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detectivemarvelingcomics · 3 years

Note

Could you do some hcs for dating the teen titans?

Yes I can!! I just got HBO Max so I’ve been binging both the animated and the live action series haha 😂 Thank you so much for being my first request!

Also I’m guessing you’re referring to the original teen titans, so if you want the new teen titans just shoot me another request!

Dating the Teen Titans Would Include...

No Specified AU

TW: Language

Genre: Fluff

[DC Masterlist]

Word Count: 2.0K (About 0.2K per Titan)

Dick Grayson

You must have an insane amount of patience, truly, to be able to date Dick Grayson

If the joke book he probably carries around isn’t enough, I would’ve been certain that the ego would drive you away but nope you’re still here

And that’s how you both knew that it was true fucking love you’re both inseparable and the Titans know it.

To put things simply... he loves you and the Titans fear you.

While you’re both somewhat easygoing and hospitable, one would do well not to piss off one or the other because you both come as a package deal and you can kick ass when necessary you just choose not to embarrass Dick like that because you could totally outmatch him.

Don’t ask him that though he’d insist that he’d win.

Best not bring up the first time you met or else the Titans would never let him live it down

But in all seriousness, I see the relationship as rather lighthearted and enjoyable, maybe a bit spontaneous too. Want to go to the beach? Done. Want to kick some ass in Gotham? For sure. It’s like a match made in heaven.

Not to mention that the Titans rather look up to you, which is a definite plus. Not just anyone can date the Dick Grayson.

Wally West

As opposed to popular opinion... I’d think that this is a rather slow relationship.

Speedsters are more than just familiar with how life just flashes by so I think Wally would like to enjoy the relationship at a slower pace, he wants it to last as long as possible.

With that said, you’re both menaces. His speed combined with your cleverness? No one is safe and the Titans know it.

The best moment of your relationship, although this is debatable, was when you and Wally successfully turned the Titan tower into an all-out prank minefield. Trash cans were covered with plastic, buckets of water places on doorways, even wardrobes were switched.

And all done in ten seconds, impressive. Nothing quite like starting a war in the Tower then grabbing burgers after, right?

Kind of cheesy but I can see you both having frequent movie nights that differ in genre according to month. You both probably rotate on who chooses the movie too.

Overall I think you both have a lot of fun together, if I were to compare the “vibes” to something, I would say a summer relationship (that obviously lasts longer than just a summer) where everything is just living life as it goes

Nah because like I said before you guys don’t want to rush things, and you’re always there to remind Wally to just slow down every now and then.

I should probably mention that this is a competitive relationship too, before I go, not everything’s a competition but everything’s a competition, you know? It’s a shame that the Titans often get caught in the cross fire though-

Donna Troy

Oh this one’s fun. Donna’s new to this whole “rest of the world” stuff but luckily she has a wonderful partner who’s willing to teach her everything.

A lot of the relationship consists of you explaining things, but it’s kind of endearing despite Donna’s headstrong attitude towards anything

But Donna is also the kind to be open to learning new things, and you’re open to trying new things. It works like clockwork, you’re both young and willing.

Now these “things” can range from baking cookies to extreme mountain climbing so be prepared for anything in this relationship.

Overall I think the Titans see you both as a really cute relationship, one that anyone could be slightly envious of and one that they’re glad that exists

But despite this loving relationship I think you’d both be absolute machines in a battle, I think one thing that is important to Donna is ultimately respect for each other’s abilities, having grown up on Themyscira and all, and maybe that one battle where you absolutely demolished the enemy was when she really caught interest.

Or not. It could’ve also been when you mistakenly ran into one of the glass walls in the tower and she developed a crush over you while you mumbled a series of curses.

This relationship is strongly built on loyalty, so I think you both would be describes as a pair of ride-or-dies who typically tend to lean towards the latter, especially when trying the more extreme things that Donna asked you about.

But overall I think it’s a really sweet relationship with few bumps, they’re still there but I mean that you’re both good at working through them.

Victor Stone

I feel like this relationship is very classical high school romance, you know?

Like walking to class together, holding each other’s books, stuff like that.

But on the other hand I feel like you’re both a very fun couple to be around, like you know how when you’re with some couples it feels like you’re third wheeling? Not these two. You feel like you’re part of the crew

You guys probably switch between fun couple and parent couple every now and then, I can see the Titans relying on both of you a lot for different things.

You and Victor are definitely the type to play games to determine who buys food, like things as simple as rock-paper-scissors to things as complicated as 8-Ball, and so far you’ve been winning at a ratio of 3:1.

Definitely a very trusting relationship, I feel like you both reach that comfortable stage faster than most, but it feels right, you know? I think you’d both understand that relationships go both ways.

There are probably times where you’re both in a teasing mode too, I think, but they’re mostly light hearted pranks, definitely not anything in the realm of what Wally would do

I kinda want to say that you’re a very active couple in that you both like to go to the gym together and idk take hikes together but at the same time I also want to say that you’re both inclined to stay home and play video games so I guess it’s like a 50/50

I can also see Victor being the type to do small acts of generosity as opposed to like buying gifts to show his appreciation for you, like I feel like he’s more inclined to help you with small tasks when he knows you need it, you know? Overall very cute, hehe

Raven (Rachel Roth)

Now this one’s interesting, you and Raven are certainly an interesting duo, but the most interesting thing would likely be how you met. Let’s say it involved a blood sacrifice, a bat, and a very old bicycle.

No you weren’t trying to summon her someone else was you just ended up being at the wrong place at the wrong time anyway moving on

You’re both the perfect example of opposites attract for more reasons than just one.

But what makes it better is that you’re always open and willing to learn and understand many of the things that Raven does and she appreciates it a lot

It goes both ways also! She’s always willing to do whatever you ask her to and you both end up having at least some fun even if it happens to be something she isn’t used to.

Random, but I think a favorite pass time for both of you is simply sitting in her room and reading books, weird, I know, but like there’s something inherently romantic about either of you excitedly showing the other a certain passage you both enjoyed or telling them about your book, it’s just so sweet.

She definitely has a personal bias towards you, obviously, Garfield can say a joke and she’d stare at him with a straight face but you could say the exact same joke probably right after him and she would crack a smile and she probably does that on purpose but it still feels nice

You also may or may not have caught on to her incantations and now you may or may not be able to perform these spells but you haven’t tried because you wouldn’t know how to but it’s just telling of how much time you spent together.

I only mention this because there was an event in which you corrected her incantation and suddenly hell fire appeared which she had to figure out how to get rid of and since then you both mutually agreed to both (a) not tell the Titans and (b) not say incantations out loud

Koriand’r (Starfire)

STOP YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE anyway you’re definitely both kinds to see beauty in everything

Maybe this relationship is rather dangerous considering you’re both curious people and Kori happens to be able to shoot lasers out of her eyes so maybe you should both be just a little more careful

You’re both probably very doting on both each other and the rest of the Titans and although you’re both well intentioned it has become a case of “oh no there’s two of them” but in like a teasing way

I feel like Kori is very open to sharing a lot of aspects about her culture with you, and you have always found Tamaran culture to be beautiful so it fits

Likewise you share a lot of things about your culture too and you both bond over finding ways to combine them together to make a nice fusion of understandings and it’s all a sweet combination

See a big thing about this relationship if that you both put your everything into it, it is an equal push and equal pull kind of thing where you both love each other with everything that you have and it creates this unbreakable bond that even non-supers have come to acknowledge

Though this also results in the both of you frequently being in your own world even when others are around and that’s something you both promised to fix but yeah...

It’s coming around, don’t worry. You’re both making active efforts but sometimes it just slips your mind and whoops

Now this should go without saying but this trust often leads to powerful combinations when in missions, you’re both fiercely loyal to each other and this often plays in overall favor so all is well

Garfield Logan

This is a fun relationship, definitely, and one that’s also very fulfilling.

You’re both definitely an outdoorsy couple, things like hikes, nature walks (which I guess is also a hike but I’ve been told otherwise), trips to the zoo, etc. but this all just builds the relationship

Also a very sweet one! You both have an unlimited amount of energy and love that you’re often expending said energy volunteering somewhere and helping others out

But when it boils down you’re both also very touchy, I think, you both like being together at all times and cuddles are a frequent occurrence but at the will of the other Titans you both do this in privacy

I also feel like this sweetness can also “flip,” so to say. As in if someone messes with either of you in the relationship the other will come running regardless of whether or not they could do anything about it.

To put it short, you both have each other’s back all the time. Literally, like I said you’re both inseparable.

Despite these I think the relationship would actually be rather lowkey, I don’t think he would be the type to constantly showcase the relationship. I think he’d mention it like once to get it out there but after that he wouldn’t flaunt you around.

I just think that Garfield, even with his usual out and about behavior, is rather modest when it comes to this topic because you’re more to him than just someone to show off, you’re someone who’s important to him and overall he just wants you to be comfortable

If there’s one flaw in this relationship it’s that when you have arguments it’s just horrible, but also rather comedic. Neither of you talk to the other but you both end up still being in the same room together subconsciously. It’s kind of awkward but the coincidences are what makes the other Titans laugh and honestly you both make up within, like, a day or something.

#dc #dc x reader #dc headcanons #teen titans #teen titans x reader #teen titans headcanons #dc scenarios #teen titans scenarios #my writings #requests

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aizawaslovebot · 3 years

Text

NOW PLAYING: the ex factor by iwaizumi hajime

—reader pronouns: he/him

—warnings: curse words ; had to be cut into two parts bec i want it that way ><

—summary: desperate times mean desperate measures, and y/n l/n is definitely the embodiment of desperate. eager to make his ex jealous for reasons undisclosed (read as: he's just petty), he asks his long-time best friend, iwaizumi hajime, to pretend as his boyfriend.

—note: the second part will be out in 3 days! VERY SORRY FOR THE VERY LONG WAIT UHU

TAGLIST: OPEN ; send an ask to be added even if you've already sent an ask back then!! because all that i could recall is @ohmygodronnie2020 and @beyond-the-mxxn

<- the sweetheart playlist | part i | part ii ->

Iwaizumi Hajime should’ve trusted his gut when it went crazy at the sight of you, Y/N L/N, whose eyes held a very mischievous glint that Iwa hated. He also should’ve turned you down immediately the moment you opened your mouth. Iwa definitely should’ve reprimanded you for roping him into this stupid plan.

Sadly, all he’s doing is crying over spilt milk.

He could remember it like it was yesterday. Years of dealing with Shittykawa meant that he knew when bullshit was about to happen. He thought going to California meant finally meeting someone who isn't an idiot on the daily. You were his contradiction. You were his idiot— basically like Shittykawa’s younger, much more mischievous brother.

Honestly, did Iwaizumi only attract idiots?

On the days you aren’t going on and on and on about why the government should be overthrown or why the both of you should buy a frog table for your shared dorm, he found you to be a nice guy. The people Iwa has met always had a hidden layer to them and you were one of them. Shittykawa was one too. Though Iwa wishes he didn’t introduce the both of you to each other— you become an unstoppable ball of everything annoying when you talk to each other.

But I digress. Iwa isn’t here to cry over why he only had chaos for best friends. Iwa is here because you, Y/N L/N, while you happened to be Iwa’s contradiction for all things he considered his norm, had asked him a very big favor.

“No,” Iwaizumi grunts, regretting even entertaining the male’s request. He could see your (h/c) hair bob as you groan out of frustration. Unbeknownst to the male, you were mulling over using what has to be Iwa’s biggest weakness: your very adorable puppy eyes.

“Iwa-chaaaan,” You sniff, putting on doe-eyes for Iwa to see, “I really want to make him jealous.”

Iwa sighs, subtly turning away so he didn’t have to see the tear-stained cheeks and the glossy eyes. The poor male was about to speak, pointing out that you had been influenced by Oikawa with the damn nickname, but he was cut off.

“He hurt me a lot, y’know?” You started to well up, for real this time, “I just wanted revenge…”

Iwa sighs again but he noticeably softens, opening his arms to let you cry while he hugs you. As you wept, you accepted his gesture and immediately let yourself be engulfed in your best friend’s arms. “You’ve yet to tell me why you two broke up, dumbass,” Iwa chided, though it was lighthearted.

“Zumi, is this your backhanded way of saying yes?” You asked, but your voice was muffled by his chest.

Iwa sighs for the nth time that day as he finally resigns to his fate, “Yes.”

That encounter was a week ago. You gave Iwaizumi enough time to prepare and regret his life choices. Honestly, he should’ve predicted that his idiot timed things perfectly so that your stupid plan would take place on the university-wide party the following week. Iwa could proudly say that most of his predictions were accurate and on point. Then again, his predictions were futile anyway— the best example could be his judgement on your then-boyfriend, Akuma Azamuku.

The brunette could clearly remember how he was able to discern more than enough red flags from just meeting the god forsaken guy. It was annoying how blind you could be when you’re heads over heels in love with the wrong people. Were you not really able to see how toxic this… Akuma guy is? Terrible name too, might he add. Iwaizumi would rather you date him than this devil spawn.

But he didn’t move a muscle. Iwaizumi didn’t move a muscle especially after that thought emerged from his head. What in Godzilla’s name was he thinking anyway?

Even if he could celebrate his on-point prediction on how much of an ass the spawn of Satan was, he couldn’t exactly bring himself to mock you with an angry ‘’I told you so!” Not when it meant that your damn ex-boyfriend cheated on you, covering it up by saying that he wasn’t actually gay. Not when it meant that you had been used. Not when it meant that you, his idiot, were hurt. His idiot was hurt.

“You’re being a martyr again, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa tutted through the phone, tactlessly commenting once the brunette finished relaying what was going on.

The male snorted, “What are you on, this time, Shittykawa?”

“Don’t turn this on me, you idiot.”

How the hell was Iwaizumi the idiot? No. He’s lived with idiots his entire life but he wasn’t one. If anything, both of his friends were the idiots. Not him.

“Selflessly complying with dear (N/N)’s outrageous request, regardless of how much it hurts you. Tsk, Iwaizumi Hajime. You’re one big idiot,” Oikawa sighed.

Iwaizumi scoffs at his friend’s claim, “Why the hell will helping him out hurt me? Shittykawa, did you leave your single brain cell in Miyagi?” The brunette growls, annoyed at the way Oikawa avoided giving him the straight answer.

“Iwa-chan,” Iwaizumi’s breath hitches as he hears the next words, “you’re in love with (N/N), aren’t you?”

Iwaizumi Hajime was, in fact, an idiot.

He was an idiot for realizing it much later than wanted; for allowing Shittykawa, of all people, to know this one fact before him; and for opening an avenue for bigger wounds because all he wanted was to help his best friend. He probably had to be the biggest idiot among the three— and that’s saying a lot… like more than a lot.

The soon-to-be trainer could hear his pro best friend sigh in response to his stunned silence. Iwa concludes that it was weird to be on the receiving end of a tired sigh but he doesn’t utter a word. Not even after Oikawa begins to speak again. “I can’t even bring myself to tease you tonight… or today… or whatever time it is there, Iwa-chan. What will you do now?”

Iwaizumi wasn’t the type to let himself get involved in petty things like this nor does he let himself go against judgement. That is, if you weren't in the question. The brunette was very sure that you were his contradiction— unknowingly forcing him to go against all the boundaries Iwa had set and done. You, also a trainer in the making, could easily be the death of Iwaizumi Hajime. But if it’s you, then he’d gladly embrace this death.

“I’m going.”

Those two words were a lot harder to say than the tired male liked to admit. So as he ends the dreadful phone call with Oikawa, he secretly hopes that next week will never come.

Even if Iwaizumi tried his hardest to deny, next week actually came. Not that it was a surprise. No one could stop the turning of time, the rotation of the Earth, nor the ticking of the clock. How the hell would he even stop next week from coming? Heck, Iwaizumi couldn’t even stop you from this stupid revenge quest that you had set.

Pretend to be his boyfriend, you said. It would be easy to do anyway, you said. We’ll be in and out in a jiffy, you said.

To hell with all the lies that you had promised. It was beyond Iwaizumi’s skills and strength to pretend to be someone you romantically loved when he actually wanted it to be true. The Aoba Johsai Iwaizumi would’ve dipped; Iwaizumi from last year would’ve never pushed through. But here he is, standing in front of the mirror in your shared dorm, preparing to do what he deemed an impossible feat.

You will always be Iwaizumi Hajime’s contradiction. And at this point, he isn’t sure whether it was a good or a bad thing. All Iwa knows is that this will soon end and like the way next week came, tomorrow will soon be today.

So all Iwaizumi could do is psych himself up to do impossible— the same way he had convinced himself he was an ace in volleyball or the same way he gave himself assurance with his college application— and push through with the plan.

I can do this. I’m Iwaizumi Hajime, former volleyball ace and soon, an athletic trainer. I’ve dealt with Shittykawa all my life. I was able to get into a college in California by myself. This should be easy. I can do this.

“Should I wear this, ‘zumi?” You call out from the bathroom, holding two slightly different tops for Iwa to see. The way the brunette spluttered at the sight of a half-naked you was embarrassing to say the least, but Iwaizumi was thankful that you had been too engrossed to even notice the reddening of his ears. ‘God damn it, Hajime. Half-naked Y/N isn’t new,’ he chastised himself mentally as he coughs. “Use the darker one,” was Iwaizumi’s curt reply.

I can do this.

You should not have lit up at his answer like that. The sight gave Iwaizumi more joy than he liked to admit. Nothing could ever top what you said next though.

I c-can do this...

“Oh! This one matches yours too! We look good together, huh?”

I cannot do this.

“Idiot,” Iwaizumi sighs to mask his flustered state, “just shut up and wear it already.” You only laugh in response, already used to Iwaizumi’s brash way of dealing with things. “Alright, puddin’. Just wait. You can’t rush art,” You reply sarcastically, using the other nickname that Iwa had begun to dread.

Iwa resorts to the comfort of his phone— or rather, he uses the phone to conceal the undying pink on his cheeks so you wouldn’t see. Maybe if he spared a minute before he did so, he would’ve seen that you were equally flustered; seemingly embarrassed to have said what you had in their conversation. But it is what it is, and Iwaizumi has to continue his emotional constipation without ever knowing that had ever happened.

You take Iwa’s hand in yours before you lead Iwa out of your dorm and to wherever the god forsaken party was. “What’s with the skinship?” Iwa asks, though the way he adjusts the grip so it would be comfortable didn’t go unnoticed. Maybe he had started to like the prospect of this whole fake dating fiasco because it let him taste of what could’ve been instead of just wondering how it felt.

“Nothing you’re not used to, puddin’. And uh… uh… this way we could look like an actual couple,” You stammer and avoid eye contact, your hand still in Iwa’s warmth though.

If Iwaizumi hadn’t been too distracted, too haunted by the reminder that this was just pretend, then he would’ve noticed that you had seemed unsure, seemed too engrossed in the feeling of your hands together that you weren’t able to make a great excuse. He once again resigns to what has been destined. “The Y/N L/N I know doesn’t do things half-assed,” Iwa claims as he drops their hands, “By that logic this should be okay right? So people would really think we’re together.”

‘It isn’t okay,’ You croak internally. Iwa decided to go against all things normal by doing this… this very compromising position that ensured the two of you looked like nothing else but a couple. Iwa decided, despite not knowing how much damage it would bring to your poor heart, to wrap an arm around your waist.

Unknown to the soon-to-be trainer, you were just as, if not more, smitten with him as Iwa was with you. You almost revealed the reason behind your bad break-up and even let Iwa see that he had this much of an effect on you. So this, to see Iwa be so into the role of his pretend boyfriend, both flustered and somehow hurt you.

You didn’t know why it hurt though.

“You okay there, dumbass? ” Iwa asks, getting too close to your face and being far too concerned than your heart could’ve handled.

Everything about this was confusing. Both of your minds were having their own storms as the both of you stumbled upon this new, confusing field in between friendship and romance. Closeness with Iwa wasn’t new to you at all. Him lightly calling you dumb wasn’t new at all. So why, in God’s name, did your ribcage feel like breaking apart from the very loud beating of your heart?

If Iwa had to ask himself the same question he asked you, he would’ve gotten a big ‘NO’ from himself. Initiating skinship to this extent made Iwa’s brain malfunction. Not only that, but the feeling of your waist was very much heavenly and mind-boggling. To put a cherry on top of the sundae called “Iwaizumi Hajime’s gay panicking,” the speechless and cute expression you had was too much for his heart.

Turns out that you would answer the same as Iwa, not that the brunette knew though.

This plan of yours started on the right course. Your dick of an ex did cheat on you and you wanted to make him regret ever even thinking of using you as a scapegoat from his problems. It was common sense to ask for the aid of your best friend, right? He, of all people, would know you and understand you best. So when did your fake dating extravaganza take its turn? At what point did this plan converge into something different?

In other words, did you still want to make your ex jealous? Or did you want to see how it would feel to date your best friend?

Time did not let you answer the many questions that formed in your pretty head. Before either of you knew it, you’ve arrived at the party.

You turn to look at Iwa, who was somehow already gazing at you with that intense fire in his eyes, and nod.

It’s showtime.

—reblogging helps a lot !! thank you for reading !!

#the sweetheart playlist #iwaizumi hajime x male reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwa x you #iwa x reader #fluff #fake dating au #friends to lovers trope #male reader #x male reader

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

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In the Arms of the Anus

Fandom: Spider-Man, Thor Pairing: Roger Harrington/Grandmaster Rating: T Word Count: 8883

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @spiderman-homecomeme!!!

Summary: While people all over the world are finding their soulmates, Roger Harrington can barely find time to grab a sandwich. Clumsy, anxious, and stagnating in a mediocre marriage, it's a miracle that he still believes in love.

Today's the day the universe rewards that belief.

Three things about Roger Harrington: he’d just tripped on the sidewalk, he worried daily that he was developing a bald spot, and, at the age of 36, he felt he still believed in love as strongly as did the little girl in his building who’d made all the residents Valentine’s Day cards the year before.

The cards—which Roger had found endearing while his wife had been baffled to the point of annoyance—had been wedged into everyone’s mailbox sometime on the afternoon of last May 19th, and maybe that was why he thought of them today, exactly a year later.

It was helpful, he found, to consider love in markers of time passing, or just numbers. The anniversary of those Valentine’s cards would always be 271 days early, leap year or not. Roger had been married twice, longer the second time. He had zero children, and that was alright with him because he wasn’t totally sure that he did want kids and, anyway, he was too profoundly stressed about the welfare of the teenagers he taught at Midtown to comfortably imagine himself as a fulltime parent.

His wife was cool. Significantly cooler than he was. She drove out of the city to hike every other weekend (he had never joined her and hoped to never be called upon for woodsy companionship), had once performed an emergency tracheotomy on a friend at a dinner party, and had a tattoo on her hip that predated their relationship, which made it consequently, eternally, enigmatic, no matter how many times she told the objectively trite story of its acquisition. Also, she was a casual shoplifter, which made him very, very nervous in a way that he found difficult to differentiate from how he felt when he was turned on.

He was the kind of person who consistently forgot to take his glasses off before stepping into the shower. She was the kind of person who would run into and recognize a famous race car driver at Whole Foods (that had happened) or fake her own death (that had not happened—knock on wood!). Essentially, what and who his second wife was was the natural successor to his first wife (the reckless young bride to his insomniac young groom), who had in turn been the natural successor to the only other romantic encounter of his life worth mentioning: a kiss on the cheek at a birthday party on the day the Berlin Wall fell. Roger had been seven.

So his romantic history was speckled and, in two out of three cases, spoke a little too loudly of a need for legally-recognized codependence. So he didn’t feel like a man anyone would ever get a tattoo in honour of. So his wife had been a little unkind in the long pause before her negative when he’d asked her if she thought he was getting a bald spot. Roger still felt that love was going to happen for him. Hopefully sustained in his current marriage, but if not, there was always what Julius Dell had taken to (highly unscientifically) calling the Love Wave.

If Roger decided to be really delusional, he could pretend that the Love Wave was to blame for his stumble over uneven concrete on his way to grab lunch. That he was finally feeling its cosmic tug. Not that he would be the last to sense it—the inexplicable force that had lately begun guiding people the world over to their new partners—but every day that he didn’t, he feared his wife would feel it first and go careening out of their life together in a Thelma and Louise-style launch that somehow left her intact and him feeling like he’d plummeted to his death at the bottom of a canyon. Sometimes, when he thought about it, he imagined feeling that impulse to go to this destined soulmate and pictured it leading him home. Not in some metaphorical way, but literally home, to the apartment he shared with his wife, to find her arriving at the same time, the two of them matched up, the universe endorsing their marriage.

The reality was that he was a man with clumsy feet (and knees and elbows) who’d forgotten to pack himself a lunch and had just enough self-awareness (though probably not dignity) not to believe that eating in the cafeteria with his students was something he would be able to socially recover from.

He thought about a poorly-cut-out pink heart glued to a fold of red craft paper. He went to buy a sandwich.

At the deli, Roger waited in line and didn’t so much allow his mind to wander—like a dog off-leash in a dog park—as feel his mind jerk insistently away—like a dog on-leash, trying to snap a dropped slice of pizza off the sidewalk. He was violently not present as his thoughts migrated from Valentine’s Day cards to lesson plans to the anxiety he always felt over the fact of never seeming to have enough power to go with the tremendous sense of responsibility he felt for all situations in which he was even remotely involved. He would have, should have, continued to shuffle vacantly forward in line, except that the man ahead of him grumbled something that drew his focus.

What he grumbled was: “Even the Sorcerer Supreme should be able to spare a minute to decide what kind of sandwich he wants.”

Now, Roger Harrington was a man of science, but he was also a man who had previously enjoyed a close friendship with the Hulk (and if anyone challenged him on specific parameters within that assertion, Roger knew that he would cry). Aliens swarmed the sky like clouds of bees. There were compilation videos of Spider-Man nearly getting hit by city buses that could’ve been designed expressly to see how hard Roger could flinch. For a clumsy man with the unathletic, knock-kneed gait of Pippi Longstocking, Roger did his best to roll with the supernatural punches. Hey, this was how science worked too: just because there wasn’t a precedent yet didn’t mean there never would be. Just because he couldn’t explain something didn’t mean no one could. Sorcerers? Alright. There could be sorcerers.

“Sorcerers?” Roger blurted to the man, overeager to expel the word.

All other words had fled to the back of his mind, twitching in an agitated cluster, leaving just the one to be snatched frantically from the surface. Like fishing. (Roger had never been fishing. One of his greatest fears was having a live fish somehow jump into his shoe and stepping on it by accident.)

“Uhhh,” the man droned. He looked uneasy. If Roger knew how to make his eyes a little less wide in situations like these, he would’ve done it.

“No, yeah, sorcerers, sure,” Roger swiftly backpedaled. “I’m a teacher.”

As if being a teacher equaled knowledge of sorcerers. As if that were a normal unit of the high school curriculum. Roger’s understanding of sorcerers began and ended with Mickey Mouse in a blue wizard’s hat. He wondered if that was sort of the standard look.

The man did not appear reassured. Roger thrust his hand forward.

“Roger Harrington, Midtown Tech.”

Face still wary, his deli companion shook hands.

“Wong.”

“So, this sorcerer of yours didn’t pick a sandwich?” The line shuffled forward and, now in reach of the long glass case of food, Roger attempted to lean his elbow casually against it, misjudged the distance, and jerked back upright again before he could fall over.

“No… You heard that part too?”

“If I could hear the part about the sorcerer, why wouldn’t I be able to hear the rest?”

“I think most people would’ve been so fixated on the sorcerer thing that they wouldn’t really absorb the part about the sandwich.”

“Just got sandwiches on the brain, I guess,” Roger said.

God, if Wong knew a sorcerer, odds were that he was a sorcerer too. (Roger based this on being a teacher with almost exclusively teacher friends and acquaintances.) He was making it sound like he cared more about sandwiches, he knew he was. He stared silently at Wong for a few painful seconds and wondered if the man could tell that he had worked for a sandwich shop as a teenager—the role of wearing a full-body sandwich costume and standing on the sidewalk, trying to attract people into the shop.

But Wong surprised him by nodding.

“You could get one of everything,” Roger heard himself suggest.

He was not typically one to make suggestions, but rather one to panic when other people did and he was in the position of having to choose between them. He could never decide on a restaurant for he and his wife’s now few-and-far-between date nights, or provide straightforward feedback when she asked for his opinion on her clothing choices… which movie they should see… what they should buy for her friend’s sister’s housewarming gift...

Oh god, she was probably going to fake her own death and his biggest anxiety was knowing that someone would ask him to choose the casket!

“I have like…” Wong jingled his pockets and extracted a fistful of coins that, when he opened his hand, Roger saw belonged to several different currencies. “…six bucks.”

Like a mirror with a delay, Roger patted his own pockets to locate his wallet. He flipped it open to reveal something promising and terrifying: he’d forgotten to return the school credit card after the last field trip he’d chaperoned. He shouldn’t, but… sorcerer.

“I think this’ll cover it,” Roger said. “It’s for emergency expenses.”

“Like lunch?” Wong asked doubtfully.

“I could be very hungry.”

“They sell seventeen different types of sandwiches here.”

“I could be very, very hungry.”

Wong shrugged in evident acquiescence and Roger marvelled that it was so simple for him to accept this act of generosity. Roger couldn’t recall the last time someone had been as generous towards him. Wait, yes he could. The Valentine’s Day card. Well, handing over a credit card that wasn’t technically his didn’t exactly equate to presenting his ticket at the Love Wave gates (not that there were such things—not that he’d know), but he was hoping to trade this generosity up for a different magical experience in the near future.

When they reached the front of the line for service, Roger ordered a total of eighteen sandwiches. (And received an undisguised groan of complaint from the people still in line behind himself and Wong.) While they waited, Roger buzzed like the posterchild for over-caffeination, doing his best not to let his excitement translate into erratic movements.

Of course, once the sandwiches were presented and paid for, it only made sense for Roger to help Wong carry them all. His own ham-and-Swiss was stuffed into one of the three bags and they were all bulging, threatening to spill. If one of them ripped on Wong’s journey back to wherever he had to take them, who would be there to gather the sandwiches into their arms so that Wong wouldn’t have to leave them on the ground? Roger was clearly the best (only) person for the job.

And if they talked on the way? That would be natural. If Wong stared at him with abrupt, unyielding suspicion the instant Roger attempted to negotiate a visit with this ‘Sorcerer Supreme’ in exchange for buying his lunch? Yeah. Yeah that suspicion would be fair.

“Not for my sake!” Roger defended as Wong blinked back at him. “For the kids!”

“The Sorcerer Supreme isn’t a birthday party magician.”

“No, I would never imply that! These are bright kids. They’d be there to learn, respectfully. They’ve had their own traumatic encounter with Spider-Man already so there wouldn’t be any clambering to meet another person with superhuman powers!”

“What did Spider-Man do to traumatize them?”

Wong looked interested now, in an entertained sort of way. Meanwhile, Roger was having a flashback of his life flashing before his eyes inside the Washington Monument.

“Actually, he saved us,” Roger explained. “That’s not the point. It would be purely educational. You and the Sorcerer Supreme would call the shots. As long as it wasn’t anything dangerous.”

“Dangerous? We would never put children at risk!”

Roger was about to clarify that he hadn’t meant to imply that they would when he realized Wong seemed to be taking this as a reason to prove himself, or to make the other sorcerer prove what he’d just said.

“I would hope not,” Roger said carefully, “because not all of the children I’ve taken on field trips have come back alive and that haunts me.”

“Well, what haunts me is everything I’ve seen and learned from in order to become someone who could now guarantee a safe field trip environment.”

“Well, that would be great.”

“Well, good,” Wong concluded.

Roger looked down at the bag he was holding as he dug out his sandwich. His wrist twisted and he caught the time on his watch. Oh wow, oh no, his lunch break was almost over.

“Ok, deal,” he said quickly. “We’ll come by next Tuesday!”

“I’ll be out here to let you in!” Wong agreed with a parting wave.

Roger took off running in the direction of Midtown and when that got too awful, he wheezed like an asthmatic and waited at the closest bus stop.

—

Roger had expected Principal Morita to say there was no room in their budget for this trip. That they were nearing the end of the school year, that parents and guardians would be reluctant to sign another form for an excursion that Roger could only give a vague, stammering explanation of. At the very least, he’d anticipated the journey via school bus in lurching, stop-and-start traffic to take so long that the kids would revolt; Flash Thompson would lead the complaints that they could’ve walked to their destination faster than the ride took and Roger would feel the primal horror of a confrontation with a self-possessed teenager who wielded the kind of peer influence Roger could only have dreamed of when he’d been Flash’s age.

But no.

Highly improbably (Roger didn’t like to consider it miraculous), things went smoothly. The trip cleared the budget assessment on zero notice because, besides renting the single bus to transport the students, their outing didn’t actually have any costs. Permission slips came back signed. Traffic was light. And dear, dear Flash—who usually gave Roger so much anxiety—slapped the hand Roger raised to shield his eyes from the sun as his students disembarked from the bus, rewarding him with a surprise high-five for getting them out of the classroom on a Tuesday afternoon. It almost knocked Roger’s glasses off.

They were ushered inside by Wong, who was now laying the mystical solemnity on pretty thick. He certainly wasn’t talking about sandwiches or complaining about the Supreme Sorcerer under his breath.

Before Roger could feel too good about himself though, he realized he’d had time to run through his headcount of the students three times without interruption. Normally, something would happen partway through his first count and he’d be uneasy for the rest of the day, sure that one of the kids had fallen down a manhole or been stampeded by a dog-walker’s unruly canine swarm. The universe shoved teenagers into the path of bike couriers with one hand and paired up soulmates with the other. That was just how things went! However, inside this house (or, no, Sanctum, Wong had called it), the air was still and quiet.

“Do you think he’s gonna make himself appear out of thin air?” Roger heard Ned ask at a whisper. “Or out of a wardrobe, or a trapdoor, or one of those boxes people get in to get sawed in half?”

“Those are cheap tricks,” Wong said loudly. He stared unsympathetically at Roger’s motley group, hand closed around his opposite wrist to maintain a serious pose. “The man you’ll be meeting shortly has capabilities that far outstrip those of the kind of magician-for-hire you’d find in a phonebook.”

From behind him, Roger heard Peter ask Ned what a phonebook was.

“What kind of capabilities then?” Flash demanded.

Roger sighed and was turning to reprimand his student when Wong said, “Like this!”

The man faked a sneeze of horrific volume and range, doubling over and cupping his hand around his mouth and nose. When he straightened up and presented his open palm, there was a raspberry sitting in it.

Roger closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself and his teaching career played on a fast-forwarded film reel behind his lids. The Sorcerer Supreme was a no-show; all Roger had accomplished was taking the kids to a weird building to witness a man pretend to sneeze out a raspberry. Midtown Tech was going to fire him. His wife would recognize his unemployment as a reason to leave him. Depressingly, Roger was thinking about how that would almost be a relief—an end to his incessant worrying that they were really kind of a mismatch—and he was thinking it while he blankly watched Wong eat the raspberry he’d just feigned dislodging from his nasal cavity.

He was really unprepared for a different man to come sweeping down the stairs, motion with his hand, and have a red sheet come whizzing down after him to settle itself on his shoulders. Roger blinked. He heard the mixed noises of fright and appreciation from his students.

Then Flash piped up with, “That’s just a trick. It’s wires or something.”

Roger backed into the cluster of his charges and, without taking his eyes off the obvious Magical Guy in front of him, reached over and placed his hand across Flash’s mouth.

Unfortunately, his censorship seemed to be too late. The Sorcerer’s narrowed eyes zoned in on Flash.

“Oh yeah? How ’bout this? Is this just a trick?”

Fingers splayed, the man moved his hands in a precise, practiced way and a window opened up in the middle of the room. No, not a window, but Roger was having a tough time wrapping his head around it. What this non-window showed was something that wasn’t the room, that wasn’t a view of the street, that wasn’t anyplace in New York, if he had to guess.

“You can’t just do it like that,” Wong said wearily. Roger felt himself and his students look from one of the men to the other as though watching a tennis match. “There should be a little more finesse.”

“Look,” the Sorcerer told him. “You don’t get to spring this on me and then expect me to ham it up for the kids. This isn’t a David Blaine show.”

“Maybe you should watch one. You might learn something about showmanship.”

“So, it’s fake, right?” Flash checked.

Dammit, Roger had dropped his hand, distracted as he tried to make out what he was seeing through what he was becoming increasingly comfortable with calling a ‘magic portal’ in his thoughts. He scrambled to take hold of Flash’s shoulder—yanking him back would be bad, but dealing with the fallout of him pissing off somebody who could make magic portals would be much worse—but Flash dodged him, swaggering forward to inspect the Sorcerer’s work.

“What is it? Mirrors? Greenscreen? You buy your tech from Stark?”

“Stark?” the Sorcerer spat out derisively.

Overcome with the terrible feeling that he was about to find out what it looked like when a wizard put a curse on a child, Roger sprang forward. As he did, three things happened: the Sorcerer rotated his wrist slightly, the scene on the other side of the portal changed, and Flash turned to the side.

Without a student to grab onto and pull to safety, Roger’s momentum sent him hurtling through the gateway currently connecting Midtown to parts unknown.

Of all the times to trip, he thought.

—

The world was bright and fast and bad. Actually, Roger was almost positive that what he was seeing wasn’t the world at all, but he couldn’t put a name to where he was any more than he could think of better adjectives to describe it. Unless the Sorcerer Supreme owned a magical slip ’n’ slide that operated at speeds designed to train prospective astronauts for space travel, Roger was no longer in his building.

The colour of the tunnel of light surrounding him turned from something like the intestinal track of a unicorn who ate lightning and nebulas to a dangerous, broiling red. Roger kept waiting for his skin to bubble, his face to melt off. Maybe he was the fabled frog in the pot of boiling water and had failed to notice the heat steadily increasing. Because he didn’t feel hot. He couldn’t tell whether or not he felt cold either and before he could work it out, he finally landed.

It was rough.

He curled his arms up around his head, protecting his face. He hit and tumbled, hit and tumbled, banging his shins and elbows, setting off a series of metallic clangs and thwumps like his body was playing drums made of the contents of somebody’s recycling bin. Roger could see—once, shaking, he was able to lower his arms and open his eyes—that his imagination hadn’t been far from the mark: he was lying in a heap of trash.

Trembling like a baby deer, he got to his feet and assessed his surroundings. There were piles everywhere. Piles of stuff. Roger could identify some of the battered objects, but most were utterly alien to him. This was like the time he’d found his wife’s sex toys all over again.

“Hello?” he called out, because he seemed to be alone. “Hel—”

His throat closed off abruptly when he swiveled in place and noticed the sky. His mouth fell open. Was that what he had just come through? That furious-looking, billowing, volcanic, enormous… disturbance? Weather pattern? Entrance to hell, if hell were a mountain of trash?

Oh man. Where was Spider-Man this time? Roger didn’t know which would come first, but if something distinctly reassuring didn’t happen in the next 30 seconds, he was going to either burst into tears or pee his pants. His cool wife was going to be so bummed to have to declare him dead instead of faking her own death. And his students would be traumatized, having just witnessed their teacher disappear before their eyes. He spent a frantic 17 of his 30 seconds wondering if this were Jumanji and he’d started a game without realizing it; being sucked into a board game was another of his greatest fears, ever since he’d watched the chilling horror film Jumanji in his teens.

“Hello?” Roger croaked a final time.

Some other scientist—a Tony Stark type—would thrive in this scenario, Roger knew. They would scavenge the surrounding mounds of metal, collecting and assembling pieces into some sort of technology that would either get them home or enable communication with a rescue team. Would there be a rescue team for Roger Harrington? Would anyone even try to get him back?

The cry/pee conundrum was looking more like cry with each passing second until suddenly, amongst the broken things Roger was aggrieved to consider the lone sentinels of his demise, some kind of spacecraft touched down. Based on his recent luck, whoever was at the helm was likely here to kill him, but he immediately elected to throw himself on their mercy, whether that meant rescue or just a swifter snuffing out of his life than he would otherwise experience on this sad island of garbage as he died from dehydration, starvation, and exposure to that infernal gateway in the sky.

He mouthed the word “help” more than said it as he staggered forward on legs he could hardly feel. A door in the side of the spacecraft slid smoothly open and party music blared out. Roger flinched back as though he had not heard the sounds of civilization in years.

A woman exited the craft. She wore an expression about as kind as the murderous upside-down mushroom cloud in the sky and when their eyes met, she barked, “Back!”

Roger executed an awkward reverse lunge, pleading hands raised. Ok, now that his time had come, he didn’t want a quick death. Put out of his misery? No, he would learn to live with his misery, the way he’d learned to live with his college roommates, or his wife’s collection of handmade bowls! With food and water to sustain him, he was suddenly confident that he could be successfully miserable for years if this intimidating woman would just leave him to his own pathetic devices.

But then, like a visitation from a tan, eye-liner-wearing angel of indeterminate age, a man in gold robes emerged from the vessel. He beamed like he had always been beaming, and always would be.

Just like that, Roger Harrington got it. He got what Hot Chocolate meant when they sang that they believed in miracles. He got the meaning of Kylie Jenner’s year of realizing stuff. He got why a child would send out Valentine’s Day cards in May and why his wife was so dedicated to her hiking group and why he was here.

“Now, what did I say about that before we left?” the angel seemed to be asking his companion, though he’d locked his eyes on Roger. “Did I say to harass our visitor or did I say to be nice?”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Roger, which he felt more than saw; it was possible that he was crying after all. Tears of joy.

“Harass,” she answered flatly.

The angel chuckled.

“You know, I do like having you around. Before you, I said to myself, ‘Next time, get an enforcer with a sense of humour.’” He sighed as his laughter dwindled. “But you can, uh, skedaddle back onto the ship now. That’ll be all.”

“What if you want to melt him?” she queried.

That was enough to tear Roger’s gaze away from the man and send it zipping nervously to the threatening almost-smile the woman was now directing his way. He’d preferred the murder face.

“Melt him!” the angel said, in a tone that implied her suggestion had been ridiculous. (Roger relaxed. A little.) “Topaz, don’t you realize who this is? Don’t you know?”

She shrugged.

“Trash.”

“No, he’s not trash! Do you think I would’ve left the Grand Arena to retrieve a new gladiator by hand? All those Scrappers don’t do my bidding just so I can dig through the garbage looking for fresh challengers for my champion! I wouldn’t even assign Scrapper 142 this task, and you know she’s my favourite!”

When the woman only grumbled, the man pressed, “You have an unbelievable poker face. Do you really not know why I flew all the way out here for this guy?”

“I’m his soulmate,” Roger blurted, because that was the one thing he did know.

He had no idea what a Scrapper was, or whether the man in front of him was more or less important than the ‘champion’ he’d mentioned, or how his homicidal sidekick planned to melt Roger, but he understood what was happening here. Forget the Love Wave—what had come for him had yanked him violently across solar systems, maybe galaxies. He’d been sucked under by the Love Riptide.

The angel pointed at him and proudly proclaimed, “Correctamundo!”

Then he strode forward and folded Roger into a hug. Roger thought this must be what it was like to be a piece of antique furniture, tenderly wrapped in gold leaf.

“I’m the Grandmaster,” he said.

“Roger Harrington,” Roger offered, feeling that his life was entirely surreal as he cautiously returned the hug.

“As soon as I felt you land on my humble little planet here, I came looking. My orgy guests were disappointed, naturally, but I had to put my interests first. What was I, elected? If they wanted a leader who would pretend to care about everyone equally, they should have organized themselves into a viable political party capable of rivalling my dictatorship, am I right?” He drew back slightly and laughed. “You should see your face! I’m kidding. I would’ve had anyone involved in such a thing put to death. Don’t you worry, Hairball.”

Roger cleared his throat. He’d learned so much in the last few sentences alone. Death. Dictator. Orgy. Any one of those things was a lot to confront and yet… he was calmed by the Grandmaster’s presence. He was alive and unmelted. He’d managed to find his soulmate—a man he’d been almost certain to never meet as things stood with Earth’s individually-impressive but cosmically-insignificant progress with space travel. At long last, the universe had smiled on Roger Harrington.

“Just Roger is good,” he said. If last names ever came up again, he would tactfully correct his soulmate, but with a name like ‘the Grandmaster,’ he doubted they ever would.

“Roger. Anything you say.” Gripping Roger’s shoulders, the Grandmaster leaned in and planted a sound kiss on his forehead with a loud, “Mmmwah!”

He asked Roger if he would like to go aboard his ship, apologizing that it wasn’t the one where he’d just been having the orgy and appearing to check Roger’s face for disappointment. Roger didn’t know what the Grandmaster saw in his expression, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Inside the spaceship, Roger looked around with huge eyes. He hadn’t felt this kind of wonder in a room jammed with so much beyond his understanding since the first time his mom had taken him to the New York Hall of Science as a kid. Everything was bright and white and immaculately clean, and Roger could concentrate on all of it because the Grandmaster had Topaz drop the volume of his party playlist until it was just a low pulse of background noise. Seemingly amused by his awe, the Grandmaster allowed him a peek at the controls before gently herding him into a chamber with seating arranged for socializing. A pneumatic hiss sealed them safely inside and away from the woman’s scowl.

“I really just wanna sit here and, uh, just look atcha, but that look on your face tells me you’ve got about a million questions.”

The Grandmaster settled back into the bench seating, resting his long arms along the top of the seat. Across from him, Roger fidgeted, experiencing sensory overload. Soulmate. Spaceship. Alien planet. He found it hard to decide what to ask first. Was that even polite? Was the Grandmaster just saying that Roger could ask questions when he really wanted Roger to say or do something else? There was an awfully flirtatious look in his eye, the likes of which Roger hadn’t seen directed towards himself in several years.

“What is this place?” Roger asked before he could stop himself. “Where am I?”

“Oh! This is Sakaar! Are you saying you didn’t come here on purpose? I figured you weren’t aiming for a pile of trash, but you really didn’t know where you were going at all?”

Roger shook his head so hard that he had to nudge his slipping glasses back up his nose.

“It was an accident. I fell through a wizard’s—uh, I mean, a sorcerer’s—magic portal. That kind of clumsiness must sound pretty farfetched to someone who’s so obviously…” Roger motioned spastically towards his soulmate, the dictator, with both hands. “…in control of their life.”

The Grandmaster laughed, transparently pleased and preening.

“Oh, Roger, you flatter me.”

He stretched out his leg to playfully tap his shoe (gold) against Roger’s (plain, brown, frayed shoelace). Roger jumped, giddy from an alteration in sea level, possibly, plus life-changing events.

“But it really isn’t so uncommon for people, beings, things… to end up here without meaning to,” the Grandmaster went on. “A lot of junk passes through the Anus. Not that you’re junk, obviously.”

With a winning smile, Roger’s soulmate leaned forward and patted him on the knee. He was a touchy-feely guy, it seemed, and it made Roger cognizant of how very lonely he’d been in his marriage, in the last year especially. How skittish around strangers, how unaffectionate with his friends. This was what he needed, and the universe had understood that.

It took his brain a few seconds to catch up with what his soulmate had said, distracted by the comfort he was taking in his easy warmth.

“The Anus?” Roger asked in a choked voice.

“The Devil’s Anus, to be exact. That enormous, horrifying wormhole out there in the sky!” the Grandmaster explained, gleeful. “Best I can guess, it acts as a funnel for accidental travelers, like yourself. And boy, are we ever grateful for that thing. I’ve never had to post any ‘Help Wanted’ flyers, I’ll tell ya that. We need more people serving drinks? Boom. More entertainers? Boom. More lubricators for the orgies? Boom, the Anus provides, baby.”

Roger didn’t inquire what the duties of a person with the job title ‘orgy lubricator’ entailed; it seemed sleazily self-explanatory. He just nodded.

“And now,” his perfect, golden match continued, “the portal brings me my soulmate. I love that thing. It’s really somethin’, huh?”

“It’s really something,” Roger agreed. “Really, really something.”

“You’re looking just a little stunned there, Rodge. Can I offer you something to eat? A drink? I promise, I’m usually a much better host. I feel like I’m positively, uh, bumbling right now.” He beamed.

This man was so many things at once—possibly too many—but bumbling was so far from being one of them that Roger actually laughed weaky in his state of happy, semi-delirium. He accepted the cold glass that was pressed into his hand, the brush of the Grandmaster’s warm palm across his forehead. He had moved to sit right next to Roger.

“You can get used to this place at your own pace, within reason.” His soulmate chuckled. “Heck, we can stay right here a day or two. My plans are cancelled, and when I stop, the world stops. That’s how it is, being the Grandmaster, and that’s how it’s gonna be for you too. You can give all your worries a big, wet kiss goodbye, my love. You’re living a life of luxury now. A court of sycophants, fights to the death in the evening, orgies on a lazy afternoon. I’m talkin’ a life of pure class—”

“Class!”

“Yeah, baby, that’s what I said.” The Grandmaster was wearing a languid smile as he traced the back of his fingers along Roger’s jaw.

But Roger was suddenly too alert to be lulled by welcome caresses and delicious, exotic beverages.

“I was teaching a class before I fell through the portal,” he said. “I’m a teacher. My students are probably terrified. Some of them might be messed up for life after watching me disappear right in front of them. What have I done…”

“So you gave them a cool story to tell their friends! You don’t need to think about that anymore. Now that you’re living here—”

“I can’t live here!” Roger said, seizing the Grandmaster’s hands in his as he tried desperately to explain. “I have responsibilities as an educator! Jesus Christ, I’m married!”

“Roger. Rodge. Rodge. Hey,” his soulmate said, finally disrupting Roger’s spiral of panic. “That’s all in the past. Do you know how many creatures from just, uh, every darn corner of the universe I’ve made slaughter each other for my entertainment? Thousands, Roger, ok? Thousands. And it’s taught me oodles about life. What I’ve learned is that love is the only thing that matters. What all of those poor bastards scream for in the end is their mom, their partner, their best friend. Now, that doesn’t help them, but it helps us. It helps us understand that we’ve done it—we’ve achieved the one thing in our lives that was worth a damn to achieve. I’m not gonna, gonna now be parted from you, sweetheart. You are the point of me.”

Roger felt himself growing teary at the speech. Yes, this had been a whirlwind—they’d met no more than 15 minutes ago—but he was feeling something just as deep as the love the Grandmaster described. It was a fantasy in the best way, the life his soulmate pictured for them (most of it… maybe not the part about slaughter). But it was a fantasy in the worst way too, something so impossible that Roger felt sick for getting as attached to this man as he already had.

“I can’t,” he said softly. He let his head hang down, solaced when the Grandmaster guided it onto his shoulder and wrapped a protective arm around him.

“Can’t you? For me? Roger, if I put you on a ship and send you back through the Anus, we may never meet again.”

Roger squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to be selfish, but there were people he couldn’t leave in the lurch. People who maybe didn’t care about him in a way that was equal to how he cared about them, but that was how any kind of relationship was, apart from soulmates. There were imbalances. He knew he might not be the most brilliant scientist, the most inspirational teacher, the husband a woman would prefer over the outdoorsy hunk in her hiking group, but he knew who he was: he was someone who couldn’t just walk away.

“We’ll be together again,” Roger said, clutching the Grandmaster’s robes. “After.”

Though he didn’t yet know what ‘after’ would mean.

—

It wasn’t as unexpected as it could have been—Roger had always had a feeling he’d die on a school bus.

The difference between his fears and reality was that he wasn’t departing this world in a fiery crash or zooming out of control between the steel trusses and into the East River. There was confusion, there was chaos, there were screams and the violent honking of horns, but there were elements he couldn’t have predicted. Primarily, the giant alien spacecraft hovering over the city. The ship immediately moved into first place of the most ominous rings in his life (he and his wife were not in a good place). Since its sighting, things had quickly spiraled out of control. Julius had radioed Roger from the other bus of students they were chaperoning to MoMA to report that Ned Leeds had ‘flipped his shit’ and Peter Parker was currently missing. Roger had nearly passed out. The only thing that had kept him conscious was his jittery concern for the rest of his students.

At Midtown Tech, they had drills for almost every eventuality. As of 2012, hostile outer space invasion was actually part of their repertoire, but it had always been assumed they would be at school when it happened, not out on a field trip. The most Roger had been able to think to do was get the kids to a secure location. Which meant getting the buses to a secure location. But the buses were on the bridge, and all over the bridge drivers were panicking, mindlessly stomping on the gas and attempting to swerve around the rest of the vehicles. Above the blood rushing in his ears, he’d heard crash after crash, until their bus was hemmed in and, through the smoking, crumpled hoods of their fellow commuters, the alien ship hung stationary in the sky. Disturbingly tranquil as New York City went to pieces to the tune of apocalyptic dissonance just below.

In the end, the spaceship hadn’t stayed put, but Roger had. The lanes around them were crowded with smashed cars. Glass from shattered windshields glittered on the pavement. Still, more vehicles surged forward as drivers attempted to use the bridge to flee the city; this wasn’t NYC’s first alien rodeo. He hadn’t attempted to force any of his students to remain on the bus—they were some of the smartest and the best of their generation, and he trusted their survival instincts far more than his own—but he did direct the ones who fled to first climb up onto the roof of the bus instead of dropping directly down onto the street and risking injury. Yes, he worried about minor cuts and bruises. Even now.

He thought that Flash was staying with him, and was touched. But then he realized Flash was just gripping his shoulder for leverage as he jumped and grabbed for the emergency roof hatch with his free hand. Roger knew the boy was somewhat neglected by his parents, and so, for the first time, he was happy go hear ‘Hotline Bling.’ It was Flash’s ringtone and it played incessantly as his phone rang and rang until the song, and the sound of Flash running, faded into the distance. Somebody wanted to see that he was safe. Somebody cared about him.

Alone, Roger hunkered down between the seats, knees bent in front of him. He scraped one hand anxiously through his hair and gripped his phone in the other.

He should call his wife. He knew he should. Only, he was afraid that she either wouldn’t pick up or she’d answer and be with the guy from her hiking group. Roger wasn’t even upset; he was glad she had someone, if this was it.

Ever since he’d returned from Sakaar, he’d been different, he was aware that he had. In the past, his wife had been largely responsible for the sundering of their marriage, but Roger knew that he was now pulling away too. It had begun inside him—the tear. He wanted to be with two people for two different reasons. In two places, on two worlds. Commitment clashed with longing. Logical rightness fought emotional rightness. He’d been weak, persuading himself daily to tough it out with his wife (even as he slept on the couch every night because lying beside her made him unhappy), when, for once in his damn life, he wanted to be fulfilled. Somewhere out in the stars, there was a man with blue eyeliner and an entire planet at his capricious command and he was the person for Roger.

If only, he thought, picturing the face he shouldn’t have been able to recall so clearly for the brevity of their encounter months ago. Roger shut his eyes to better remember the Grandmaster, and so he wouldn’t have to see his phone clatter to the bus’s dirty floor when the hand that held it turned to dust.

—

As with his life on regular, non-apocalypse days, not much happened to Roger. Despite his paralyzing breakdown on a school bus, he wasn’t among the billions scattered to the wind like sentient dandruff. He picked himself up and went home. Sure, he was shivering almost out of his skin from the shock, but he didn’t collapse into wracking, snotty sobs until he was safely in his living room, listening to his neighbours’ wails through the condo’s walls.

Roger’s wife wasn’t there, didn’t answer when he called her, and, three weeks later, still hadn’t made contact. It took another two months to hold her wake; the funeral business was booming. Never had so many words been spoken over so many vacant graves. Some members of his wife’s hiking group attended, some had even helped him select the right music and flowers beforehand. They knew her preferences. It felt surreal to be burying a person he couldn’t prove—in any meaningful way—that he’d really known.

With a queasy sense of being very lucky, he accepted that, apart from his marital status, his life hadn’t been upended. His windows weren’t broken, his car wasn’t stolen, the few family members he was out of touch with anyway had also survived. He went back to work before anybody called him in. There weren’t any students at first, just the echo of Roger’s clumsy footsteps tripping over the rug in the staffroom, half-solved equations on the whiteboards in the math classrooms, and the unholy stench of unwashed pinnies when he poked his head into the gym storage room to see if Coach Wilson was around. One day, Roger tipped back in the chair at the front of his own empty classroom and spotted a gigantic cobweb in the corner of the ceiling. It made him think of Spider-Man. He guessed that guy was gone too.

The most important thing for keeping sane was establishing a regimen. Work was a big part of that, but Roger also traveled daily into Manhattan to visit the Sorcerer’s place. It became a kind of pilgrimage. Early on, Wong would come out to say hello, but it was eventually less about commiseration and more of a perfunctory thing. Roger knew (assumed, hoped) that if the Sorcerer ever did return, Wong would let him know and welcome him inside. And then… a portal? And then the Grandmaster? He tried not to think about it too hard. Yearning took up a lot of energy and, when his students began to come back to school in distressingly low numbers, Roger needed to reserve that energy for teaching.

Everything was the same, every day, until it wasn’t.

For a reason he couldn’t rationally explain, Roger knocked on the Sorcerer’s door. While he was waiting—just a few seconds, he planned—a man materialized on the sidewalk right next to him. He tottered and Roger reflexively said, “Whoa!” and grabbed his shoulder to keep him on his feet. Before Roger could hypothesize or ask the man any questions, a teenage girl returned to existence a few feet away. Then a woman holding a toddler tightly in her arms. A little boy. A man with a dog. A bicycle-less bike cop, still wearing his helmet. Releasing the man, Roger spun and pounded against the door with his fist.

Still, no one answered.

Fighting the urge to show up at Midtown Tech, Roger made himself stay put, right there on the Sorcerer’s doorstep.

He waited a long time. As the sun set, New York City rose around him. He watched people hugging, running home down the middle of the street. He fielded unfinished questions as the newly returned began to ask him what had happened, what time it was, what year, before jogging away, more purposeful with every step they took. Roger’s foot began to bounce on the sidewalk and his clammy hands twisted fretfully. It was still another 12 hours before the door opened.

Roger fell backwards into Wong’s shins, delirious from the sickening seesaw between urgency and exhaustion. Everywhere, people were reconnecting. He scrambled to his feet because he wanted to be one of them.

“Is he here?” Roger demanded.

Wong narrowed his eyes slightly, holding the door so it couldn’t be pushed open further.

“Might I remind you that it’s me you’ve been seeing here the last five years.”

“Yeah,” Roger agreed, trying to see past.

“I thought we had developed a rapport.”

Finally, Roger met Wong’s eyes, his own pleading.

“No, yes, you’re right, we have,” he babbled.

“We’re friends.”

“Yes, of course, we are friends. Definitely.”

“So when is my birthday?”

Roger’s mouth hung open as he searched his brain for a piece of information he knew wasn’t in there. A few seconds later, Wong turned mirthful.

“Did you spend the Blip hiding under a rock where there are no jokes? Come inside. We just got back.”

None of the thousands of times he’d come to the door mattered—Roger hadn’t been inside the Sanctum since that first time. He hoped the Sorcerer remembered him.

When he saw the man, Roger’s steps stuttered. The Sorcerer appeared grim and wiped out. He was dirty and he looked older, though Wong whispered to Roger that the Sorcerer had been among the Snapped. Roger understood that, for something to go right and bring everyone back to life, something else had gone wrong. He could dwell on that and awkwardly bow his way back out of there, or he could convince himself that things had gone wrong for him too, and that he’d like them to be righted. He remembered that his soulmate was a dictator and tried to channel that sense of entitlement.

“What do you know about the Anus?”

The Sorcerer blinked.

“What.” The word came out perfectly flat.

“The Anus.”

“I wasn’t that kind of doctor.”

Roger strode eagerly towards him, hands gesturing before his words caught up.

“When I was here about, um, five and a half years ago, I fell through your magic portal—”

The Sorcerer snapped his fingers in recognition and turned to Wong.

“Oh, that’s who this is. I always wondered what happened to that guy.” He looked at Roger again. “How did you get back to Earth?”

Roger hadn’t been prepared to answer this question, just make his demands, and he began to explain what had happened to him, all out of order. The words ‘orgy ship’ had barely left his mouth when the Sorcerer was waving him into silence. His expression told Roger he was sorry he’d asked.

“So you went through the portal…” he prompted instead.

“That’s right! And for a while, I was just falling. I don’t know where I was.”

The Sorcerer stroked his chin.

“The connection must’ve been unstable. I know—one of your students distracted me.”

“That’d be Flash,” Roger said.

“Jesus. This is why I prefer not to be a field trip destination. Normally, the portal would allow you to pass cleanly through one place and into another.”

“And instead he passed cleanly through the Anus,” Wong summarized.

“…Yeah.”

Roger glanced from one man to the other.

“So,” he said, “could you do it again?”

The Sorcerer stared at him.

“The short answer is no. The long answer is also no, but it contains a great deal of vernacular to do with the Mystic Arts, so I’ll save us both some time.”

The last time Roger had defended his intellect and qualifications had been years ago, and he was out of practice. Anyway, he didn’t want a lengthy debate.

“Can’t you just open a portal and shove me through?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a lot going on today. I’ve only entertained you this long because you and Wong seem to be friends. I’m not just going to mess around to humour you.”

“What if you had to do it?” Roger asked quickly, beginning to feel desperate and preparing to metaphorically jam one of his clumsy feet into the closing window of opportunity.

“Uh, let me think about that,” the Sorcerer droned disinterestedly. “No.”

“What if I attacked you and you opened a portal in self-defence?”

The Sorcerer squinted at him in disbelief and befuddlement.

“What?”

But Roger was already gracelessly throwing his weight into a wild, uncoordinated punch.

For once, he didn’t think critically of himself; he told himself that the Sorcerer’s portal sparked up between them because he was intimidated by Roger’s tenacity. And that it didn’t show a clear destination because the Sorcerer’s reaction speed was no match for Roger using the element of surprise. And that he dove purposely through the portal—on a mission for love and science and the unknown—instead of tumbling into it sideways because the momentum of his unpracticed punch had gotten the better of his balance. It didn’t matter. His feet went out from under him and he was on his way.

Roger had forgotten how intense the trip was, but he completely recalled the rough landing, bouncing down through a stack of the universe’s lost garbage. He shut his eyes to the whooshing and the brightness and braced himself (probably too early, but he didn’t think he could be too careful on this reckless endeavor).

He felt his body hit open air and gasped as he fell, trying to keep his limbs tucked in. The hat he’d been wearing was torn from his head. Didn’t matter; it wouldn’t have offered much protection anyway. At any moment, his poor elbows and knees would be battered by space junk. Between his velocity and his fear of the coming impact, Roger could hardly breathe.

Music. A familiar voice singing, It’s my soulmate! made his eyes fly open. Right in time to land on his back. Whatever was beneath Roger was soft, but he’d still had the wind knocked out of him and was struggling to fill his lungs. His eyes clamped shut as he began to cough.

“I have no idea how you survived that thing twice, but I sure am glad I caught ya.”

Finally sucking in a stronger breath, Roger opened his eyes and looked up. His glasses were askew. Above him was the opening in the ceiling of a hovering spacecraft, but closer than that, leaning over him, was the face of the Grandmaster. He was beaming.

“Any trouble with the Anus?” he asked.

Roger grabbed for the hand his soulmate had rested on his shoulder and moved it to his chest, right over his heart.

“The asshole who got me here will probably be thrilled to never see me again, but the Anus treated me just fine.”

“Ha!” the Grandmaster barked. His free hand lovingly patted Roger’s windblown hair back into place. “Welcome home.”

#my writing #MCU #spider-man #thor: ragnarok #Roger Harrington #En Dwi Gast (the Grandmaster)#their ship name is Mr. Master and they're what G deserves on her birthday

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sushireads · 4 years

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taehyung fic recs

this is a list of taehyung fics i’ve read and loved very much! enjoy. <3

ps. all fics with 🍙 are the ones i loved a little bit more.

Actually, The Devil Wears Gucci by @yandere-society / @chinkbihh

one shot | 6.7K words

You had always thought that ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ was an over exaggeration of what a boss/assistant relationship could be.

Until you met Mr. Kim.

Meryl Streep as a boss would’ve been an angel compared to the monster who signed your paychecks now.

ASSISTANT, CEO, YANDERE au

Akrasia by @nitaescence

smut | one shot | 3K words

(¬‿¬ ) basically two strangers fucking in a crowded bus

STRANGERS au

Candyman by @lthyl

horror, angst | one shot | 10.8K words

There’s a shop, hidden deep in the streets of Seoul, that every night opens its doors only to the ones who need it the most. There, the Candyman lives, waiting for you to buy dreams of silver and gold.

⤷ or: sweet nightmares are coming for you.

ego: hoe chronicles by @suga-kookiemonster

smut | one shot | 4.3K words

he stepped closer again, and though the hairs at the back of your neck rose in warning, you didn’t move back, allowing him to negate the space between you. merely craning your head so that you could look him solidly in the eye. “looks like you still don’t understand who you’re talking to,” he murmured. “should i teach you?”

—an alternate universe of ego

COLLEGE, FRAT BOY, FUCK BOY au

la la land (AO3 Link) by @hoseokiehopie

🍙, smut, humor, fluff | series

Taehyung Kim is one of the hottest up-and-coming stars in Hollywood, breaking barriers and snagging top titles in the film industry. After watching interviews featuring his charming personality and seeing his stunning face on modeling campaigns, you have to admit he intrigues you. When he’s casted as the romantic lead in your movie, you can’t deny your excitement at the chance of getting to work with him. That is until you have a mishap on day one of shooting and realize that pretty face and charming personality is really all an act.

ENEMIES TO LOVERS, FAKE DATING, HOLLYWOOD ACTOR au

love is the warmest colour by @honeymoonjin

fluff, angst, smut | one shot | 13.7K words

still bitter about a scandal that ruined your painting career, you’re recommended a getaway by your therapist to a small island off the coast of seoul. expecting a tranquil location to wallow in self-pity, you’re startled when on your first night, you encounter an avid fan of your work. instead of annoying you for an autograph, kim taehyung ends up being the very thing you need to fall in love with art again.

ARTIST, FAN BOY au

Marigolds by @peekaboongi

fluff, angst | one shot | 4.4K words

Your meeting with famous actor Kim Taehyung was no coincidence, and you find that your destinies are intertwined too intricately to ever escape your fates.

↳ alternatively late night car rides and conversations with Taehyung.

muse by @suga-kookiemonster

smut, fluff | drabble | 2.5K words

this could finally be tae’s big break, but he’s nervous and struggling to find inspiration. luckily, you’re willing to support him in all ways necessary.

ARTIST au

Reincarnate by @yandere-society / @chimchimsauce

horror | one shot | 7K words

‘Taehyung hates his immortal life, rueing the day Namjoon blessed him with eternity. But now, a hundred years later, he stumbles across someone who he— who they— want to keep forever.’

VAMPIRE au

Sanitarium by @lthyl

angst | series

The government hired you to cure Kim Taehyung from his madness, yet, every time you see him in that damn white room you lose sanity and yourself a bit more.

HARLEY QUINN au

See you by @gimmesumsuga

smut | two shots

The one where Taehyung notices you at a concert, and can’t help but want to see you again.

IDOL au

SHELTER by @btssmutgalore

angst, smut, fluff | one shot | 22.5K words

Taehyung’s always been a best friend, which is why you think he’s the right person to ask for help when it comes to relationships.

BEST FRIEND au

Snapped (AO3) by @kpopyandere

ON-GOING | angst, smut | ? | 6.3K words

Your relationship hasn't been going well lately. Taehyung decides to take advantage of this.

TWINS, YANDERE au

The Holi-Date by @kpopfanfictrash

🍙, fluff, smut | one shot | 40.5K words

When your ex-boyfriend becomes engaged to his new girlfriend at your annual Holiday party, you admittedly are not in the best place. Which explains why you down six shots of alcohol, enthusiastically drop it low on the dance floor and – oh, yeah – tell everyone you are also dating someone. The only problem? You are obviously not. Good thing your neighbor happens to be cute and in need of a ride to work every morning.

ARTIST, CHRISTMAS, FAKE DATING, NEIGHBOURS au

the universe of us. by @taesthetes

🍙, fluff, angst, fantasy | one shot | 21.1K words

nefelibata : (noun) lit. “cloud-walker”; the one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination or dreams

The story of Icarus tells of a naive being who loved the sun and flew too close, leading to his untimely descent into the ocean. But what the tale didn’t speak of was how the sun and the moon fell in love with him, too. And with the pull of the tides due to the attraction of the sun and the moon, he tosses and turns, torn between two entities.

So if Kim Taehyung embodies the sun, then Jeon Jungkook is the moon.

And you are Icarus.

DREAM, SLICE OF DREAM au

upstream colour by @honeymoonjin

smut, angst | one shot | 22.7K words

Escaping to Venice for a break from your strenuous job was meant to be simple. Go there, decompress for two weeks, and return feeling invigorated. But the soulful gondolier you meet on the docks in Saint Mark’s Square has you wanting to never leave at all.

—part of BTS Smut Club's Open for Business collaboration

back to navigation.

#bts fic recs #namjoon fic recs #jin fic recs #yoongi fic recs #hoseok fic recs #jimin fic recs #taehyung fic recs #jungkook fic recs #fic recs #bts fic recs masterlist #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung x reader #bts masterlist

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fanfictiondreamscape · 4 years

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First Kisses (Haikyuu - pt. 1)

Title: First Kisses (Haikyuu - pt. 1)

Genre: fluff, tons of it

Pairing: Sugawara/Tsukishima/Yaku/Akaashi/Kunimi x reader (all separate)

Notes: Nothing too unusual, but I thought that I’d start the posting to get something on the page. Whether it gets read, we’ll find out, but I couldn’t help myself. Onto the cliche headcanons. (I may do more of these, but for the time being, this will only consist of my top five characters in the anime). Quick note: some of these may be longer than others.

Only a forewarning, but inspiration hit harder in certain areas, y’know.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Masterlist

Sugawara Koushi

ok so

hear me out here, but I think that - for this to happen - it’d be with someone very shy.

someone that’s very shy and reserved while also remaining very aloof and observant

(maybe even a little sarcastic?)

like...he’d be attracted to their air, y’know?

as for the kiss...

the kiss itself would be done somewhere fairly private. and a little covered in shadow

someplace like the back row of a movie theater or the hidden corner of a cafe or restaurant. maybe even out in public when nobody’s outside (read: late night walk in the park)

like seriously, just imagine that, i swear-

ANYWAYS

the two of you would be holding hands, he’d be admiring you while you’re doing whatever you do

he thinks everything you do is adorable, and he can’t help but admire you

it’s only when you notice his googly eyes that you let him know that you know he was staring

he’d blush a little, but remain generally composed.

the quiet would be broken very suddenly by suga

“your so cute when you’re focused.”

little did you know, you were pouting.

he found that the most adorable.

he continued to watch you as you turned your eyes to the floor

oH BOY DID HIS HEART FLUTTER-

he couldn’t help himself.

time seemed to slow down as you looked up and he leaned in closer.

eventually, the two of you were staring into each others eyes

and once he peeked down for a millisecond, he kissed you

the kiss itself was very sweet, very gentle, but also had a slight bite to it?

(how am I supposed to explain this? does this even make any sense?)

as it got more passionate, he cupped your cheek with his hand as you gripped his shoulder lightly

as the two of you pulled away from each other, everything around you was a little blurry

even through the shadows, he could see that you were blushing a firetruck red

(little did he know, he was blushing the same color)

overall, the first kiss between you two would be very romantic and very sweet.

considering it’s suga, though, prepare for a little teasing and a tight hug afterwards.

Tsukishima Kei

THIS BOI I SWEAR-

it’s a well known fact that this beanpole is very obnoxious and snarky

so his s/o would be very much the same

maybe not as introverted, but very much sarcastic and witty

in order to last with this smartass, you’d have to be intelligent and have thick skin

good luck

otherwise, the kiss would most likely happen somewhere very private.

like his s/o’s room or his room, or when they’re home alone.

just somewhere very private and comfy

now here’s the thing-

i think the kiss itself would happen in the midst of a debate

something to throw the other off, y’know?

sooo...

the TV is playing in the background, probably some movie with a huge plot hole

it annoys both of you, but the two of you have two different opinions of how the plot hole could be fixed.

like...

you’re claiming that the timeline could be fixed had they found a certain item before a different one

and he’s claiming that the timeline could be fixed without the inclusion of either item

a whole back-and-forth ensues

the kiss itself though

that happens when you are starting to hesitate with comebacks and reasoning

like-

you know you’re right, but he’s pressing your buttons so much

the timeline is heavily dependent on the items that you stand by, so

(though he won’t admit it, he knows that the items are beneficial to the plot, and he’s only doing this to see you get flustered and red)

since tsukki’s not backing down, you decide that you have to do something drastic

something that’ll make the smart mouth speechless

so you decide that the time is now

when he’s looking at you with that smug look on his face, his mouth just slightly opened and about to make some baseless remark

you lean in and kiss him

it’s very short, very light

but now that he is shocked, you’re happy.

except...

he regains his composure and tilts your head to meet him

he kisses you this time

this time, its very passionate, a little rough, and a little messy

but the both of you enjoy it very much

the two of you act like nothing happened, but it’s the little moments like that that make the two of you happy

and you two tend to kiss and get a little more clingy in private-

overall, very short and kind of sneaky.

there’s still love behind it, of course

but there’s no real ‘pause’ or slowing of time until the second kiss

Yaku Morisuke

now-

i believe that this guy would be drawn to someone that’s very bubbly and energetic

not like yamamoto or lev, but very high-energy and outgoing

which also leads to the setting

A VOLLEYBALL GAME!

who tf would’ve guessed, oh my-

so like, the team is going up against a really powerful and notoriously defensive team

and while Nekoma is going HARD

they’re still behind

the sets were even and the odds did not seem to be in their favor

you’re in the stands, next to the mini yamamoto and lev’s sister

cheering loudly, helping lev’s sister understand the game a little better

anyway...

things are getting tough, and they call a time out

when Nekoma goes to their spot to discuss

you make eye contact with yaku

and you send him a thumbs up while mouthing ‘you got this!’

he sends you a big smile

and his upbeat mood almost completely lifts the slowly dengenerating one of the team

so when they are done elaborating a game plan following the slight loss of a flow

the members in play go onto the court rejuvenated.

with the new energy, they’re able to snag the lead

and, with a three-point difference, they win 25-22

a close call, but they’re excited nonetheless.

so are you and the girls that you were cheering with

as soon as they are finished lining up and people start to leave

you immediately run out of the gym and wait by the doors for your boyfriend and the team to come out

when they do, yaku comes out a little after the other team members

it’s your squeal that shocks him

the kiss happens when you jump onto him

(think something like the falling kiss between victor and yuuri from YOI)

kind of rough, slight teeth, but very romantic and passionate.

nothing bordering on lustful, but most definitely NOT shy

it would eventually mellow out to be more gentle and tame

the scene would lead to mixed reactions from the team, but

you can be sure that kuroo would have some smart remark, lev would have a dumb remark, and yamamoto would be fussing that he doesn’t have a girl

overall, while the kiss would be surprising and rough at first, it would calm down a lot

very romantic, very shocking, but also very memorable

ok but on another note, can something like this happen to me please-

Akaashi Keiji

ok now

this guy would probably be drawn to someone very laidback

kind of chaotic (think quiet chaos)

and very outgoing

like, someone like beck from victorious?

oh god, it’s all coming back to me now-

not so flirty and borderline flighty, but they’d carry the same air that beck does

otherwise, the kiss would probably happen when the two of you are in a private area of something

like a friendly outing or something, and bokuto would be acting like a fool with kuroo or another team member

so like-

the two of you would be cuddled up next to each other silently

maybe like in a less-obvious area

someplace hidden

and you’d just be doing your own thing

playing on your phone, reading, maybe even studying with the pretty setter

either way, you’re absorbed in your work

just as much as he is

though he has been taking slight peeks at you while you were doing whatever

it was distracting him

and he was trying to read

just imagine him thinking

‘they’re so pretty when they’re focused’

you don’t realize that he’s staring at you, but you do eventually are made aware of someone looking at you

with this guy being how he is, he’d probably just keep looking if you made eye contact with him

you’d laugh, he’d turn a little red

ultimately, though, he’d lean forward despite the flustered reaction.

he’d pause in front of you, just watching your lips twitch up into a small smile

a little nod would be the unspoken allowance that he was asking for.

now.

THE KISS

HOO BOY

i imagine that this would be magical

like-

the sparks never leave even after a couple hours.

even then, the remaining sparks are like little fairies that won’t leave your side.

it’s slow, it’s soft, it’s romantic

it’s also not the most gentle, not the most experienced, not the most clean (for lack of a better word)

but it’s everything that either of you could’ve asked for

when the two of you pull away, you giggle a little

akaashi smiles a little

(you know the one!)

anyway, after the kiss

you two would be made aware of the people around you

like bokuto

who is screaming “YEAH! FINALLY!”

you full on bust out laughing and akaashi rolls his eyes

(he may appear bothered, but he finds it endearing)

he does keep a slightly tighter grip on you after that though

overall, his kiss, in my opinion would be the best

if not THE best, then ONE of the best (next to yaku’s oop-)

very smooth, but very inexperienced

while also remaining so unabashedly him, y’know?

Kunimi Akira

now, i haven’t seen as much love for this guy

while i may be missing it or not looking in the right place, i thought i’d contribute to the kunimi train

ANYWAYY

i think he’d go for a bookworm

not necessarily quiet or loud, but very much to themselves.

someone whose shell would have to break

kunimi would probably be best friends with his s/o before he even thought of wanting to date them

and much like suga, i think that the first kiss would happen somewhere slightly private

by slightly private, i mean an area that couples would be plentiful

amusement parks, regular parks, you get it

either way, the area wouldn’t change the kind of kiss

since he is so quiet, i feel like he’d find a way to just relax with you

in a place that is ironically romantic (considering he doesn’t care too much)

that being said, i imagine that this would happen on the ferris wheel

cliche, i know, but just let me elaborate

it’d be getting dark, the two of you would have been at the amusement park with your friends

or maybe even upperclassmen

either way, you two have finally gotten a break from the personalities

and you just want time with each other

no talking, just calm and quiet

anyway, on your search to find something quiet to do

kunimi sees the ferris wheel and notices that the line isn’t very long

(perfect for him, seeing as his laziness is a factor written in the wiki-)

he directs your attention to it in a way that involves little words, and you agree to his suggestion

after a few minutes of waiting, you two get seated and just sit in silence

throughout the whole ride (up to this point), kunimi was looking at you

observing how the sunset makes you glow in the light

how the carnival lights reflect in your eyes

and he melts

you wouldn’t notice it since you are so absorbed in the view of the event

and he is absorbed in the view of you

now, here’s where things get odd

he wouldn’t know how to approach the thought of your first kiss when it crosses his mind

all he knew is that he refused to plan it, the idea struck him, and the timing was perfect.

so.

he just reaches for you hand, and when you turn to look at him

he quickly leans in and pecks your lips

short, sweet, but full of love

definitely leaves the both of you flustered, but

you two do end up scooting a little closer to you after it

and spend the rest of the night at each other’s hip

overall, the kiss is very quick

don’t let that fool you, though, especially with kunimi

the kiss is perfect coming from him, and wouldn’t be the slightest bit overwhelming

it’d leave for more calm atmosphere between the two of you

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luciensfox · 3 years

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ACOSF Thoughts...

Don’t read unless you wish to be spoiled! Here are some things I can’t get out of my head after finishing the book...

Well first and foremost, I absolutely adore Nessian (as I always have but now it’s even more so) and I’m incredibly pleased with the direction it seems that SJM is leading Nesta’s character development! I’ve always wanted a badass warrior Nesta and I got way more than I figured (short of her growing wings at any time as I think some Valkyrie myths depict, this is amazing/ especially with all of the parallels people drew with her and Enalius). She’s going to make for an interesting character in the coming books and dare I say...commander Nesta. Oh, yes.

Of course I’ve always been obsessed with Lucien and nothing has changed on that front, but I’m even more intrigued now because we still need so many answers. When will it be revealed that he’s the heir of the Day Court? What’s the standings between he and Tamlin? With Vassa and Jurian? With his mother/ brothers? His mate? We literally got only two or three scenes with Luc involved so I knew nothing would be resolved in this novella, however I’m even more excited to see how Eris will play into his character arc come the next story (because you cannot convince me that SJM would put more emphasis on Eris than Lucien in this book and not intend for some brotherly angst in the future). Eris is also an anomaly and maybe it’s because I’m obsessed with the mysterious nature of whatever the hell is happening in the Autumn Court, but I really can’t wait to see what’s up with him and the rest of his family. (Also....the ballroom scene with Nest and Eris dancing to what is supposed to reflect Black Swan was one of my absolute favorite scenes.) Does Eris secretly desire peace and wants to take over Autumn not for power but to make amends and heal/ bring back glory to his home? And what exactly happened with Mor? SJM put so much emphasis on that too and we still have no idea.

I LOVE Gwyneth and Emerie. The triad of Valkyries was honestly the best part of the whole book for me. I know everyone is quick to match up characters with potential romances/ mates etc and it sounds like that’s what will happen with these two...but let’s not forget that they’re incredibly strong characters on their own terms and I hope whatever comes about their arcs isn't entirely placed on their romance status. However, they both seem to want to find someone to be with which leads me to believe that Emerie and Mor will very likely end up together (if only for the fact that we got one sentences indicating Em finds Mor gorgeous....I guess we’ll have to wait and see what happens) and that Gwyn is going to be a potential interest for Azriel.

I love Lucien so much, but my soft fox boy needs to heal and stop forcing himself to find romantic love when all he really needs is some self love. (So perhaps that will be his final journey....Lucien finally coming to terms with his trauma, settling ties with everyone from his past, and taking up his mental as Helion’s son and the future of the Day Court.)

Elain seemed a bit OOC...and yet not at all? We’ve only got the chance to see the “sweet/ innocent” side of her, but it makes sense that she’s going to be a super complex character (SJM wouldn't have set her up so mysteriously if the intent was to leave her as a mere gardener) and that her journey in following books will show us a side of her we’ve never encountered. The Elriel ship has always been a confusing one for me, not because I don’t ship it but because there’s so much happening all the time that it’s hard to get a proper read on clues when SJM throws characters like Gwyn at us...coupled with the fact that Lucien seems to still be in love with Elain (or at least he’s just lonely and doesn't know how else to react, never mind whatever is happening with Vassa and Jurian), and that Az seems intent on getting with Elain....but Az also seems to be the type of character who falls in love deeply without considering a number of things. He’s driven by his desires and often hurt by them, hence his love for Mor. Notice how shortly after he started drifting from his desire for Mor, he started to desire Elain? Part of me wonders if it’s because he found the person he’s meant to be with...or if he felt attracted to her and she was a distraction to his pain and a means to help him get over Mor. Like I said, I don’t know which way I lean just yet but these are all possibilities!

Then there’s the Gwynriel ship--totally didn’t see that coming but I can’t say I don’t enjoy it. I love how Gwyn teases Az in a way that many others usually don’t dare, and that she’s another character with a history outside of the IC. While there’s a lot to consider, like the fact that Az’s shadows shy away when Elain is around but “dance” and seem to be overjoyed when Gwyn is nearby, I think a truly noticeable parallel to the pairing could be this:

Azriel is no stranger to unrequited love. In fact, that seemed to be his overarching characteristic for the first two books. Now that he’s found Elain and she also reciprocates their shared desire, it would be easy to pair them together. However, Gwyn seems to be interested in Azriel and Az can’t seem to figure out his standings with her other than being enticed and not realizing what’s in front of him because he’s so determined to be with Elain since “she’s the third sister and he the third brother” etc so it must make sense somehow even though Elain is mated. But Gwyn, to that extent, is no stranger to unrequited love either.

Just imagine: Azriel finally cracks in the following book and shows a rare display of emotions to either Gwyn or the IC (or both) and Gwyn decides to confront him about facing his fears (his past with Mor, his current standings with Elain, his desire to have someone) by claiming that she knows exactly what unrequited love feels like because every day she stares at him and feels precisely as devastated as he did/does whenever he sees Mor or Elain. Az will probably be shocked to all hell and maybe it’ll snap him out of his misery enough to think clearly on the whole matter.

The Rhysand and Nesta friendship was something else I wasn’t expecting, didn’t necessarily think I’d want, but now am excited to see bloom. They definitely do share traits and I can’t help but remember how Rhys once compared Feyre to Cassian and how Nesta and Rhys might be the opposite counterparts since they’re both haughty and respond to things with incredibly heightened emotions because they love fiercely.

This post is much longer than I’d intended but oh well, some other things for your consideration.....

A Varian/Amren x Nessian double date.

Nesta taking on a similar military role as Cassian and either leading a female unit of Illyrians/ Valkyries or sharing the brunt of Cassian’s job (plus come on... those two training together is essentially their respective version of foreplay and I’m so here for warrior Nessian bonding).

I hope we get to see that mating ceremony scene!

Also....does anyone remember Balthazar--the Illyrian who showed up for one scene and fell asleep on Nesta’s shoulder during the Blood Rite while he helped them find shelter? There’s no way SJM would’ve written in a character like that without intending for him to show up again in the future....

Koschei the deathless? Wonder what will occur there.

Damn, if you’ve made it this far give yourself a pat on the back.

#I honestly was going to write one sentence #ONE #but then...this happened #I guess I just felt very strongly about this book and didn't realize it until now #god there are so many unanswered questions #time for fanfic i guess lol #nessian #a court of silver flames #acosf #acosf spoilers #sjm #elriel #gwynriel #lucien vanserra

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themoonandotherslikeit · 4 years

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Breathe - Chapter Three

After the biggest meeting of her career, Y/N went for a drink and met him. Dean Winchester, the handsome bartender at The Shop, who managed to say all of the right things to soften her hard shell. Was it possible that Y/N was wrong all of this time? Had she spent the better part of 2 decades focusing on her career when there was one man in a city of 18 million that could make her feel more alive than any job ever could? Will she be able to slow down long enough to let herself fall in love with a man that was never a part of the plan? After years of holding her breath, will she finally let herself breathe again?

This story is written for my beautiful and talented friend and beta @dean-winchesters-bacon, thanks for always inspiring me and supporting my whims. Love you always.

Banner by the talented @talesmaniac89

Chapter Three

Her

Y/N woke up groggy with a pressure on the inside of her skull threatening to crack her head open and spill everything out. Her temples throbbed insistently and a wave of nausea hit her as soon as she opened her eyes. The gloomy, dark skies hid the sun from bleeding in through the open curtains, but it still felt too bright for her hangover. Everything felt slow and sluggish, like she was trying to walk under water.

She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and a streak of mascara darkened her skin. She rarely forgot to take off her makeup, and she knew her skin would punish her for it later. She yawned and squinted at the window. She didn’t usually leave her black out curtains up… in fact, she never opened them.

There are moments that are subtle, brief and fleeting like the first flake of snow of the season. Sometimes they go completely unnoticed and unremembered. Other moments are big, grand, powerful enough to move mountains and change a person’s life forever.

As Y/N looked around the apartment, her surroundings coming together like a puzzle that finally clicked together seamlessly, she experienced one of those astronomical, mounting moving moments.

This was not her apartment.

“The fuck…”

Quickly orienting herself, she tried to find any kind of identifying information to tell her where she ended up and who she may have gone home with. It was not like her to be so reckless.

The apartment was tidy, but, by the simple decor and smell of the sheets she was able to discern that the apartment definitely belonged to a man. She pinched the bridge of her nose to quiet an oncoming headache. She didn’t even remember a man from the night before that she could’ve gone home with. Oh how the mighty have fallen, she thought solemnly.

She glanced under the blanket that was hiding her bottom half, happy to find that she still had her dress and panties in place. She had to admit, though, that the situation was confusing. She didn’t have sex last night, that she was fairly sure of, but in that case… Why was she in a strangers apartment? It didn’t make any sense.

She slipped out of bed, finding her heels resting neatly on the floor next to the bed, placed with care.

Who would take her home and just tuck her into bed? That was something a friend did, or a boyfriend. Her stomach twisted as Sam’s face flashed in her mind. His kind hazel eyes wrinkling at the edges as he smiled at her. He would take care of her in that way without question, and that thought terrified her. She’d avoided his apartment for so long for that exact reason. She couldn’t risk him getting the wrong idea.

She picked up her shoes, not wanting to risk clicking on the hardwood floors and alerting the mystery man. As she poked her head around the room separator she was hit with the smell of cooking. Her mouth watered immediately at the savory smell of meat sizzling on the stove and something sweet that she couldn't quite place. Y/N did not cook. Her kitchen was purely aesthetic. She wouldn't even know how to turn her oven on, let alone use it, so the smells were new and warming. If the food tasted as good as it smelled, she may have a reason not to sneak out after all. Her stomach growled in agreement, and she resisted the urge to shush it.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” a voice said, gruffly and familiar. Her eyes followed the sound of the voice and caught his green eyes from across the apartment.

The bartender! You went home with the goddamn bartender?! You’re better than this, Y/N. You aren’t twenty anymore.

“Yes. Thank you for your hospitality,” she said, her voice strained and awkward.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth and his eyebrow quirked in response. “I’m almost done with breakfast. Do you have time to have a seat?”

She shifted her weight awkwardly. The mix of her own vulnerability, the smell of bacon grease, a hangover, and how undeniably attractive he was had her reeling. The answer should’ve been no immediately. She had enough problems without adding a man to the mix, but yet there she was, considering it.

“You good, Y/N?”

The sound of her name snapped her out in an instant. Her shoulders rolled back, and her grip tightened on her heels. “I’m fine. I should get going.”

“Big day?” he asked, his eyes flashing with something mischievous.

“Every day is a big day if you make it big.”

“That sounds exhausting.” He pulled a pan off the stove. “Do you ever have days where you do nothing?”

She squinted at him. This guy is kidding, right? “That doesn’t sound very productive.”

“So I guess that’s a no,” he said with a chuckle. “You should try it. No plans. Just relax and go with the flow.”

“Don’t you have to plan to have a day like that? So it’s not really without a plan.”

“You got me there.” Dean laughed, crossing his arms. “Do you always plan out your own days?”

“Yes. What kind of question is that?”

“I was just wonderin’ if you ever let anyone else plan things for you.” He shrugged.

“Absolutely not.”

He walked toward her, his height overcoming her as he approached. He wore a pair of jeans, socked feet, and a black Led Zeppelin t-shirt. His hair was messy from sleep, but his eyes were wide, awake, and engaged. “Are you afraid to lose control?”

“No.” Yes.

“Let me plan a day for you, Y/N.” His voice was silky and thick like honey, tickling her cheeks as he brushed her hair behind her ear. Her eyes flickered up to meet his, feeling taken aback from his sudden intensity. She half expected her skin to catch fire from the electricity bouncing between their chests to the beat of her racing heart.

“Dean I…”

“Hey, before you say anything hear me out,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. Her lips pressed together, giving him only a moment to make his case - which was more than she allowed most people. “I know you’ve got all the reasons in the world to say no. You don’t know me, you have no reason to trust me, but you’re a professional. I can see that, hell anyone can see it just by lookin’ at you. Y/N, you should know that there is risk in the world, and you could miss out on some of the best things in life if you don’t take it. Someone took a chance on you once, didn’t they?”

He was breathing heavily, obviously a little worked up, and the sight of his body twisted up in ragged breaths sent a chill up her spine. The risk he was talking about was not the same thing as her job, as law school, as every tough case she had ever taken. He was out of line trying to make it seem like they were even on the same plane of reality. Even though she knew all of that, she still found herself wanting the impossible, the outrageous.

“Take a risk on me, Y/N.”

She wanted a life that could move mountains. She always had. She wanted to say yes.

Dean

Later

“Hold up, hold up. You’re going on a date?”

Dean shrugged, running his fingers through his hair in the bathroom mirror, unable to keep one spot from sticking straight up. “I don’t know if it’s a date or not. I’m just gonna give her some fun. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“So it is a date.”

“Sammy, you need to relax,” Dean said, waving his younger, half brother away. Dean’s parents had divorced after he was born, and a year later Dean’s mom fell in love with Sam’s dad, and the boys had been together ever since. “My romantic life isn’t your concern.”

“Sure it is,” Sam said with a laugh, sitting on Dean’s bed. He moved the room divider when he’d entered the apartment to give himself somewhere comfortable to sit, and was currently lounging across the large mattress. “I don’t want you to die alone.”

“Nobody is dyin’.”

“We are all dying, Dean. Technically.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I don’t see your point,” Sam said with a frown, his eyebrows coming together.

“How’s mom?”

“She’d like to see you.”

Dean exhaled sharply from his nose. He didn’t see Mary nearly enough. She lived out in New Jersey and it still felt like a betrayal to his dad going out to visit her frequently. Plus, he spent most of his days in The Shop. There was always an excuse, even though none of them seemed good enough. “Miss her too.”

“You should call her.”

Dean poked his head out of the bathroom to eye his brother. “I don’t need a lecture, Sammy.”

“Hey you asked.” His brother was quiet for a beat before sitting up. “So… I got the case.”

“What?! Why didn’t you lead with that! I would’ve taken the night off to take you out to celebrate. This is huge news!”

“Wait, you’re going to work? I thought you were going on a date?”

Dean shrugged, “She said I could have her time Sunday morning. From eight to ten thirty.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You want to go out with someone that stringent?”

Dean shoulders lifted again, “Guess so.” He walked out and sat next to his brother. “But this isn’t about me. I’m really proud of you, brother. You’ve worked really hard for this.”

Sam’s cheeks reddened a bit, and he reached behind his head, scratching his neck awkwardly. “Thanks. I’ve really been trying, and I’m excited for the opportunity. I know they’re taking a chance on me and it means a lot.”

“They’re making the right choice, Sammy. You’re damn good at your job. It’s too late for me to get a replacement, but come by, and I’ll get you dinner and drinks on the house.”

“I’ll just ride with you then. We can split a cab.”

Dean grinned at his brother, squeezing his shoulder. “You got it, kid.”

He could still see little Sammy with his bright eyes staring up at him. He had all of these grand dreams that were so big. For a while he wanted to be president, and Dean believed that he could do it. Sam had the heart and the drive to do anything he put his mind to, maybe that was the draw Dean had to Y/N. She reminded him of the same fire he saw in his brother.

“What about the woman you’re talking to?”

Sam let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. “I dunno Dean. She might hate me.”

“She’d be stupid to hate you, kid. You’re a goddamned catch.” He slid his wallet and phone in his pocket, and offered a hand to Sammy so he could pull him up. “Fight for her. That’s all you can do.”

His little brother looked up at him knowingly and nodded, clasping their hands together. He pulled Sam up, looking up at his younger brother who towered over him by at least three inches. “I will,” Sam agreed, “I’ll fight for her.

“Good. Now let's go get you a drink.”

“Or five.”

Her

“Give me your hand.”

Y/N raised her eyebrow before offering her palm.

The fiery red head in front of her consisted of her one guilty pleasure in this world. Rowena McCloud. The self proclaimed witch was cheaper than a therapist any day of the week, and she provided tea leaves that were usually the only thing, other than two fingers of whiskey, that put Y/N to sleep after a long, stressful day.

Rowena ran her long manicured nails along the lines of Y/N’s palms. “You’ve met someone.”

Here she goes again. Why did I even come here? Y/N asked herself every time that she came to the tea shop for a visit. Why did she come? She knew the answer, but saying it out loud was too fucking pathetic for words.

She had no friends, and her relationship with her mother was strained at best. So who else was she supposed to talk to about her issues? She could always ignore them, but that was like cutting wires at random, just hoping the one she was cutting wasn’t the trip wire that would explode her entire life. Bottling up emotions caused frown lines and acne break-outs, and she was too damn old for pimples. So she’d ended up with a Scottish witch examining her love line a little too closely.

“Have not.”

“Oh come on, Y/N, you have.” Her green eyes flickered up to meet Y/N’s, her red painted lips curled into an ornery smirk. “I can tell. You’re flushed. What’s his name.”

“There is no him.”

“Fine. Then what’s her name.”

Y/N pulled her hand away and crossed her arms in annoyance. “Give me a break, Rowena.”

“I cannot, I'm afraid, but I can make you tea.”

“Fine.” She couldn’t help but smile as the woman turned away. Even twenty-plus years her senior, they still meshed well together. She looked at her as a second mother, or even better, a friend. If she knew how to have those, of course.

“Why did you come here?”

“I didn’t get the promotion.”

“Ah.”

“You don’t seem surprised,” Y/N said, a bite to her words. “I deserved it.”

“Of course you did,” Rowena said smoothly as she poured a dark, steeped liquid into the small tea cup. “But you’ll have something better.”

“If you say love I’m going to come across this table and smack you.”

The witch laughed at that, the skin crinkling around her eyes in amusement. “I was going to say sex.”

“I am having sex,” she said with a huff.

“Not sex that you enjoy.”

It was a bold statement. A bold statement that Y/N wasn’t confident that she could disagree with. She thought she enjoyed it, but she never had anything outside of other meaningless connections to compare it to. She’d never wanted more, though. Her one love was her job and that’s how it was always supposed to be. At least before her job royally fucked her. Maybe it was time she started thinking about herself, instead of the firm.

“I enjoy sleeping with him.”

“You hesitated, love. It’s mighty okay to be unsatisfied. Well, it isn’t okay, but it’s normal. You don’t have to stand for it.”

She waved Rowena off dismissively, “It’s fine.”

Rowena shook her head, her deep red curls bouncing. “Oh sweetie. It shouldn't be fine. It should be electric, hot, passionate. You aren’t living your best life if your sex is just fine.” Her green eyes flashed as she grinned. “You must’ve not slept with him yet, or you wouldn’t be so casual.”

“You’re obsessed.”

“Aren’t you? You said yes to him, after all.”

“I had to get him off my back. He was persistent. He wouldn’t take no as an answer.”

Take a risk on me, Y/N.

“You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can’t lie to me.” Rowena tapped the lip of the cup with her index finger. “It’s all in the leaves.”

Y/N looked down into the cup that she hadn’t even noticed she’d been sipping. The mushed, wet leaves were at the bottom of her cup, and maybe she just had it on the mind or maybe Rowena was right and magic was in the air, but she could’ve sworn that they looked just like a heart. Lumpy, misshapen, but like one nonetheless.

Dean

Part of Dean worried that she wouldn’t show. That would be his luck. Maybe he would deserve it after being a little too intense. Take a chance on me. Who the fuck did he think he was? He didn’t normally come off that strong.

She wouldn’t let him pick her up. “What if you’re a serial killer?” Evidently he hadn’t earned her trust yet, even though he was a perfect gentleman the night before. “A woman can’t be too safe, Dean.” He liked the way she said his name. She sounded annoyed, but amused at the same time. She couldn’t quite keep up the unimpressed expression. He made it a personal goal to make her smile more than she frowned. She’d look amazing with laugh lines. Everyone should have them.

Lisa often complained about the lines on her face, and she painted makeup over them to hide the creases and curves. Dean had loved them. They told the story of her life. Laugh lines showed a long, happy life full of laughter and joy. He could never understand why she would want to hide them. It was beyond him.

He was meeting Y/N in front of the restaurant. He held two disposable cups in one hand and a paper bag in the other, leaning against the building. He watched people stroll past. They weren’t watching their surroundings, constantly staring straight forward. That was the downside to New York City, no one was interested in the now. All they cared about was the next thing. He supposed it made sense that no one stopped to smell the roses in a city made of steel and concrete. There were no flowers to smell, only exhaust.

Dean, on the other hand, believed in things that were beautiful. There was always something good to see.

In front of him, a woman bundled her baby in a ball of blue, fluffy blanket to keep him protected from the autumn chill. A man jogged with his dog, whose tongue was out, having the time of his life. A man in a suit, who kissed a woman goodbye as he stepped out of a cab. And her.

Y/N stood across the street, fumbling around her purse for something. He could see her eyebrows furrow even from that distance. She wore a pair of black pants tucked into black boots and a long burgundy sweater. A curl fell into her eye, the rest of her hair tucked into a wide-brimmed hat. She looked different than she had the day before, and he took note of everything about her to add to his mental collection right next to the way she looked first thing in the morning, how she looked when she was angry, and the way her voice sounded when she was drunk. He was excited to learn all he could about her. What was her favorite food? What was her ideal temperature? How did she like her coffee?

He wanted to know her, even with the high probability that she would hurt him. He figured that pain was something, and something had to be better than the emptiness he’d been feeling. Pain at least meant that he was still alive.

—————————————

Chapter Four

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hookedonapirate · 3 years

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Through the Rising Tide

Thank you so much for the beautiful graphic @itsfabianadocarmo!

Summary: The Jones brothers are polar opposites. Liam's the safe and honorable one, straight-laced and straight as an arrow. The good son.

Killian's the dangerous one, the bad boy with tats, leather jackets, a motorcycle and a questionable past.

The only things they have in common are panty-melting sea-blue eyes, the flat they share in Storybrooke and a rare blood type.

Oh, and apparently their taste in women.

Or rather, one woman.

Feisty.

Blonde.

Gorgeous.

Green-eyed Goddess.

Killian saw her first, but she chose his brother—the nice guy over the playboy. And even though she’s dating his brother, it doesn't make him want her any less. If that's not bad enough, she moves in with them and he has to pretend he's not completely in love with her. His life could not get any worse…

Until Liam dies in a tragic motorcycle accident.

Leaving each of them with one half of a broken heart.

Now Killian and Emma are left helping each other pick up the pieces.

Just as they're beginning to learn how to live in their new reality, another riptide pulls them further into the deep end when she finds out she's pregnant with Liam's baby.

Notes: Because I’ve received some comments saying that this fic is “inscestuous” EVEN THOUGH I CLEARLY SAID IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS IDEA TO HIT THE BACK BUTTON, I feel like I have to repeat myself and make it louder and clearer for the people in the back: If you're not comfortable with Emma and Killian’s relationship after she is with Liam, or if the idea of Emma being with both brothers at different times makes you squick or is cringy to you, THIS FIC IS NOT FOR YOU AND YOU ARE NOT INVITED TO READ SO HIT THE BACK BUTTON RIGHT NOW. I repeat, if the storyline makes you squick or is cringy to you, THIS FIC IS NOT FOR YOU AND YOU ARE NOT INVITED TO READ SO HIT THE BACK BUTTON RIGHT NOW! For everyone else, please enjoy!

Thank you @ultraluckycatnd for looking it over!

This story was inspired by Baby Mine by Kennedy Fox, and I loved the book so much and thought it was very much underrated. I’ve wanted to write a fic like this for a long time now because it’s one of my favorite tropes, but after I read that book, I just had to write my own take. Also, I made this post about a Baby Yodarita drink last year when it was trending and since the beginning of this story starts one year prior, 2019 and since Killian is a bartender, it was a perfect way to include the prompt.

The title comes from the lyrics of the song, Lay By Me by Ruben. The particular line goes like this:

"I hope you know through the rising tide That I'll be here and you can lay by my side"

If you've never heard it, I recommend giving it a listen. It's an amazing song and very fitting for this story.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFJbLzEtoZw

P.S. In case you're unable to read the shoulder tattoo in the picture above and are wondering what it says—

"There is no happiness without tears

No life without death

And no true love without heartbreak"

Rated: Explicit for smut (including sexual fantasies, masturbation, implied and detailed sex, etc.) and language (lots of F-bombs).

Also available on: AO3 FF.N

One Week Later…

“I’m so sorry I'm late,” Ruby apologizes profusely as she scurries across the bar and rounds the counter. “Please don't fire me,” she pleads, her words full of panic. “I promise it won't happen again.”

Killian arches a brow, thoroughly amused as he watches her haul ass. Is Ruby Red actually worried about losing her job?

Well, this is a first.

Liam looks up from the paperwork in his hands and actually smiles as he waves off her words. “Don’t worry about it, Rubes.” As he turns around and casually heads into his office... he’s fucking whistling.

What the hell?

Killian and Ruby exchange bewildered looks.

This isn't the only time Liam has left them perplexed lately. He's been easy on his staff all week.

The question is, what the fuck changed?

There can only be one explanation—Liam met someone. He knows this because Liam was like this when he met his last girlfriend. Very lenient and cheerful and whistling all the time. But last time, he told Killian about her. So why hasn’t he said anything this time?

“I think your brother is broken,” Ruby remarks.

Killian chuckles and tosses the bar cloth over his shoulder. “Or pussy whipped.”

Ruby furrows her brows. “I thought you said him not getting laid wasn’t the issue?”

Killian shakes his head. “No, him not getting laid is why he’s in such a good mood.”

Ruby’s even more perplexed, not understanding how being sex-deprived could possibly put Liam in a good mood. “Huh?”

Killian smirks. “He met some lass, and she hasn’t put out yet. Which, being the hopeless romantic Liam is, he’s fine with, but that doesn’t mean he’s not hoping to get some.”

Ruby rolls her eyes and walks away to begin her shift. “Why are men so fucking complicated?”

He laughs at her words and the thought of Liam being so nice this entire week over some lass he’s smitten with. Killan’s happy for Liam, but to be honest, his brother's happiness makes him kind of bummed. Because it's reminding him of how unhappy he is. He’s been unhappy and kind of pissed all week. Ever since last Friday, when that angel never came back.

He was so enchanted by her.

He keeps asking himself why she never returned to him. He’d thought they’d had a connection, he’d thought they’d shared a moment. He’d thought she’d felt the same attraction for him he’d felt for her. Was she just leading him on? Or did she find some other bloke who gave her more attention than he could that night?

He wishes he knew.

Killian suffers through another evening without seeing Emma enter the bar. He keeps eyeing the door, keeps waiting for her to appear and approach him to explain herself, to supply him with some sort of explanation. But she never shows.

The next night is no different. Same agony, different day. But this time, his brother isn't here to poke fun at and distract him from the blonde bombshell weighing on his mind.

The dim lamp light cascades over the living room when Killian trudges through the door after three a.m. Tossing his keys on an end table, he chucks off his jacket and looks down, seeing Liam's boots laying haphazardly on the floor by the door. Which is odd because he's always yelling at Killian for leaving his shoes on the floor instead of storing them in the closet.

Killian shakes off the thought and throws his jacket over a chair before heading to the bathroom. He always needs time to wind down after his shift, but tonight, he just wants to sleep and hopefully forget about Emma for a few goddamn hours. But in order for him to do that, there’s something he must do, first.

He’s been unbearably hard all week from thinking about her. So as soon as he feels the hot water spraying his skin under the shower head, he wraps his hand around his cock and strokes himself, his stiff, wet flesh easily slipping through his fist. He can’t help it, though. Emma had stirred something inside him. Something he’s never felt before.

He knows this is a bad idea, he knows he shouldn’t get this worked up over someone he’s only spoken to once. But at the moment, he’s too hard and his head’s too foggy with lust, his blood running too hot when he remembers how she’d smiled at him, how she’d bitten her bottom lip, remembers her soft curves and how fantastic her ass looked in those tight jeans and how that sexy, pink lace had clung to her breasts. He groans, needing so desperately to ease the tension before he goes completely mad.

Pressing his free hand against the shower wall as the hot stream cascades down his back, he pumps himself harder and faster, grunting as he imagines her pretty lips on his mouth... on his chest... on his stomach... wrapped around his cock. Imagines her humming around him and growing wet from tasting him in her mouth. Imagines what her soft, silky tongue would feel like on him. Imagaines how good her pussy would feel around his cock. Imagines her on top of him, naked and writhing, her skin shimmering in the moonlight as she rode his dick.

He can almost hear her moans and short pants in his ear as he imagines taking her breasts in his hands, squeezing firmly while he fucked her good and hard until she was screaming out his name, her walls squeezing him tight as she came all over his cock.

His body goes rigid, a rough, drawn-out groan rippling through his throat as Emma's name tumbles from his lips. Seconds later, his hand and stomach are a hot, sticky mess as his hand stills around his pulsing length. His heart is pounding and his breath is ragged as he watches the aftermath of what he’d done disappear into the drain.

After he washes the night away from his body (and feels the urge to touch himself again when he lathers his balls and softened cock with soap) he rinses off and steps out of the shower without giving in to more temptation. He dries off with a towel, pulls on a pair of boxers and heads to bed, feeling no shame for what he'd done in the shower. For jerking off to visions of Emma, who’s almost a complete stranger to him. He knows he should feel some kind of guilt or remorse, but right now he can’t find it within himself to feel sorry. He needed that.

And maybe now, he’ll be able to stop thinking about her long enough to get some shut-eye.

But it doesn’t bloody work.

He tosses and turns, still unable to rid her from his mind, and he’s not even sure why. Well, actually he is. She was gorgeous and sexy and playful, and he’d wanted to get to know her. He’d wanted to know everything about her. But apparently, she hadn’t wanted the same from him.

He’d waited over an hour for her at the bar the night he met her, and would've waited longer if not for Tina approaching him and chatting his ears off. He'd wanted to either ignore her or tell her he wasn't interested, but he didn't want to be a jackass. And when Emma never showed, he thought about taking Tina up on her offer and bringing her home in an attempt to forget about Emma. To forget about her smile or her eyes or the memorizing light surrounding her or the way she winked at him as she walked away from the bar.

But he knew it wouldn’t be fair to Tina to be with her while thinking of another woman. He may be a dashing rapscallion, but he's still a gentleman.

He’d seen Emma with Mary Margaret and Ruby, and he was half tempted to cash in a favor from Ruby and have her obtain Emma's number, and maybe he should've. But Emma obviously made her choice and he's afraid she would be creeped out by his advances. So he never did.

Just as Killian is drifting off to sleep, something yanks him awake, but it's not thoughts of her. Rather it's…

Thump.

Moaning.

Thump.

Cursing.

Thump.

Grunting.

Thump.

What the actual fuck?

Liam knew Killian had a late shift tonight and yet he decided this was the night to get some action from the mysterious woman he's been seeing?

Killian even asked Liam about her, but he completely denied it.

“Not seeing anyone, my arse,” Killian grumbles, but even though the walls are paper-thin, he's pretty sure he can't be heard over the sounds.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh God, yes!”

Bloody hell.

The walls are so thin, he can hear every pant, every moan, he can hear it every goddamn time the headboard slams against the wall.

“Fuck!”

Why now? Why wait until four in the fucking morning? Or have they been at it all night?

Killian groans and grabs his headphones from his nightstand. He slips them on and plays some music, turning up the volume. He closes his eyes, trying to erase everything from his mind, but he can actually feel the wall rattling and he’s surprised the bed doesn’t come crashing through the drywall.

He curses and grabs the pillow next to him, covering his face with it. He wants to pound on the wall and tell them to shut the fuck up, but he knows he deserves it. He's done the same thing, he's brought a lass to his bed while Liam was in his room, forced to listen to every sound.

Besides, part of him wants to high-five Liam for pleasuring this woman so well and at such a late hour. He wonders how many hours they've been at it.

He's kind of proud of Liam, actually. He just hopes this one doesn't cheat on Liam like the last girlfriend did.

“Bloody… fucking... hell!” Liam groans loudly.

With one final hard thud, the noises cease.

Finally.

Killian removes the pillow from his face and is soon able to get some sleep, but only for a few hours before he's awake again.

Unable to fall back asleep, he wipes the sleep from his eyes and drags himself out of bed.

Coffee.

He's not sure if the smell wafting through the apartment is due to lack of sleep or if Liam got up and made a pot. Which would surprise him, considering all the amorous activities he engaged in last night. Killian would think he’d be exhausted after that.

As he nears the kitchen, he can hear pots and pans clanking around, so he knows he's not imagining the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the flat.

When he enters the kitchen, his eyes are immediately drawn to the coffee pot on the bar counter, and it almost appears to be glowing. “Thanks for making coffee,” he says appreciatively, opening the cupboard door to grab a mug. Though he's not sure he should be very appreciative, considering Liam's to blame for Killian's lack of sleep.

He and the little vixen he had in his bed last night.

“I barely got four hours of sleep, thanks to all the banging and screaming coming from your—” His words are frozen in midair when he turns around and sees the nearly bare ass sticking out from the refrigerator door.

That's definitely not Liam.

His girlfriend, rather.

And she’s dressed in nothing but a pair of pink laced panties and one of Liam’s oversized dress shirts.

Killian smirks and fills his cup before turning around and leaning against the counter, admiring the view while he sips his coffee. There's a half-naked blonde pillaging his refrigerator, but right now he couldn't give a fuck.

He’s too busy appreciating the view, because bloody hell, she has a dee-lectable ass.

Liam did good.

It’s a good thing she’s already been claimed by his brother because otherwise, she’d be in big trouble. Or, rather, not a good thing. It’s quite a shame, actually.

“What was that, babe?” The sweetest voice pulls Killian from his thoughts as she rises, carrying eggs and milk in her hands. She sets the items on the counter next to the refrigerator and turns around.

He lifts his gaze from her pretty ass, and when his eyes meet hers... his jaw drops to the fucking floor, his face paling. He almost drops his coffee mug.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

He has to blink a few times to make sure it’s actually her. But maybe, just maybe, he’s still sleeping, and this is all just a terrible dream.

“Killian?”

Nope. He’s wide awake.

And the woman standing in his kitchen, wearing nothing but panties and a shirt that falls just past her butt is real. And just like that, Killian’s hopes of being with this woman shatter into a million pieces.

“Emma?”

There’s a shocked expression plastered on her face, but he doubts she’s more surprised than he is right now. He had never suspected the woman making all those noises in his brother’s room to possibly be the same woman he met in the bar last week. The same woman who’s been on the forefront of his mind ever since. The same woman he’d jerked off to thoughts of only a few hours ago.

“You two know each other?” Liam’s voice sounds through the kitchen when he enters and glances between them, seeing the recognition flickering in their eyes. He walks across the kitchen and pulls a half-naked Emma into his arms, pressing her body against his. He hadn’t even bothered to throw on any clothes either and is only in his boxers.

“We met at the bar last week,” Emma answers, because apparently Killian lost his ability to speak. His brain is too occupied with the fact that Liam and Emma are together, their hands all over each other as she’s semi-straddling his thigh.

Well, fuck.

He just doesn't understand how this happened. How had his charm not worked on Emma like it had worked on so many women before her? And he was actually genuine with her. He wasn’t charming her just so he could get into her pants. He actually wanted to get to know her. Besides, even if he ended up taking her back to his flat, he had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to have just one night with her.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, the same night you and I met. He made me a Baby Yodarita.”

“A Baby Yodarita?” Liam parrots, amusement obvious in his tone.

“Yeah, I made it up based on Baby Yoda, but Killian was happy to accept the challenge.”

Liam chuckles and takes her chin in his hand, bringing her lips to his. “Of course he did. He’ll do anything for tips.”

Killian balls his hand into a fist. He didn’t make her that special drink to get a tip from her. He didn’t even charge her for the damn drink.

He wants to strangle his brother for saying that and for having his paws all over Emma, but he’s still trying to process what she’d said about meeting him the same night she met Liam. When had she met him? They weren’t there at the same time, so how did they meet? It must have been outside the bar.

Wait a bloody minute.

Killian’s eyes widen when something occurs to him. Was Liam the reason Emma never came back to him that night?

Emma’s eyes dart between them when something occurs to her too. “So, this is your brother?” she asks Liam. “You said you lived with him.”

“Aye. And I’m sorry if he startled you. I thought he’d still be sleeping.”

“It’s fine,” she assures, waving off his apology.

Wait a damn minute. Liam’s sorry she was startled? Killian was the one kept up by all the noises coming from Liam’s room.

“And what, I don’t get an apology for being kept awake by all the noises? You do realize I can hear everything through the paper-thin walls, right?”

Liam and Emma exchange blushing smiles, but neither of them seems apologetic. “Sorry, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other last night,” Liam comments, brushing his nose against hers. She smirks, displaying her total agreement as she caresses his cheek.

Killian staves off a groan of disapproval. “I gathered that,” he says casually, trying not to sound completely gutted.

“So you two must’ve met while I went on that wild goose chase David sent me on,” Liam guesses, thankfully changing the subject.

“Wild goose chase?” Killian inquires, furrowing his brows in confusion.

“Aye, it’s a funny story, actually.” Liam chuckles, his eyes glued to Emma as she smiles at him. He finally tears his gaze from her to look at Killian as he wraps his big hands around her little waist. “So before I left to run those errands I told you about, I received a text from David asking me to look after his little sister who was bar-hopping with his wife. So I get there and she’s nowhere to be found. Well, when I returned, I ran into this stunning angel just outside the bar,” he says, squeezing her hip and pulling her closer. “Well, I quickly find out, she’s David’s sister.”

“Oh,” Killian utters, still shocked by this entire set of circumstances. It made him forget little details, like the fact that Mary Margaret is her sister-in-law and therefore David is her brother.

“Anyway, she missed her Uber, and after we started talking, I offered her a ride home,” he looks at her again, with googly eyes and a blushing smile as she gazes at him with the same love-struck expression on her face, “and the rest was history.”

“Wait, so that’s why you left the bar that night? To spy on Emma?” Killian glances at her, a little pissed she’d put up with Liam stalking her. “And you weren’t pissed at him for that?”

“A little, at first,” she admits shyly, “but more so at my brother for asking him to spy on me in the first place. Besides, look at this face,” she says, cupping Liam’s chin in her hand as she smiles at him. “How could I possibly be mad at a face like this?” He grins and leans in, capturing her lips with his.

Killian wants to ask her exactly when she left the bar, but he’s afraid of what the answer would be. He stares at Liam, wondering why he never mentioned her. “So, why did you tell me you weren’t seeing anyone when I asked you about it?” Okay, and part of him is hoping to get him in trouble with her.

But instead of looking pissed, guilt flashes in her eyes. Like she had something to do with it.

Liam eyes his brother apologetically. “We didn’t want to tell anyone about us yet. David’s my good mate and we don’t know exactly how he’ll take the news when he finds out about us. He’s very protective of Emma, if you couldn’t already tell. So we haven’t told anyone.”

Killian scoffs. “Since when haven’t you been able to tell me anything without worrying I wouldn’t keep your secret?”

“I know, I know. I should’ve just told you. I shouldn’t have lied.” He gazes at Emma again, a little more serious now as he caresses her cheek. “But I could tell right away Emma was something special, and I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize my chance to be with her.” Emma blushes and smiles as he rests his forehead against hers. “ Very special,” he emphasizes, brushing his thumb over her button lip.

She presses a palm against his chest. “I could tell you were, too,” she says sweetly, as though they’re having an intimate conversation. As though Killian’s not even in the room, inwardly dying inside. If only Liam knew what this was doing to his brother.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” Killian assures them, trying to disguise how unnerved he is that she picked Liam over him.

Liam pulls his head back suddenly, as though he just realized something. “Wait, you mean to tell me you saw Killian first that night?” he asks her.

“Yeah… why?” she asks dubiously.

A slow smile crawls over his lips as he looks at Killian. “Because, I think this is the first time someone has actually seen my little brother first and ended up with me, instead of the other way around.”

Emma cocks a brow, intrigued by this. “Really?”

Killian doesn’t even bother to correct Liam for calling him little brother. He’s too busy seeing red.

“Aye. Most women prefer the bad boy type over the nice guy,” he says with a smile. “But not you. If I didn't know you were a keeper then, I sure as hell do now.” He presses the pad of his thumb against her chin and kisses her forehead.

Killian thinks he’s going to be sick as he watches them.

This is all wrong.

It was supposed to be him taking Emma home. It was supposed to be him bringing her pleasure over and over again until both of them were sweaty and exhausted and yet still couldn't keep their hands off each other. It was supposed to be him standing in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her half-naked body and kissing her shamelessly as his brother watched.

It wasn’t supposed to be the other way around.

Killian can’t get over the irony of it all. The irony of him jerking off and fantasizing about the same goddamn woman Liam was having sex with right down the hall.

It makes him wonder how many times Liam's been in this exact position. How many times had he laid his eyes on a lass, only to come home and find her in his brother’s arms? How many times had Liam touched himself with thoughts of a woman in his head before finding out she was messing around with his brother?

He’s not sure; all he knows is karma's a bitch.

“I should probably start breakfast before the milk and eggs get spoiled,” Emma says when she notices the items are still on the counter.

“I told you I would make breakfast,” Liam says as she saunters over to crack open the egg carton.

She smirks at him over her shoulder. “You already gave me a hot breakfast in bed.”

Liam quirks a brow. “When would I have done that? You were in my arms until you got up to use the bathroom.”

Killian takes a sip of his coffee, grimacing as he tries to block out their conversation. They’ve only been together for a week and already act like a fucking married couple.

“True, but before that, you gave me some delicious sausage.”

Killian chokes on his coffee and spits it out. Do they not realize he’s still in the room?”

“What the bloody hell, Killian?” Liam upbraids as he inspects Emma to make sure none of the coffee spilled on her.

But Killian only got it on himself. He curtly slams the coffee mug on the counter and walks across the kitchen with clenched teeth, ripping a piece of paper towel from the roll to wipe off the coffee he spit out.

“Sorry,” Emma says after realizing she probably shouldn’t have made the sausage remark with Liam’s brother in the room.

You think?

“Why are you sorry? I’m not,” Liam murmurs against her ear and grabs her hips from behind as she tries to crack some eggs into a bowl. “You can taste my sausage anytime.”

She looks over at him and smirks. “Hmmm, I like the idea of that. But right now, it’s my turn to make you breakfast.”

Liam growls and spins her around, picking her up like she weighs nothing, and placing her on the counter. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, gently biting her there, his words muffled against her skin as his hands slide up her thighs and under the hem of the shirt she’s wearing. “I can think of something else I’d rather eat.”

That’s it.

Killian’s going to vomit. He tosses the paper towel into the trash and storms out of the kitchen, his face probably green from how ill he’s feeling right now.

How the bloody hell did this happen?

“Killian.”

The sound of his name coming from her lips causes his jaw to clench. She and Liam seemed so lovesick, Killian’s surprised they were able to tear themselves away from each other for two bloody seconds.

When he spins around to face her, Emma’s holding his mug in her hands, her eyes flickering with apology. “You forgot this,” she says, offering it to him.

“Thanks but I can’t stomach anything at the moment,” he grumbles, sounding angrier than he had intended.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, probably so Liam can't hear her. “I didn’t know he was your brother.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s not like you and I were ever together,” he says bitterly as his eyes drop to the mug she’s holding. “On second thought, I’ll take that.” He grabs the coffee from Emma’s hands and gulps it down, since it’s no longer hot. Emma doesn’t speak as she stares at him, probably unsure of what to say.

Killian lowers the mug and gives her a hard look before turning around and heading to the bathroom, deciding he needs another shower. After what he’d done in the shower while thinking of Emma and then after what he’d witnessed and heard in the kitchen, he feels filthy all over, almost as if he’s covered in slimy worms. He has to scrub himself down since he can’t scrub away the images that will now be permanently burned in his brain.

The images of Liam and the girl Killian wants but knows he can never have.

Fuck… my… life.

Tagging people who have shown interest. Let me know if you would like to be added or if I missed you. @itsfabianadocarmo @resident-of-storybrooke @snowbellewells @onceuponaprincessworld @viajandosinalas @teamhook @captainswan-shipper88 @jamif @katielovesstarcrossedlovers @uhthreeyuh @lfh1226-linda @babyyouremyqueen @sthonour @julesep3026 @fairytalewhispersinmyheart @andiirivera @wefoundloveunderthelight @wickedsw4n @eleveneitherway @eherron14 @ouatpost @transparentclodsludgeweasel

#cs ff #captain swan #jewelled swan #my fic #through the rising tide

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lightsandlostbells · 3 years

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wtFOCK season 3, episode 5 reaction

This whole episode I kept doing that Marge Simpson groan. You know, the one that’s like tight-lipped and this low, exasperated mmm from deep in the throat? That was me constantly.

Episode 5

Clip 1 - Jens gives Robbe sex advice

Robbe texts his mom and says to her he can’t visit, lying that it’s because he’s sick. One repeated element that does exist in this season is Robbe listening to music on his headphones, which is him retreating into himself, or using music to cope. The song lyrics reflect that: “I used to feel so alone, now I’m feeling better on my own.”

Since I’ve been trying to think of ways to rewrite this season, they could expand Robbe using music as a coping strategy even further. Music should have been something that Robbe bonds with Sander over. And not just Sander’s recommendation of Bowie, either, which is all they’ve done so far - it seems like Robbe should give recs or insight as well. Talk about how important music is to him with Sander. Make it a serious point in their developing relationship.

Jens skates up and talks to Robbe. Robbe wants to get high, but Jens doesn’t have weed with him at the moment. He asks Robbe if he’s thought about the Brrrothers, because they’re not the same without Robbe. Robbe snaps and turns away from him, then lies and says his bad mood is about Noor. Jens has already heard that they’re fighting.

Jens’ talk to Robbe, knowing that Noor wants to have sex and Robbe doesn’t, is actually pretty sweet. Even though he doesn’t understand the real reason why Robbe doesn’t want to, his talk is thoughtful and not shaming Robbe for being a nervous virgin, it’s considerate of him. Considering the Brrrothers have been obnoxious about sex and girls all season, this was a refreshing change. One question I do have is how Jens knew that Noor wanted sex and Robbe didn’t, but I guess it was implied that this explanation was part of the rumor mill.

Of course, the downside is that Jens’ advice prompts Robbe to text Noor about how he misses her and wants to meet up. Bad, Robbe! I don’t know if Jens’ talk encouraged Robbe to text her because Robbe was like “Yeah, I’m supposed to like Noor, better get back on that,” or because maybe he genuinely told himself, “I just don’t want to have sex with her because I’m nervous, yeah, that must be it,” and decided to just move forward with it.

I do like drama that comes from characters trying to be helpful but unintentionally saying or doing the wrong thing - that’s what happens in the locker room scene with Isak and Even. When Isak says he’s better off without mentally ill people in his life, he’s telling Even this as a way of saying that his mother won’t cause problems for them, he doesn’t care what she’ll think of them dating. So taken on its own, I think this scene is fine.

HOWEVER. The pacing of this season is again, SO SO weird, because this scene would have fit right in around episodes 2-3? Right after Robbe tried and failed to have sex with Noor, you know ... the first time? Or the second, or the third? Like … have it be in line with Isak’s episode 3 sexuality crisis, all the “why does he have to be so gay” stuff. It would’ve worked well to have this talk at like, the beginning of episode 3, and then have Robbe making the “that guy is so gay” comment as an unintentional result of this - by trying to convince himself he is just straight and nervous and distancing himself from being gay. We had three entire scenes of Robbe failing to fuck Noor, so narratively, why did we need to wait this long for Jens to talk to him about it?

Clip 2 - AGAIN?

Robbe invites Noor over to bone. He’s lit about a million candles and is trying to make this a big romantic deal, except lmao, he has on David Bowie’s Life on Mars … Robbe … what u doing…

Actually, I’m not sure if this is diegetic music or not, if Robbe is blasting Bowie from his phone as mood music or if he’s only hearing this song inside his head. I think we’re definitely meant to take away that Robbe is hearing the song since it gets distorted as he slinks down Noor’s body, and that it’s not just there for the audience. In either case, Sander is supposedly the shadow hanging over this sad hetero affair.

Tbh listening to Life on Mars is the best part of this season and I wish I could just like … listen to this song play against a black screen instead of watching poorly written, repetitive clips.

They start to get it on and he takes off her shirt, unhooks her bra, yadda yadda, he doesn’t look happy but he soldiers on and it’s implied they went All The Way. On the one hand, I will rage if they actually had sex. On the other hand, if they don’t, it’s yet another clip where the same shit happens, Robbe tries to bang Noor and fails..

Clip 3 - Robbe’s not turned on by Noor and this is BRAND NEW INFORMATION

… okay, so he didn’t have sex with her AGAIN? He couldn’t get it up?

For fuck’s sake. I mean, on the one hand I’m glad it was actually Robbe’s choice (apparently) to put a stop to the sex instead of like, someone else walking in and interrupting yet again, but on the other hand, I feel like we have done this scene SO MUCH. We KNOW. About the only thing that’s changed I guess is that Robbe kissed a boy and now he’s trying to be straight? If this was only like the second time this scene had happened, it would have been fine.

I just don’t have a coherent idea of Robbe’s arc. This season is going in circles.

Anyway, Robbe couldn’t get it up, Noor is sympathetic, she asks if it’s her, Robbe says she’s amazing, he looks sad and haunted blah blah we’ve already seen this play out.

Why were these separate clips? In the first clip, we have Robbe seemingly determined to have sex with Noor, and then in the second, he can’t get it up. So why not SHOW THE MOMENT OF CHANGE? Are these filmmakers on drugs? This is storytelling 101. Like there’s no reason to split up these clips except to cause a bit of anxiety if you happen to be able to watch the clips at the exact time they’re posted, and from a real-time perspective I get it, but that’s ineffective for the vast majority of people who will have to watch later and then will watch these two clips together at the same time. I mean, the fact that it’s not even 10 minutes in between clips … just SHOW THE WHOLE SCENE. Holy fuck. How are they this incompetent?

The pacing of the scenes themselves is so weird. So many of the clips are oddly short, we don’t NEED them to be split into parts. It makes me really appreciate Julie’s pacing: Skam S3 episodes had 4-6 clips each, and in those clips, we got rich scenes packed with details, often multi-tasking within different story threads. wtFOCK’s pacing is simplistic and choppy and unnecessary.

Clip 4 - Milan gives Robbe a pep talk

Robbe is Googling erectile dysfunction which is honestly kind of funny (but again, probably would have been a better fit for earlier in this season, before Robbe had already kissed a dude ...) Milan comes in wanting advice on two shirts, Robbe is annoyed.

Milan tries to get Robbe to talk to him. It takes some prodding (and I do like how Robbe is swiveling in his chair and not looking at Milan) but Robbe admits there’s a guy who likes him and, after Milan asks, admits that it’s mutual.

Tbh … I don’t find it so hard to believe that Robbe opened up to Milan even though they’re not anywhere as close as Eskild and Isak, because I do think another gay guy is a “safe” person to talk to about this situation and I can see Robbe doing it. What I do NOT get is why, here and now, Robbe is now openly admitting it. Why did we go from Robbe trying to fuck a girl and, before that, calling the boy he kissed a pervert and a homophobic slur, to admitting his attraction for a boy? Why the sudden turnaround? Based on the clips themselves, all we have to go off as a turning point is that he couldn’t fuck Noor, BUT this is nothing new for either Robbe and the audience, AND not being able to fuck a girl does not actually mean that Robbe would be able to fuck a guy, or that he’s into guys, and it especially doesn’t mean that Robbe would accept that he likes a guy. I mean, he’s Googling “erectile dysfunction” not “am I gay?” which tbh seems still more like denial than anything. He’s blaming his lack of arousal on a medical issue, not his sexuality.

This scene would feel more true to me if Robbe was like, downplaying his side of it, or playing it off as only Sander had feelings and it wasn’t requited. That’s more in line with the characterization we have just been given, that Robbe is denying his attraction to Sander.

Another way would be to not split up the sex clip and to show like, Robbe flashing back to his kiss with Sander while he’s making out with Noor, so we get that it’s not just that he’s not into Noor, it’s that he’s very into Sander, and we see him grudgingly admit to himself that yes, he’s attracted to Sander (at the very least.) which would make it believable that he admits it to Milan. Cause and effect, etc.

MIlan is like, are you so nervous to tell me you have a crush on another guy (...????? um, yes, Milan, you have to know it’s hard to come out???) but is pretty supportive and says Robbe’s lucky to have him, Milan would have wanted himself when he was going through this. Robbe is just like, I don’t know what I feel and I want everything to be normal, there’s too much shit going on right now. Milan says Robbe IS normal and he doesn’t want to bottle up who he is, the pressure will get too real and he’ll explode, he’ll hurt people. Robbe seems to take this advice seriously, so hopefully this scene will actually lead to cause + effect.

Again, this scene is fine on its own? There’s just something about the pacing of the season as a whole that feels strange.

I don’t know if this is supposed to be the equivalent of the Pride clip, because Robbe doesn’t say anything offensive and Milan didn’t get upset. Milan’s advice is good about not pushing away who you really are, but there’s nothing specifically confronting internalized homophobia, which Robbe desperately needs seeing as he’s had some extremely homophobic outbursts. I think it’s a shame to lose that part of the scene, because it’s got a very pointed and urgent message. (EDIT from the future: We got the Pride clip later in the episode, so that’s good.)

Clip 5 - Robbe tells Jens he likes someone else

Robbe is sitting on the sidelines listening to music again. Jens comes over and asks how things are, Robbe says he took his advice with Noor and Jens is happy that he’s a matchmaker. Robbe is like no, there’s someone else. He says he thought it would go away, but it didn’t.

For a moment it seems like this might be a sudden coming out scene, but Jens finally asks who it is and Robbe clams up and finds it hard to get out. Jens asks if she goes to their school. Robbe is saved by Moyo wanting to play a game against some guys.

This is some plausible conflict, at the very least, Robbe not being able to tell his friends that he’s into a guy. It would have been way better to focus on this instead of Robbe flinging a slur at Sander. Robbe’s friends seem like the clearest explanation for his internalized homophobia.

Now Jens needs to follow up on this development, or else turn in his Jonas card. Because there’s dropping the subject if he senses Robbe doesn’t want to tell him yet, and then there’s forgetting about the subject because Jens isn’t that engaged with what’s happening with Robbe, and unfortunately the latter vibe has come across far more than the first. Like why does it seem like Jens is always walking away?

Clip 6 - Robbe breaks up with Noor

Old Town Road is playing as Noor meets Robbe in a cafe. One thing I do notice is that there are a fair amount of gay musicians on the soundtrack this season, so that’s cool.

Robbe is stressed because we can tell he’s gonna try to break up with Noor. He doesn’t order anything to eat. Noor is sympathetic about him not getting it up with her, but Robbe says he needs some time for himself, he has so much shit on his mind. Noor says she can help with that, he’s like nah, Noor is crying and reaching for him desperately. He gets up and walks out.

L O L I heard all about how Robbe supposedly handled this better than Isak, and I mean … on the one hand, I certainly agree that he did Noor a solid by officially breaking up with her and not just running away from her in the hallway. But er ... first of all, Robbe went wayyyyyyyyy farther with Noor than Isak EVER did with Emma. Robbe and Noor had an actual relationship for what, a month? Isak and Emma made out twice and flirted a bit. They were not exclusively, seriously dating. So yeah, Noor is owed this breakup.

Second, Robbe still cheated on her with Sander before he broke up with her. The fact that they were naked while they made out in the pool frankly adds an on-screen sexual element to the cheating. And technically Isak making out with Even in the pool was not cheating … for sure it was a dick move to lead on Emma and then ditch her like that, I’m not going to say it was NBD, but like I said, they weren’t exclusively dating. I mean, in all my years of Skam fandom, it’s pretty rare that I’ve heard anyone refer to what Isak did as cheating - it’s usually talked about differently than Even cheating on Sonja. Robbe and Sander BOTH cheated on their girlfriends here.

Third, it’s nice he did this with Noor but lmao, kinda small potatoes considering what Robbe said to Sander.

Fourth, Robbe just gets up and leaves while she’s crying, lol. He let her order soup and then he ditched her! That’s cold as ice! Bro, you need to stick around until she tells you to leave, or you needed to pick a breakup location where both of you can leave ASAP without someone coming by with the meal you ordered.

And to be clear, I don’t think Robbe not handling this perfectly makes him a terrible person or anything. It’s more the comparison to Isak with how Isak is supposedly worse and Robbe is much nicer. Nah.

Sucks for Noor and all, but whyyyy are they making the Emma character so tragic and emphasizing this het relationship so much? We don’t even end the clip on Robbe’s POV. Because how he feels about this breakup doesn’t matter, I guess. Does he feel guilty? Free? Unsure? Conflicted? IDK because we close on her, not him! I’m sorry, but it’s not her season!

I mentioned this in an earlier reaction but I’m just super tired of gay storylines that have this intense focus on how much someone being gay hurts a straight person. I believe I mentioned Love, Victor as a prominent example, because Victor’s relationship with his girlfriend seemingly gets more screen time than the relationship with his actual male love interest. And I get why this storyline is relevant to a coming out arc, of course I do, but it really bugs me when the het relationship seems to overshadow the gay relationship, as it does here. At this point I feel like Robbe/Noor has been given equal plot relevance as Robbe/Sander, if not more, and that should not be the case. It’s not about shipping, it’s about wanting a story about a gay kid’s journey of self-acceptance to focus more on the life-changing love story that is the catalyst for embracing his sexuality, than the fake passion-less relationship that is doomed to failure that is just a momentary stumble in said journey of self-acceptance. There is no need to demonize Noor, but there is actually a middle ground between treating her with respect and empathy and making her the real victim of this story.

This narrative choice also does not exist in a vacuum. It is completely fair to be skeptical of the prioritization of a het relationship over a gay one. It’s fair to wonder why we’ve gotten multiple scenes of Robbe getting hot and heavy with a girl, why Robbe spends a pivotal clip being so sad about Noor that he doesn’t seem to really notice or care that he’s alone with the guy he supposedly likes.

I mean, fuck, Robbe seems more upset about hurting Noor’s feelings by breaking up with her for legitimate reasons than he does about hurting Sander’s feelings by calling him a f*g and accusing him of sexual assault.

Clip 7 - Robbe tries to speak with Sander

Robbe goes to school (not his school, Sander’s) and asks where the art room is. He’s in a way better mood, a spring in his step, but LMAO you better pray that Sander actually wants to talk to you rather than kick your ass or avoid you for all eternity because of what you said to him.

Sander is sketching a nude male model. Robbe seems happy just to see him. He walks away and goes to the bathroom, fixes his hair, stares in the mirror, takes a deep breath. Then he goes up to Sander after the bell rings. Robbe wants to talk, Sander is not having it and walks away. Robbe is sad, angsty music plays.

Uhhhhh, serves you right? No offense but I can’t even feel sad for Robbe in this scenario, because what he did crossed a line. Internalized homophobia is a hell of a drug, but there’s such a difference between Robbe just denying that the kiss meant anything or blaming it on being drunk or whatever, and essentially accusing Sander of sexual assault and calling him a slur. It’s not an ignorant mistake, it’s a malicious one. I feel bad that Robbe ever had such self-hatred that he made those comments in the first place and I certainly don’t hate him or think he should be forever alone, but it is 100% understandable why Sander would not want to speak to him after that.

Also, going up to Sander at his school was not the best move, because he’s basically ambushing him. Sander doesn’t have a choice whether to deal with Robbe in that moment. It would’ve been better if Robbe sent him some kind of apology text or voicemail first and left it up to Sander whether he wanted to meet. I get that’s not as good for televised dramaaaa, but it’s kinder to Sander. (And if Sander doesn’t respond, or if he’s blocked Robbe, well, those are just consequences of Robbe’s actions that he’ll have to live with.) EDIT: Robbe actually did contact Sander first via text, wanting to meet up so he could explain. That does make it somewhat better, although I still think he shouldn’t have approached him at school. If Sander doesn’t want to talk to you? Then give him space. Maybe he’ll be willing to hear you out in time, or maybe he’ll decide he’s better off without you, but Robbe’s the one who did something wrong and it’s not up to Robbe whether Sander forgives him.

Clip 8 - Robbe and Sander make up and kiss

Angsty music keeps playing as Robbe walks home. He sees a mom and her kids playing, more sadness presumably due to his own family troubles.

Sander has followed him and says he has five minutes. Robbe’s like “Why don’t you want to talk?” LMAO IDK ROBBE, WHAT COULD IT BE.

Robbe says he’s sorry and that he loves Sander. LMAO WHAT. Is this a nuance of translation where “I love you” isn’t as strong as it is in English? Are you kidding me?

First of all … he LOVES Sander when they’ve barely interacted? They’ve spoken only a handful of times. Hell, they only met in episode 3, and this is episode 5. It’s been like two weeks since they’ve met, and while I could buy that some ships fell in love in that short of time, this is sure as fuck not one of them.

Second … Robbe goes from shoving Sander and calling him horrible things and trying to fuck Noor, to professing his love for Sander, WITHIN DAYS? And this is the character who’s supposed to have a big coming out arc? What is nuance, what is good writing, what is a coherent idea of this character’s struggles with his sexuality and himself... The talk with Milan might convince Robbe to accept his feelings, but it would make way more sense if Robbe was more tentative about them. He doesn’t need to come out swinging the big epic declarations in order to accept his romantic interest in Sander.

Like this isn’t even based on what I personally think is believable for a romance, this is based on what wtFOCK has told me about this character! They made the choice to make him say more viciously homophobic things. They made the choice to have him go back to Noor and try to have sex with her for the millionth time.

I’m glad that Sander doesn’t buy the confession at first, at least.

Robbe says that he was really fucked up and hat Sander is the first dude. There is a cute moment where he’s like “that kiss (mimes fireworks)” but then things went Chernobyl. Would have been great if we saw exactly what made him go Chernobyl and make him regret the kiss. He says he’s sorry but asks for one more chance.

Sander steps in, leans in for a kiss. “What about Chernobyl?” “Fuck Chernobyl.” They kiss, it’s really sweet, but lol they’re kissing in public??? Robbe is ok with this?? I just have abso-fucking-lutely no idea where this kid’s head is. Like ... how is he so cool with this considering where he was just days ago? Apparently Robbe’s internalized homophobia was so extreme that he was all “get away from me f*g” toward Sander with no clear catalyst, but also not so extreme that it couldn’t be fixed with a pep talk from Milan? Okay!

This scene would have been totally fine if Robbe’s mistake was less cruel and amounted to blocking Sander or telling him to stay away or w/e. It doesn’t feel satisfying for what Robbe actually did say.

Also, sigh, because Sander did forgive Robbe just like that, and I don’t buy it. I mean, if anything, it makes me sad for Sander. I want to tell him that he deserves better. I suppose I can buy this as part of his fear that no one will ever love him, that he’s desperate to be accepted and loved and so is quick to forgive.

It would have made more sense for Robbe to have a longer period of self-reflection, have him come out to his friends, etc. and then reunite with Sander an episode or so later, similar to how Isak and Even reunited at the end of episode 7. Or to have Sander take some time before letting Robbe talk to him, during which Robbe works on his own issues.

Sander gets a call from Britt, which he ignores, saying Britt’s the past, he and Robbe are the future (as the song lyrics talk about the future and the past … they’re going pretty on the nose this season. Fine by me, OG was also on the nose.) Lmao but Robbe has no right to be upset about Britt after he explicitly told Sander to stay away. I mean, it’s dubious of Sander to keep dating her after cheating, but he also thought Robbe was no longer an option sooo don’t be surprised Sander is still with her, dude.

Sander goes to meet Britt, but not before some make outs, some handholding. I think their chemistry is good! It’s just that I don’t really buy the depth of this relationship. It legit makes me sad that these actors are getting served this half-assed material.

Clip 9 - Zoë gets a letter

Robbe goes home and gets a text from Sander, with a sketch of them, saying their kiss was Chernobyl. Well, that’s cute.

Milan is telling Zoë about seeing some straight-looking dude on the bus who melted when Milan looked at him. Robbe is in a good mood and is gonna do the cooking. Milan observes that he’s happy and asks if things went well with his (Robbe looks toward Zoë) “lovely girlfriend”. At least Milan covered for him! (EDIT from the future: Ahahaha, funny considering how casually people out Robbe this season...)

Robbe hands Zoë some mail that turns out to do with Viktor, the apparent Nikolai in this version, about the case going to court. She has to testify. She is upset and walks out of the kitchen.

I complained a bit about Zoë/Senne drama taking up time in Robbe’s season, but to be clear, I have no problem with them following up on this plot point from S2. It’s a hugely important story. But I also think it works best if you integrate it into Robbe’s story, by drawing a parallel to their situations, finding a common theme, etc. And it depends on whether Robbe’s story is otherwise satisfactory, because if the writing is pretty tight, I’m not really bothered by digressions in other characters’ subplots.

Clip 10 - Robbe and Sander get cozy

Oh hey, it’s the big cuddling clip! Robbe and Sander goof off, pillow fight, smoke a joint, make out. Mostly make out. Sander shows Robbe a sketch of him (Robbe) and implies how good it would look on a wall (big).

Robbe’s fave actor is Leonardo DiCaprio, because hasn’t Sander seen Romeo + Juliet? It’s fucking beautiful.

Man, on the one hand, sick Skam reference, and it’s just a simple, cute little nod to OG, not something complicated. I can dig that. But on the other hand, now I’m annoyed at how Isak got all of this beautiful development and watching R+J actually meant something for his character, and Robbe has absolutely nothing like that. Stuff like the fact it’s Robbe who likes R+J instead of Sander, WHICH IS FINE, but like … doesn’t say anything about Robbe’s view on masculinity or w/e, doesn’t do much for his characterization.

Sander takes pics of Robbe. Their chemistry is cute. Once again I despair at gifted actors being given subpar material leading up to this clip.

LMAO at them copying the dialogue from OG, Sander being all life is like a movie. Again, irrationally annoyed because this dialogue MEANT something to Even. Even was a huge film buff and an aspiring director. Sander hasn’t mentioned movies at all, he’s into art and David Bowie and photography. So why not have Sander quote some Bowie lyrics that explain his thoughts on life? Mention what art means to him? Personalize this dialogue so that it’s specific to Sander. Or, if you’re going to borrow this chunk of dialogue, at least establish Sander as a film enthusiast prior to this clip.

Also that Isak brought up the multiverse theory because he was smart and inquisitive, but I have no idea who the fuck Robbe is. Does this make sense with Robbe’s prior characterization? Shrug.

I do like the multiverse reference to Spider-Man because HELL YEAH Into the Spider-Verse!!! Fucking masterpiece! I could be watching that for the 20th time instead of the upcoming gay-bashing hate crime.

I do like Sander’s acting in this scene and his reaction, how the music (“Ocean Eyes”) stops when Sander starts talking about multiverse theory. His dialogue is a little different here than OG, about thinking about what he’s done and wondering why he thinks something, his thoughts never stop, which fits in with bipolar disorder.

Robbe notices he’s a little agitated, Sander says the only way to stop your thoughts is from dying. So I guess we’re putting in the suicidal thoughts in this version?

“Sometimes I forget how young you are.” Are they the same age in this version? Lmao. It’s a joke so it’s not a big deal.

Robbe starts kissing him and asks when Sander fell for him. Sander is like, before you! When Robbe was spraying the graffiti he knew Robbe was the one. Robbe is like … you were there??

I mean. this is cute and all, but doesn’t it kinda take away from later events, if Sander goes back to Britt, then like … knowing Sander has been Pining All Along should create way less doubt in Robbe’s mind? When Even went back to Sonja, there was room for actual doubt in Isak’s mind (and the audience’s) about the sincerity of Even’s feelings. I think people forgot that the “I saw you the first day of school” moment at the end of the season was a surprise. I was in the fandom and I don’t think a lot of people thought Even had fallen for Isak that early. So Robbe now knows that Sander fell for him well before they even talked, doesn’t that remove some of the tension about Sander’s motives? I suppose it depends on how the story goes from here, but if it’s similar to OG, then I think it slightly lessens the ambiguity and tension.

Also, another reason why it would have been good to actually see the graffiti scene play out in episode 1… and to see what Robbe tagged on the wall … come on. COME ONNNN. Let’s see what got Sander’s attention! Did Robbe create something funny or clever or insightful? Wouldn’t that have been a great detail to show their connection? This is basic storytelling, hello?

I guess if I’m being fair, we don’t know exactly what Even saw in Isak that first day of school, either. But then again, we didn’t see the first day of school in a clip, while we definitely saw the graffiti scene. Just a missed opportunity, IMO.

They kiss and Sander gets a text from Britt. According to Sander, he told Britt about him and Robbe, but she doesn’t believe him, which is what I assumed of Sonja too, btw. At least, that’s what I thought at Emma’s party where she initiated the kiss with Even. Sander says Britt is so controlling. Robbe seems uncertain.

Sander says there’s probably another universe where Sander is still with Britt, but he’s glad to be in this universe. I do like this part.

Clip 11 - Milan schools Robbe on Pride

Robbe’s alarm goes off in the morning. He smiles a bit, though, presumably because he’s got Sander in his life. He gets a good morning text from Sander, which is cute and makes him smile more. Goes into the bathroom and Milan is there. Sander texts Robbe that he’s been thinking about him in all universes, Robbe is happy.

Milan is like, when can I meet your boyfriend??? Robbe says soon. Awww, this interaction is pretty sweet. Milan is like, welcome to the club! You know, “our” club meaning dudes who like dudes.

Robbe is like, just because I’m with Sander doesn’t mean I belong to some club, I’m not like you. Milan is like … and how am I? Robbe gives the usual Isak-ish response of dressing up and talking about BJs, Milan gets upset. Robbe says there’s nothing wrong with being gay but when people think of being gay, they think of that and it’s not fair to those who aren’t like that. Robbe’s not going to put on leather pants and dance at pride just because he likes Sander!

Milan gets very upset and goes into the Pride speech. I always appreciate this scene and I’m grateful that it’s one thing the remakes don’t really fuck with, since it’s so important (I think the remakes all recognize that it’s amazing, heh).

Senne wanting to use the bathroom is kind of a jarring thing, they should’ve just let the moment sink in.

Robbe takes a Good Hard Look at himself in the mirror which is on the nose but like, better than nothing. I think there was a mirror earlier in the season? I confess that I’m so hung up on the basic writing fumbles that I might be missing stuff that’s actually supposed to be symbolic.

Anyway, all things considered, I think they did fine with this clip. Robbe coming out to Milan earlier in the episode did help pave the way for this talk since they didn’t have the close relationship as Isak and Eskild. Like, any issues I might have with it are related to the bigger issues in the season, but on its own, I felt like it was decent, and the “welcome to the club” comment is something I can believe Milan would say and something that would make Robbe reply with a boneheaded comment.

Clip 12 - This fucking scene

Robbe and Sander flirt in a bar and get touchy-feely with each other. For some baffling choice, we start with some rap/hip-hop song and then it cuts to “Two Men In Love” by The Irrepressibles … like … you could just start the clip with that song instead of this weird non-transition?

They kiss and then move outside the bar and then kiss and cuddle some more (again … I ask, where did Robbe’s boldness with gay PDA come from ...) Robbe jumps on Sander for a piggyback ride. They kiss passionately in the street.

Ahahahahahahahahah HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAA FUCK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

Some homophobes spot them and call them slurs. Robbe and Sander try to grab their bikes and quickly leave. The bigots manage to grab them and beat the shit out of them. It’s really brutal, like we get POV shots from the ground as the guys kick them. The guys call them f****ts once more before leaving Robbe and Sander crumpled on the ground in the fetal position. The wheels on the bike go round and round.

I mean … where do you even start.

OK, I’ll start here: worst decision made in a Skam S3 remake yet.

“Yeah, Skam season 3 was a masterpiece and all, but you know what I could have used more of? Violent gay-bashing,” said no one ever.

I don’t get triggered by media, not really, but boy am I glad I was spoiled for this. Because I do get fucking angry at media. And I’m angry now, but if I was watching this unspoiled? Man, I would’ve popped a couple of blood vessels. And I feel so, so sorry for people who watched this unprepared and were triggered. Because yeah, it is a remake and not 100% like the original, you can’t predict everything that will happen. But this isn’t something that you expect in S3, because you expect the writers to know enough to leave this shit out. This isn’t made with kind intentions for the audience, it’s made for shock value.

Consider that the WHOLE POINT of this very, very short clip is the hate crime, btw. It’s like two minutes long! They dropped a clip just for a cute kissing montage and then to interrupt it with a brutal beating! Something about that makes it even more repugnant than if it were like … a long involved scene about something else, and this happened. IDK, something about it feels even more tasteless, like this beating is their cinematic setpiece.

The first-person POV of the beating = not necessary. Like of ALL the fucking times in your season to actually give a shit about the importance of POV, lmao. This isn’t a video game. I’m not shooting zombies or getting jumped by bandits.

Remember when Skam faded to black on Noora’s blackout? And cut away from Even walking naked out of the hotel? Yeah, there are plot and POV reasons for those, but they were also ways to respect the audience and not include pointlessly triggering, exploitative material.

There’s just so much to say about this bad choice that I’m at a loss. Why did we need to go here? In particular, why did we need to go here knowing how the rest of the season plays out? Because for me, that’s what clinches this as a terrible decision. This isn’t a shitty scene with a satisfying follow-up. The resolution - or non-resolution, as it turns out - of this plot development is what exposes wtFOCK’s true character.

There is an AMAZING Evak vid set to Two Men In Love and I recommend you watch it to get the bad taste out of your mouth from this scene.

HOW I WOULD REWRITE THIS EPISODE:

Sigh.

This is just textbook bad writing for coming out stories, not to mention packed full of tired cliches.

Closeted gay guy is violently homophobic (Robbe calls his love interest homophobic slurs and accuses him of being a pervert) - I’m sorry but I am so tired of the “dating your bully” trope and this is what it fell into for me. Why should Sander take back Robbe after that? After Sander told Robbe he was afraid no one would ever love him?

Gay-bashing For The Drama, to make sure you know homophobia is bad, really bad.

Overemphasis on the heterosexual love interest (“love interest”) and how it’s hurtful to her, like I get that it’s a delicate topic with not demonizing her, but I always feel like there is SO much interest on straight characters in these stories! It’s not about them!

The hate crime has to go. Really. What is even the POINT of it in this particular story? As if there wasn’t enough angst in S3? Especially if you consider: they wasted a few episodes on repetitive nonsense. Their pacing is fucked up. And now you have to insert this monumentally offensive storyline and its fallout into a season already full of problems? Next.

Okay, I will offer ONE way to incorporate the hate crime, and that is simple: Make the rest of the season about the fallout. Similar to Noora’s season with her assault, dive deep into the trauma, spend a few episodes with Robbe and Sander recovering, telling their friends about it, going to the police about it. Cut back on other drama from S3. Don’t fuck around with Sander going back to Britt, unless you tie it in directly to him being afraid to date a guy after the hate crime. Don’t fuck around with Noor outing Robbe considering he has enough shit on his plate. If you want to bring her back, make her support him through the trauma. Honestly? Don’t fuck around with the hotel incident. Like I truly hate to lose Sander’s mental illness as a vital part of the season, but adding a full-blown manic episode on top of gay-bashing is way too much misery porn. I think you could probably show how the hate crime and resulting trauma affect Sander’s mental state without pushing it into full-blown wandering the streets naked while manic.

Do I particularly like this plot? I mean, no, not compared to the original, and I feel like this is better off as its own thing rather than a S3 adaptation. But at the very least, I can see the attempt to take the hate crime seriously. You cannot just throw in this type of scenario to shake things up and leave it at that. This show is specifically made for teenagers, to take their struggles seriously and to give them positive examples of how to handle problems. If you prioritize the violent act itself because it’s dramatic and shocking, rather than the recovery (because that’s like, boring and uninteresting, amirite), then you’ve shown your ass. You don’t understand the purpose or the appeal of Skam in the first place.

Jumping ahead, I think this is exactly where wtFOCK exposes its true intentions. wtFOCK does not care about helping vulnerable teenagers find solutions to tough problems. wtFOCK does not care about healing or educating. wtFOCK is about shaking the audience so hard that viewers get whiplash. If wtFOCK gave a shit about helping the audience, the rest of the season would focus on Robbe and Sander dealing with the assault, giving them options to report it, showing them ways to cope with the trauma. Things that might help audience members who unfortunately also found themselves victims of hate crimes or homophobic violence. Those are not present in the rest of the season. It’s just a fucking soap opera.

If you MUST have a homophobic incident to go with your dark ‘n’ edgy season, you can still limit it to some assholes yelling homophobic slurs without resorting to violence. That’s bad enough, and it did happen to Isak and Even later in the series. Even if you decide you MUST have a violent angle to this incident for whatever reason, I don’t fucking know why but OK, you don’t need to film it in this super exploitative manner where our heroes are getting viciously beaten on the ground. But there are so many ways to incorporate external homophobia without this shit.

Wouldn’t this dreadful scene make more sense at least if it had happened after the pool kiss? Like they go out a few days later, the hate crime happens, and then THAT’s why Robbe pushes away Sander and calls him names? Because now he’s afraid and he’s internalized what the bigots said? It’s tragic and gross, but at least there’s some character-driven logic in that sequence of events.

Another thing that really doesn’t work is that they’re straying so far from the original script, but at the same time they keep jamming in scenes from the original, except there isn’t the same buildup. Or any buildup, sometimes. This results in an incoherent mess of a season and of a POV character, where Robbe is part-Robbe, part-Isak.

I think all the remakes do this to a degree: there are certain beats they feel they must hit, and they hit them even though they’re off course. You need to commit either to doing a mostly faithful adaptation of the original, or to doing a remake with your own spin on the characters, but you need to be very, very careful not to just haplessly mix ‘n’ match the two. Does a scene from OG make sense within this remake universe? No? Then drop it, rewrite it, do what you need to do, just don’t carelessly recreate it if it doesn’t fit.

The way they’re writing Jens is bizarre because he seems to care enough about Robbe to ask him how he’s doing, but also not care enough to stick around and listen once the next shiny thing comes along. From the beginning they’ve set up the friendship tension with the boy squad as not just Robbe’s fault, but as a failure of his friends to pay attention as well. Like in the first episode Robbe is trying to talk to them and they just ditch him! They really need to make Jens more aware of how he himself has messed up with his friend, and not act like this is all Robbe’s doing.

We don’t need another Noor blue balls scene, thank you, bye. But if we keep this one, then we absolutely needed to see what exactly made Robbe stop in the act of sex with her, such as him flashing back to his kiss with Sander. Or even just letting us see him make the decision, because goddamn, what’s with wtFOCK not letting this young actor actually act out some of the meatiest material?

Overall, give Robbe more baby steps in his personal development, and not unbelievable leaps and changes in his behavior because the plot demands them.

I did try to think of a way to incorporate much of the same material from this week, including a hate crime, in a way that made more sense and was not ridiculously OTT or offensive. It’s hard because I really think you need to go back to the beginning of the season, but here’s what I came up with, borrowing some elements from the last episode as well.

Robbe wakes up the night after kissing Sander. He’s happy and glowing, he sees a cute text from Sander and smiles. Then he goes to the kitchen and Milan is there with a black eye or something, he’s talking to Zoë and Senne, maybe they’re tending to his injuries. Robbe asks what happened. Milan had a date last night and some homophobes started giving them a hard time, Milan wasn’t having it, punches were thrown. Milan is very shaken and upset. So is Robbe, who panics. Is this what he has to look forward to if he’s dating a gay? Will people harass him just for being out with his boyfriend? The implications of what it means to be a gay person in this world hit him really hard. He looks at Sander’s text again and ignores him and possibly blocks him. At some point we will establish that Robbe is also ignoring texts/calls from everyone else, too: Noor, Jens, his mom...

Sander shows up the next day outside Robbe’s place after Robbe has been ignoring him. He tries to talk to Robbe, but Robbe is freaked out and visibly nervous, his eyes darting around - he’s paranoid now about being seen with Sander, due to Milan’s incident. He’s worried about being a target for homophobic violence, understandably so. Sander doesn’t realize that Robbe’s frightened, however, and keeps talking and being nice. Robbe tries to play off the other night as just him being drunk, it was a mistake. When Sander physically gets too close to Robbe, Robbe yells that he’s not gay and runs inside, leaving Sander alone.

Robbe encounters Milan at home alone. Milan is still bruised from the homophobic incident. Milan is unusually subdued. Robbe says he’s sorry for what happened to Milan, it’s terrible. Robbe then sticks his foot in his mouth by saying something well-intentioned but hurtful and ignorant about how maybe Milan shouldn’t be so gay in public or w/e, since that will just attract homophobes, and that not all gay people act like Milan (meaning flamboyant, etc.) Milan gets really, really upset and snaps at Robbe about how gay people have been beaten and killed for just being who they are - basically a version of the Pride speech with a somewhat different context - and that it takes bravery and strength, Robbe doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. So that ends on a bad note for them.

Now trying to get out of the house since he’s fought with Milan, Robbe meets up with Jens, or maybe Jens finds him at the park or whatever. Jens comments on how it’s been a while since they’ve talked. Robbe says he was just worried about what the guys would say since he blew up at them previously. Jens is like, dude, we’re your friends. You have to talk to the people who care about you, you can’t just ghost them and avoid facing your problems. Robbe takes this advice to heart. Jens tells Robbe that he’s ready to listen when Robbe wants to talk. Maybe Robbe sees something that reminds him of Sander, like graffiti on a building, and despite his fears, we can see that he really misses Sander, and that his feelings for Sander are stronger than his fears.

Next he meets up with Noor. She’s really upset that he’s been ignoring her. He apologizes and a version of the breakup scene goes down. When Robbe leaves, we see him walk away with a conflicted expression. Sorry that he’s hurt Noor, but understanding that this was the right call, and relief that he doesn’t have to pretend any more.

Robbe sees Milan again and apologizes for what he said last time. Milan accepts his apology. Robbe admits that he’s been confused lately because he likes a guy and he doesn’t know what that makes him. Milan says something like that’s great Robbe likes a guy and that Robbe doesn’t need to label himself right now, he should just follow his heart. Maybe that liking boys is scary (Milan points to his black eye) and sometimes you need to be careful, but at the end of the day, Milan has to be himself and live his life honestly, and so does Robbe. After Milan leaves, Robbe takes out his phone and texts Sander saying he wants to talk.

Sander meets Robbe somewhere and Robbe apologizes for ignoring him, says he freaked out because that was the first time he kissed a guy, but now he’s made up his mind that he wants to be with Sander. They kiss and make up, yayyyyy.

This is by no means a perfect solution (like the thought of then going into the shit with Britt next episode on top of this makes my head hurt), this is just an attempt to include stuff like homophobic violence, Robbe’s ghosting Sander, scenes with Jens and Noor, etc. in a way that makes a little more linear sense to me and doesn’t feel as haphazard, and isn’t super triggering or exploitative. I think if you have a hate crime happening to Robbe himself, that really needs to be the main focus from here on out, for at least a few episodes; if you have something off-screen happening to another character, you can address the topic of violent homophobia without having it dominate the season or featuring triggering scenes. And hopefully it would still have some emotional impact, because we see how it affects Milan, and some clear consequences for character development, because we see how it affects Robbe, as the situation he may find himself in one day.

If I missed anything, cultural notes, translation nuances, let me know!

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asteriismos · 4 years

Text

attention. - bill denbrough

authors note : this is the first chapter of ‘ballads 1′.

warning(s) : underage drinking, college au, swearing, drug use, no pennywise bc i say so, toxic relationship between the reader and another guy,

words : 2.7 k

based off the song ‘attention’ by joji

bill denbrough always thought of himself as a hopeless romantic.

not just in the blatant lovers romance, but in all aspects of love in his life. love for his friends, love for his distant parents, love for writing. he has a large heart, a heart that leads with a strong pride that not many people are able to have. throughout his life he has always had a sense of longing. when he was younger it was always a longing for the future, to see what really was in store for him as soon as he graduated and moved away from derry, maine.

but now that he grew older and was going to turn twenty one this next year, bill realized that he didn’t just have a longing for the future, but the past as well. he missed his friends, though they were only a phone call away, he missed the sense of nostalgia that he always got in those summers in derry. when him and his friends would swim for hours in the quarry and mess around at mr keene’s pharmacy enough to make the old man want to rip his hair out.

it was not his idea to join a frat. it really wasn’t. honestly it made bill a little bit sick to his stomach at the fact that he did. though upon realizing that he longed for that sense of friendship that he had in derry ( though the losers could never be replaced ), bill thought that maybe it would be a good idea.

he also played a lot of baseball, which landed him in one of the most popular frats at his colleges. a bunch of his teammates also were a part of it and got him to join once and for all. bill was a really good baseball player, he always has been for some unknown reason. and he loved it, almost as he loved studying english for his degree. there was just something about being on that field in the hot sunlight that made bill like he had a sense of place in the world. wearing that jersey made him feel like he was a part of something, a family, and he got the same sense with the brothers in his frat.

the same frat that he was a part of also hosted the best goddamn parties. bill never thought of himself as a party animal, and he really wasn’t that wild, but on special occasions he was. he’d flash that million dollar smile, shine those pretty green eyes, and be the life of the party.

tonight was one of those nights. it was the night of the big win anyways. bill had made the game winning home run, making him the topic of the entire party.

little did bill know, this party that he is the topic of would change his life forever.

you, on the other hand, didn’t know what the hell you were doing at a frat party. it was the least favorited place of yours. and if you had any say in the matter, you would’ve just rather stayed in your dorm to read a book, watch netflix, or do literally anything other than be where you are right now.

you used to be an independent person. coming from a small town, you were always the person who everyone admired for being so out of the social norm. you were outgoing, charismatic, the ideal friend. and still somehow you had really good grades to get you into a good college.

now that you were in that college, however, you changed. no longer were you really the outgoing type, you were still charismatic but limited, and you didn’t have many friends. this was all because of the boy you met in freshman year college calculus, his name was liam. at first, liam was the ideal guy for you. he was everything that you could’ve imagined in a boy. at first he was nice, funny, charming, someone who everyone knew. when he asked you out for the first time your heart soared with excitement for that first date. everything went perfectly planned, and you believed that you had a partner for life.

then somewhere after the first three months, something changed. liam got hotheaded, never hitting you, but lashing out with his words. he would get jealous when you talked to other guys and sometimes even your girl friends. then when you would call him out on it, he would manipulate you into thinking that it was your fault for making him angry, which after a while, you started to believe. you knew that it was a wrong relationship, but to some degree you still really liked liam. when liam was in a good mood, he was a good boyfriend. the only problem was when he was in a bad mood . . . he really wasn’t.

you were never the submissive type until you met liam. a part of you wanted to cut him out of your life forever and try to build yourself up again to where you had been before, but you were too scared of what would happen if you did. liam had connections, he would make your life a living hell if you broke up with him. so you stayed with him, despite you not loving him. liam always reminded you that he loved you, even if it took him a few insults to get there.

dressed in a black tank top and dark blue jeans, you walked into the front door of the frat party on 18th street. at first you were even surprised that liam was allowing you to go to this party with him. he loved baseball and went to all the games, but he never took you to the parties that occurred afterwards because he was too scared of you getting too much attention. though tonight he was in a good mood, only commenting on your choice of outfit. liam said that he didn’t want anyone else to see that much of your skin, but that there wasn’t enough time for you to get out of his car and go back up to your dorm to change.

he said that it would be an exception.

a few other of liam’s friends walked behind you and him, him holding you by the waist, into the crowd of people that had pooled into the large house. a few people you recognized from around the campus and in your various classes, though the only people you really knew were liam and his friends.

and then the strangest thing happened.

liam’s arm went off your waist. which wasn’t the strangest thing, no, the strangest thing was when he walked away from you with his friends. without a word, he walked away. it was so unlike him to leave you alone in a public place, though the more you listened to your surroundings, the more you heard the mention of some coke that someone had gotten. that’s what got his attention.

now here you stood, alone in a crowd. and despite the irony of it, you couldn’t have been more happy.

bill thought that you were the most beautiful woman he has ever seen in his life.

he was standing on the grand staircase when you walked into his large house. at first he didn’t notice because his mouth was on a red solo cup, taking a long swig of the liquid that would end up being his luck. as he pulled the cup away, his buddy harrison was talking about the game and how he thought that they weren’t going to win until bill made the winning hit. and usually he would accept the praise with open arms but in that moment he could care less about his baseball skills and more about you, who stood alone with a detached look on your face.

it was such a change from the normal girls that went to these parties. usually they would have giddy, almost too happy smiles on their faces to be at probably their third party this week. they threw themselves at the guys in his frat like they had no self worth, and dressed in the most skimpiest outfits that probably would get them kicked out at a restaurant for public nudity. it took bill a few drinks to find these girls attractive. and it wasn’t because they weren’t pretty, most of them were drop dead gorgeous, but it was because they didn’t have a personality outside of being a sorority girl.

you didn’t seem to be that person. and he definitely hasn’t seen you at a party before or he would’ve approached you before.

with a quick excuse, bill made his way down the stairs past the people standing and talking, all the way to where you were standing. your eyes were low so you didn’t see him until he said, “d-do you want a drink?” damn. he wished that he had payed some more attention in speech therapy as a teen because in this moment, he was more than embarrassed that he had a stutter. being the golden boy of the baseball team didn’t seem fitting for a boy with a stutter, yet here he was.

your previous gaze of the solid dark brown mahogany wood was replaced with white high top converse shoes pointing right at you, to which you looked up to be met with green eyes. and for a moment that scared you because for the longest time you’ve stared into liam’s brown eyes forever, trying to find a hint of hope in them, and now that you’re staring into the green eyes of this stranger. . . you see the hope almost like a blinding light.

liam doesn’t like when you drink.

“i'm-” you start, cutting off your words when it starts to feel like cotton is being shoved down your throat. what you were about to say is that you’re taken. and technically you are, but it wasn’t cheating to accept a drink from someone. for all you knew, this stranger is just being nice.

“i'm y/n,” you corrected yourself, giving the boy in front of you a smile.

bill, admittedly, felt like a little kid again with a crush. because the second that you talked to him, his heart started to soar to cloud nine. your voice felt like everything that he was missing in his life and the more he stared at you the more he wanted to get to know you. he wanted to know all your hopes, aspirations, your favorite color . . . everything that you would possibly let him know. and bill knew that it was wrong to think this much about someone who he has only spoken four words to, but as said before, he was a hopeless romantic.

in fact, he was surprised that you were even giving him the light of day, especially since he was staring into your eyes a little bit too long for someone you just met.

if only he knew that you had been seeking some kind of validation like this for almost two years now.

giving that same boyish grin that had been on his face when he first spoke to you, he said, “i’m bill. it’s n-nice to meet y-y . . .” he cursed under your breath too silently for you to hear. “you,” he finally got out, cheeks blazing red with embarrassment.

you only smiled, nodding your head, deciding not to even acknowledge his stutter. which he silently thanked you for.

“bill,” you said, testing how the name felt on your tongue. it felt nice, rolling off like honey. the second that you said it, bill felt like he could live a lifetime of you saying that name. he tried to capture the moment, playing it on repeat over and over in his brain. it sounded so perfect, so pure, it was everything that he wanted.

fuck off bill, you’re falling in love with a stranger, at least get to know her a little bit beforehand.

“s-so do you want that d-d-drink?” he asked again, motioning over to the kitchen where the lines of cups stood, just waiting to be picked up by another eager college student.

and, taking a leap of faith towards bill with the hopeful green eyes, you nodded your head and said, “yes.”

bill watched as you spoke with a smile, sitting next to you and admiring the light in your eyes as you spoke about your hometown. he quickly realized after hearing you talk to him even more, that he could listen to you speak forever and not say one word back. your voice was passionate, speaking with a fire behind it that you realized you haven’t had in a while.

both of you sat on a lawn chairs in the backyard of the house, where not a lot of people were so it was quiet enough to talk without screaming over the music that boomed in the inside.

now that you were without the cloud in your life for almost two hours into this party, you had broken out of your shell a little bit. it was nice. for a few moments you started to feel like yourself again.

and the more you got to know bill, the more you liked him. he was nice, funny, came from a small town just like you, and was super easy to talk to. you were patient while he worked out the words that took him a moment to say with his stutter, which you learned was something that not a lot of people did in his life. he told you about how his own parents got annoyed with it sometimes, and how the frat brothers would start talking over him while he worked out words. it saddened you that you were one of the only people who was patient with him, since bill seemed like someone everyone liked.

“so you’re telling me you’re the reason this whole party is even happening?” you asked him, a small hiccup followed soon after and a giggle.

bill rolled his eyes jokingly. “y-yes. but please it’s n-n-not that big of a d-deal. my friends a-are just over the t-t-tuh-top.”

you shrugged. “i’ve never really been to one of these before, so to me it is a big deal. i’m with the star of the party!”

“stop it,” bill joked. “i’m n-not a star. f-f-far from it.”

you didn't think so.

“whatever you say, billy denbrough,” you teased. maybe you did have a little bit too much to drink after all.

“b-b-but im glad that you’re here,” bill said, giving you a look. his eyes never left your face while it looked at his with such wonder. “it’s n-n-not every day i get t-to talk to pretty g-girls.”

now that threw you through a loop. it’s not every day i get to talk to pretty girls. talk to pretty girls, pretty girls, pretty girls. he thinks that i’m a pretty girl.

you were about to answer, but your phone buzzed, prompting you to take it out of your back pocket and look at the text. it was liam, asking you where the hell you were and that he wants to leave. you looked around the vacinity to see if somehow liam spotted you, but he wasn’t there. thank god, because you couldn’t have imagined if liam saw you talking to bill. he would never let you out of his sight again, he wouldn’t let you out of his grasp . . . suddenly your heart started to race, and you felt the borderline panic attack that washed over your body.

you need to leave before he gets mad, if he isn’t already.

“i have to go . . . it was nice to meet you bill,” you said, giving him a wave and walking towards the house to leave.

bill stood up, about to question your sudden shift in behavior. it happened right after he complimented you and now he believes that he has said the wrong thing. he’s pushed his luck too far. bill felt like an idiot. then again, your whole demeanor had shifted the moment you checked your phone, so maybe he hadn’t been the reason.

standing there dumbfounded, all he could think about is how much he longed to see you again.

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough imagine #stanley uris #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #it #IT movie #it movie imagine #it movie 2017 #it movie x reader #it movie 2019

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