tired of your idiocy?" Your words, however, did not budge the blond. His expression remained unchanged. One that might make most people think he is a nice person. You, however, have known him long enough to see right through it. Perfect. Too perfect.
"We need to talk. A positive outcome for both sides. It will interest you." Well, the threat of Satyria. He is the first one to extend his hand for agreement. Where is the trick? You look at him suspiciously without saying a word, and so Snow takes it as a sign that you are thinking about the proposition. "Do you have free time? Maybe we could go out somewhere together?"
The suggestion makes you burst into laughter. "With you? No thanks, I'll pass on this pleasure."
Coriolanus is not surprised by your answer. He knew it wouldn't be that easy. Accepting rejection, however, is not his strong point. He is annoyed by your behaviour, but he bites his tongue to avoid responding in the same spiteful way. Instead, he doesn't give up.
"I know we were never on good terms, but I want this war between us to end. I hope we can put behind us all the bad things that happened between us and start fresh. What do you think about this?" he says, sounding quite sincere.
"Let me think." You say and sigh, pondering the answer, which is obvious, but you can't let go of a little malice. "No."
The expression on Snow's face became more serious. It seems that your refusal offended his pride. But he doesn't show it in his tone of voice.
"Why not?" he asks and you notice how he clenches his jaw and his gaze becomes unpleasant.
You enjoy the view and it fills you with satisfaction. "Because you think that with a pretty face and fake politeness, you can get anything. Maybe it works with others, but I'm not that stupid. Additionally, you are damn annoying. That's why."
The expression on Snow's face becomes dark. Typical when he fails to get what he wants. His usual tone is completely gone. His face is twisted with anger. He still tries to maintain a polite voice. The attempt fails.
"Do you want to repeat it?" he asks through his teeth. It's obvious that you've hit one of his sensitive points. That was the plan.
"Exhausting, isn't it? Hiding behind the mask of a nice and put-together boy from a highly placed family who is a veritable ideal is tiring, isn't it?" A mockery can be heard in your voice. Coriolanus is very sensitive to it.
"What do you think you know about me?" He asks through clenched teeth, his tone no longer artificially polite, it is filled with rage. Your mockery has really gotten to him. He tries to calm down, but it's all in vain. Coriolanus has never had problems with self-control, but something about you makes him ready to abandon everything. You manage to get him off balance with ease. In his head, he has one plan. To destroy you.
"Do you think you pretend so well?" You burst out laughing and shake your head. You know you shouldn't say such things. The academy is practically empty, and Coriolanus's angry enough can be unpredictable. However, you can't help but point out everything that annoys you about him. "It's actually quite easy to see what kind of person you are. You look at people with disgust, but when they look in your direction, you suddenly change dramatically. how fake you are to everyone. I wonder how they don't see it. How empty and shallow you are."
"You don't know anything about me!" Snow shouts at you, his face twisted with rage. He is barely able to control himself. He doesn't even try to hide it anymore. He stares at you with hatred in his eyes.
"Don't you dare assume that you know everything about me. You don't know me one bit. You don't know what my life is like. Don't think so highly of yourself. You aren't better than me." He continues, his voice getting louder with every word he says. You really hit his sensitive spot.
"I don't know everything and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. For me, the most important thing is acts, and in your case, they are fake and two-faced. You despise people, and you yourself are at the bottom." Irritation takes over. You know that at any moment you can say one word too many if you haven't already. However, someone has to talk it all out for him. Adrenaline makes you take a step closer to the upset boy without considering the possible consequences.
Snow seems to be on the verge of a breakdown. His fists are clenched and his eyes are wide open with rage. He is breathing hard, trying to control himself. He's not used to being treated this way by anyone. He has come this far over the years, solely because of himself and what role he has taken in society. You really succeeded in hurting his pride. "I warn you right now. Don't mock me any further."
"Why? What will you do? hit me? do it, I dare you. Then everyone will see how "perfect" you really are." You know the situation is starting to get dangerous. However, you come closer. It's stupid, you know it, and yet you do it. Maybe it's the way his reactions give you satisfaction, or maybe it's the way he looks at you.
You can see the hatred oozing from his eyes when they are locked on yours. His face is full of rage, his breathing heavy and his muscles tense.
He takes a step toward you with a clenched fist. You can see his knuckles turning white. He grabs you and presses you against the wall, his body against yours.
A second later, you feel him pressing you against the wall tighter than before, and his hand grips your throat.
You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. Your heart is pounding as if it wants to jump out of your chest. You feel a strange sensation in your lower abdomen. His eyes are cold, yet they make a pleasant shiver run through your body. His face is right next to yours, flesh pressing against yours. It was a matter of split seconds as you two pressed your lips to each other in an aggressive and hungry kiss.
He returns the kiss, wrapping his free hand around you. He seems to enjoy the kiss as much as you do.
You can feel his body trembling as he still tries to keep control of his overwhelming emotions, or maybe it's because of the situation you're in.
The two of you kiss aggressively. Snow's body shakes as he fights between his desire and how much you get on his nerves. You feel how rough but passionate his kiss is.
He draws you closer and your bodies press against each other. The friction of your bodies makes you uncontrollable over the muffled whimpers you make. You feel the bulge forming in his pants rubbing against your body.
The situation seems hazy, and only fragments register in your mind. How you both enter the bathroom without stopping your hungry and clumsy kisses, and your hands work to get rid of clothes that only makes it difficult. How Coriolanus presses your body against the wall slamming his hips against yours.
All this is to express yourself and give vent to all the negative emotions you have been holding for years.
Snow's body is now almost completely controlled by his emotions. His movements seem full of hatred and at the same time passion. He just wants to express himself using his flesh to claim you as his own.
You feel as if you are on fire, your body moves and reacts according to your desires. The tension that has built up between you for years is finally released, and it all comes out as raw passion.
His fast and aggressive movements make the place where your bodies meet burn in a pleasant way, and you think to yourself that it will be a miracle if you walk normally tomorrow. His dick stretches you nicely and his movements make your inside sting slightly. It's not a problem for now. Not now when your legs are wrapped around his waist and the only sounds you can make right now are moaning and repeating his name like a mantra.
Your body trembles at how rough his movements are, but you don't care now. The most important thing for you now is to show him how much you hate him. A broken moan leaves your lips when he reaches deeper.
Coriolanus feels your legs tighten around him. He moves slower now but is more passionate and rough. He holds your hips tightly, not caring if it is uncomfortable for you. His lips move to your neck, where he bites as if he is trying to unload all the emotions you are causing you this way.
His hips buck firmly against you. Each thrust makes your body more tired and aching but at the same time, it makes the whole experience even more pleasurable. If someone told you that you would end up having sex with your biggest rival in the academy bathroom, you would laugh in that person's face. There you are, panting, with your arms around his neck when Coriolanus Snow is abusing your cunt sensitive from too much friction.
Coriolanus brings his lips closer to your ear. His warm and irregular breathing makes a shiver go through your body. "Do you like it when I claim you as mine?" He purrs, his voice still filled with desire.
"I hate you, I hate you so much," You exhale in a trembling voice that takes a lot of trouble to keep from cracking. You bite and suck at the smooth skin of his neck, leaving there dark marks. "I hate you, Coriolanus Snow."
"I hate you too," Snow says with a low growl as he continues to hold you. He bites your shoulder, leaving marks on your skin. His moans are muffled by your skin, which he touches constantly, as if afraid that at any moment you might escape and leave behind only a faint memory.
You hate him, but you enjoy him. You are pleased when he takes you as his own. You are excited when he uses your body. You feel his passion and desire through his body. You feel his raw passion and it's hard to hate him now.
"oh go to hell" You hiss and bite your lower lip to stop your moans, feeling him moving faster.
He doesn't care if he hurts you or not. All he cares about is that you belong to him right now. His hips slam against yours in an aggressive peace. The bathroom is filled with sinful noises because you don't even think about the fact that someone might come in and hear them.
"you may have already fallen in love, but with me, it's not so easy" A trembling laugh leaves your lips. You feel your head getting foggier and foggier. It's hard for you to put together a meaningful sentence, "but you're doing a good job" a loud moan leaves your mouth. you close your eyes and throw your head back "mmm my sweet toy."
He hears your moans of pleasure, and his eyes close with a smile. He has won and he knows it. Snow always lands on top. He presses you against the wall with his body even tighter. His movements become more sloppy and deeper as if he wants to bury himself inside you. His body trembles as his lips leave broken moans and whimpers.
Passion is so strong that you can almost forget about hatred. You can almost fall in love with Coriolanus Snow. Almost. But you know that what you feel now is only lust, and you know that it's all temporary.
Not him. Not the arrogant boy whose whole life is based on lies. Not that boy who doesn't care about anyone. Not that boy with a beautiful face and mesmerizing blue eyes. Not him.
You press closer to his body, almost clinging to him as a wave of pleasure sweeps over your body.
Coriolanus lets out a raspy throaty moan feeling your walls pulsate around him. His voice is low and shaky. He doesn't seem to notice anything except the way you cling to his body. He moves faster and harder, making sure he satisfies you completely.
Snow is fully immersed in feelings. He can't think clearly or rationally. He only knows that he has to claim you, that he has to satisfy his needs. He wants to feel you and make the most of the situation. All his thoughts and desires are focused on you. His hip movements speed up as he reaches the climax. He hides his face in your neck to muffle his moans. His body stiffs as he comes inside you.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, while his wrapped around your waist. you cling to each other, still not making contact with the real world as your breathing slowly calms down.
What happened in that bathroom is over, they both return to reality. Snow steps back slightly and helps you stand on your own two feet. He looks at you with heavy eyes. All the emotions he had been hiding inside him had finally been released.
He has won and he knows it. He has succeeded. But what now? Was it really worth it? This is not a question for now. Coriolanus does not look far into that future with his thoughts.
You look at each other in silence. Slowly you begin to realize what you have done and now you look at each other awkwardly and somewhat panicked.
Coriolanus is the first to break the silence. His cheeks are flushed and his breathing is faster. The passion he felt a minute ago still lingers in his heart, something he tries to hide from you. He looks at you with a somewhat absent and uncertain gaze
"Do you think we should forget what just happened?" He tries to make his voice sound normal as if nothing had happened.
"Definitely." The words leave your lips before you have time to think. You stare at each other in silence for a few more moments and begin to quickly put on your clothes.
Snow is surprised at how quickly you agree with him. He needs to make sure this is the end of what just happened between the two of you, so he adds.
"If anyone asks, it never happened." He now looks at you with a somewhat panicked expression on his face.
"You don't have to tell me," you scoff, buttoning your shirt, "if you tell even one soul, I'll kill you, I swear."
Coriolanus looks at you with small amusement while fixing his jacket. "I hope you won't become obsessed with me after this."
"Maybe in your dreams," you say with a slight smile fixing the collar of his shirt. " you better be careful that you are the one who will be lost in memories of me." Before you leave the bathroom you stop in front of the mirror and fix your uniform and hair. Coriolanus smiles for a moment but then quickly clears his throat and tries to look cold.
You both come out of the bathroom, look at each other and part your lips, as if to say something to each other, but you look at each other in silence "Now everything is back to normal. We can still hate each other," you say, but this does not improve your mood at all.
"It never happened," Snow says trying to look you in the eyes, wondering if you're thinking about it too. He wonders if what he feels is real, or if it's just a moment of passion.
"Never" You agree by nodding your head. Your gaze goes down to his mouth. As you look into his eyes again without a moment's thought you move closer to him and press your lips to his in-hungry kiss. He kisses you back wrapping his arms around you to bring your body closer.
You parts away after some time and you both catch your breath for a moment after this passionate kiss. Coriolanus is completely consumed with passion and there is nothing in his mind but you.
You move away and nod to each other as if you have just made a deal and each is walking in your own direction in a much better mood.
Maybe that's not exactly what Professor Satyria meant when she said you two should come to an agreement, but it certainly worked.
2K notes · View notes
gallusrostromegalus · 2 years
Note
You don't think matcha is tea????
Matcha isn't a Tea in my humble Opinion.
Matcha is an experience.
The year is 2009, the place is the University of Hawai'i at Manoa in Honolulu, and I am recovering from a still-undiagnosed disease that left me with a 100+ degree for over three weeks, extreme weight loss and permanent Brain Damage.  I have signed up for an introductory Art History class because I need an additional Humanities credit.
It's called "The History and Philosophy of the Japanese Tea Ceremony", and for a class I can only sort of remember, it stands out.
So I'm in professor Roberts' Japanese Tea Ceremony  class, looking and feeling like death warmed over, but I'm genuinely interested in the subject matter and show up to every class because I have nothing better to do, and ask questions and turn in my homework, even if neither are particularly coherent at times, and rapidly become his favorite student.  The thing I learned in public school was how to show up to events even if I don't want to, analyze tests and other written materials for patterns and charm educators by holding up my end of a conversation, skills that have served me in the modern world far more than learning actual course content would have.
The Tea Ceremony, historically, takes a good month to prepare and the entire evening to carry out- the guest list is curated to create social bonds and intellectual stimulation alike, a poem is composed for the season, and a seasonal flower arrangement created to decorate the space. When the guests arrive, they must all crawl through a small door to enter the tea garden, regardless of profession or rank.  Hands are ritually washed in spring water, and there is a slow processional walk through the garden, to admire the artistry of the landscaping, and the composition of seasonal elements to create this particular night of beauty.  The entire ceremony is about appreciating both the joy of existing right now, in this time and place, and the unification of the self and the universe and the endless cycles of nature. 
The guests arrive at the tea house and meet the Tea Master, who will be making the Matcha that evening. The guests are seated in particular order, the Most Revered Guest- sometimes a high-ranking official, sometimes a visiting scholar or artist- is seated closest to the Tea Master.  The Poem is read aloud.  The Flowers are admired.  The tools for making the Matcha are taken out, examined as objects of art, and their history told.  The matcha powder itself is taken out- the case examined, the cultivation of the tea discussed, and only then does the Tea Master make the Tea. 
Matcha is not brewed- it's a fine powder made of crushed green tea leaves, and the powder is whisked together with not-quite-boiling water in a bowl to create a much more substantial and flavorful drink.  This drink is presented to the Most Revered Guest first, who is expected to take a sip and, in a moment of Zen spiritual clarity, comment on its flavor and how all the elements of the tea, art, garden and season all complement each other, and perhaps offer some sort of philosophical statement.
At least,
That's how it's supposed to go.
About a month before the spring semester is over, Professor Roberts announces that he has a surprise for his class- a good friend of his, a Professional Tea Master, will be visiting Hawai'i, and has agreed to perform a Tea Ceremony for our class!  I am very excited. The other 10 people in class are varying levels of amiably confused to distressed by having to go to An Event (TM) for a grade, but agree. One of my classmates, an astrology hoe named Jessica, pointed out that with the 11 students, Professor Roberts, and the Tea Master, there will be 13 people present, which is basically inviting disaster.
"Jessica." Sighed Professor Roberts. "It's a Tea Ceremony. What disaster could happen?"
Despite Jessica's misgivings, Preparations for the ceremony went on.  We learned about Ikebana while deciding on the Ceremonial Bouquet and tried our hands at it with what Professor Robert could get at the grocery store for $12. We learned about calligraphy and different types of poetic compositions while making the Seasonal Poem, and stain the hell out of the classroom carpet learning the brush strokes.  We learn about different types of Matcha Bowl sculpting and glazing and we are not allowed to touch the demonstration bowls or the kiln because Professor Roberts was beginning to suspect that some of his students (me)  were suffering from coordination issues. I apply myself with zeal, if not necessarily talent.  I was, at the time, an Art Major, but my professors in the art department had been grading me on a secret "this bitch almost died last semester and is re-learning how to hold a pencil" curve, and boy howdy did I stumble and break leaves and splatter ink like it.
Despite my ongoing unmonitored recovery, Professor Roberts viewed my enthusiastic class participation with rose-colored glasses, and about a week before the ceremony we had a class where he brought out the used Kimonos and Obi and other forms of japanese dress he'd borrowed from the theater department so that we would be traditionally dressed(ish) and experience the ceremony authentically(ish).  While people were trying on clothes to see what would fit, he took me aside and told me he wanted me to be in the position of Most Revered Guest, the person who makes the zen statement upon which the entire event hinges.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I asked.
"You're the only person who doesn't fall asleep in class and you talked about how the flowers stagger their blooms to not compete for the bees- you're perfectly engaged and conscious of the seasons!" He said, blindly. "You will need different shoes though."  He indicated my flip-flops.  "I won't make you learn how to walk in Geta, but nothing with Heels. Ballet flats are fine."
"...These are the only shoes I own." I said.
Professor Roberts stared at me.
"-I used to have a pair of sneakers but I think a homeless guy stole them while I was at the beach last month."
"What?" Roberts blinked.
"He probably needed them more than I do. I'll see if I can borrow some flats."
"...I don't think I've ever met a woman with less than 10 pairs of shoes."  Said Roberts.
"I'm not a woman, I'm and undergrad." I said, still three years away from learning the term 'Nonbinary'.  "Those are Jordan's only pair of shorts, you know." I pointed at my classmate, who had been wearing the one (1) pair of basketball shorts for the entire semester.
"I WASH THEM." Jordan shouted defensively, wearing the longest Men's Kinmo the theater department had, which barely came down to the top of his calves.
"Oh God." Said Roberts, a horrifying new world opening up to him like a tub of Expired sour cream.
*
It was the day of the Ceremony.
The Seasonal Theme we'd worked on was "The Turn Of Summer", and the weather was complying maliciously. 
Normally, Tea Ceremonies are scheduled for the more temperate evening, but due to the school needing to host something in the adjoining cultural center later, we could only use the Tea Garden in the middle of the afternoon, and the summer sun was a sweltering 98 degrees and a similar level of Humidity.  The Camelias were melting.
Where Jordan had difficulty finding a Kimono that suited his ent-like proportions, I'd had the opposite problem and the only Kimono short enough to not trip my Hobbit-sized self was a Child’s size.  My roommate had helped me get into the Kimono and Obi before the ceremony, and leant me a pair of her Ballet Flats, but we discovered an issue- this Kimono was designed for a flat-chested prepubescent youth, and even though I barely scraped 5'0", I had the robust proportions of an Irish Peasant, and the only way to avoid displaying a frankly offensive amount of cleavage was to use the widest Obi we could find and sort of tuck my boobs into it. 
"Hm" I said. "Kind of hard to breathe."
"Yeah, but you're sitting for most of it, right?  It can't last more than an hour, so just like, shuffle and don't talk much?"  She suggested.
To her credit, the first forty-five minutes of the ceremony only involved shuffling through the gardens and not talking while the Tea Master lectured us on some of the finer points of the garden's design. 
But then we got to the Tea House- a small structure only barely able to accommodate the 13 of us, which was in the shade but hotter than the outside because of the roaring fire in the middle of the room, where the water for the Matcha was boiling.  The room was surrounded by a narrow sort of porch, part of which hung over the Koi pond, where several massively overfed carp blurbled expectantly for treats at the arrival of humans. I sat down, legs folded under me like Professor Roberts had insisted, and realized that this pushed the Obi UP, and now my rib cage was being compressed in all directions.
I tried to pay attention to the rest of the ceremony, but two and a half hours is an awfully long time to listen about lecturers you've already heard when your body is undergoing a sort of internal horserace to see if the heatstroke, sciatica pain and numbness, allergies or suffocation-by-compression will cause you to pass out first.  My legs had gone numb below the knee by the time we were done with the flower arrangement.  My entire legs were numb before we were done with the Poem.  By the time the Tea Utensils came out, I was seeing spots of colored light in my vision and could only breathe if I focused on it very, very hard.
But! The ceremony was genuinely interesting! and Professor Roberts was counting on me!  So I did my best not to sway or throw up from watching the Tea Master whisk the Matcha, and dutifully took the bowl with a pair of hands that felt like slabs of ham that I was attempting to puppet from another dimension, and took a sip.
They say that Smell and Taste are far more closely connected to the emotional centers of the brain than any other sense, and I believe it because the instant I inhaled both the grassy, powdery smell, and tasted the moderately viscous bubbly liquid, I experienced an intense flashbulb memory back to a previous late May-
The Year was '98, the place was my elementary school art room, and we'd been using the seasonal hot weather to paint on a massive scale as the art dried quickly- each third-grader had been given a roll of butcher paper, a cheap brush, squirts of non-toxic paint and a water cup, and allowed to go hog-wild on our murals, and the rush of creative energy and the imminent sense of freedom as the semester drew to a close truly embodied the summer of youth, carefree but with an almost psychotic fervor, where lack of care was both freeing and dangerous as you lost track of your surroundings in the act of creation-
Which isn't a bad seasonal-philosophical connection statement to make, but the actual words that came out of my mouth were:

"Wow. This tastes exactly like paint."

The first sound I heard after the moment of silence was the cartoonishly loud gasp of horror from Professor Roberts, which was almost immediately drowned out by the thunderclap of laughter from the Tea Master, slapping his thighs and wiping tears from his face, unable to stop. I desperately tried to explain the connection between the fact I might be dying of heat stroke right now, and how I ended up drinking my paint water back in Mrs. Krantz's art class because back then I was also dying of heat stroke, but mostly ended up wheezing half-formed sentences as the rest of the class took sips and offered opinions varying between "Wow, that's thick. Like a Hot smoothie." and "Oh yeah, it tastes like summer. Like how a freshly-mowed lawn smells like summer." Professor Roberts slowly melted into a pile of shame, and the Tea Master slapped him on the back, still howling with laughter.
"They're honest! Nobody else will be honest!  This is magnificent!"  he wheezed.
Eventually, everyone had their taste, and the ceremony was concluded.  The second the Tea Master had packed up his tools and stepped outside for a breath of fresh air, Professor Roberts was in my face.
"HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT?" he hissed, grabbing my arm and pulling me up. "GO APOLOGIZE RIGHT NOW!"  he shoved me out onto the porch where the Tea Master was looking at the Koi, who had started bubble-begging aggressively again.
Except that my legs felt like blocks of wood that my pelvis was renting from another planet where legs hadn’t been invented yet, my vision was entirely static between the dehydration and lack of oxygen, and my vestibuar system had fucked off an hour ago, leaving me to stay upright by purely by the virtue of the over-tightened Obi.  So instead of bowing and apologizing profusely like my professor expected, what I actually did was stumble out of the room, say something like "Hsdfkf" and topple head-first into the koi pond.
Fortunately, the impact of the bottom of the pond with the top of my skull activated a sort of last-resort emergency self preservation system and I inhaled with enough force to break the Obi-Jime and probably a couple ribs from the pain that hit both my sides like lightning.  Unfortunately, the thing I was inhaling was fish-shit riddled Pond Water, so my emergency self-preservation system ordered an even harder Exhale. 
The Tea Master, to his immense credit, had immediately jumped in after me, and pulled me upright just in time for me to forcibly exhale half a gallon of rancid pond water directly into his face, then start screaming.  Screaming is an extremely appropriate reaction to have when injured, because it alerts everyone that you require medical attention, but is very unpleasant to experience from four inches away, which is probably why he then immediately dropped me.
Fortunately the pond wasn't very deep and this time I sat there, scream-gasping as my lungs reinflated, Koi fish burbling and sucking at me with tremendous excitement, until the EMT from the campus clinic arrived, a vanguard before the actual ambulance.
"Okay uh. You're bleeding." he said, cautiously wading into the pond.
I opened my eyes to find that I had apparently acquired a large and profusely bleeding head wound, which had activated some long-suppressed Shark Instincts in the Koi, which were eagerly gumming at the streams of blood and trying to suck on my forehead. "Good thing they don’t have teeth." I said in the distant bliss that only zen masters and people with serious head injuries get to experience.
"Do you want a towel?" he asked, helping me up.
"No, this is rather refreshing, actually." I said, still absolutely smashed on endorphins, Koi still enthusiastically swarming at my kneecaps.
"I mean like for your-"  the EMT Gestured Vaguely at my torso.
I looked down and realized that not only had I broken the Obi-jime, the entire Obi had come undone and was floating several feet away, and I was only wearing the Kimono, fallen completely off my shoulders and was only being prevented from performing a full Lady Godiva by the valiant efforts of the safety pin my roommate had put in to keep it folded correctly while we figured out the Obi.
"Professor Roberts?" I stood up all the way, soaking wet, bleeding from my forehead with such force as to create actual streams of blood down my face, neck and chest, tits out, and addressed the poor man standing, white-faced on the deck above the pond.  "I don't think I'm going to be in class on Monday-" I paused to fish a small Koi that had gotten trapped in the remains of the now-ruined Kimono, and tossed it back into the pond. "-Can I schedule a make-up exam for the Final?"
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, GET IN THE AMBULANCE!" He screamed.
I was x-rayed for a skull fracture, but my lifelong membership to the Lactose Tolerance Club had protected me, and I happily texted my roommate to come pick me up as "They x-rayed my head and found nothing" while the doctor stitched part of my scalp back together.
The following morning, I discovered that Professor Roberts had graded my exam before I took it.  100%. Truly, the best way to get a good grade on your finals is to get a serious head injury.

So, Matcha is not a Tea, in my humble opinion.
Matcha is an Experience.
And sometimes that experience is drinking something almost exactly like paint, ruining an important cultural ceremony, traumatizing your professor,  and introducing a bunch of fish to the taste of human flesh.

***
If this made you laugh, there are more funny stories on My Patreon, or you can help support me by tipping my Ko-Fi. Thank You.
14K notes · View notes
archiveluna · 3 months
Text
being in a weird situationship with farleigh... <3 inspired by the song boyfriend by ariana grande ft. social house
Tumblr media
WARNINGS ✧ none i think? ooc farleigh maybe, situationship? my bad writing… it’s been 7 years. written on my iphone at 1am while sleep deprived </3 sorry in advance! i also suck at writing endings ◡̈
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ︶︶︶⠀⠀୨୧⠀⠀︶︶︶
‘you ain’t my boyfriend and i ain’t your girlfriend but you don’t want me to see nobody else and i don’t want you to see nobody’
you could feel him glaring at you from all the way across the room but made no move to look his way. if he could go around hooking up with random people, then you had the right to do as you please also.
wether he’d like to admit it or not, farleigh was a jealous man, especially when it came to you and there was only so much he could take before storming your way, his long legs reaching you in record time and dragging you away from the confused boy who you’d been previously talking to.
‘even though you ain’t mine, i promise the way we fight make me feel like we just in love’
“what do you think you’re doing?”
you couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped your mouth. was he being serious? the only thing holding you back from causing a scene being the people around you guys and the not so subtle eyes of his cousin and friends watching everything unfold. god.. you knew coming to this party was a bad idea. “not sure what you mean.” you shrugged.
he nodded his head in a mocking way, pursing his lips. “hm, right. so this isn’t you getting back at me for the other day, is it? because i told you-“
“getting back at you?” you cut him off shaking your head in disbelief. “get over yourself farleigh. am i not allowed to talk to other people? not everything’s about you, you know.” except this totally was about him. you almost groaned when you saw the smirk forming on his lips. that bastard. he knew, of course he did.
‘i know we be so complicated lovin you sometimes drive me crazy cause i can’t have what i want and neither can you’
you refused to meet his eyes when he called out your name, arms crossed looking at the people dancing around you. farleigh chuckled, taking a step closer. you took one back in return. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were jealous.” his tone was teasing, and you didn’t have to look at him to know he still had that infuriatingly attractive smirk on his face. i am. “of what? you’re not my boyfriend, you can do whatever you want.” you looked up at him, doing your best to appear nonchalant. farleigh laughed, throwing his head back like you had said the funniest joke he’s ever heard, which only served to agitate you more.
his eyes were practically sparkling when he looked down at you, his hands reaching to cup your face despite your failed attempts to push him away. “i didn’t fuck her. if that’s what you’re pissed about, all we did was make out...” he trailed off unsure if he should say what he was thinking. the way he was looking at you made your cheeks warm up, but you refused to speak. you wanted him to say it. you knew what he wanted to say, and as stupid as it sounded, you refused to be the first one to break. “i haven’t slept with anyone for months now actually.” his hands now resting on your hips squeezed them lightly.
farleigh admitting that shouldn’t of felt as good as it did, but it was as if you could feel a weight lifting off your shoulders. you hoped for a different kind of confession, but this was also nice to know. although you weren’t all that happy that he was still going around shoving his tongue down other peoples throats you couldn’t exactly complain either. he wasn’t your boyfriend. you had to remind yourself of that.
‘but you ain’t my boyfriend and i ain’t your girlfriend but you don’t want me to touch nobody else baby, we ain’t gotta tell nobody’
“like i said, farleigh, you’re free to do whatever you want. nothing is stopping you.” farleigh let out a mixture of what sounded like a groan and laugh, pulling you closer to him without you attempting to push him away this time around. “you” he paused to pinch your cheek softly. “are so fucking stubborn, did you know that?”
you couldn’t hold back the giggle that escaped your lips as you looked up at him, finally giving in to his touch. you had only been ignoring him for a few days, but it felt like a lifetime to you and even if he wouldn’t say it, you knew he felt the same way if the way he was gripping your hips was anything to go by.
“were you really going to fuck that loser to get back at me?” farleigh suddenly asked, looking over to where the guy whose name you’d already forgotten now sat talking with a different girl, his face in that permanent scowl he seemed to have when he wasn’t around you or his friends. “i tuned him out the moment he opened his mouth to be honest.” you could feel your cheeks heating up once again as he laughed at your honesty. “yeah, i figured once you wouldn’t stop eye fucking me from across the room.”
“shut up!” you groaned, swatting his chest. “you’re the one who has a staring problem, you creep. seriously, you’re worse than that fucking ollie kid.” farleigh huffed, somewhat offended that you would compare him to oliver but said nothing else as he pulled you towards the table where felix and the rest of his posse sat, all of them immediately pretending like they hadn’t been watching when you both approached except for felix, who gave farleigh a not so subtle smirk when he pulled you to sit on his lap.
‘if you were my boyfriend and you were my girlfriend i probably wouldn’t see nobody else’
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ︶︶︶⠀⠀୨୧⠀⠀︶︶︶
i suck at endings can u tell ꃋᴖꃋ i know i said i wasn’t gonna write and i probably won’t for a while but i had to get this idea out of my head! i ♥︎ farleigh start. also sorry for any errors! i’m nervous just posting this, bye
650 notes · View notes
pshcomforts · 3 months
Text
➳ mad | psh.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
non!idolsunghoon x fem!reader
“we’re fighting this war, baby, when both of us are losing”
synopsis: in which, you and sunghoon have an argument that leads to you guys distancing for a bit.
warnings/content: angst to fluff. written in third pov. hoon’s a little possessive.. and he gets drunk later. mentions of alcohol. reader and hoon are both petty and stubborn. not proofread (i’m sorry if it’s bad). cursing! i think that’s it but lmk!
comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)
word count: 5.0k
a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s partner), min-su (heeseung’s partner), and ji-woo (jake’s partner).
༘˚⋆𐙚。masterlist⋆.✧˚
current song playing: mad by neyo
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
1:36 ──────|───────────── -2:37
keys aggressively landed on the floor as sunghoon dropped it in rage.
“you’re really making a big deal out of this?”
y/n rolled her eyes in annoyance. “yeah, i am because what you did was uncalled for.” she folded her arms, almost in disbelief of how he was acting.
“i pushed him off of you, y/n. you should honestly be thanking me.”
her brows scrunched together — “he’s my friend sunghoon. he wasn’t even close to me.”
he let a scoff slip by his lips in a moment of doubt. “yeah, he sure seemed like it with how close his body was pressing up against you.”
she squinted her eyes at his words. “okay lose the fucking attitude because i’m not having it.” he sent a glare at the girl, close to burning holes as he began to grow irritated.
“you don’t know the intentions of guys y/n.”
“he has a girlfriend, sunghoon!”
hoon poked his tongue out through his cheek as he rolled his eyes — face becoming stern within each second.
“guys still cheat on their girlfriends.”
y/n scoffed, shaking her head as her heart grew heavy. “his girlfriend is my cousin, hoon.” she stopped to think carefully with her words — “look, i love you okay? and as much as i enjoy seeing you jealous, it’s not a healthy trait for you to keep doing this.”
“keep doing what?” he gritted with his clenched jaw.
“hoon…”
he shook his head and turned his back against her. “fine, you want me to not protect you anymore? got it. done. i’ll act like we’re not even in a relationship if that’s what you want.”
✩ ‘now as i’m yelling over her’ ✩
y/n’s heart shattered within seconds before letting the irking feel wash over. “you’re really gonna be fucking petty about this?”
“if that’s what you want,” he bluntly said with shrugging shoulders. his back still faced her as he couldn’t have it in himself to look at her.
“i can’t believe you’re acting so stubborn right now.”
“he was close to you, how do you expect me to not act the way i am?” his jaw tensed when he thought back to the vision of seeing y/n and her guy friend near each other.
“we’ve been friends for a long time sunghoon, and he wasn’t even as close as you thought he was.” she narrowed her eyes at his back, crossing her arms as the events from tonight started to drain her.
“he’s probably just waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in and catch you.” hoon mumbled with an obvious scoff.
silence easily took the room as y/n stayed quiet, not wanting to give a response for a second.
“are you serious? like, are you actually really fucking acting like this right now?”
✩ ‘she yelling over me’ ✩
sunghoon finally faced her, his gaze darkened as his eyes darted at her. he was upset, and so was she.
“how else do you want me to act?” he spoke, voice almost absent in the moment as his throat needed to be cleared.
she rolled her eyes, swiping her tongue through her teeth as she spat — “you’re really unbelievable.”
“yeah i bet you’ll quote that to him soon when you tell him what happened.”
✩ ‘all that that means is neither of us is listening’ ✩
her eyes were filled with betrayal. and after betrayal, came pettiness. the doubt that was taking over their relationship increased as soon as the words left his mouth.
✩ ‘but we won’t let it go for nothing’ ✩
“fine, you want me to go tell him? i will.” her hands swiftly reached for her jacket she threw off when she got home, shoes already intact as her feet quickened for the door. the burdened girl felt a sudden tug on her arm, knowing that her boyfriend was trying to pull her back.
“don’t leave.”
“talk to me when you’re no longer feeling petty. i don’t want to hear your stupid comments right now,” she spat out — pulling her arm back with a cold shoulder.
“it’s dark and it’s unsafe, it’s better if you stay here y/n.”
“honestly, hoon? i don’t want to be under the same roof as you right now.” the girl put on the last piece of her warm clothing and left. she was tired and she wanted to sleep but not when her boyfriend was being unreasonable.
sunghoon fucked up. he was a naturally possessive guy with his girl but he took it too far this time, and he knew that.
he groaned out a heavy sigh, taking his seat on the couch as he finally processed the fact that they’d just gone through an argument.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
hours passed and y/n was still gone.
truth be told, she never went to her male friend’s place. of course not. they were close, but she wouldn’t dare to do that to sunghoon — no matter how pissed she was at him.
so instead, she slept over at ji-woo’s. more specifically, ji-woo’s and jake’s.
“you sure everything’s okay with you and sunghoon??” her friend questioned with a concerned look.
y/n’s lips pushed together into a firm line, showing that she was a little unsure about the answer herself. “i don’t know honestly… i can’t tell who’s in the right this time..” her head drooped down in guilt as she replayed the cruel words she said to him before leaving.
“it’s not your fault y/n, he was a little out of bounds this time but you guys should still talk it out.”
“yeah, it always works for my girl and i.” jake chimed in, flinging his arm around ji-woo.
y/n’s face scrunched in disgust — “ew.. well, you know that sunghoon’s pretty stubborn..” her eyes tilted up to look at her boyfriend’s best friend who was dating her friend. he let a gentle smile play on his lips as he only nodded in agreement.
“you are too, y/n…” ji-woo added on, giving slow rubs on her boyfriend’s hand.
“you’re not making the situation any better but thanks.. bitch.” she rolled her eyes before shaking her head, earning a gasp and a laugh from the couple in unison.
“i’m sure you guys will work it out soon,” the dimpled girl said, giving a light kiss on her boyfriend’s cheek afterward.
“ew you guys make me want to be single..” y/n replied, face still scrunched in disgust.
jake awkwardly laughed, holding onto his girlfriend as he heard her yell — “shut up! just go to sleep!”
the couple returned to their bedroom, leaving y/n behind before the loud voice of jake boomed out, “and check your phone y/n! sunghoon’s been blowing up mine so i’m sure he is for you too!”
the girl raised her brows, turning her head to her phone on do not disturb. she clicked the screen and found the device to be flooded with texts from various group chats, and him.
hoonie 🤍:
You okay?
Did you really go to his place?
Oh I just saw you’re with Ji-Woo and Jake. Did you get there safe?
I’m sorry for taking it too far
Please come home 🫂🫂
Good night gorgeous, I miss you ❤️‍🩹
y/n grumbled out a groan, debating on whether to text him back or leave him on read. before she could decide, she received a text from her friend’s group chat.
jungwon’s bae 🩶:
YOU BETTER TEXT HIM Y/N!
JI-WOO MAKE SURE SHE TEXTS HIM
hoon’s gf <3:
and what if i just leave him on read!
jungwon’s bae 🩶:
BITCH
He keeps blowing up Jungwon’s phone
Tell him to stop!
hee’s fav 🤍:
he’s fucking blowing up heeseung’s too
hoon’s gf <3:
and you guys are too with mine!
hoon and i are.. fine…
jungwon’s bae 🩶:
BITCH
Omg stop lying!
Where’s Ji-Woo???
hoon’s gf <3:
HAHAHA
she’s with jake so she’s most likely asleep!
as should all of us so good night losers!
y/n quickly shut her phone before she could get a response from them. she sighed in defeat, truthfully wishing she was in sunghoon’s arms as she remembered the fact that ji-woo and jake were most likely cuddling in the next room over.
‘i miss you’ she thought to herself, giving a soft pout as she reminisced when he’d be clingy and not want to let go through the night.
she gave another sigh as she picked up her phone, ignoring the texts received from the recent group chat as she responded back to sunghoon.
hoon’s gf <3:
i’m okay
we’ll talk soon, night
hoonie 🤍:
I miss you with me
y/n rolled her eyes as a grin started to show on her face without even realizing it. “whatever..” she mumbled to herself, not even giving a reply as she felt her heart thump out of her chest.
as the thoughts of her boyfriend lingered in her mind, so did the argument. they bickered time to time, but usually things worked out in the end. this time though seemed a little more different, but she was sure they’d make it through — just not right now.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
a few days had gone by since their quarrel, and y/n remained to still be at ji-woo and jake’s place. she couldn’t face sunghoon just yet, knowing that he would most definitely still be petty about it. she would too though, which is why she avoided him for the time being.
bright shades of orange colored the sky as the day cracked on sunset. it was only ji-woo and y/n in the house — jake left to go drink with his friends, which included the rest of the enhypen members.
as the two girls were preparing dinner, a sudden ring call was made from ji-woo’s phone.
“hello??” she yelled out with an eyebrow raise — “jake?”
y/n slowly eased in on listening to the conversation without even realizing as she tried to mind her own business.
“what??? i can’t hear you jake! sunghoon??”
y/n’s head quickly shot up at the name. her boyfriend??
“y/n? oh, she’s right here.” ji-woo nudged the girl’s arm while uttering out, “jake said that sunghoon wants to talk to you.”
“what?”
“apparently you’re not picking up his calls and he’s kind of drunk so.. take it.” she gestured her hands closer to y/n. she sighed before taking the phone.
“hello?”
“y/n, that’s you right??” jake yelled out on the other side of the phone, his words being slightly slurred out.
“yes… why’d you ask for me? is sunghoon okay?” she mumbled, feeling a little uneasy in her tone. a few seconds passed and it was obvious that her friend’s boyfriend didn’t know how to respond back. “jake?? hello?”
she turned to ji-woo who was still focused on dinner, eyes laced with concern as she heard her call out her boyfriend’s name.
“y/n?? is that my gorgeous girl on my friend’s phone?” sunghoon’s voice suddenly slurred out. she heard him give a soft chuckle that sent butterflies to her stomach.
“hoon.. you’re drunk aren’t you?” she said with her brows furrowed.
it was like he could hear how upset she was as he replied, “just.. a little…….. sorry, angel.”
y/n scoffed a little, even though she felt her heart flutter at the nickname. “are you serious sunghoon?” the distress of hearing his drunken state got to her as she exhaled a heavy sigh.
“i’m sorry…”
almost immediately, the phone caught onto the shuffling movements of hands as hoon’s voice could no longer be heard.
“hoon???”
“sorry y/n, he was fighting for the phone to hear your voice. he’s kind of.. uhm sad but if you could just come though, it’d be great…” jake suddenly intervened. y/n caught hold that he took the phone as he gave a chuckle afterward — “oh! and bring my girl too, i think she might need me to drive me home.”
a few other voices mixed in the background that y/n couldn’t quite grasp onto — only for jake to talk in her ear again. “actually, could you bring min-su and dae too?? heeseung and jungwon are begging for them after hearing that you and ji-woo are coming.”
the girl on the end gave an exasperated sigh while rolling her eyes. “you guys just had to drink…” she mumbled before turning to her friend who was still chopping vegetables for dinner. “here ji-woo, ask your boyfriend for the location. we gotta pick them up.”
ji-woo’s face scrunched in confusion — “pick them up??”
“just take the phone and talk to your boyfriend.” she shoved her hand that had the phone to her friend before leaving to put her shoes on.
soon after, the girl in the kitchen hung up the call and approached the front door where y/n stood.
“apparently, they took your and hoon’s car so you have to drive it back when we get them. did you text min-su and dae?”
“just about to,” y/n responded. the two left out the door soon after gathering their necessities.
hoon’s gf <3:
the boys drank and they want us to pick them up
get ready @everyone
i’m with ji-woo so meet us there, min-su and dae!
hee’s fav 🤍:
what the fuck
i knew my hee was drunk
jungwon’s bae 🩶:
Omg!
No wonder Jungwon was drunk texting me
hoon’s gf <3:
LMAO just get ready 😭
minutes passed and the group had finally arrived to the scene of their boyfriends. min-su and dae came with their own cars after realizing the members carpooled in the vehicle owned by sunghoon and y/n, and another by sunoo.
they walked into the restaurant together with head shakes and heavy sighs to the sight of each boy in a drunken state. well, most but niki. the youngest was drinking lemon lime soda while giggling at how each member was acting.
“wow you guys actually came?” he snorted, downing another cup of the refreshing soda.
y/n shook her head in disappointment while searching for her boyfriend. she soon found him laying on jake’s shoulder, his arms clinging onto him as his cheeks flushed with a bright red. out of all of the members, it seemed like he was the most drunk.
jake softly shook the boy while mumbling — “hoon, your girlfriend is here.” the boy blinked his eyes before sitting up straight to see y/n in front of him.
“no, my girlfriend is mad at me. she wouldn’t ever want to come pick me up,” he sulkily said with a pout.
y/n softly smiled as she went closer to him, hands reaching for his hair to catch his attention. she let it run through the silk strands as his face scrunched together.
“oh! who is this pretty girl??” sunghoon mumbled, giving a bright eye smile as he grinned ear to ear.
her lips automatically curled into another smile as her eyes softened with love. “hey hoonie,” she mumbled only for him to hear.
it didn’t help though as he shouted, “HOONIE? is this really my girlfriend???” he flung his arms around her neck to pull her into a hug. his face plastered on a huge smile as he felt relieved to finally be in her presence again.
the name call that could be heard throughout the restaurant caused their friends to turn heads.
“uhm ew!” min-su yelled out as she held onto a stumbling and blushing heeseung.
“they’re making up, baby! leave them alone,” her boyfriend retracted back to her, leaving quiet giggles in the air as she tried to calm his asian glow down.
“they’re finally talking again,” jungwon chuckled with a head shake. “that’s a good thing huh babe?” he comforted his head closer to dae’s neck as he remained to be smiling.
“just keep resting wonie,” dae mumbled while petting his hair.
the drunken boy returned the hair pets as his hand went to dae’s curly hair, messily fluffing it as he beamed a smile. his dimples went on display while the younger male started to giggle from his act. he was more clingy than usual with the alcohol in his system but his sober boyfriend didn’t mind.
jake and ji-woo laughed together as his hands clung onto hers, forcefully intertwining as he planned to not let go of hers. the boy was drunk, he just wanted to be in his girlfriend’s arms.
“he was talking about you all night.” niki, the most sober one, snorted as he took a bite of his food. “seemed like he needed this more than any of us.”
y/n turned her head to niki — “did he really?”
“yeah, he was stressed about the fact that you guys fought.“
“you guys should really make up. i cant afford to drink alcohol every week.” jay retorted with a smile afterward.
the girl shook her head before responding — “well we’re here now so we’ll be taking our leave.” she softly patted her boyfriend’s arm, only to earn a head shake on her shoulders.
“let’s just stay here..” sunghoon beamed with a sloppy grin on his face.
y/n rolled her eyes — “okay we’re definitely going.”
“us too. come on, baby.” said min-su who was already dragging heeseung up on his feet.
the four couples stood up, each enhypen member propping themselves up on their partner as they felt the ground to be unsteady.
“will you guys be okay driving home?” y/n asked with her brows knitted together.
“us? yeah for sure, niki didn’t drink so he can drive us home.” sunoo responded while being slightly slurred with his words.
“you sure niki??”
“we’ll be fine, i’m a good driver.” niki said, giving a laughing scoff afterward.
y/n rolled her eyes before nodding her head. “okay fine, just.. drive safe please.”
the group sectioned themselves off — the couples going off in their own cars as the remaining three went in sunoo’s car with niki being their designated driver.
“you guys will be fine right??” y/n asked to her friends.
the three nodded in response. “of course we will, jungwon’s the drunk one, not me!” dae defended with a smile towards his boyfriend.
“hey!” won yelled.
his boyfriend shrieked out a laugh at his reaction. “i’m joking! i’m joking!”
“okay.. we’re leaving.” min-su hurriedly said with a disgusted expression.
“drive safe!” ji-woo shouted to the couple. “you guys be safe too!” she pointed at y/n and dae.
the two nodded before returning to their cars.
“let’s go home, sunghoon.” y/n softly murmured to him.
“don’t you mean hoonie???” he loudly questioned, eyes still squeezing shut with his shit eating grin.
she scoffed in a playful sense as she nudged his head. “shut up and close your eyes..,”
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
throughout the car ride, sunghoon honestly fell asleep while she drove. she didn’t mind it though. talking to him while he was in a drunken state wasn’t ideal so she kept quiet.
when the two had finally arrived home, his arm clung around her neck to stable himself. the apartment was quiet, almost empty as the burdened presence of her filled every cracks of each room.
“god, you’re really heavy.” y/n grumbled with a groan.
sunghoon let out quiet words that she couldn’t comprehend, so she excused it as they finally arrived to the bedroom.
she pushed herself off of him so he could forward into the cushioned bed. “finally,” she groaned out, back area in pain from his tall body towering over hers.
the bed was neatly done. her side of the bed was obviously untouched as she hadn’t been home in days. with her absence, hoon couldn’t have it in himself to take up the remaining space that was always for his girlfriend.
when his body finally hit the bed, he whined out a groan that emphasized how tired he was from the alcohol.
“good night hoonie..,” she softly mumbled, feeling her heart already give in just at the sight of him. she gave faint rubs on his hand as she admired how sleepy he looked.
everything from his facial features had her heart thrilled with a warming feeling to the gut. his hair was messily laid out, and his eyes were gently resting so easily. his clothes were softly scrunched and ruffled, baggy almost with how he landed onto the mattress.
after admiring how gorgeous he looked, y/n decided it was time to let the boy sleep — so she turned away from him, prepared to take leave from the room. she was honestly still mad at him, and wanted him to least be sober when they finally met after their argument. but he wasn’t, so she thought it best for her to spend the remaining night on the couch.
as she reached out for the door, she felt a sudden pulse of his hand kick in as it wrapped around her wrist. the tug shocked her.
the girl opened her mouth to speak but sunghoon had beat her to it — “don’t go.” he refused to let her leave as his grip became stronger. he was scared.
✩ ‘girl i don’t wanna go to bed (mad at you)’ ✩
her face contorted into confusion. “i thought you were asleep?”
“please don’t go,” he mumbled — ignoring her words as his brows scrunched together. “i want you here with me.”
✩ ‘and i don’t want you to go to bed (mad at me)’ ✩
y/n pressed her lips to form a line as she said, “go to sleep hoon.” she tugged her hand back and he let her, most likely from being a little too drunk to do anything else.
she wanted to stay with him and be in his warming arms, but they were still going through an argument. so she turned off the light and situated herself on the couch soon after.
it wasn’t comfortable, but at least she was home.
after a few more minutes of being on the phone, the girl drifted herself off to sleep. her back faced the open side of the couch as she knocked out.
when hours passed, a pair of arms had suddenly wrapped around her body and embraced her into a back hug. it was sunghoon. he groaned out a sigh of relief as he let his arms cling at the waist.
it had probably been a little past midnight when the male found himself next to an empty space on the bed. he frowned before finding his girlfriend on the couch.
his chin softly laid on top of her head from his height. the cold hands that belonged to him most definitely awoken her when she grumbled out a confused whine.
“hoon..?” her hand reached out to the back of her, finding its place in his hair as he gave a faint chuckle in the silence.
“told you not to go,” he mumbled next to her ear, sending shivers down her spine as his arms pulled her closer to his embrace.
✩ ‘but baby, can we make up now?’ ✩
“don’t sleep without me, it feels lonely.” his hands soon found its way to her hands, placing it over hers as he squeezed her tighter. “haven’t been able to sleep without you here.”
✩ ‘cause i can’t sleep through the pain’ ✩
his warm hold finally made her feel like she was at peace, like the empty feeling in the apartment simply vanished within the seconds they were together.
sunghoon lifted his head and removed one of his hands to move her hair that sprawled out on the pillow, placing a gentle kiss on her neck afterward. he breathed deeply on it before muzzling his head into her neck. he was home.
“hoon-“
✩ ‘we can fuss, and we can fight’ ✩
“i know you’re still mad at me and that’s okay, but can i just hold you like this? just for tonight? i’ve missed you..,” he whispered against her neck, voice trailing off at his last sentence with how weakened he felt. “will you let me?”
✩ ‘long as everything’s all right between us, before we go to sleep ’ ✩
the girl felt his grip get a little tighter, almost as if he was preparing for her to reject his request, but she didn’t. instead, her hands followed to where his were, which were between her waist and hips.
they overlapped and she rested hers on top of his, closing her fingers so she could reassure him back.
“of course, hold me every night” y/n croaked out.
she couldn’t see it but hoon’s lips were tugging on a smile. he moved a few hair strands out of her face before pushing his face closer to her neck.
she softly laughed at the touch, earning a low chuckle to be heard from him as well.
“that’s my gorgeous girl,” he mumbled in her ear again.
sunghoon let his arms hold onto her tighter as they both began to sleep in the presence of each other.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
when the afternoon light peeked through their windows, y/n had been the first to awoken from the two as hoon was still knocked out from the alcohol.
the space on the couch was tight with how they slept but she didn’t mind. well, maybe she did a little but it wasn’t a big deal with how much she had missed him.
she had to get up though. it was her daily routine to do a big stretch right after she woke up, and possibly go to the bathroom for number one too. so she did. her body rose up and she just couldn’t help herself to simply admire the boy in front of her eyes.
the pretty boy was sound asleep with his clothes he wore from yesterday’s outing. “so handsome..” she uttered under her breath, eyes being glazed with captivation.
“am i that attractive?” he said as his inner corner of his lips curling.
y/n’s eyes widened with shock. “oh shit i didn’t know you were awake..”
“your staring woke me up.” his eyes fluttered open as he gave a half smile to her, hair messy and out of place.
“sorry.”
“i should be the one saying sorry,” he refuted.
“that’s sweet hoon, but i really gotta pee so please move, you’re blocking the whole sofa.” the man gave a wide chuckle at her words before moving his long legs aside. she rushed out to the bathroom to do her business, returning back to see him sitting up with his thick brows scrunched together.
“you wanna talk now or should we talk later?” y/n awkwardly asked with an eyebrow raise.
sunghoon gave another grin at her words. god, he was smitten for this girl. “let’s talk now because i want to apologize.” before he could continue on, he quickly placed a warm kiss on her forehead when she sat down beside him.
“hoon!”
“i haven’t kissed my girlfriend in days. what do you expect me not to do??” he gave a shrug to his shoulders that had her rolling her eyes.
“stop distracting me!” the girl said with a firm tone, trying to sound composed. her cheeks betrayed her though as they brought a warm color.
“do i distract you?”
“sunghoon- are we gonna talk or do i have to ignore you again?”
“okay okay fine,” he sighed at her words. “i’m sorry y/n. i was jealous and i admit that. he wasn’t close to you, but i just hated the way he couldn’t stop whispering things to you.”
she watched his face start to slightly frown at the remembrance of that night, and she only laughed at it.
“it was wrong for me to say all of that when we were arguing and i wish i didn’t. i’ll always protect you,” he added on. “i just.. can’t help it. i always get the protective urge to keep you safe.”
his head was drooped low in shame, and it caused y/n to cup his cheeks for him to face her. “you’re so cute hoon.” she placed a quick peck on the lips before she continued, “i know you’re a possessive guy and i’m okay with that. there are just certain times where it gets taken too far and it feels like it won’t impact well on our relationship.”
“i know.. but-“
“look, i love it when you’re jealous. it’s funny and hot at the same time, but you seriously have nothing to worry about. my friend was just whispering into my ear because it was loud and he was trying to tell me what he was gonna get for my cousin’s birthday.”
sunghoon’s lips formed into duck shaped lips as he quietly whispered, “oh..”
“you’re adorable, loser. i’m sorry too, i know you’re just being protective.” she grinned ear to ear as she planted another soft kiss onto his lips. as she prepared to pull away, she felt his hands on the back of her neck pull her in again.
his lips curled into a smile as she became slightly shocked with the sudden tug from him. hoon placed his hand on her chin, smiling even more as she finally got the chance to pull away with how distracted he got.
“god hoon!” a loud smack was sent to the arms.
“i missed being with my girlfriend, can’t i just kiss her!”
“geez we don’t talk for days and you become this clingy,” y/n said with an eye roll.
sunghoon gave a light grin as he rubbed his bruised arm. “only for you,” he mumbled with an eye smile.
“whatever.. let’s just go get lunch.” she stood from the couch and grabbed her boyfriend’s hands.
“what if i just want to stay home all day with you?”
“i’d love that but you drank a lot, so you need to eat something.”
a few more push and pull from the arms were made until sunghoon finally gave in.
the two went out for lunch and talked about what they did in their days apart. they were okay, and better than ever after getting through an argument. nothing could ever separate the two from each other.
★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★
652 notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 9 months
Note
Tumblr media
Oh, this smirk!
The Rejects
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, mentioned Steve Rogers x Female Reader, mentioned Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff
Summary: Bucky address the elephant in the room.
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Flirting, friends with benefits (not Bucky x Reader), light angst, tension, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning)
A/N: This was meant to be something else completely, but the muse did what she wanted. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Tumblr media
“You jealous?”
Looking up from the Scrabble board, you suppressed the urge to roll your eyes at Bucky’s smug expression. “Jealous of what exactly?” you asked, downing the rest of your drink and not flinching at the sting.
“Come on. You know what,” he answered, crossing his arms as he leaned on the table. “Or do I need to say it?”
“Please, enlighten me,” you said as you placed a square on the board. You knew exactly what he was referring to, but you’d play his game. “Go on. Don’t be shy.”
“Steve and Natasha sleeping together,” he answered.
Big boy actually said it.
You allowed the eyeroll to happen when he smirked. They left the two of you alone almost an hour ago and it was a feat that you went that long without acknowledging it. “No, I’m not. Why would I be?”
Bucky pointed at you with his beer bottle. “Because you used to hook up with Steve.”
“And you used to sleep with Natasha,” you said without skipping a beat. That wiped the smirk off his face. “So sorry you got stuck playing Scrabble with a reject like me.”
You didn’t have super soldier hearing the way he did, but you heard his teeth grind when he selected his next piece. “You’re not a reject,” he said above a whisper.
Neither of you spoke as you kept playing. After a bad mission months ago, you slept with Steve. It wasn’t a big deal. Adrenaline was high and he gave you the release you needed. Expecting it to be a one time thing, it surprised you when he shoved you against a wall days later. You fell into a “friends with benefits” arrangement with him after that.
While he treated you well enough, you both maintained that it wouldn’t go beyond sex. From what Natasha told you, she had a similar arrangement with Bucky. It worked for your needs.
You were content.
Until you noticed how Steve and Natasha’s gazes lingered on each other after briefings. How easily they fell in step beside each other despite their sometimes opposing views. She trusted the Captain, which wasn’t easy for the former spy. Steve respected her and that said something. You accepted that they needed each other and quietly removed yourself from the equation.
Bucky did the same.
“You know what? I am jealous,” you admitted, the game forgotten at that point. “But not because they’re sleeping together.”
Bucky’s cheek twitched, like he didn’t quite believe you. “Then why are you?”
Glancing down the hall before you looked back at Bucky, you sighed. “As happy as I am for them, I'm a little sad for myself. Because they found something in each other that no one has found with me,” you told him, narrowing your eyes when his slightly widened. “What?” you asked. If the former Winter Soldier made fun of you or laughed, you wouldn’t hesitate to smack him because you weren’t afraid of him.
“Nothing,” he said, the index finger on his vibranium hand tapping the table in a fast motion. “I just understand how you feel.”
Shame flooded you for thinking he’d poke fun at your vulnerability. He wasn’t a bad guy. Far from it. In fact, Steve never got jealous or insecure when you talked to Bucky and Natasha hadn’t either. They encouraged the two of you to become friends. Looking back, it was easy to think they supported the friendship to phase you two out. But you knew that wasn’t the case.
They weren’t cruel.
What would’ve happened if I slept with Bucky instead of Steve? Is it wrong that I’ve thought about that more than once?
“So, why are a couple of 'rejects' like us who are not jealous of our former lovers sitting here playing board games instead of going out and looking for ‘the one’?” you teased.
“Because I was too chicken to ask you out tonight, even after I got the okay from Steve.”
What?
You blinked once. Twice. “Your best friend, who has been inside me, is cool with you asking me out?”
He winced at your choice of words. “Well, when you put it like that. Yeah?” he replied, before he straightened up, confidence filling those pretty blue eyes of his. “I don’t give a fuck that you slept with Steve. I’m asking you out.”
Your smile turned a little warmer and you reigned your claws in. “You want to take me on a date?” you asked, your heart swelling when he ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "If this is just to fill a void, I don't think it's a good idea."
If Bucky needed that, you understood. But could you do that again? No. Not with him.
"I'm asking because I want to, doll. You're a badass and I like your company," he said. That was a big deal since Bucky only seemed to like a handful of people. "And if you’ll let me, I’ll ruin you.”
Fuck.
“I don’t know,” you said in a singsong voice, stretching and purposely sticking your chest out to draw his gaze to your breasts. “We’ve both done the whole friends with benefits thing before and-”
He reached across the table to take your hand. “You wouldn’t be my friend. You’d be my girl.”
Your stomach did a funny flip, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. The word “yes” was on the tip of your tongue. Because you had a right to be happy. All of you did.
I slept with Steve. Natasha slept with Bucky. Steve is sleeping with Natasha. The next logical step is sleeping with Bucky, right? Who knew math could be fun?
“What would Nat think?” you asked. Though you were certain she had no feelings for Bucky beyond friendship, you didn’t want her to be uncomfortable just because you were fine with her and Steve.
Your phone buzzed a half a minute later with a text from the former Black Widow herself.
“Go for it. He'll be good to you and you deserve it.”
Bucky chuckled when you looked back down the hall. “Steve and his fucking hearing,” you muttered before you threw your head back. “Stop listening to our conversation! That’s rude!”
“Sorry!” Steve yelled back.
You smiled at Bucky, the atmosphere lighter even with the tension. “Okay. You beat me in Scrabble, you pick where we go for our first date. I win, I get to pick and no complaints.”
His eyes lit up as your heart raced. “Deal,” he said, the smirk slowly appearing on his face again. “But the loser has to play the next game naked.”
“Game on, Barnes.”
Tumblr media
So, there we go. 😂 I hope you lovelies liked it! More of these two with A Couple of Cuties. Love and thanks for reading. 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
1K notes · View notes
Text
Writing Advice #?: Don’t write out accents.
The Surface-Level Problem: It’s distracting at best, illegible at worst. 
The following passage from Sons and Lovers has never made a whit of sense to me:
“I ham, Walter, my lad,’ ’e says; ‘ta’e which on ’em ter’s a mind.’ An’ so I took one, an’ thanked ’im. I didn’t like ter shake it afore ’is eyes, but ’e says, ‘Tha’d better ma’e sure it’s a good un. An’ so, yer see, I knowed it was.’”
There’s almost certainly a point to that dialogue — plot, character, theme — but I could not figure out what the words were meant to be, and gave up on the book.  At a lesser extreme, most of Quincey’s lines from Dracula (“I know I ain’t good enough to regulate the fixin’s of your little shoes”) cause American readers to sputter into laughter, which isn’t ideal for a character who is supposed to be sweet and tragic.  Accents-written-out draw attention to mechanical qualities of the text.
Solution #1: Use indicators outside of the quote marks to describe how a character talks.  An Atlanta accent can be “drawling” and a London one “clipped”; a Princeton one can sound “stiff” and a Newark one “relaxed.”  Do they exaggerate their vowels more (North America) or their consonants more (U.K., north Africa)?  Do they sound happy, melodious, frustrated?
The Deeper Problem: It’s ignorant at best, and classist/racist/xenophobic at worst.
You pretty much never see authors writing out their own accents — to the person who has the accent, the words just sound like words.  It’s only when the accent is somehow “other” to the author that it gets written out.
And the accents that we consider “other” and “wrong” (even if no one ever uses those words, the decision to deliberately misspell words still conveys it) are pretty much never the ones from wealthy and educated parts of the country.  Instead, the accents with misspelled words and awkward inflection are those from other countries, from other social classes, from other ethnicities.  If your Maine characters speak normally and your Florida characters have grammatical errors, then you have conveyed what you consider to be correct and normal speech.  We know what J.K. Rowling thinks of French-accented English, because it’s dripping off of Fleur Delacour’s every line.
At the bizarre extreme, we see inappropriate application of North U.K. and South U.S.-isms to every uneducated and/or poor character ever to appear in fan fic.  When wanting to get across that Steve Rogers is a simple Brooklyn boy, MCU fans have him slip into “mustn’t” and “we is.”  When conveying that Robin 2.0 is raised poor in Newark, he uses “ain’t” and “y’all” and “din.”  Never mind that Iron Man is from Manhattan, or that Robin 3.0 is raised wealthy in Newark; neither of them ever gets a written-out accent.
Solution #2: A little word choice can go a long way, and a little research can go even further.  Listen carefully to the way people talk — on the bus, in a café, on unscripted YouTube — and write down their exact word choice.  “We good” literally means the same thing as “no thank you,” but one’s a lot more formal than the other.  “Ain’t” is a perfectly good synonym for “am not,” but not everyone will use it.
The Obscure Problem: It’s not even how people talk.
Look at how auto-transcription software messes up speaking styles, and it’s obvious that no one pronounces every spoken sound in every word that comes out of their mouth.  Consider how Americans say “you all right?”; 99% of us actually say something like “yait?”, using tone and head tilt to convey meaning.  Politicians speak very formally; friends at bars speak very informally.
An example: I’m from Baltimore, Maryland.  Unless I’m speaking to an American from Texas, in which case I’m from “Baltmore, Marlind.”  Unless I’m speaking to an American from Pennsylvania, in which case I’m from “Balmore, Marlin.”  If I’m speaking to a fellow Marylander, I’m of course from “Bamor.”  (If I’m speaking to a non-American, I’m of course from “Washington D.C.”)  Trying to capture every phoneme of change from moment to moment and setting to setting would be ridiculous; better just to say I inflect more when talking to people from outside my region.
When you write out an accent, you insert yourself, the writer, as an implied listener.  You inflict your value judgments and your linguistic ear on the reader, and you take away from the story.
Solution #3: When in doubt, just write the dialogue how you would talk.
1K notes · View notes
lovemyromance · 2 months
Text
SJM: I thought it was obvious??
AKA - No analysis needed. The clues are there. Things are already happening.
Please keep your 80 page PowerPoints and highlighted words from your “8 books of canon” (none of which are actually from ACOTAR, btw) to yourself.
“I thought it was obvious” = no deep dives needed. No extrapolation or analysis necessary. The words are already on the page. You don’t have to work harder than SJM to come up with your own theories (*cough* see HOFAS crazy hype theories vs actual book)
“I thought it was obvious”
The ONLY couple currently mutually attracted to each other is Elriel. They have had moments since ACOMF. ACOSF did not end them, it gave them the setup for the next book. They are set up for the greatest tortured forbidden romance of the series, how can you dispute that? Why would you WANT to dispute that love story? I don’t want ACOSF 2.0 which was all physical and no substance. I want an angsty, slow forbidden romance. I want to fall in love when the characters fall in love. Elriel will give us that.
“I thought it was obvious”
The other ships do NOT exist on the page at the moment. Elucien, I will give credit to because they are still mates so that COULD happen still. But right now, where ACOSF ended, they had barely even seen each other in a year. The only romantic coded interactions have been between Azriel & Elain thus far.
“I thought it was obvious”
Elucien & Gw*riel have not shared any romantic moments. There is no romance between them at this current time in the series. I am not talking about “what could happen” or “what could Sarah be setting up” because she said it was obvious. That means it’s there already. There’s no reason to hypothesize and theorize about ships that don’t currently exist in the book. Because - and say it with me-
“I thought it was obvious”
What is obvious about elucien? Other than the fact that they are mates. That’s it. That’s all they have. Not even a conversation on the page. Not even a shared shy glance or brush of their fingers. It’s the equivalent of an arranged marriage neither of them seems to want. Analyzing 20 sentences about flowers and sunlight, going out of your way to prove feyre is an “unreliable” narrator when she questions the bond (but Cassian, fashion police of Velaris, is a very very reliable narrator)-Why? Is any of that obvious to the casual reader? No.
“I thought it was obvious”
I’m not even going to spend many words talking about Gw*nriel, as I don’t see it as anything more than a crackship. They have like 4 platonic interactions. Friendly. Banter, sure. But not all banter is a clue that people are predestined soulmates. Most people who read their interactions are not going to overanalyze spark and glow and shadow behavior. They shouldn’t have to because - again - none of that is obvious.
“I thought it was obvious”
Shy glances and subtle scenes in the background wasn’t enough for those who claim to be reading experts. So SJM released a bonus chapter where in clear black and white text, you see both Azriel and Elain desperate for each other. This man is willing to BEG on his knees for a taste of her/ the end. Why would you even want him with anyone else after that?
“I thought it was obvious”
All these characters I’ve mentioned have been supporting characters this entire series. Nothing concerning them is going to happen in someone else’s book-but the seeds have been sewn. Any scene with Elain could have been written with Lucien or her sisters instead of Azriel - but it wasn’t.
Ex: when majda says, “if anyone can figure out what’s wrong, it’s a mate”
Lucien is THERE. Feyre is THERE. Nesta is THERE. But who figures it out - not her mate, nor her sisters - Azriel.
Lucien could’ve shown her the garden, feyre could’ve sat with her and listened to Elain’s garden plans till 3am - but no - it was Azriel.
And this man is the only one in the NC I’m convinced that has an actual job and responsibilities. So he is choosing to spend what little free time he has with ELAIN. What’s not clicking, folks?
“I thought it was obvious”
Sarah-we love her-but she is Queen of cliches. Her writing is not some insane thriller level that has you gasping every page turn. She likes threes, she likes happy endings, she likes her male LIs desperate for their female counterparts. The answer to Amarantha’s riddle was LOVE. CC had “through love all is possible”.
You really think she wrote the line “hoped love would trump even a mating bond” and it meant nothing?
SJM doesn’t do anything easy. But she said it was obvious- because it IS.
190 notes · View notes
Text
Rain-Soaked Kisses
Ship: Steve Harrington x fem!Mayfield!reader
Summary: Steve hates storms but loves the rain—just another oxymoron of his life, like the secret the kids are trying so very hard to dig up.
Word Count: 6,582 words
Warnings: fluff!!!, sappy & romantic Steve, scheming Dustin & Max, healthy Mayfield sibling relationship, Billy mention, lumax sprinkles, secret relationship, friends to lovers, byler sprinkles, jancy sprinkles
Note: Told in part from the perspective of the kids! Written because it's storming where I am, and I love this weather so much.
Tumblr media
☟ Continue below the fold ☟
"Who could he possibly be dating? There's not a girl in Hawkins that wants to go out with him!"
"Well, clearly one of them does!"
Dustin sighed, taking in Max's exclamation. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. Steve had stopped complaining about bad dates and girls who left quickly; Robin reported he'd completely stopped talking about Leah and Heidi and Helen and the five other girls he'd been on-and-off again with; he walked around with a dopey, happy smile on his face all the time; and he was less and less reliable for rides, instead going on dates with a girl who's name he always pretended to forget.
As impossible as the idea seemed, Dustin had to admit it was a logical conclusion.
But who?
"Robin?" Max suggested.
Dustin shook his head. "Impossible. Steve steadfastedly refuses to date her. It's not Nancy again, is it?"
"Nope—saw her with Jonathan yesterday." Max huffed a sigh. "Maybe we have to...think outside the box more?"
"Who's outside the box? Who hasn't he already tried to date and failed miserably at dating?" Dustin demanded.
Max was silent for a moment too long. Then she said, "Alright, I don't know. I can't think of anyone who would actually go out with him."
"Exactly, neither can I," Dustin said. "We've got to watch him. We need to know who this is."
~❊~
But tracking Steve and his mystery girl down was much, much harder than either Dustin or Max had anticipated.
Without Steve driving them around, getting around town took twice as long as it needed, either in the attempts to find someone to drive them or in walking themselves everywhere. Nancy was either busy or with Jonathan most of the time, which ruled out Jonathan as well, and Robin still didn't have her license.
During yet another slow afternoon of trying and failing to put together the pieces of where Steve was going and with who, the phone rang. Dustin and Max both looked up quickly, scrambling over furniture and Dustin's new cat to beat each other to the phone.
Dustin got to it first. "Hello?"
"Hey, Dustin? It's Robin."
"Yeah, I know it's you, Robin, I can recognize your voice."
"Now's your chance."
"What?"
"Steve just left work—he said he's going on a date. Now's your chance to go find out who he's going out with!"
"Oh, shit!" Dustin turned to Max. "Steve's going on a—"
"I heard," she said. "Does she know where he's going?"
"Where's he going, Robin, did he say?"
"A restaurant, and he changed into a really nice outfit before he left here. And by nice, I mean really nice. Like fanciest restaurant in town kind of nice. Whoever this girl is, he really wants to impress her. And he's obsessed with her, too, he's been smiling all day from excitement."
Dustin scoffed. "And you didn't call us before he left?! Now we have to find out where he's going and how to get there!"
"Well, it's not like I could call you talk about him in front of him! Besides, we do know where he's going. What's the fanciest restaurant in town?"
"Enzo's," Dustin realized. "That's where he's taking her."
"I can guarantee it. If you go to Enzo's, he's going to be there. I'd go myself, but Steve and I'll both get fired if at least one of us isn't at the store right now."
"Thanks, Robin!"
"Good luck, guys!"
Dustin turned around to give Max the details, but she cut him off. "I heard. Enzo's."
"All we have to do is catch them in the middle of their date, and we know exactly who Steve's dating," Dustin said with a grin. "Easy!"
"Yeah, easy," Max snarked. "How are we supposed to get there?"
Dustin paused before he sighed. "Start calling everyone we know with a car, I guess."
Max rolled her eyes. "Like that'll ever work. Nobody's been willing to drive us around so far!"
"Can't hurt to try," Dustin insisted.
"No, Dustin, we'll be wasting time! We should just start walking now!"
But Dustin was already dialing the number to the Wheelers' house. It was answered by Mrs. Wheeler.
"Hello, Karen Wheeler speaking!"
"Hi, Mrs. Wheeler, could I talk to—"
"MIKE!" Dustin flinched at the volume from the other end. Max cringed, hearing the shout from where she stood. "Dustin's on the phone!"
A few seconds later, Dustin heard Mike's voice. "Yeah?"
"Is Nancy there?"
Dustin could see Mike's frown. "What do you want Nancy for?"
"Mike, I don't have time for this—"
"What. For? If this is Keith trying to get a date with her again, I swear that I'll—"
"Oh my God, Mike, no! Steve's going on a date and we need to catch him to figure out who he's going out with! We need Nancy to drive us there."
"Dustin, do you realize how idiotic that sounds? Nancy's not gonna drive you to go spy on her ex and his new girlfriend!" Mike hung up without another word.
Groaning, Dustin tried to call again, but he was met only with the dial tone.
Max rolled her eyes. "I told you it wouldn't work."
"I'm calling the Byers," Dustin grumbled. He dialed the number, but when Joyce picked up, she was talking to someone else in the house and by the time Dustin had gotten out "Is Jonathan there?" he heard the click of the receiver being put back.
"Try my sister," Max said.
Dustin dialed the number to Max's trailer, but no one answered. He shook his head.
"She's probably out running," Max sighed.
"Another run? Isn't that all she does now?" Dustin asked with a frown.
Max shrugged. "She says it helps her...deal with things."
Dustin sensed a can of worms—the kind that most people would avoid, the kind that Max clearly wanted to talk about anyway. So he asked it, when most people wouldn't. "Things?"
Max nodded slowly. "Yeah. You know...the Upside Down, Eddie..." She hesitated. "Billy."
Dustin glanced down at his feet. There was blood associated with all of those memories. He knew they plagued all of them, those who'd survived Vecna and his creatures, and he knew that they all had different ways of coping. Dustin's was research, Max's was music, yours was running.
"She's more like him than she wants to admit," Max said. "At least, she is with the running. Billy, he...he used to exercise to distract himself. She runs."
"Is that a bad thing?" Dustin asked.
"No, it's just... She needs someone in her corner is all. And I don't...I don't think that person is me anymore."
Dustin's heart squeezed in his chest. "Max..."
She shook off his concern. "Come on—we'd better start walking, or we're never going to make it to Enzo's on time!"
~❊~
It started to rain halfway through their walk to Enzo's.
The storm didn't start gently. There was no warning before it started to pour, no flash of lightning or boom of thunder. Just a steady downpour, hard and fast and painful against the skin.
Dustin and Max hid from the weather as much as they could, ducking under store awnings and hiding under outdoor umbrellas as they came across them.
After getting turned around at least twice, they spotted the restaurant's glowing sign. They ran toward it, stopping at the bay windows peering in. They scanned the tables inside. From the parking lot behind them, there was laughter and the slamming of car doors.
"Do you see them?" Dustin hissed. He looked at every face he saw, overanalyzing the back of every head that looked like it might be Steve.
"Are we sure they're still there?" Max said. "It's been, what, almost an hour and a half? Who eats for that long?"
Dustin shrugged. "Enzo's is a fancy place, they've got designated courses and shit. They could still be there."
A car engine revved. "Are you sure?" Max took Dustin by the shoulders and spun him around. "Is it just me, or does that look like—"
"Steve's car!" Dustin hissed. "Shit!"
They raced after it in the rain, Dustin catching sight of Steve through the driver's side window, his hair perfect and a huge grin on his face.
"Is he wearing a suit jacket?" Max asked.
"Did you see who was in the passenger's seat?" Dustin demanded.
Max didn't answer, still staring after the car, her face fixed into confusion.
"Max?"
"Huh? Oh, no, I...I couldn't tell who it was."
Dustin groaned. "Shit! That was our one chance!"
"We'll get another one," Max snapped. "He's been going on dates a lot, right? Robin said so, and he's always gone because he's been on a date. He'll go on another one with her soon."
Dustin sighed. "Good point. Now we just have to wait. Come on—we should call Robin."
~❊~
Max walked home in the rain by herself, hearing her mother fuss that she would get a cold if she kept walking around in the rain without a jacket, but not caring. Louder than her mother's voice was El's: friends don't lie.
Should Max have told Dustin what—who—she saw in Steve's car? Or the fact that she'd seen them going into Steve's burgundy BMW in the parking lot while he'd been focused on the store?
No.
Yes?
It was too late now. Besides, was she absolutely sure of who she'd seen?
Well, yes, she knew you better than anyone. You'd been by her side her entire life. There were pictures hanging in the trailer of Mom in the hospital bed after she'd given birth to Max, but it was you who was holding her, sitting in the plastic chair next to the bed.
The lights of the trailer were on when Max reached it, but only your car was in the driveway.
She pushed the door open. "Hey, I'm home!"
You poked your head out of the door to your bedroom. Your hair was just as drenched and stringy as her own. "Max! There you are, I was worried— Why are you soaking wet?"
"I walked home," she said, shrugging.
You hurried out of your room. "Come on, we need to get you out of those clothes. Mom will kill us both if she finds out we've both been out in the rain in the wrong kind of clothes."
"Where were you?" Max asked as you brought her into the bathroom.
You glanced up at her but didn't meet her eyes. "You couldn't get a ride home?" You left her in the bathroom, running into her room to grab her some dry clothes.
"No—Steve's the only one who will drive us anywhere, and he's unavailable most of the time."
Guilt flashed over your face. Max narrowed her eyes, watching you closely. You didn't seem to notice. "We'll tell Mom we took showers if she gets back before our hair dries." You paused. "You could have called me, you know."
"I did," she said. "You didn't answer."
Your face fell. "Max, I'm sorry, I didn't—"
"Are you dating Steve?"
The question stopped you in your tracks. "Max, I..."
"Are you?"
You sighed, wiping a a hand over your face. You sighed. "Yeah."
Max sighed. "Hand me a towel, please." You did so silently, taking one of your own to towel-dry your hair. "Why didn't you tell me?"
You shrugged. "At first, I wasn't sure if it was a good idea. I mean... I knew I liked Steve, but his track record with girls hasn't been good lately, and I..." You sighed. "I wanted reassurance he wouldn't be gone after a week."
"And after that?"
You groaned, putting your head in your hands. "This is...gonna sound stupid, but... Steve has been everything for you guys. For you, for Dustin, for El, everybody. He's saved you countless times, I watched him stand up to our brother to protect us, even though Billy beat him bloody for it. I didn't...I didn't want to feel like I was taking him away from you all, but I also...kind of wanted him to myself sometimes. And he seemed to want time alone for the two of us, too, so..." You looked up at Max. "And I didn't...want you to feel like I was taking away from you. After Billy..." Your voice caught in your throat.
There it was again. The silence that surrounded death.
"Died," Max whispered. "After he died."
You nodded. "After he died, I know Steve kind of...stepped up for you. I didn't want you to feel like he cared less about you just because I was in the picture now." You laughed shakily. "I know that kind of, uh, backfired. I'm sorry to keep him away from you guys for so long."
Max shook her head. "Stop apologizing for wanting someone that's yours." She breathed out a laugh. "I was just telling Dustin that you needed someone in your corner. I should have known it would be Steve. I mean, he's always been there for the rest of us, why wouldn't he be there for you?"
You looked over at Max. "Just how mad is Dustin that I'm dating Steve?"
"He doesn't know," Max said. "We've been trying to figure out who Steve's mystery girl is for months. He won't tell anybody, so Dustin wanted to try and see if we could figure it out ourselves." She glanced at you. "We saw you guys last night. At Enzo's. Or rather, I saw you. Dustin was too busy trying to peer inside the restaurant to even notice Steve's car."
You made a face. "How can you not notice Steve's car? It's a burgundy BMW for Christ's sake."
"I know!" Max giggled.
You laughed with her for a minute. The lightness in her voice—it had been a while since you'd heard her laugh like that.
After a moment, you said, "So...nobody else knows that it's me Steve is dating?"
Max shook her head. "Not even Robin."
You whistled. "I'm surprised Steve's capable of keeping a secret from her. It's gotta be killing him, I just know it." You giggled. "However...we could have some fun with this."
Max raised her eyebrows.
"If Dustin wants to know who's Steve's dating, he can keep digging as much as he wants." You grinned. "That's gotta be amusing, surely?"
~❊~
The storm that had swept in over a week ago had lasted the whole week, turning Hawkins into a mud patch and its roads into rivers. It let up briefly, leaving behind perfect spring days, only to return with a vengeance the next week—randomly on a Thursday afternoon.
Thursdays had become movie nights at Steve's house, and Dustin had concocted a plan to trick Steve into telling him who he was dating.
Max knew it wasn't gonna work. She had been present when you told Steve about Dustin's snooping and the both of you had decided to continue yanking Dustin's chain. Steve had seemed more excited about it than even you had.
While Steve set up his house for the group of rambunctious teenagers for movie night, Dustin explained his plan to Max in whispers.
"So, I'm going to try talking about Suzie for the first few hours," Dustin started, watching Steve like a hawk while he moved about in the kitchen, making popcorn for the group. "Get him thinking about his own relationship, you know? And then you know how he gets—" He cut himself off abruptly when Steve came into the living room with bowls of popcorn, setting them on the coffee table.
"Any idea when your sister's supposed to be here, Max?" Steve asked. "I thought she was driving you."
Max shook her head. "She said she'd come after she got out of work, but I don't remember when her shift ended."
Steve nodded. He disappeared up the stairs in the next moment.
"You know how he gets when it gets late into the movie and its dark and he's focused?" Dustin continued, picking up immediately.
Max frowned. "Like when he's so focused on something you can ask him a question and he'll either go 'huh?' and make you repeat it or he'll just answer without thinking?"
"Exactly like that," Dustin said. "That's when I'm—"
Steve returned with a stack of blankets. "How many of us are there, again? Twelve?"
"Thirteen," Dustin and Max both said.
Steve tossed the blankets onto the couch. "Go grab five more. Up the stairs, closet on the left."
They went up the stairs, Dustin whispering again before they'd even reached the landing. "I'm gonna ask him who he's going out with when he's like that."
Max rolled her eyes. "You don't know that'll work. He could say 'huh?' and make you repeat the question, like I just said."
Dustin shrugged. "Then I'll ask him something different, wait a little bit longer, and then ask again. He can't do that the whole night. Can he?"
"How should I know?" Max picked up the blankets and started back downstairs. Steve was whistling in the kitchen. "This whole plan is so stupid, Dustin. It's hardly a plan!"
"Do you have a better idea?" he hissed.
Max stayed silent. Of course she had better ideas, but those might make Steve actually tell Dustin.
"That's what I thought," Dustin said, clearly on the wrong path. "We'll stick with my plan." He glanced at Steve's back in the kitchen. "Unless your sister knows who he's dating? They're pretty much best friends now, right?"
Max nodded. "Blame Robin for that," she said, praying her poker face held. "I don't think she knows. I can't see Steve telling her if he hasn't told Robin."
"Fair point," Dustin decided. "Even more reason to rely on my plan."
She rolled her eyes. "Your plan is just going to annoy him until he kicks you out of his house."
"He likes me too much," Dustin said, with confidence Max wasn't sure he should possess—not about this, at least.
When they reached the first floor again, Steve was pacing around the living room, double checking he had everything set up. Max had to admit she liked the set up he had for movie night: the coffee table was set up with bowls of popcorn and a drink tray, there was a cooler next to filled with water bottles and soda cans, he had dragged every pillow in the house to the couch and floor, a fluffy winter comforter spread out on the carpet to make the floor more comfortable, and an egregious number of bagged snacks in a wicker basket.
"I think we're all set, guys," Steve said, surveying the room with his hands on his hips.
As if cued by Steve's motherly behavior, the rain outside grew louder, falling fast against the AC unit in the window. Steve winced.
"Looks like we're going to have to have the volume up high to hear the movie over the storm," he said.
"What are we watching?" Dustin asked.
Steve shrugged. "I dunno. We've got a couple choices in that cabinet over there, plus the stuff Robin's bringing. I think Nance had a movie she wanted to suggest, too, but I can't remember what it was..." His eye caught on the stack of blankets, leaning down to count them.
Dustin dug through the movie cabinet. "Come on, Steve, what are these movies? Why are they all romantic comedies?"
"Because they're my mom's favorite, dipshit," Steve said with an affectionate roll of his eyes.
"There's nothing of value here!"
"Well, I'm not watching Star Wars again, so—"
"It was Star Trek last week!"
"Even worse." Steve looked up at Max and waved her over. She glanced at Dustin, but he was too busy judging Mrs. Harrington's taste in rom-coms to notice her get up.
"Would it be too obvious if I gave your sister my blanket? I miscounted and we're short one."
Max bit back a laugh. "I think Nancy might notice, Robin would definitely notice, but Dustin's still a little too oblivious for that."
Steve huffed a sigh. "Can't have one of them letting it slip. Alright, fine, I'll use mine and give her a different one." He glanced at his watch. "Her shift ended almost an hour ago, she should be here any minute."
Max frowned. "Why do you know her work schedule better than I do?"
He shrugged. "In case she needs a ride to or from work. Can't leave her stranded if her car breaks down again."
A knock sounded at the door. Steve grinned at Max, both of them knowing you had arrived. He rushed to the door, slowing down only when he was within Dustin's sightline again.
You were hugging your arms when he opened the door, your hair wet and stringy, your clothes soaked through. "What took you so long, Stevie?!" you demanded, hurrying through the door. Max pointed to Dustin before you could kiss Steve's cheek.
"Jesus, you're soaked," Steve said, taking in your more than damp appearance. "Did you walk here?"
"No," you said, pointing out the still-open door to your car. "It's just raining hard enough that I got drenched on the run from my car to your door."
Steve slammed the door shut before more water could get inside. "Uh, okay, come on, I think I've got something for you to change into."
You blinked at him, gaze flicking briefly to Dustin. "Oh, no, that's alright, I'll just—"
"I'm not letting you stay uncomfortable and catch a cold in these clothes," Steve insisted. You nodded, all too ready to curl up in one of Steve's sweaters. "Come on—you two, we'll only be a minute. Answer the door if anyone else comes while we're gone."
Steve ushered you upstairs. Max waited a few minutes before telling Dustin she'd be right back, using the bathroom as her excuse, wanting to keep an eye on the two of you and stop you from any funny business. She followed the damp footprints you'd left behind, slipping into the bathroom across from Steve's room and peering around the door. She smiled at what she saw.
You had ditched your wet pants and shirt and were pulling on a pair of Steve's jeans. Steve had his back turned as he dug through his dresser.
"Um...do you need a different bra? I'm pretty sure you left one here last time..." Steve glanced back at you and smiled. "God, you look cute."
You looked up at him, cheeks pink. "You're just saying that because I'm half-naked in your bedroom and the clothes I'm wearing are yours."
Steve shook his head, still smiling. "I'm sayin' it 'cause you're cute." He walked over to you, sweater in hand, and kissed your nose. "You are beautiful, Miss Mayfield." He brushed your wet hair out of your face. "Arms up, honey."
You lifted your arms for him and he tugged his sweater over your head. He pulled you to his chest as soon as it was on, holding you like it was the last time he ever would. Max watched your hand go into his hair, pulling a soft sigh from him.
"Kiss me, Stevie," you whispered, coaxing his head toward your own with your hand.
Eyes closed, Steve obeyed, kissing you softly, chastely. Max heard the movie-perfect sound of your lips parting before you tugged him back down for a second kiss, deeper than the first.
"I love you," he whispered.
"And I love you," you said back. The two of you smiled at each other, sickeningly sweet, and Max wondered if the look on your face was the same one on hers whenever she was with Lucas.
Steve adjusted his sweater on your body one more time. "We should get back downstairs," he said. "Dustin might get suspicious."
You fell back into his arms for another hug. "Okay."
Steve took your hand and slowly lead you out of his bedroom, though he seemed just as reluctant as you to have to let go and pretend to just be friends. "Your sister thought it would be too much to give you my blanket during the movie, but I think I like having you in my clothes more."
You smiled. "If it's anything scary, I'll jump a lot and cling to you and we can blame it on the movie."
Steve grinned. "Let's hope Robin brings a good scary movie, and that Eddie wins the vote tonight, then."
Max shut the door before you could see it was open, making sure it closed quietly, quickly flushed the toilet, and turned on the sink and made a show of opening the door to see the two of you. She glanced pointedly at your hands.
"I thought we were still making Dustin guess," she said.
Steve sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know." He brought your joined hands to his mouth and kissed the back of your hand before letting you go. "Alright, I'm done now."
The three of you headed back downstairs, Max at the lead and you just behind. Max knew Steve had let you go down the stairs first just so he could watch you prance around in his clothes and run his gaze over you again, but she'd give him a pass, just this once. You did look rather at home in his clothes.
Max watched you while you made yourself at home in your usual spot, in the middle cushion on the Harringtons' couch. In fact, she realized, you looked more like yourself, the happiest you'd been, since Billy had died—maybe even since you'd left California.
Credit where credit was due, Max would have to thank Steve somehow (without it seeming like she was thanking him for bringing you back).
"You want anything?" Steve asked you, tossing you one of the blankets. He set his down on the cushion next to you, then the blanket Robin had claimed on your other side.
"I'm all set," you promised. "Anyone else here yet, Dusty?"
Dustin rolled over onto his back from the place on the floor he'd claimed as his several months back, which he said was the best place to watch the movie from, but Max knew was his spot because it was still close enough to Steve, too. The middle, which was hers, was definitely a better view than Dustin's righthand side.
"Not yet," he said. "Hi."
You smiled. "Hi. Find a good movie?"
"No," Dustin said. "Steve's taste sucks."
Steve narrowed his eyes, picking up a piece of popcorn and throwing it at him. "For the last time, it's my mom's rom-com collection!"
~❊~
Max lay in her spot between Lucas and Dustin, Erica on the other side of Lucas, only half-paying attention to the movie while she braided El's hair, Will and Mike snuggling on the opposite side of Dustin. Max was sure Dustin felt singled out, being boarded by two couples, plus Nancy and Jonathan sharing a blanket and a lounge chair just behind him. Eddie had curled himself up on the chair on Steve's opposite side, covering himself in his blanket to protect himself from the blow of the AC unit.
Robin had managed to snag a new release that had just arrived at Family Video—Tim Burton's Beetlejuice, a movie that had only been out for a few months in the theaters. The kids on the floor had propped themselves up on their elbows, drinks and half-eaten bowls of popcorn in front of them.
Every so often, Max faked a yawn to duck her head back to glance at her sister and Steve. Robin was stretched out across both your laps, and the two of you had leaned together to share both of your blankets after Steve had muttered something about the AC being too cold, only for the others to shout for him not to touch it.
And judging from the way you and Steve occasionally exchanged a look, Max guessed you were holding hands beneath the blanket.
Max turned her attention back to the movie, lifting a small handful of popcorn to her mouth. Not so subtly, Lucas fake-stretched and laid his arm over her shoulders. Giggling quietly, Max snuggled into his side. She heard your amused hum behind from behind her, followed by a small chuckle of Steve's.
As it had the entire movie, thunder crashed outside. While the rain had lightened up enough not to be distracting, the flash of lightning visible through the curtains and the boom of thunder had been frequent and often made the room's occupants jump in fear.
Another boom of thunder announced the power flickering.
Dustin looked back at Steve. "Uh, Steve?"
"We've got a generator," Steve said, but he had sat up straighter and had pulled away from you, his face uneasy.
With the next flicker of lightning and crash of thunder, the power went out.
The group of thirteen sat in the pitch-black room in silence. Lightning illuminated faces briefly, showing Max that Robin had sat up, and that you, Steve, and Eddie were all on your feet.
"There are candles in the study," Steve said, breaking the silence. His voice was wavering, and Max remembered you saying something about cutting a date short due to the storm earlier that week. Was Steve...afraid of storms?
"I'll get them," you said.
"Matches in the drawer next to the sink and lanterns in the sunroom storage cabinet," he continued. "Eds, come on, let's go see if we can get the power back to the fridge and a few lights, yeah?"
"After you," Eddie said and followed Steve out the front door. The pattering rain grew louder as the door opened, revealing a world in grey scale, but still lighter than the inside of the house.
Dustin sat up. "Candles? Why not just use flashlights?"
"Steve only has two flashlights," Robin said. "Working ones, at least. But candles? The Harringtons have plenty of those."
Max followed you around the house, lighting the lanterns as you found them and helping you carry the candles back to the living room.
With the room now illuminated by flickering flame, it was easy to see the worry on people's faces.
"Do you think the whole town's out?" Mike asked.
"No, it can't be," Nancy said, but she didn't sound sure.
Will wriggled out from under his blanket. The look he exchanged with Jonathan was concerned.
"Everybody keep calm," you said, setting a lantern down on the floor at the center of the group. "Steve and Eddie will get the generator running in no time."
Silence fell, still and eerie. You sat beside Max and Lucas, and Max laid her head in your lap, trying to smile up at you. It only took a look for her to know you were lost in your head, in memories of the night Billy went AWOL and had been controlled by the Mind Flayer.
Max took your hand in hers. "It's okay," she promised.
"Mmm," you hummed, but your gaze was fixed on the door; you wouldn't relax until you saw Steve walk back in, unscathed.
The AC kicked back on. A few lights flickered to life and the low hum of the refrigerator filled the room.
Relief filled the room with the sound of an audible sigh. Moments later, the door opened and a waterlogged Steve and Eddie stepped back in.
"Did it work?" Steve asked. Then he heard the AC. "Alright, good." He looked around. "Turn the lights back off—the candles will do until power really comes back."
"Steve, you're drenched," Nancy said, "you're going to catch—"
"A cold, I know," he sighed, glancing over at you. You fought a smile. "Sorry about movie night, guys."
Dustin shrugged. "It was only a matter of time before we lost power. The size of the storm—"
"Oh, shut up, nerd," Erica said, rolling her eyes.
Dustin leaned around Lucas. "Do I need to remind you of the vents?" he hissed.
Erica narrowed her eyes at him.
"Children, children," Eddie admonished with a shit-eating grin that said he knew his chiding was only going to rile them up more.
"Eds," Steve warned, opening the curtains to look outside.
Eleven craned her neck to peer outside. In a small voice, she asked, "Can...can we dance in the rain?"
Nancy hesitated, then said, "I'm not sure that's the best idea, the weather isn't exactly kind at the moment."
Steve looked back outside again. "It's not raining too heavily right now."
El wrung her hands. "Joyce says it's...fun and romantic to dance in the rain."
Robin leaned forward, gasping. "You've never danced in the rain before?"
El shook her head. "Only biked in it."
"We have to go dance in the rain!" Robin insisted, jumping to her feet and pulling Eleven up with her. "It's a...a...a cognitive milestone!"
"I don't think that's the right phrase, Robin," you laughed, but you were also getting up. "Still, I think it's a good idea. Good way to pass the time until the power comes back."
"Come on, Nancy," Jonathan said softly. "Let her have fun. Mom's right. It's fun in the rain."
You took one of Robin's hands and one of Steve's and dragged them into the rain. Robin created a chain by grabbing El, who grabbed Max, who grabbed Lucas. The small group raced out into the street, running through puddles and spinning through the falling rain.
Dustin appeared at Max's side, his hair matted to his face. "It's like the time they were drugged by the Russians," he said, staring at Steve and Robin, the latter of whom was trying to taste the rain.
Max did a doubletake. "When they were what?"
"Don't ask," Erica suggested.
Laughter filled the air as the group danced around each other, twirling each other and splashing through the current of water at the side of the road. Steve tripped through puddles with Robin; Jonathan convinced Nancy to dance in the driveway; Will and Mike splashed each other in the puddles.
"May I have this dance?" Lucas asked, holding his hand out to Max and trying his best to look gentlemanly, which was ruined by the water running into his eyes and making him squint.
"You dork," Max laughed, but she took his hand anyway and let him pull her close, guiding her in a slow dance through the rain. She rested her head on his shoulder and watched as you went over to Steve and Robin.
Steve stopped his fooling around, watching you approach with a dopey, lovesick smile. He held out his hands to you and you took them; he twirled you in the rain, catching you and pulling you close before you could fall in the wet road.
"Careful there," he laughed. Even with his hair plastered to his head, his clothes heavy and hanging off him, you were still looking at him like he was the most beautiful creature you'd ever seen.
Max watched the time slow around the pair of you. She knew you were both completely oblivious, cut off from the company around you, even from Robin's stare as she took in the way the two of you gazed at each other.
Steve swayed you, getting himself lost in your eyes. He cupped your face with one hand, running his thumb over your cheekbone.
Lost in your bubble, neither of you noticed that the others had all stopped to watch, unable to speak and break the spell—not even Dustin, whose mouth hung agape.
You were lost in Steve, Max could tell. Close enough to the pair of you now, she could see you drinking in every detail: the water droplets hanging off Steve's hair and eyelashes, the amazed curve of his open mouth, the gentle swipe of his thumb, the lovestruck look in his eyes, his rosy cheeks so stark against his otherwise pale, cold, and wet skin, the reassuring hold of his arm around your waist.
Max knew what Steve was going to do before it happened, before even you had caught up. He bent his head, slotting your lips together.
Like some magic, divine will, the rain fell a little faster, distant thunder boomed, and lightning splintered through the sky, lighting up the clouds above you and Steve, a dramatic backdrop to a kiss so similar to a first kiss.
Robin whooped first. You and Steve smiled into each other, but neither pulled away, and Max realized you had been aware of your audience the entire time; but keeping it a secret hadn't been worth skipping out on a spectacular rain-soaked kiss.
Mixed in with the cheering was Dustin's incredulous cries of "What?! Max, did you know?!" that she pointedly ignored.
Steve swayed you while the kiss continued, embarrassingly long but adorably sweet. When it finally broke, Steve pressed his forehead against yours.
"I love you," he said, loud enough to be heard over the storm. (Robin shrieked.)
"I love you, too," you giggled. (Robin shrieked louder.)
Steve pushed your wet hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead, then shoved his hand through his own hair to get it out of his face.
"Not what you were expecting, huh, Henderson?" he said with a cheeky grin.
Dustin looked flabbergasted. "How did you know I was— MAX!"
You and Steve burst into a fit of giggles. You snuggled into his chest.
"How is that comfortable? I'm soaked!" Steve asked you.
"Yeah, but it's you," you said. A soft, sweet smile pulled at his lips, barely distracting you from his quiet moan of relief. He squeezed you tight.
"You're going to need to borrow more of my clothes," he said.
You grinned up at him. "I'll happily live in your clothes, Stevie."
A few feet away, Mike sneezed violently.
"Alright, back inside," Steve decided. "That's enough rain for today. I don't need you all getting sick and still needing me to drive you everywhere."
Dustin rolled his eyes. "Are you actually gonna drive us again?"
"If you give my girl the front seat and behave when she's in the car with us," Steve said. "Inside, come on. Go, shoo."
He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, watching the others flee to the safety of his house, then following them in with you. You kissed his cheek as you walked. Max hung back with Lucas, wanting to know what you said about the sudden rain kiss.
"You are perfect, Steve Harrington," you whispered. His cheeks darkened.
"Says you," he said, nuzzling his nose into your hair. "Hey, um... You wanna stay the night?"
"Gotta take Max home," you said. "But...I can come back?"
"I...I'd like that," Steve said. Max wondered if he'd ever been this shy with a girl before.
"Me too," you whispered. Steve squeezed your hip.
Dustin rolled his eyes from the doorway. "Get a room," he groaned.
"Oh, shut up," Max teased. "You're just annoyed you couldn't figure it out!"
Dustin scowled. "You knew! You knew and you were hiding it from me!"
Max shrugged, fighting a giggle.
Steve passed out towels with a warning not to let them get close to an open flame. Halfway through his warning, the power flickered back on—and so did the movie.
The group cheered, but Max watched you and Steve sneak upstairs and come down a few minutes later in dry clothes, hand in hand. She smiled before shaking her head and turning back to the ending of the movie.
And if—no, when—Steve asked her for advice on how to propose to you, Max was going to tell him to do it in the rain.
☞ ❊ ☜
Tumblr media
Stranger Things // Steve Harrington
Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life
539 notes · View notes
williamrikers · 11 months
Text
On the subject of consent in recent BLs
In this analysis, I will take a look at several love scenes in recent Thai BLs, how they frame consent and the sexual agency of the characters, and why those matter.
(KinnPorsche deserves its own post: I’m sure people have already written in detail about how much emphasis is placed on issues of consent/non-consent throughout the show and how fundamental consent is to the relationship arcs of both KinnPorsche and VegasPete, and I won’t belabor the point here. Also, special shout-out to The Warp Effect for what it brought to the conversation about gay sex, but TWE isn’t technically a BL so I decided not to include it in this analysis.)
I am going to take a closer look at the following shows in this essay: Not Me, The Eclipse, A Boss And A Babe, Step By Step, and La Pluie.
Not Me and The Eclipse predate the other shows by two years/one year respectively, but I feel it is valuable to include them here because both show very explicit negotiations of consent that I feel are spiritual successors to the wonderful scenes we’ve been getting in the other three shows.
Why am I even writing this? There used to be an unfortunate tendency in the genre to have a power imbalance between the “seme” and the “uke” character, which translated into the seme deciding when to have sex and what kind of sex to have—and even though recently, several shows have done good work in dismantling the seme/uke dynamic and questioning the associated stereotypes, it cannot be denied that the archetypes are still an important part of most BLs, and even in cases where the tropes are played with and questioned, understanding those subversions still requires a knowledge of and familiarity with the original tropes on the part of the audience.
However, gone are the days of Until We Meet Again and Dean’s “I’ve waited long enough, make sure you’re ready.” (I enjoyed UWMA a lot but that was. Yeah. Not Great.) Now, we see characters actually talking about and negotiating their limits, and doing what feels good to them.
Let’s start from the very beginning. Not Me was an absolute trailblazer in this regard, and not mentioning it here would be a gross oversight. The first time Sean and White have sex, it happens in their version of the beach episode. (Which, in Not Me, is the two characters briefly living in a tent inside an abandoned building. This show is the best.) Sean and White are removed from their usual environment and protected from the outside world by two barriers: the walls of the old house and the tent that’s literally enveloping them and giving them a space that is unequivocally theirs, shared, in which neither one of the characters has any sort of power over the other. And what happens in that space when they’re about to have sex is extremely interesting: the first thing Sean asks is whether White is afraid of him, which White denies. The following exchange goes like this: White: "So, what are we doing?" Sean: "What should I do to you?" White: "That’s up to you." (Watch the whole scene here.)
I find this exchange incredibly meaningful because this already turns the seme/uke dynamic that can be found in a lot of other shows on its head. OffGun as a branded pair can easily be stereotyped into the seme/uke dynamic just because of their physical appearances, and clearly spelling out that both characters have agency in this scene is incredibly important.
And then it gets better! Sean assumes that White is sexually inexperienced (which is not true but the fact that White was actually in a relationship with a woman back in Russia never comes up again after the pilot episode, so maybe the show expects us to assume this, too), and suggests they try different things and White can tell him what he likes and doesn’t like. Compared to the stuff we’re getting now, this scene isn’t very high heat at all, but it’s one of my favorite intimate scenes ever because them asking each other “Do you like this?” after every kiss, every touch, is so incredibly unique and transports a wonderful sense of figuring out sexual pleasure together, as a couple.
Sex in Not Me is not something one character does to another, it is something that is discovered and shared together, and we even get an afterglow scene in which they gently tease each other about their fast beating hearts. (And don’t get me started on the importance of White choosing to ask Sean whether Sean is okay with White not being like Black in that moment right before they have sex, because he doesn’t actually want to have sex with Sean as Black! He wants to discover and share intimacy with Sean as White, as himself, not as his brother! The layers!)
Anyway, I think that scene paved the way for a lot of the conversations around consent we’re now getting in BL, just because it is so explicitly, unashamedly putting forward a definition of sexuality that has nothing to do with one character actively giving and the other passively receiving, but frames intimacy as something that is built together. (More on giving and receiving later!)
Now, moving on to The Eclipse. I decided to include the first time Akk and Aye have sex for a different reason: while we don’t really see them actually talking about consent, we see them practicing non-verbal consent. Let me explain. Akk’s and Aye’s whole thing is teasing each other. At first, Aye is usually the one doing the teasing, but Akk gets the hang of it towards the end of the show and teases his boyfriend right back. When they’re in Akk’s childhood bedroom together, Aye clearly alludes to the fact that he thought they might use this opportunity to have sex for the first time, which Akk pretends not to understand, all while alluding to it himself. I love this guy. (Watch the whole scene here.) Anyway, Akk says he wants to sleep, lies down and once again, tells Aye jokingly he just wants to sleep, clearly expecting Aye to do what other BL protagonists do at that point and not take no for an answer (sidenote: I HATE the “saying no as foreplay” trope with a passion and as far as I’m concerned it should die already).
However, Aye is not like other BL love interests, and he backs off. He stops touching Akk, lies down with his back to Akk, showing Akk that he takes him by his word: if Akk says he wants to sleep, Aye is going to let him do just that. So now, it’s on Akk to say that, no, that’s not what he meant, can Aye please come back to cuddle. And then Akk is the one to escalate from cuddling to kissing, which is extremely important: we know that Aye has been ready to have sex with Akk since forever, it’s Akk who’s been having hangups about intimacy this whole time.
They don’t put consent into so many words on this show, but Aye shows Akk that he respects his limits and that Akk only has to tell him he doesn’t want to do something and Aye will take him at his word.
So, these are, to me, two foundational scenes of establishing consent: one that shows consent as something that is established verbally, as an ongoing conversation, and one that shows consent as something that is established physically, by showing your partner that you respect their choices and limits by way of simply acting accordingly.
Now, let’s get into the fun part: scenes we got so far in 2023. I’m writing this post on the 13th of June, and I’m sure this year still has some great things in store for us, especially because Step By Step and La Pluie are both ongoing and neither of the main couples are actually together yet at time of writing. However, they’ve both already given us AMAZING scenes on the topic of consent, so I feel it is worthwhile to write about those already.
I want to start off by talking about A Boss And A Babe.
Let me just preface this by saying that the intimate scenes in ABAAB are some of my all time favorites in BL ever, because in them, sex is something that is just so normal. When Gun and Cher have sex, we don’t see them very passionate, excited, reluctant or wide-eyed innocent (which are some of the emotions traditionally associated with sex in BL). On the contrary, in every single scene that shows them being intimate, both characters are incredibly calm. They’re certainly happy to be with each other, but in a subdued way. Someone described their second intimate scene as them seeming like they’ve been married for a few years. They’re both just… incredibly normal about having sex with each other. It’s simply something they like to do together. It’s a part of their romance but it’s not more or less important than any other aspects of their lives.
And consent is at the very heart of it.
When Gun and Cher have their first time, we see Gun explicitly asking for consent two times: first, “Can I kiss you?”, then, “Can I do more?” The second one even comes with the promise that if Cher says no, Gun will immediately go to sleep without mentioning it again. And then it is on Cher to say yes, to pull Gun close and kiss him to show him that he is comfortable with taking things further. (In the show, these two questions were shown apart from each other, I cut together a version of the whole First Time Scene in its entirety, watch it here.)
Now, things get more interesting: the second intimate scene shows Cher initiating the encounter (watch the whole scene here). Cher pretty consistently falls into the uke category, both physically and as far as characterization is concerned, but he’s certainly not shy in the bedroom. And this time, he’s the one who asks for consent from Gun: Gun asks “You’re starting it?” and Cher’s response is “Can I?” Despite him being framed physically lower than Gun, basically at Gun’s mercy, he still seeks confirmation that Gun is okay with the way things are going. Not to overstate it, but to me, this feels revolutionary. Once again, we’re being shown that sex is something two people do together, as a shared activity, and that the “seme” character isn’t expected to just be up for it. He, too, has the right to say no.
On this show, sexual agency is taken extremely seriously, and it is clear that both Gun and Cher give each other space to decide what they’re comfortable doing. This is shown in non-intimate scenes as well: there are so many moments on ABAAB in which the characters negotiate physical touch and closeness, asking each other for hugs before actually hugging each other, Cher leaning on Gun’s shoulder in the car but not allowing Gun to touch him because that’s not what he’s comfortable with in that moment, and so on. (The only exception to this otherwise pretty consistent rule is the kiss in the car scene, which I’m still extremely confused about because it seems to go completely against Gun’s character. Who knows what happened there.)
Of course, the fact that so much emphasis is placed on negotiation and consent isn’t surprising on a show that has such obvious kink undertones and whose Our Skyy 2 entry basically consisted entirely of Dom/sub roleplay at work—I’m just saying, I think someone on the writing team is way into BDSM and knows all about the importance of enthusiastic consent from all parties involved, and I would like to send them flowers.
Step By Step hasn’t really reached the point where we can analyse the dynamic between the main couple (although we can take some educated guesses based on the interactions we’ve seen so far). However, last week’s episode had an extremely important scene between Pat and Put: Pat wanting to have sex with Put, then changing his mind mid make-out (watch the whole scene here). I really like the way this scene was done. No matter how shitty Put treats Pat at times, in this instance, he immediately understood and respected Pat’s change of mind without Pat even saying or explaining anything—at the end of the episode, Put says to Pat that Pat should tell Put when he feels ready to have sex. (We already know this will never happen because of course, Pat and Put are not endgame, but I do appreciate the sentiment.)
BLs rarely include a whole storyline in which the protagonist is in an actual, serious romantic relationship with someone other than his endgame love interest (hi Moonlight Chicken!), or if they do then just to up the angst factor. In this case, however, I feel that this scene raises our expectations for Jeng even further: if the guy who is definitely not a romantic match for Pat treats Pat with this much respect in the bedroom, then Jeng has to do at least that and then some. I do feel confident that Jeng won’t disappoint in this regard, but it’s fascinating to see a show frame this kind of respect as the absolute baseline minimum, with the endgame love interest expected to do even better.
Now, the one you’ve all been waiting for. The one that made me write this whole essay in the first place: La Pluie.
Oh boy. Where to start.
A week ago, we got an incredible make-out scene on Saengtai’s floor, which ended in Patts stopping the encounter because he could tell Tai wasn’t really comfortable taking things further—@bengiyo talked about that scene in detail here. And then, three days ago, La Pluie gave us the most unique, trope-defying, timeline-changing blowjob scene of all time, and I want to talk about it.
Tai and Patts are making out on their bed, Tai is not ready to go “all the way” and stops Patts from undressing him. We see a very realistic frustrated reaction from Patts, who nevertheless immediately stops and accepts Tai’s wishes—it is clear that Patts does not expect things to go any further at this point, and that he won’t pressure Tai into anything.
And then, Tai offers to blow him.
(Unfortunately, this show is only on iQiyi so I can't link to it, but you can get a good impression of the scene here.)
I mentioned the concepts of giving and receiving earlier: other people have said this more eloquently than me, but there is a tendency not only in BL but also in wider society to view sex in terms of giving and receiving, with a lot of expectations and stereotypes attached to the roles during different sexual acts. On other shows, that blowjob might be framed as a consolidation or an apology, something that the giver does out of a sense of obligation without enjoying it much. Not so on La Pluie! Tai is shown incredibly happy and satisfied afterwards, both when they’re sleeping next to each other, as well as on the morning after (see also @ginnymoonbeam's post about that here). Tai offered to blow Patts because he simply wanted to, not motivated by guilt or anything of that sort. And he genuinely enjoyed it! In the post I linked above, @bengiyo points out that La Pluie consistently centers queer desire, or more specifically in this case, male desire for a male body; much in the same way that the camera fucking loves Force’s body on ABAAB: the sensuality of the skin, the hands, the abs, the flat chests, the broad backs and shoulders of these men is explicitly emphasized, and Tai’s desire for a dick in his mouth is made absolutely crystal-clear. Of course, since this is a TV show and not a porno, we only see Patts’s thumb in Tai’s mouth instead of his dick, but the imagery, the implications, are clear as day.
And it is such a gentle framing, too: Patts caresses Tai’s lip lovingly, Tai opens his mouth slowly, seductively, then faces Patts’s crotch with a soft look on his face. We do get a clear sense of this encounter as tender, and gentle, and most of all, desired. Tai’s queer desire is at the heart of this scene, and at the heart of the afterglow scene as well. He wanted this man’s dick in his mouth, openly suggested it, showed Patts he was sure about his decision after Patts asked him whether he was, and ended up clearly happy and satisfied with the sex they had. This post, also by @bengiyo, goes into more detail on that.
This, once again, shows us sex as a conversation rather than a series of predetermined acts, shows us sex as a shared activity, as something that can be wonderful and intimate and make people happy without following what society views as “the correct steps”. I think this is extremely important because one part of queer identity is figuring out one’s own relationship to sexuality, one’s own desires and needs, and BLs that ignore this aspect fall a little short in my opinion. Sure, those men are kissing, but do they experience queer desire? Do they experience joy in their queer desire?
For me personally, a show that does not shy away from these questions is a lot more meaningful than a show that does, and consent is at the heart of it all. By framing sex as a conversation, as something that is built and shared together, the shows I looked at here are actively positioning themselves against the idea that there should be predetermined roles for partners during sex, and instead suggest that queer joy can be found in communication and consent. Understanding sex and intimacy as something that is built together, with both partners as equals in conversation, is just as radically queer as a man waking up with a smile on his face after giving his soulmate a blowjob the previous night.
And quite honestly, a male character who clearly, passionately, unquestioningly communicates that he wants a dick inside of him—that is incredibly sexy. But maybe that’s just me.
513 notes · View notes
Title: Atta Girl
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Word count: 1,330
Warnings: dirty talk, no actual smut but a definite lead up
A/N: I’ve never written Hotch before, so please be kind. I apologize for no editing, the idea came to me and I immediately wrote it on my phone lmao Enjoy! Feedback appreciated!!
Tagging @ssahotstuff and @hotchscvm because I recently discovered you guys and love your fics (hope it’s okay I tagged you!)
———
Pulling into the motel parking lot the team exited their SUV’s, grabbing their bags and slowly walking towards the rooms. Each of you were at the brink of near collapse from exhaustion, so everyone agreed to whatever lodging was closest.
“Alright, get some sleep. We regroup around 8am.” Hotchner looked over his shoulder.
“Come on Hotch,” Morgan groaned. “Give us a break, man.”
Hotch stopped and took in the teams exhausted faces. “Okay, I’ll give you a break. 8:15am be ready.”
“Such generosity,” Emily laughed.
“Reid, Morgan, Dave, you’re all in room 7. Emily, JJ, Garcia, you’re all in room 8. Y/N,” he turned to you. “You’re with me. Each of the rooms can only sleep 3 with someone taking the couch.”
“Fine.” You didn’t argue and walked past him. “But if you snore I’m sleeping in the car.”
Walking into the room you both gave each other an exasperated look. The beds were tiny. There was a table and chair in the corner that looked like it would collapse any second. And neither of you wanted to be there, but also didn’t have the energy to verbally protest.
“I’m going to feel huge in this bed.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his words. “What?”
“Um, in a different context that was kinda dirty.” You started to laugh again and Hotch ran his hands over his face.
“Must everything be dirty?”
“When it’s going to be funny, yeah.” You gave him a quick smirk and turned back to your bag. But it’s also a good option when you want to get a topic going.”
Hotch paused, staring down at his own bag. “Which one is it?”
You paused. “Right now? Funny.” You paused again. “But that’s just right now.”
Hotch let your words sink in and before he could respond you were the first to speak.
“Shower?” Hotch turned at your words. “Do you need it right now because I’m gross as hell.”
“Oh, no, all yours.” Hotch turned back to his bags to unpack his things.
You got the shower running and were halfway through shampooing when you heard a knock. “Y/N? I…”
“Yes?”
“I really, really need to pee. I’m sorry.” You could tell the mortification on his part through the door.
“You’re fine! Come in. I grew up with one bathroom so I’m used to it.”
As the door opened Hotch tried to keep his composure. “I am sorry.” You could tell he was hesitating.
“Um, you do remember I was a nurse for 5 years right? This is nothing.” Your words helped him relax.
While you finished rinsing your hair you were extremely aware of the fact that only a thin curtain stood between the two of you. You were completely exposed, and in a way so was he.
You could hear him wash his hands and leave the room. Quickly finishing you toweled off, threw your hair in a second towel, and wrapped yourself tightly making sure it wouldn’t fall. Grabbing the door handle you opened the door. “Bathrooms free.”
Hotch grabbed his things and walked over. As you moved to leave, he was coming through the doorway. Your chest brushed against his and your towel started to slip. As your hand flew to grab the towel, Hotch stared down at you, focusing on your face.
“That’s the second time you’ve been ‘inappropriate’ tonight.” Hotch’s eyes never left yours. “I’m starting to think you were trying to start a conversation earlier.”
Unsure of how to respond you moved through the doorway and turned to him. “Glad you’re finally catching on,” you smirked and walked away. Hotch took a deep breath and closed the door.
You grabbed a tank top and underwear and right as you covered yourself you heard the door open. “Can I come out? I forgot something.”
“Yeah no problem.” You answered not really realizing the level of undressed you were.
When Hotch turned the corner, he stopped mid-step, completely caught off guard. You didn’t even realize it until you felt his eyes on you.
“Oh, shit. Sorry. It’s how I slee-“ but you couldn’t finish your sentence. Standing there in nothing but a towel you took in his body. His large frame, his arms and shoulders, chest and torso.
“You good?” Hotch smirked, taking a few steps towards you.
“Um, respectfully,” you paused. “No way I could have guessed you looked….well this good under your suit.” Each of you let your words hang in the air. Hotch slowly started walking towards you.
“What caught your eye first?”
“I think…your biceps.” Your mind raced to give a reason. “You could really throw a girl around.”
In one motion Hotch crossed to you, grabbed your arms, circled them around his neck, and grabbed both your legs at your thigh to wrap around his waist. You buried your face in the base of his neck as you tightened your grip around his waist. Without a word he walked you to a wall and as soon as your back hit, he pulled his head back as you let yours rest against the wall. His eyes studied your face. Pupils dilated, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and chest rapidly rising and falling.
“You’re right. I can throw a girl around.”
“Show me.” You challenged.
Hotch smirked. “First I gotta make sure you’ll be worth it.”
It was your turn to smile. “Oh I promise…I will be.”
“I knew you would.”
Finally breaking the tension you pulled his lips to yours. You held the kiss, neither of you moving for several seconds. When the kiss finally broke, you each pulled back and smiled.
“Fucking hell Y/N.”
Hotch pressed his lips back to yours and this time the kiss was deeper. Your tongues slowly met and you tangled your fingers into his hair as your grip tightened on the top of his back. He dug his nails lightly, but firmly into your thigh with one hand and brought the other to tangle in your hair at the base of your head.
You needed him to know you were all in, but also you weren’t going to let him run the show. At least not right away. Getting a good grip on his hair you pulled his head back. You dragged your tongue up the side of his neck before resting your lips right next to his ear.
“You take on too much, and are in control too often. Let me show you what a good girl like me can do to you.”
Hotch’s breath caught in his throat before he let out a soft, low laugh that made his chest rumble. It was his turn to fist and pull your hair, exposing your neck to drag his tongue across your pulse point. His lips rested at the base of your ear and he paused to collect himself.
“You will be my good girl…however,” his hand let go of your hair and moved in one smooth motion to lightly grip your throat, “you will also be my dirty little slut, just for me, and show me every trick you have. I will take control when you edge me to the point I have no choice but to stop you so that after I make you cum again,” his grip tightened around your throat, “and again,” his grip tightened more, “and again, I will force you to the point you are literally begging for me to rail you until you nearly black out you cum so hard on my cock.” His hand let go and went back to grab your thigh. “Understand?”
Your head was spinning. Your pussy was tingling. You couldn’t decide if you wanted to kiss him or drop to your knees right then.
“I understand completely…sir.”
“Atta girl.”
He let you down slowly to your feet. His towel falling away as you slid down his body.
“Now,” he took a step back. “Show me how my perfect good girl will be my dirty little slut.”
197 notes · View notes
hazshit-hotel-hater · 2 months
Text
I’m gonna be honest I don’t understand how people can be hazbin hotel fans and just know everything vivziepop has done and dont care or they choose to pretend they dont know so they dont have to feel guilty about it. Shocking news, you can be INCREDIBLY critical of media you enjoy parts of. I enjoy parts of this show but I’m not going to go buy shit to watch it and support some random lady using a closed religion to make her tumblr sexyman character look “scary”.
I saw someone say vivziepop misgendering someone (allegedly on accident) after getting mad, was a “nothing sandwich” which 1. No the fuck it aint. And also 2. Are you actually off your rocker nuts. I don’t give a fuck if it was an accident heat of the moment thing. Sure you can apologise for that, not me who you misgendered so I cant accept it, but misgendering anyone is never a “nothing sandwich”. Same guy also said that vivzie demonising and appropriating vodou was okay because “Alastor can do it” That… doesn’t fucking matter? VIVZIE can’t practice vodou and neither can her weird red suited deer man, sorry to burst your bubble.
I think everyone thats scrolled even a few inches on my blog (cause really thats all I have) can tell I like Angel Dust. Lots of people like Angel Dust. But apparently half of those people can’t comprehend you can dislike aspects of a character while liking other ones. I mean this directed toward fans by the way. Id sure as hell prefer if he wasn’t fucking fetishised for being a gay man but its vivziepop so literally what can I expect from the lady that makes merch glorifying his abuse. “Yes vivzie! Id love to purchase merch of a traumatic situation ive also been in! Thank you so much for making it look pretty!” I will literally eat glass and drink battery acid before any of this shit actually comes outta my mouth.
It’s so fucking weird how her spin-off show has better representation, humour, writing, and more than her actual main show. Im super glad Helluva Boss is good. Im glad there isn’t any stupid racist representations in there or overly fetishised gay men. Fizzaroli and Ozzie are a cute couple thats written very nicely but even they have elements of vivziepops unsavoury interests that you can see sometimes, but oh my god. Put some of that care into your MAIN show. I am holding out so much hope that vivzie continues the good writing of episodes 7 & 8 so much I am not going to stop noting that, but I am also fully ready to crash and burn from those hopes and that is so fucking disappointing.
129 notes · View notes
enha-cafe · 1 year
Note
incubus txt x reader!! Any thoughts??
a/n ayo i am like a resident monster fucker (even though i've like never written anu which how???) so lets get started please keep in mind this isn't a very well-developed thought
yeonjun
he's the incubus you jokingly summoned one night while tipsy. you were scrolling through twitter trying to find some meaning when suddenly someone's "how to summon an incubus" thread pops up and you think what's the worst this could possibly do? actually summon an incubus, that's the worst it could do. now here you are with your ass up as some demon is fucking into you. drool is rolling down your chin and you can't believe this is real. he's not going to let you cum until you promise to make a pact with him. there's no way he's willing to give you up.
soobin
no wonder why this man is an incubus, he's absolutely insatiable. he's was just some guy that you were flirting with because making him flustered was just too fun. never would you think that shy guy in the bar was going to be a literal sex demon. going round after round filling you with his cum. only making you hornier with each thrust. neither of you ever fully satisfied. his hands, his cock, and his tail playing with every part of you. you can get used to this.
beomgyu
for a minute you truly thought you were living in some horror movie. seeing a shadow in the corner of your room. how glad you were when you realized it was a lust-filled fantasy that come to life. an incubus going round after round with you. having you scream out in pleasure as he pumps you full of cum. dragging his fingers along you spine marking you as his newly claimed property.
taehyun
your sweet boyfriend was always so touchy and teased you every chance he would get. you never realized the teasing was to fuel his hunger. the night he finally got you that sweet boyfriend you once had was long gone. seeing a monster take him over as he pounds into you. his tail waving in the hair with delight. telling you how cute you are to corrupt as he ruins you for any mortal.
kai
the incubus who comes to you once a month and you always just think he's some wet dream. always coming at the late hours of the night when you're too tired to fall asleep. playing with your pussy and having you cumming on his tongue. using his tail to prep your tight hole for him. cumming around his cock until you're fucked dumb. he always sends you back to sleep with a kiss on the forehead counting down the days until he sees you again.
Tumblr media
tag list: @sunoouz @hoonslutt @moonlighthoon @rikismiel
567 notes · View notes
wheredafandomat · 6 months
Text
Good boy
Spencer Reid! x F. BAU Reader
18+ | contains smut ~ this is my first Reid fic so bear with me 😂
Tumblr media
“What’s his problem?” You asked, your eyes following Spencer as he paced the length of the room seemingly reciting something to himself.
“He’s got an exam” Morgan answered unfazed.
“I can hear you” Spencer chirped in, not bothering to pause his pacing.
“Yeah so, he’s got a good memory, he’ll be fine” you dismissed, continuing your conversation with Morgan as you both watched Spencer.
“He’s got a photographic memory,” Morgan agreed.
“Actually” Spencer paused, turning to you both “it’s called an eidetic memory” he corrected.
“Exactly, you’ll be fine” Morgan smiled “now let’s go get a drink” he suggested as you nodded along with him. It was your first free Friday night in over a month after all.
“Neither of you can guarantee that I’ll pass,” Spencer snapped.
“Spence” you began before he interrupted.
“Am I not allowed to feel a little apprehensive just this one time?” He continued to opine.
“I’m not saying that, I’m saying—”
“That you’ll do fine, more than fine like you always do” Morgan cut in, thinking he was fixing the situation by speaking for you.
“I’m staying here to revise, enjoy your drink” Spencer dismissed himself sharply, pushing past Morgan a little as he left.
“I better stay too” you sighed, looking at Morgan.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I’ll help him” you nodded, causing Morgan to grin knowingly after walking into a session of Spencer helping you a month ago “I’m being serious.”
“Okay sugar” Morgan shrugged defensively, still smiling “good luck.”
Once you were alone, you picked up the notepad that was on Spencer’s desk. Flicking through the pages, you read through his messy scribblings, skimming through what it was he was revising before an idea came to you. Picking up a seperate piece of paper and a pen, you wrote a note before slipping it underneath the door Spencer had locked himself behind.
‘Hotch's office in 5’
Seeing the note slide in from underneath the door, Spencer picked it up confused as to why you had written it. He could recognise your handwriting anywhere but it didn’t ease his bewilderment as to why you didn’t call or text or why you were telling him to meet you in Hotch’s office. Despite his puzzlement, Spencer waited four and a half minutes before heading towards Hotch’s office. Opening the door, his eyes widened as they settled on you.
“I wanna play a game” you spoke as Spencer’s eyes moved up your legs.
“I don’t have time for games” he answered waveringly, clearing his throat as his eyes settled on your face.
“Oh, you’ll enjoy this one” you smirked, lifting your leg and adjusting your position so that it crossed over the other one whilst also briefly flashing your lacy underwear hidden beneath your pencil skirt. “I’m going to ask you a question and each answer you get right, you’ll get to choose which item of clothing I take off” you explained sultrily “sound good?”
“Y/n” Spencer swallowed thickly before licking his lips.
“Unless you don’t want to play” you shrugged nonchalantly, hopping off of the desk.
“No” Spencer quickly interjected.
“Good” you smiled coyly before reading out the first question which Spencer answered correctly of course. “Good boy, what do you want me to take off?” You questioned.
“Your um,—your hair tie,” he answered skittishly.
“Really?” You asked, brows raising questioningly to which Spencer nodded. Rolling your eyes, you untied your hair before asking the next question.“Correct.”
“Your blazer,” Spencer requested.
You continued asking him questions based on what he had written down until you were sitting across Hotch's desk in your bra and skirt, your panties dangling out of Spencer’s back pocket.
“Last question Spence” you announced.
“Mhmm” Spencer nodded, swallowing.
“How much do you want me to take off my bra?”
“A-a lot” he answered, causing you to smile as you unclasped it, your breasts springing free in front of him. Using one of your fingers, you beckoned him closer to which he abided.
“I told you, you don’t need to worry, you’ve got this” you whispered in his ear before licking the shell of it as you pulled him down towards you.
“Can I—can I touch you?” He asked.
“I keep telling you, you don’t need to ask,” you smiled.
“But I—”
“Touch me” you interrupted him. You widened your legs as Spencer stood between them, his hand snaking underneath your skirt which was the only item of clothing left on you as he met your moist centre. He used two of his long fingers to draw tight circles around your clit as you moaned in his ear before his lips met yours in a shy kiss. You deepened it as your hand felt his hard erection, straining against his dress pants. He groaned into the kiss as you freed his length, palming him as your thumb spread precum over his tip.
“Y/nn” he rasped, almost strangled as your thumb moved across his slit.
“Shh” you giggled “remember how to use it?” You spoke against his lips.
“That, I definitely haven’t forgotten” he answered almost proudly.
“Go on then pretty boy, impress me.”
Spencer’s hand replaced yours as he fisted his length a few times before lining it up with your entrance. Sinking inside of you, he bit his lip to contain his moan as his eyes closed, bottoming out. You laid back against the desk as Spencer began to move, slowly, leisurely rocking his hips into yours as he enjoyed the feeling of your walls around him. Growing desperate, his hands gripped your hips as he sped his movements, grunts escaping him with every plunge into you, every calculated thrust.
“Use your hand sexy boy” you smiled up at him as your gazes met. He simpered at the praise before pushing your skirt up a little and using his thumb to rub circles on your clit. “Just like thatt” you moaned as he thrusted into you with more conviction, his mind focused on your pleasure as he moved in and out of you. “I’m soo close baby don’t stop” you begged, Spencer knowing he never would as he fought to stave off his own orgasm; you felt so good. “Spence I’m gonna cum” you almost screamed as waves of pleasure consumed you.
Proud of himself, Spencer let himself go too as your walls thrummed around him, milking his cock as he came. His hips juddered as he slowed his pace, his hand moving away from your clit as your thighs shook. Grunting, he thrust once more, emptying himself deep inside of you.
“Have you gotten through to y/n?” JJ asked, looking at Morgan.
“No luck, you?” He answered.
“No, Reid isn’t answering, that’s not like him” JJ answered.
“Damn, that kids got game” Morgan spoke mostly to himself at the realisation of what was happening.
Tumblr media
😁I hope you enjoyed this! I’m gonna head to bed x
Friends who might enjoy:
@sailorholly @lokisgoodgirl @mochie85
397 notes · View notes
cassiopeiasdaughter · 9 months
Text
maroon
Theodore Nott x fem!reader
part of the midnights collection
November 17th, 1998
Dear Diary,
Writing here has always been a way for me to vent about everything; let it all out and go on with my day.
But how am I ever going to be able to move on when life now has everything to do with the War?
All the issues that mattered once, seem so insignificant now. Maybe that is why I haven’t written in so long. I think I’ve almost forgotten how to.
You sigh and look outside your window, thinking of a way to continue; a way to let out your thoughts. To do that of course you have to calm the chaos in your mind, untangle every issue and then write it down.
Instead you look outside, it is midnight, or close to anyways, and the sky is clear. It’s a nice change, after all the raining that November has brought, so far.
You can see the moon as it lights everything up, the moonlight mixes with the lights of the town and for a split second you feel a flutter of hope inside. It feels like a sign, how the light defies darkness; it always finds a way to stay and wins. Maybe, just maybe you will win too.
I am scared. I never considered myself brave or daring; at least not like Harry or everyone else, but this War has turned me into a terrified mess. Sleeping is the worst part. Everyday, I try to forget about my worries, push those thoughts and feelings deep deep down but at night, once I let my guard down they come rushing back up.
I think of Dumbledore and his death; the first time I ever felt this unsafe. Then, everything I have seen on the battlefield flashes before my eyes. Everything that has gone wrong and then everything that can go wrong. I see everyone I love dead; I see us lose and I see him win. I don’t want him to win. He can’t win.
You need a minute to breathe before continuing, you stand up and take long strides across your room, while trying to control your breathing.
Count to 10 and go again, that is what they advise you, and it is what you do until you can breathe again. Search for something in the room to ground you, another advice that you follow.
Once you’ve calmed your nerves you sit back down and take your favorite pen in your hands.
Change of subject. Remus and Moody split us up in small groups. An easy way for them to organize everything, assign tasks, communicate with us etc. Each group has a different code name and different responsibilities, which means we'll be spending a lot of time together. My partners are alright, I feel safe with them, for the most part.
Thankfully Hermione is with us, along with Neville and Luna. The boys are stationed somewhere else, they haven't given us their location, in case something bad happens. Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson are also in our group. Shocked, are you? I’ll explain.
A few months ago they joined the Order. It feels so weird saying that. They were Slyherins, their families are Death Eaters. At school they mocked us, bragged about their families or their blood status. Well not all of them, Nott didn't say much, neither did Zabini, not to me at least.
Blaise Zabini, was killed by some Death Eaters, YouKn Voldemort ordered it. He hadn't taken the Mark and from what I understand he wasn't interested in this War either, he was planning to flee with Nott and Pansy; before their parents forced them to take the Mark (Malfoy has but you remember that from sixth year).
Voldemort found out and he killed him in front of everyone, to scare them I guess and prevent any traitors. Pansy was the first one to leave after that, and the boys followed her. They hid around the country for a while, but eventually they found us. They asked for protection and in return they would tell us everything they knew.
It didn't take long before they actually joined us, Draco doesn't seem that interested in beating Voldemort, but the other two, they want our side to win. They are just as scared as we are. I guess they finally understand what this War means.
It is complicated with them. I don't know whether to pity them or hate them. It would be so easy to blame them for everything. But I can't.
You let out a sigh as you look up. You don't know what you want to write next and you don’t feel tired enough to sleep. So you head downstairs to the kitchen hoping to find something to ease your mind.
The house is quiet, usually at this time everyone is in their rooms, getting ready for their missions, or asleep.
You are lost in thought when you hear a male voice that startles you, "Couldn't sleep either?"
“Nott” you say breathless “You scared me. It’s late, why aren’t you sleeping?”
You know why; it’s the same reason you are awake and the same reason why those who do sleep at night, always have a bottle of Sleeping Draught near their beds.
He responds with a weak smile.
“So what brings you here?” He says as he turns around and opens cabinets, clearly in search of something.
“Needed to get out of my room.” You reply
“Aha here it is.” He says triumphantly, holding a bottle of wine in his hands.
“Maroon Rosé” he reads the label quietly “It is no Merlot but it will have to do.”
You took a moment to observe him, his hair is messy, messier than usual.
His eyes aren’t the cold green that scared you in school, they seem welcoming now. Maybe it is the War or the exhaustion, but he seems more normal now, less scary.
Looking up at you with a sad smile and the bottle of wine in one hand he says “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in the back-porch wallowing, you’re welcome to join.”
You quirked an eyebrow and he raises a finger “But only for wallowing, I can’t be bothered with heroic pep talks today.”
You let out a sigh and grab an ashtray from the counter before you join him outside.
As you open the door, the winter night breeze sends chills all over your body and you curse yourself for not having worn something thicker- warmer before leaving your room.
You find Theo sitting on the floor, just a few steps away from the door. His back is leaning against the wall and his head is slightly turned up towards the sky. His hand clutches the bottle as he takes a long sip before holding it out to you; an invitation that you gladly take.
You sit down, knees raised in front of you to keep you warm and you place your things between you and Theo.
“Nothing like the expensive shit you’re used to, right?” you say sarcastically
He takes a moment to drink and then looks at you; “Well, I am not a wine man, more of a…” he pretends to focus “Firewiskey, no rocks. Yeah.” 
“That” you say mockingly and take the bottle from his hands “Would be Snape, if he let himself drink.”
He looks at you and you both laugh.
You bring the joint to your mouth and light it. You inhale, let yourself relax and then exhale.
“Now where did you find that?” Theo says with a grin, observing you closely.
You pass him the joint, asking him without words if he is interested; to which he responds with a long drag.
“I have friends” you say and continue as he raises his eyebrows in question “Luna gave it to me.”
You let out a laugh as you explain “She said it would help calm my nerves and sleep, in the way that nature wants us to”, you say the last few words in Lunas voice
He lets out a laugh and closes his eyes as he leans back at the wall, resting his head for a moment. 
He rubs his eyes and lets out a loud sigh “If you told me last year I would be smoking pot, supplied by Lovegood, with you in the middle of a random night, I-“
“Would have jumped off the astronomy tower?” You finish for him
He gives you a dramatic look, pretending to be surprised “And waste my chance to disappoint my father this much? Absolutely not”
You laugh quietly and then the cold hits you, causing you to shiver loudly.
He sees that and quickly shrugs off his coat, “Here.” He says and hands it out to you
You push his hands back and refuse it “No it’s fine, you don’t have to.”
“I don’t need it, I am coldblooded, Slytherin House and all.”, he jokes as he drapes his brown coat over your shoulders, trapping you in his scent that is now mixed with the smell of wine and smoke.
“You are ridiculous, and thank you.” You say softly
Silence washes over the two of you for a while, leaving you to admire the moon and the stars, the peace nature brings you, even in the times of War. Humans can be violent but the Earth doesn’t care, she continues living; survives despite our self-destructive nature.
Life will go on, after the War, after our deaths; but we must find a way to make the present count for something, not let it be time gone to waste. You tense at the thought of death, destruction, losing. And as you feel your breath quickening you hear a laugh on your right.
You give Theo a confused look, “What?”
“Your face; it reminded me of how you looked at me when we came here.” He said with a grin
“I- what about my face?” You ask annoyed
“Scared the shit out of me, made a mental note to avoid you after that.” He smirked
You open your mouth as if insulted “First of all, you are doing a terrible job at avoiding me and secondly, I was confused and scared when I saw you three.”
He tilts his head to the side and pretends to think before stating “Mmm no, you were furious, I vividly remember your eyebrows almost touching your hairline.”
You smack his arm with your hand and steal the wine bottle from his hands.
Silence falls again between the two of you, you are the one to break it this time, “I never said sorry, about Blaise.” You turn to look at him, gently, as if treating a wounded wild animal “I am sorry.”
He freezes for a moment and he stares into your eyes, “Thank you.” He whispers before turning his head down to his hands and then plays with his rings.
You hear him sigh and turn to look at him; worried.
"I am sorry." he says looking into your eyes, "For how I acted in school."
"I- it is fine, it's in the past now. Besides, you weren't that bad."
Melancholia hits you suddenly, as you remember your school years. How safe you felt in that place. How good it felt to be somewhere you actually belonged in. You missed studying and then complaining about homework. You missed Hogsmead weekends, but most of all you missed how free you were.
"I miss it.", you say quietly, barely a whisper, mostly for you to hear.
"I don't." he responds
You quickly give him confused look why you silently ask him.
"I miss Blaise, but I don't miss Hogwarts, or my home. I- I want the war to end but at least if I die now it will be my choice, I am free now."
"You think we are free? We are able to sit here thanks to the protective spells by Moody. We can’t leave this place without giving notice. We can barely sleep at night because we are terrified someone will attack us in our sleep. I can't see how any of this is freedom.", you say as you feel anger getting the best of you.
"You and I chose to join the Order, you could've ran away, like so many have. We chose to stay and fight.", he explains
You shake your head annoyed, we chose this he says but you don't see how you were given any choice in the matter. You couldn't simply run away, it wasn't like you. You had to fight, that was the noble thing to do.
"I am here because I have to be, I can't run away from something as important as this, running away was never a choice for me." you say with a hint of anger coating your tongue.
"Maybe you are right, but" he lets out a sigh "Draco, Pansy, we weren't raised like that. We- we are given our duties the moment we are born. Get married, have kids, continue the family line. We have no choice in the matter, or the War. It was a given that we would join the Dar- Him."
You knew that, but never actually put any thought to it. It was easier to call them bad and evil, ignorant. It was easier for you to hate them this way. But why should you hate them, they were children just like you; brought into this without ever asking for it.
"You are right, sorry." you reply finally
"We need to stop saying sorry to eachother."
You have known eachother for six years, and before tonight you never acknowledged one another. House rivalry, blood purists; they never let you grow up in peace. You were divided from the moment the Sorting Hat was placed on your heads. Maybe peace was never truly there.
"This is so weird.", you said dragging the last word, "we wouldn't be here having a civilized conversation if the world hadn't gone to shit. That is so weird."
"It is fucked up, actually." he adds, "But it is true."
As time passes, you get closer to eachother, your shoulders lightly brushing now and your feet leaning on him for support. You feel your eyelids growing heavy and you let your head fall back as you close your eyes, just for a minute, you tell yourself.
You hear your name being gently whispered and feel hands through your hair, brushing locks behind your ear.
"Let's head to bed, yeah?", he gently asks and helps you up.
You both clean up and you head upstairs together; whispering goodnight to eachother and being as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake the others.
As you close your bedroom door, you realize you are still wearing Theos coat, you feel a smile forming on your lips; and are unable to stop it.
You see your diary left open and before you let yourself sleep for the night you pick up your pen and finish what you started earlier.
I wish I had talked to them before the War. Maybe we could have been friends. I can feel my eyes growing heavy, so I am going to explain another time.
Goodnight!
Yours,
Tumblr media
A/N:University is coming up and exams are near so I don't know when the next chapters will be up or when I'll have the time to write again. But I will definitely continue this. Until next time 🤍🖤
Also again, sorry for any mistakes, this isn’t proofread and English isn’t my first language
194 notes · View notes