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#actually really nice to get a little writing going through my system
you-call-it-a-dude · 2 months
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Call It What You Want
Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5
Summary: You went to high school with Regina George and she is now your neighbor in your college dorm. She, of course, pretended like she didn't know you at first. Until she got some alcohol in her system.
Pairings: Regina George x gender neutral/fem reader
Warnings: internalized homophobia, feelings, school lol, swearing
Notes: Hi, yes. So this is my first time writing for not only Regina George but also for like reader POV. If it's any good and something people enjoy, I will do more of it. Hopefully you like it, but if you don't that's totally cool too. Thanks for reading either way.
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You had managed to, for the most part, avoid Regina George your three years at North Shore High School. You transferred there your sophomore year, your mom taking full advantage of your dad's Evanston address when you got in trouble once at your public high school in the city. You didn't even actually do anything, but both your parents prioritized your future college education too much to let even a thought of bad behavior ruin it.
You made it through high school pretty unscathed. You laid low, had your small group of friends and kept to yourself.
You witnessed the rise and fall of Regina George in real time. You felt bad for her almost. Yes, she was a major bully, but the one time you overheard her dad yelling at her at a parent teacher conference kinda made some things make sense. She also didn't really target you with her bullshit.
Well, okay, someone wrote in the burn book that you were a carpet muncher and would call you a gay slur here and there, but you've been called worse things. People in that book were certainly called worse things.
Senior year was relatively quiet after Cady dismantled The Plastics.
Regina had taken up soccer, which was actually a really terrifying thought given the neck injury she sustained. She was good though. Good enough to get into University of Illinois, Chicago with a partial soccer scholarship.
But of course, her parents writing a big fat check may help with that.
She didn't even need the scholarship. You don't even know how she got away with getting it.
You also were accepted to UIC. You worked harder than Regina did academically, had some of the best grades in your class, did all the volunteering and extracurriculars, and you still didn't get close to the same amount of money offered in scholarships that Regina got (and didn't need).
You were angry when you found out about her almost full ride, but it was a big school and you were almost certain once you were graduated you wouldn't even be giving Regina George ,or anyone from that high school aside from your best friend, a second thought.
Seeing her at orientation seemed like just a coincidence. Watching her get her keys to the same dorm you were staying in had to be a fluke. Passing by her room, the room that happened to be next to yours, just seemed like you were being punked.
You got yourself settled while waiting on your roommate. You had been speaking with them throughout the summer and know they're coming from Colorado and also know they wouldn't be coming until tomorrow because they texted you. So you were taking advantage of this time to get yourself sorted without having to rush or anything.
You left your door open while you got yourself unpacked, a bunch of people coming by to introduce themselves to you or stop in and talk.
There was a soft knock and you turned your head, expecting to greet another person. Instead stood Regina, leaning against your wall with her arms crossed.
"Hello." You greeted, sounded a little surprised.
"Hi, I just thought since we were going to be neighbors I would introduce myself."
She almost sounded nice? Pleasant?
She also clearly did not recognize you. Yeah you trimmed your hair a bit and dyed it slightly darker, but nothing extremely different.
But this also really helps solidify just how invisible you were to her in high school.
You had two routes. You could bring up the fact that you actually know each other and make it weird, or just introduce yourself.
"Yeah, that makes sense. I'm Y/N."
"Regina. No roommate?" She pointed to the empty side of your room with her head.
"Coming from Colorado. So long drive." You scrunched up your nose at the thought of how long that drive was and she hummed in acknowledgment.
"Are you from around here?"
"Uh, yeah. The city, northside. You?"
"Evanston, so basically from the city."
"Ahh, you're one of those people." You chuckled.
"What is that supposed to mean?" She scrunched her eyebrows up, clearly getting defensive.
"You say you're from the city but you're from the suburbs. That's all I meant." You said softly, watching her face soften when she realized you weren't actually insulting her.
"Most people don't know where Evanston is, so." She defended with a small smile.
"Unfortunately for you, I do." You smiled back at her.
"Are you going to the freshman mixer tonight?"
"I didn't even know there was one." You answered truthfully.
"Mkay, you're gonna come with me then. I'll be back at like nine?"
You pulled your phone out of your pocket and saw it was only like 11am and you quickly realized the long night you've gotten yourself into.
Or that Regina had gotten you into.
"Yeah, that sounds cool."
"Awes. See you later then." She slapped your doorframe once before leaving.
But you didn't miss the way she turned and let her eyes linger on you for just a few seconds longer than what's considered socially acceptable.
---
You spent the rest of the day unpacking and getting settled. You went off campus for lunch then took a walk to get some refreshing frozen lemonade from a popular place near by and drank it while you made your way back to your room.
Regina was still setting her dorm up to her standards. Her door was open and when you peaked in, she was standing on a wobbly chair trying to tape posters to her wall.
Of course she got a single room.
"Need help?" You took a sip of your partially melted peach lemonade and knocked on her doorframe to get her attention.
"Yes, please. That would be great." She said, sound exasperated.
You held out a hand to help her off the chair, but she ignored it. Opting to just brace herself on your shoulder instead. You scratched your head and assessed the situation. You weren't really much taller than her, but your arms were longer so that could work in your favor.
You looked around for somewhere to set your drink before she took it from you to hold. You stepped on to the death trap of a chair and did your best to hang the poster. It was of an artist you had never heard of, but you wouldn't be opposed to new music if she was any good.
You pressed the corners of the poster against the wall and moved out the way. Regina thought for a few seconds before asking you if it was possible to 'pretty please' move the right side up like a quarter of an inch.
You did your best to gauge a quarter of an inch, and your best was thankfully good enough because Regina was satisfied with your efforts pretty fast.
She reached her empty hand up to help you off the chair and you hesitated at first, but took it. She stiffened her arm and gave you a firm platform to put your weight so you had support when hopping down.
Did part of you kind of expect her to let you fall? A little yeah.
"So, what are my chances of getting you to build something for me, too?" She asked sweetly while she handed you back your drink and you took a sip, your dry throat feeling relieved already.
"It depends what it is."
"It's a stupid metal shelf thing." She stepped aside and over the metal parts scattered across her floor.
There was an attempt made, so you at least know she tried before asking.
"Yeah, that looks easy to me. Do you have the instructions?" You handed your drink back to her and kneeled on the floor, rifling through all the pieces.
She set your drink down on the desk and handed you the instructions, sitting down on the floor next to you with her legs crossed.
This shelf wasn't too difficult to build, but it was definitely frustrating. The pieces were in the right spot but they just weren't fitting. Regina complained about how her parents bought her such cheap stuff and didn't even stick around to help her build it. It wasn't like they had a long drive home ahead of them.
She kept apologizing for asking you to help her with stuff or for the shelf being too difficult. She said many times that if you couldn't get it she would just throw the shelf away and not to worry about it if it didn't work out.
You reassured her that it was really okay and you were happy to help. That there was no need to throw out a perfectly good shelf. After a few pinches to your skin, a few scrapes from jagged edges, and a lot of swearing later, you managed to get it built for her.
You didn't expect her to be as involved as she was. She was handing you pieces, going over the directions with you.
You stood up and picked up the shelf, turning it up right so it was standing correctly. She stood up after you, eyeing the shelf with her hands on her hips and nodding.
"That looks perfect. Thank you so much, really."
"You're so good, happy I can help." You picked up your now melted lemonade and took a sip, trying not to be visibly upset over the fact it was no longer frozen.
"Did you get that on campus?"
"No, it's a few minutes away. Really close by. You didn't know that, city girl?" You teased and bit back a smile when you noticed the small blush to her cheeks.
"I was going to offer to buy you a new one, but since you want to be mean I'm taking that offer of the table." She crossed her arms with a small pout and the overwhelming urge to kiss it away scared you.
"No, no. I wouldn't accept anyway. It was like halfway gone. No biggie, honestly." There was an awkward pause between the two of you. "Um, was there anything else you needed help with? Or should I go?"
"You can go now." She said in a tone that felt like a war flashback or something. "I'll swing by your room to pick you up at like 8:45."
"Do you still want me to go?" You asked, because honestly her tone was suggesting otherwise.
"I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't." She defended, her eyebrows furrowed.
"Okay. I'll see you later then."
---
9:15pm and you were sitting at your desk dressed and feeling stupid. Because of course Regina was still going to very much so still be Regina.
There was a knock at your door and you waited a second before answering it.
When you opened the door, you keep your face neutral and unimpressed. Which was actually extremely difficult to do because Regina looked breathtaking.
"Yeah, I know. I'm late. Also, you look hot." She commented and it immediately made you feel self conscious because you couldn't gauge if it was genuine or not.
You thought you looked good, but Regina had been notorious for giving out fake compliments.
"Thanks."
"So you agree? You think you're hot?"
Jeez, talk about a war flashback.
"I do." You answered without missing a beat, but your insecurities were threatening to crawl their way out of your mouth at any second.
Regina pursed her lips and nodded in approval at your response and you slowly let out the breath you had been holding.
"Let's go then."
---
Regina abandoned you the second you guys got to the mixer. Which you half expected. You quickly realized that this was not an official university organized event, though the 9pm start time should've made that clear ages ago.
Another indicator being that they were at a frat house.
Alcohol was flowing, students from all different grade levels were mingling.
You grabbed a cup of whatever alcoholic beverage was concocted and got to mingling.
You talked with a few people that you found out you would be sharing classes with, which was cool.
After about an hour of mingling and drinking, you found your way to the front porch and parked yourself on their porch swing and just did a bunch of people watching.
A cat with a collar came and sat next to you, purring and nuzzling against you. You had no idea if it belonged to the frat house or if it was a stray that just frequented the area. The collar said her name was Roach which really made you thing she belonged to the frat boys, but an off campus address on the back put those fears to rest.
"You found a cat!" Regina slurred, stepping out of the house loudly. Her heeled boots clicked against the floor of the porch and she slammed the door behind her, completely shutting out the thumping noise of the party.
"Yeah! Well, more so she found me. Her name is Roach."
"Ew." She hiccuped and made her way over to you, sitting next to Roach. She angled her body and rested her head on your shoulder. "I have to tell you something." She slurred again, reaching down to let the cat sniff her hand before petting her between the ears.
"Sure, what's up?"
"I remembered you and I pretended like I didn't." She lifted her head up to look at you. "But you're a sneaky bitch too because you did the same thing." She poked your cheek with her index finger until you turned your head away from it.
"You talked to me first. I wasn't going to bother you." You admitted, getting a little frustrated.
"Why? You didn't want to talk to me?" She asked, sounding almost disappointed?
"I didn't think you'd want me to. Then I thought it would be really embarrassing if I said I remembered you and you introduced yourself to me. So I just didn't say anything."
"I didn't want you to tell anyone about who I was in high school." She rested her head against your shoulder again. "I just wanted to start over."
"I'm not going to say anything." You said quietly, a little disappointed that the only reason she tried befriending you was to do damage control.
"I feel bad about it."
"About what?"
"How I treated people." She sniffled, clearing her nose. "I'm sorry about what I wrote about you."
"It is what it is." You shrugged. "It's not like I hid my sexuality or anything."
"You didn't. It made me jealous."
Your ears perked up at this admission. You didn't know whether or not to press on or drop the subject. Whatever amount of alcohol she drank was giving her loose lips and you aren't actually sure how much of this information she actually wants anyone to know.
"You don't want to talk about this sober?" She shook her head against your shoulder.
"Talking about it sober is hard."
"Your parents not accepting or...?"
"My mom? Maybe. Probably. My dad? Absolutely fucking not." She took your drink from your hand and downed the rest of it.
"We don't have to talk about this anymore." You offered while she was downing your drink.
"I'm gonna get another drink." She began to get up, but you pulled her back down"
"Hey, no. Come on. Just stay here with me and Roach." You motioned to the purring cat between you both. "I don't want to lose track of you or the cat. So just stay."
Regina sighed and leaned back against the back of the porch swing. She bit her bottom lip and looked up at you.
"What if we brought the cat inside with us while I got a drink." She offered, giving you a silly little smirk that made your heart somersault.
"I think it's too loud for her in there." Roach let out small meow. "See, she agrees." You scratched under her chin, trying to ignore the way Regina was staring at you right now.
"You were always so nice to us."
"What are you talking about?"
"When I let Gretchen drive my car one time to get us lunch and she got a flat tire in the school lot and you helped her change it so I wouldn't get mad at her. You talked her out of a panic attack because she was so afraid of me."
"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that." You lied.
"Or when Karen was upset after the Christmas show junior year because I was just so cruel to her about her body count. Which wasn't even high. I saw you bringing her that stupid red and green caramel popcorn that the cafeteria was selling for the show."
"I saw her crying, I thought it would cheer her up."
"You also gave me ice when they dropped me on my face and you tried taking care of me."
"I was working backstage and nobody else wanted to help you. Though, I do recall being called a shitty name or two when I did that." You teased.
"I know. I'm sorry. Like really fucking sorry. I was just...projecting."
"I know." You reassured.
You sat in silence for a few minutes, watching people come in and out of the house. Regina adjusted next to you and you put a protective had on Roach and scooted her closer so Regina had more space to move.
You could feel her staring at you. It made you anxious because who knows what she was thinking about.
Regina shifted again and before you can even register her movements, her lips were pressed softly against the sensitive skin of your neck.
"I always thought you were so hot." She mumbled against your skin, her tongue poking out slightly to taste you and her right hand coming up to cup your neck.
You froze for a few seconds, getting lost in the sensation of her lips on your skin, before your rational thoughts kicked in.
"Regina." You said calmly, pulling her hand on your neck. "You're drunk." You laced your fingers with hers and rested your joined hands on your lap.
You watched her stare at your hands, fully expecting her to go off on you or to say something cruel in her drunken state.
Instead, she swiped her thumb over your knuckles and hummed a small approval to herself.
Then a cluster of rowdy frat boys came fumbling out of the house and she let go of your hand faster than anything you had ever witnessed before.
She wiped her hands on her pants and stood up with such ease that it made you question if she was ever even that drunk to begin with.
"I'm gonna get another drink. I'll find you when I'm ready to go."
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leighsartworks216 · 5 months
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To Be Warm And Comfy
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
I was only going to write down this little idea before I took a nap... And then I ended up writing the whole thing
The crochet theme actually came out of nowhere for me. I cannot crochet anything more than a chain to save my life, but I do loom knit from time to time
Warnings: self-deprecation, low self worth
Word Count: 776
Main Masterlist
First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
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Slotted between his legs, you rested your back against Astarion's chest. His arms coiled around your waist and held you close, while he pressed his nose into your neck and peered over your shoulder. With practiced hands, the yarn slid through your fingers at the perfect tension, hooked and worked together into rows of perfect stitches.
He'd never seen anything quite like it. During his living years, he focused on intellectualism and law, not crafts. And during his servitude, sewing and embroidering came about from necessity, though he did still enjoy them. This was incredible. He couldn't stop watching as you worked in smooth movements to crochet your little project. You wouldn't tell him what it was, but he was content simply to watch.
For several weeks, this became the nightly pattern. You'd lay back in his arms while he held you, watching you work away in silence or with idle chatter. When you finished for the night, you'd set your project aside where it wouldn't get damaged, he'd gingerly bite into your neck and take his share, and he'd lay down with you as you drifted off to sleep. Usually he stayed, if he'd had enough to eat during the day and didn't need to sip on some boar or squirrels. Sometimes he would read while you crocheted, sharing his favorite bits with you. It was nice. Peaceful.
You told him, one night, that you were almost finished. He'd watched with rapt attention then, studying the way you fastened off and weaved the excess yarn back through the stitches. He'd realized almost a week ago that it was a sweater, but it was almost a marvel when you held it up by the shoulders in front of you both to show it off.
He kissed your jaw with a gentle squeeze around your midsection. "It looks wonderful, darling."
You hummed, smiling brightly. "I'm really glad you think so." You sat up and turned in his arms. He didn't fight to keep you where you were, though he certainly missed the solidness and warmth you provided. You held it out to him. "Put it on."
He frowned, confused. "Don't tell me you spent weeks making that just to give it away?"
"Of course I did, now put it on."
"I'm hardly worth the effort," he scoffed. He did not accept the gift. His expressions mixed oddly - light-hearted joy, befuddlement, self-deprecation - all flooding his system and overwhelming him. He simply could not grasp the fact you'd go through all the effort for him. "Surely it would look much nicer on you!"
You sighed, understanding and long-suffering. "Tell you what, if it doesn't fit or you don't like it, I'll keep it. Deal?"
He sighed, too. He'd hardly be able to refuse it once he put it on. But you nudged the sweater in his direction again, and how could he say no?
You watched with a wide grin as he slipped it over his head and slid the sleeves along his arms. It was... really nice, actually. Warm and soft without feeling constricting. It fit him perfectly.
"You're always so cold," you explain, wrapping your arms around his waist and relaxing forward until your chin was against his chest. "So I made you this. You can wear it when touch is too overwhelming, or if you feel too out of it to cuddle. I just want you to be warm and comfy."
He chuckles breathlessly, tears welling at the corners of his eyes. "I'm sure I'll be very comfy in this."
His undead heart ached. You went through so much trouble. He'd seen you struggle to find enough of the same yarn, watched you cuss and groan every time a stitch fell or when you had to undo a section because you miscounted. He'd held and massaged your hands when crocheting began to wear them out. 
And still you persevered. For him. You even ensured it would fit a little loose, so he wouldn't be claustrophobic. It was... a lot. To have someone go through all this trouble.
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you up until he could give you a proper hug. He nuzzled his cold nose into your neck, and he sighed. Softly, sweetly - completely relaxed.
"Thank you." He bit his tongue before he could ask if you were sure, if he really was worth the effort. Surely, by making the sweater, you'd proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was. "I shall cherish it always."
"I love you," you coo sweetly by his ear.
He must look like a fool with how wide he's smiling. "I love you, too, dear."
---
Tag List:
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lamprophonia · 6 months
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》 [ yandere!Jock. ] 《
masterlist.
yan!jock x gn!reader: introduction. 1273 words. reader referred to as 'you'. cw for general yandere behavior.
DO NOT USE OR REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE.
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elijah steele is the best goddamn actor in your school.
the theatre kids could learn from him, honestly, because there is no way in hell anyone else could have convincingly pulled off what he did: pose as the nicest, most helpful and kind student in the entirety of the sorry shithole that is eastview high for four years straight.
to literally everyone, elijah is so sweet it's almost vomit inducing. the school's golden boy — smart, nice, strong. best player on the football team, co-captain of the swim team, and part of the basketball team for good measure, helpful, always cheery, and he got good grades.
even amongst his peers, he was always considered the most straight-edge one; still, he was pretty much universally liked. he was genuinely friends with everyone, never judging or turning anyone away.
what's not to love?
well, probably the fact that all of that is a lie, an ever on-going act. a carefully crafted persona, custom made to hide the fact elijah steele is a colossal prick.
it's honestly almost too easy for him. help teachers out here and there, talk to the right people, go to the right parties, and play on some teams, and boom, the entirety of eastview wrapped around your finger. he's made high school a game for himself, and he has been winning for four years straight.
elijah's obsession with you didn't kick in right away. he saw you and was... eh, rather neutral. he decided you were pretty enough, and homecoming or some other stupid dance he didn't actually care about was coming up, so he needed a date to look good. you were just a pawn, after all, no different from anyone else. an accessory — good-looking and non-threatening enough.
no, the obsession started when you rejected him.
worse than reject him: you saw through the finely crafted veil he's always putting on — through the smile that's as fake as it is charming, the tone of voice that's almost a bit too nice — you saw through it all, and didn't hesitate to let him know.
and oh.
it hurt.
with a few words and an unimpressed look, without even realizing it, you broke elijah's game. you weren't playing along. and hey, he might be a prick, but he's a prick with feelings. a lot of very conflicting feelings, as it turns out; he's dealt with rejection before, but never when it came to relationships.
he probably should have seen the hurt he felt when you rejected him as a sign of what was coming, that being the growing obsession he can practically feel developing. you made him feel something other than smug superiority and mild annoyance. it wasn't anything pleasant, sure, but it was new. the week after that little encounter of yours, you were literally the only thing he could think about.
at first, it was a mixed bag. elijah was confused, weirdly hurt — he discovered he didn't like feeling either of those much — and angry. mostly angry. that was the only emotion he was really familiar with of those three, so he thought he would be able to use it pretty easily. he does football after all, he'd just tackle whatever poor sods that were unfortunate enough to be going up against him in practice and get it all out of his system. easy, right?
it wasn't easy.
he nearly dislocated a guy's shoulder before realizing that his usual method for dealing with his feelings — channeling them into brute force — wasn't working, which only made him more confused, which in turn only made him angrier. so used to being in control, elijah didn't know what to do with himself for the first few days.
fortunately for him and the rest of the eastview football players, his anger, hurt, and confusion subsided after maybe a week and a half, giving way to another unfamiliar, but much more welcome emotion: fascination.
you still occupied his thoughts constantly, but he finally got a break from the all-consuming contempt he felt. instead, he regarded you with intrigue, a curiosity. it was then he decided he had to learn more; you were an obstacle, a challenge. another part of the game.
he just had to figure out how to beat you.
in some strange way, elijah was excited. this was going to be hard, sure, but his mind was already hard at work, and he was sure it would eventually be rewarding.
and hey, most importantly, this was new! his rage turned to pure goddamn delight at the idea of someone who finally isn't drooling all over him. it's so fun! like a specimen for him to study, aren't you, darling? finally, he has to work for someone's favour.
once elijah comes to this... decision? realization? he gets started pretty much immediately. he knows now that the overly sugarcoated golden boy persona isn't going to work for you. he's going to need a new strategy, and he's giddy to get to work on it.
with negative hesitation, he starts stalking you. honestly, he probably starts stalking you before he actually buckles down and starts trying to win you over; at some point in the bafflement that comes with you not immediately falling for him, he just starts to follow you around from a distance, almost absent-mindedly making notes on your schedule, your friends, class mates, teachers... he decides to double down after that, though, deciding that if he's serious about beating you, he's going to have to up his game.
that's when he starts actually following you home, taking note of your family and your behavior outside of school.
the second thing he starts doing is shadowing you outside of stalking. that meaning, he starts sitting with you at lunch, making friends with your friends, switches classes to have them with you, and joins your extracurriculars; and he does so with the most smug, shit-eating grin on his face.
he starts talking to you as if you were one of his friends, and even though you knew that elijah was probably less nice than he seemed at first glance, you didn't realize just how starkly different his real personality is from the persona he puts on.
elijah starts to treat you more genuinely, in a way. he talks shit about his friends to you, bitches freely about all his classes and coaches. it's a distinction that would feel sweet, if not for the cognitive dissonance that comes with watching him be all smiles with someone right after he told you he hates them.
because here's the thing — now that elijah knows you're not fooled by the overly sweet and helpful guy he pretends to be, that his polite golden boy act won't work on you like it does with everyone else; now, he can stop pretending.
it's freeing. hell, it's almost more fun that way.
he wants to win with all of his cards out on the table. every nice, kind he does to make you like him will be colored by that tension, that dissonance, that confusion.
of course, elijah would never admit it, but slowly, as he makes friends with you, his obsession with you turns romantic. his intrigue turns to sincere care and affection. he doesn't realize it until he sees someone flirting with you — or worse, you flirting with someone — and jealousy hits him like a fucking brick.
he's left to collect himself, once again feeling hurt, angry, and confused at his own thoughts. he didn't even like you. you were supposed to be just a game, a challenge, an obstacle.
what the fuck was happening?
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hattersarts · 8 months
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gomens s2 thoughts, all spoilers!
I spent 10 hours talking to my housemate about the season after we binged the whole thing in the morning but here are the highlights and the biggest takeaways from the season.
okay i did love the ending, i love that we get the conformation of love AND going into the divorce arc next season (if they're not properly together by the end of season 3 however, i am rioting) they're slow burn and a whole season of them getting to the final 10mins was tasty.
HOWEVER. it was an extremely clunky season when it comes to writing, lots of either set ups missed OR set ups repeated 4 times that they're drilled into out heads. there was also lots of dialogue that really needed to be tightened up. the lesbians were so poorly written i thought they might have needed to be cut BUT they just needed to have more bearing on the rest of the plot AND say things like real people would say things and LITERALLY SHOW ONE SINGLE REASON WHY THEY WOULD LIKE EACH OTHER WITHIN THE FIRST EPISODE.
gabe/bulz romance was the one that should have been cut, have them do more of a oh-my-god-my-boss-sucks kind of thing, lean into them complaining about having to avert a civil war after armageddon stopped and touch on the "structural problems" the angels mention later. Have gabe/bulz be super punished for working together which puts huge fear into az and crowley about what happens if you try to team up as an angel/demon pair (but an extra reason why az takes the job at the end so he and crowley can be the same)
imo it works more if the only mirror of their romance is the HUMANS which should lean into themes to season 3 of how they need to team up with humans (re:"us vs them" line at the end of season 1) to actually achieve their happy ending.
Nina and maggies best scene was their last one telling crowley he needed to talk to az but i think that was one that needed to be cut, it would have been far more satisfying to have crowely work out it out himself that he loves az and wants to tell him (still via maggie and nina but more subtle rather than them telling him to his face AND via spending more time with az in the season)
flashbacks were all pretty good, loved the jobe one and that final "lonely" scene. the nazi one needed some trimming the most (why did all three come back to earth, it made scenes too crowed, have them fight to be a zombie)
shax was disappointing, she was kind of just incompetent the whole way through which didnt make the stakes very exciting, (that whole scene of her talking to the legion was unfunny and pointless) i wanted crowley to mentor her more like when he gave her advice in the first few meetings we saw (kind of in a very non-demonic way, not expecting anything in return) and her to then meet him on equal footing in the finale. would have been a little accidental taste for Crowley to have his good deeds come back to haunt him while showing he's different to demons.
speaking of the finale fight, that halo had NO set up, it was sick as hell but ??? the fuck did that come from. the fight should have been won by az and crowley performing another HUGE miracle together, discorporating the demons (which then would alert heaven and hell something was up in the bookshop and the final scene can happen)
az taking the job from metatron was very good, its consistent with his character where he still hasn't let go of his faith in good/god, he's only been upset by the angels running heaven and still has faith in the system while crowley has realised none of it works and it's only them together that matters. it was nice to show he still hasn't truly accepted crowley for who he is now (tho imo he knows he loves him, he just hasn't quite unrepressed himself) and him not turning down the job after crowley confesses to him shows he still thinks he can fix it. Crowley on the other hand thinks he's now lost him, az has broken he the trust he had in him, he's going to be in big depression mode
few thoughts of good directions for S3:
finally delivering on what crowley said at the end of S1 I think is the most satisfying. the final showdown should be humans Vs heaven/hell with Crowley and az on the human side, helping them win the conflict. there would be suggestions that this is actually god's ineffable plan, this is a conflict she wants to happen and the things that Crowley and az went through are what make them perfect ambassadors to help the humans.
the set up for az in S3 to finally work out he and Crowley can't work out within the unfair rules of the system and for him to abandon heaven (tho not I think, becoming a demon) is good. a sucky ending imo for season 3 is if az somehow "fixes" heaven and via bureaucracy and not via blowing it all up.
growth moments for Crowley in S3 might be having more contact with humans since he's already abandoned hell and it would put az & crowley on similar footing (as az very much loves humans already) when they decided to side with humans for a humans Vs heaven/hell conflict.
anyway, gay people
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luveline · 9 months
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Hi Jade! I love your writings so much. I often keep them as a treat for my way to work - only if I can be patient.
There is a big thunderstorm right now and I rememberd how when I was little my dad took me in his arms and went to the window to show me I don't have to be afraid of a thunderstorm. That got me thinking about Eddie and Roan. I can really picture them doing this. And r witnesses, maybe before the proposal (somehow I mentally devide their timeline in bevor and after the proposal and moving houses).
I don't know if you would want to write something like that. Perfectly fine if you don't.
hi my love, thank you so much for your request!! i hope you like it! eddie and roan —eddie comforts roan during a thunderstorm. 2k, fem!reader
Eddie knows without looking out of the window that the crunching sound outside is the tires of your car as you park. A slamming follows, then your footsteps hurried in the rain bumping up the stairs. You open the door, ushering in a hail of rain and your funny awkward smile he adores so much, like you're surprised to find him in his own home. 
"Hi, sweetheart," you say, rain rivulets racing down your cheeks, "it's raining bad." 
"Yeah?" he asks, semi-serious. 
He's feeling slovenly today (and pretty much every other day too, though he's allowing himself the indulgence of listening to his wants for once) and so he remains laying down on the couch, but he reaches out with two grabbing hands for you, encouraging you in. 
You frown at his teasing, slipping out of your shoes and your coat, and letting them fall as you walk toward him. He knows you aren't so rude as to leave your stuff lying around. You're as eager to see him today as he is to see you, because you've been separated for a few days; you've been at work and your own home, Eddie at Roan's art and crafts summer workshop, both slightly too busy to come and see one another without causing upheaval. 
You walk into his arms, which is to say you kneel on the couch and then collapse like a dry sand castle into his chest. You're a grown woman with enough weight to make him groan at your sudden landing. Eddie wouldn't change a thing about you, including your roughness, and he takes your hug in stride. 
"I missed you so much," you say, kissing his jaw. 
You hadn't meant to kiss his jaw; you go in for a corrective peck against his lips, your smile sticky with clear balm and smelling of oranges, peaches. Sweet, citrusy. Eddie licks his lips when you pull away and beams at the transferred flavour. 
"Ew," you murmur, wrinkling your nose even as you smile.
"You taste nice, what can I say?" Eddie looks at you through one eye. "You actually got prettier while you were away, didn't you? I missed you so much I made you prettier." 
"You have freaky mind powers," you say agreeably, pressing another quick kiss to his cheek. He must shine in the light from all the spread gloss. 
"It's really raining out there. Did you get that leak fixed last time?" you ask. 
Eddie puts an arm behind his head and looks up at the ceiling. "Ah, she'll be okay. It can't get that bad again, can it?" 
You try to cover his mouth and prevent his jinx, but it's too late. Within five minutes, the rain has turned to a hammering spatter against the roof and ceiling of Eddie's home, and the windows shake in their frames as the wind howls. 
You ease to one side of Eddie to take your weight off of his chest and the two of you peer out at the quickly darkening sky, perturbed but nothing anymore severe at the suddenness of the weather. 
"Maybe that's why it's been so warm," he suggests, trailing a fingertip down your back. "It was waiting to break." 
"The heat?" You rub your cheek against his shoulder, and take a sneaky breath in that Eddie pretends he doesn't notice. 
"Isn't that what it is, the pressure? Weather systems? Cyclones?" 
"Sorry, handsome, buzzwords won't turn me into a weatherologist." You put your hand on his cheek and rub the pale, stubbly skin beneath it with an adoring thumb. "I bet you're right. Do you have enough stuff to survive if we get rained in for the weekend?" 
"Sure. Got a whole crock pot of stew going, with tiny carrots and pearl onions and the works. Sautéed, by the way." 
"Sounds delicious," you say, smiling down at him like he's hung the moon. He'll never, ever get sick of the sweetness with which you see him. "Can I try some?" 
"It should be done now if you want me to fix you a bowl." 
You climb off of him as carefully as you're able to, so you almost jab him in the crown jewels. You're sorry kiss makes up for it, and better the little sound of happiness you make from the kitchenette after your first taste of stew. You eat another spoonful quickly, and Eddie's content to let you do as you like as long as you keep smiling like that. 
He's thinking Roan's been suspiciously quiet for a while when his daughter miraculously appears. She looks exactly like him, though Roan has a slightly different nose. Her dark eyebrows are pulled down and in, her little pink lip pouted out. 
"What's up?" he asks gently, always sorry when she's unhappy. He clambers up into a sitting position and holds out his arms. She rushes forward, burying her face in his KISS shirt without a sound. "Ro, what's wrong?" 
He pet's her hair out of her face. She whispers something, but Eddie can't hear her. He ducks his head and whispers too. "What's wrong? I can't hear you, you're so quiet. Shout at me, please." 
"I don't like the storm." 
Eddie's eyebrows rise in realisation. "Ah, I know. Sorry, baby, I should've come to see if you were okay, you don't like the loud noise, huh?" 
"It flashed, dad." 
"Did we have lightning?" 
"It was really bright, and then the sky cracked." 
Eddie rubs the short stretch of her back, her grubby t-shirt bunching under his hand. He decides that's as good a distraction as any he'll get and hugs Roan to his chest as he stands. "Let's put pyjamas on. Wanna say hi to Y/N first?" 
Roan perks up when she sees you. You're caught red-handed, still standing at the kitchen eating spoons of stew over your hand, but neither Munson cares. You waylay them with cheek kisses and offer to plate up dinner. Eddie things it's a great idea. 
"Before she eats it all," he murmurs to Roan cheekily. 
You harrumph, but the emphasis is lost on account of your full mouth. Eddie's kidding, but if you did want to eat that whole crock pot he'd let you, he likes you that much. Or, he'd let you given you save enough for Roan. She loves loves loves pearl onions. 
He wrangles her into new pyjamas and brushes out her hair, but Eddie's affection and hugs can't hide bellowing rain and thunder, and by the time he's braided her hair out of her face in loose pigtails she's shaking in his lap. 
"It's really scary, is it?" he asks. 
"It's so loud," she says, her voice tenuous as a string of silk. Eddie senses a bout of tears approaching. "Daddy, I don't like it, I want it to go away." 
Eddie bundles her up into his arms again and carries her slowly back into the living room. You frown at them as they pass the kitchenette, concerned by Roan as she hides her face in Eddie's front. 
He pats her back, swaying her from side to side. Eddie can't make the rain stop, and he can't quieten thunder, but he can comfort her. He can explain it so it feels less huge and out of reach. 
"Baby," he says, approaching the window. "Have a look. It's okay, I promise, just have a look." 
Roan brings her head up reluctantly. 
"See all that? It's not scary if you don't want it to be." Rain hits the window, the sound dulled by walls but still abrasive. He turns his body so Roan can see the huge dark clouds above them. "I know the clouds are scary because they're dark, but they're dark because they're full of so much water. The water comes out, and the clouds go white again, that's all it is." 
"What about the banging?" she asks, wide eyes glassy as she peers between the window and her dad's patient smile. 
"You know lightning, the big white flash? The lightning moves through the cloud so fast that it makes a loud noise, but it's not mean. Think about if me and you were running real fast down the hallway. Our footsteps would be loud, but we'd be having so much fun we don't think it's bad." 
Roan looks out at the rainy road and field outside of the trailer window. She's pouting.
"Like a sponge?" she asks quietly. 
"Want to go look?" 
"Outside?" she asks, shaking her head vehemently. "No, dad." 
"No, in the sink! In the sink, I'll show you."
Eddie carries her to the kitchen. You're looking at him with hearts for eyes, and he has no idea what it's for but he sends you a joking wink. He props her on the counter, his hand on her knees to stop any accidental slipping, and passes her the sponge. 
"Alright, RoRo, you have the sponge and hold it under the water." He flicks on the cold top. Roan holds it under the water, watching intensely as it starts to darken. "Now squeeze it, all the colour goes away." 
She squeezes it. Cold water splashes the side of the empty sink basin and it sounds loud in the relative quiet of the kitchen. "It's like the thunder," she says.
"Exactly!" He rubs her little shoulder. "Wanna try the sponge again?" he asks. 
It's simple, but it helps her calm down, and his explanation is seemingly good enough. Roan doesn't suddenly start to enjoy the awful banging of thunder or the rain as it batters the metal roof, but she isn't petrified to tears anymore, and after a nice warm dinner she turns too lethargic to worry. 
You and Eddie sit together on the couch, Roan in his lap, dozing. You've changed into the pyjamas you keep in his top drawer, the fabric soft against his naked arm. You don't have a designated drawer and Eddie kind of loves it, all your things mixed in with his like you live here with them. You should. He's asked you twice, but you've turned him down gently each time, unafraid to be be honest about how you feel: I love you, Eddie, and I don't want us to rush into things, don't want to be the evil stepmom stealing her space and her dad. 
One at a time, then, he'd joked. First we'll get married.
"You did a really amazing job, earlier," you say, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you've never looked so pretty, not ever. 
"When?" he asks, voice warmed by affection, a stickying fondness like the word has been coated in honey.
"When you were explaining the rain to her. You're always patient. You're just as lovely as she is." 
He stares at you for too long. Seconds upon seconds, his eyes tracing the cuve of your nose, the bow of your top lip, and the softness of your jaw, up to your eyes again. 
"You're the nicest person I ever met," you say. 
"Hey, don't go spreading that around," he warns, faux-fierce. 
You're answering laugh is like silver sewn into the air, one slow loop of your breath at a time. Eddie can't believe it, this life, his girl in his lap and his love on his arm, warm and cosy and waiting out the storm without any worries at all. 
"Luckiest guy on earth," he says, kissing your hairline tenderly. "That's me." 
"Luckiest, kindest, prettiest–" 
"If you're gonna do this all night me and you are gonna have a problem." 
You burst out laughing. Roan rouses on your chest, joining in on instinct, her giggles tiny and tired. "What's funny?" she asks hoarsely. 
Eddie scoots forward in his seat to grab her drink. 
"We're just happy," he explains.
Super, uber happy, even with the bad weather. 
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ghouljams · 3 months
Note
Hello! I love your posts and have actually been following you for a long time, but through hashtags. I really enjoyed your posts about ghost!ghost and cyberpunk au. I would be very grateful if you could write a short piece of fiction. ☺️
Sorry, English is not my first language and I've never made a request before! I'm hiding behind the fence and watching you. 🫣
Let's do more cyberpunk! I love my big android Ghost <3
You sit in a loose fitting tank and shorts, your goggles pulled over your eyes to guard against the soft glow of heated metal. It's boiling in your workshop, you'd try to fix it yourself but despite your mechanical know-how, you're not an air conditioning repair expert. Not that that's stopped anyone from stopping by your cramped shop to ask about it. You curl forward, rub the leather of your glove against the burnished surface of the bot you're working on. The filigree is coming along nicely, you always enjoy being able to add your own special touch to mechanics. There's a knock against your door frame. You ignore it.
"I can't fix the a/c, take it up with the captain if you're that desperate," You toss over your shoulder, pressing the super heated wire against metal again.
"That all you're hearing today?" Ghost's voice fills the air. You sigh and lean back to switch off your machine, pushing your goggles up to look at the android. The sleek black of his face plate is unreadable as always, but his posture is casual. His arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall to watch you.
"What's broken?" You ask, not bothering to rise to whatever bait he's throwing you. He takes the opportunity to push off the wall and pick his way towards you, stepping over tubes and wires, computer cases pulled open to keep them cool. You're doing everything you can to avoid a system failure here.
"Fingers are twitchy, need a screw loosened," He tells you easily. Thank god for diagnostic checks, makes your job a hell of a lot easier when bots know what they need. You reach behind yourself for an extra stool, pushing off the casing to make room for your newest frequent flier. You pat the stool and go to grab your tools as Ghost takes a seat.
Micro-screwdrivers for micro-screws, a mini-soldering iron, a few spare wires and circuit connectors, your magnifiers, you even drag the big light over. Ghost watches you, his cameras clicking as they adjust to the new light, as the adjust to your movements. He makes a quiet noise when you get tangled in the wires hanging from the ceiling that sounds suspiciously close to a laugh. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
You take your seat and hold your hand out for his. You trace the seams of his synth-skin when he gives it to you, looking for the latch on his hand. Synth-skin always makes you a little squeamish, something Ghost obviously doesn't share when he shoos your hand away and tugs the synthetic skin off his hand like a glove. You put aside how nauseous that makes you in favor of studying the new mechanics.
You turn the dial on your magnifiers to look closer at the intricate overlay of his hand. The mechanics of it are mostly familiar to you, but you've never seen anything quite like it. One of his fingers twitches and you shift your focus to it. Curling closer to his hand, your light follows your movements, shining clearly on the interlinking strands that slip around the wires and metal. You poke one of the white ribbons with your screwdriver and his hand flinches.
"God this is beautiful," You mumble to yourself, tipping your head to try and find a new angle to work at. You tap the metal plating at the tip of his twitchy finger, following the lines of spring and ribboning to the root. You're gentle as you can pushing wire and cording(?) aside to inspect the inputs at the base of his finger.
"Fuck," Ghost grits, you glance up at him, his head turned to look away from you.
"Sorry, trying to be gentle," You offer, unsure why you're even offering it, when you look back at your work, "You wanna walk me through the specs? Might help."
"What do you wanna know?" It sounds forced. Strange as that seems to you, you find bots are just as reluctant to peak at their insides as humans are. Traces of their creators still stuck to their servos.
"The tensioning," You decide that's what it is as you locate the offending screw and grab a different screwdriver from your kit, "I've never seen this material before, it feels almost organic."
"It is organic," Ghost's hand twitches when you look up at him, pressing a little too hard against a ribbon.
"What?" You frown, "No it isn't, no one manufactures with organic materials."
"I'm a custom job." Is the only explanation he offers you. You sigh and give his tight screw a good turn. You suppose that makes sense, military made, custom for... well for the 141 you suppose.
"Military really shouldn't be using organics," You grumble, "it's illegal for a reason." You push check the other screws in his hand. Precision is always the name of the game for androids, you don't see any sense in including something as unpredictable as organic material. Not to mention is all has to come from somewhere. You eye the ribboning, the tendons of his hand that lace mechanics together like muscle, likely feeding into some sort of neural net that reads the signals of it.
"Lot of things are illegal," Ghost grumbles, his voice slipping in and out of modulation as his tone lowers, "doesn't stop folks from doin' it."
"Hows the hand feel?" You ask, redirecting the conversation somewhere more comfortable. Ghost flexes his fingers, and you watch with gross fascination as his hand moves, the tendons tensing and releasing with the metal and wires.
"Better."
"No twitches?" You hear the soft processing noise of his diagnostic before he shakes his head. Ghost grabs his glove from the top of your tool kit and tugs it over his mechanics. He locks it to the rest of his synth-skin and flexes his hand again to check everything is in order.
"None to report." He stands, pushing up with his hands on his knees. You carefully replace your tools into their respective holders, try not to think of the feeling of his- your stomach rolls at the thought. This is exactly why you became a mechanic and not a doctor.
"You don't-" You start, unsure how to phrase the question, "you don't have any other organic matter in you, do you?" Ghost stares at you for a long moment, his face plate unreadable, not even the click of his camera could clue you in to his thoughts.
"No." He replies, and the relief that passes over your face is almost worth the lie.
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comicaurora · 8 months
Note
Hello! I wanted to send my appreciation to you as a longtime fan of OSP and Auroura! I am an English Major with ADHD and your content always makes me inspired and my English Lit. Brain very happy with how good your storytelling is.
My question is what stories inspire you to write or make you want to sit down and tell a story? Your content makes me want to work on my projects, but my Adhd only last as long as I am not disturbed (i.e. need to eat or get up and move). You have always been upfront about your Adhd so my second question is how do you keep focused on your story and not burn out? (Talking as someone who is writing a novel as their thesis)
You have been a great inspiration over the years and someone I look up to as a storyteller! I wish you focus and luck! => 💝
Woo! Interesting questions!
When it comes to inspiration, I haven't really found a pattern for what works and what doesn't. The majority of the time, only new experiences/stories I haven't seen or read before work for me - rewatches and re-reads, while much more comfortable for my brain, don't tend to translate into creative inspiration for me - but it's not like a specific genre, or even a specific kind of relaxation, consistently work for me.
The way my brain works is a bit "no take only throw", as it were. I want to just sit down and make solid, steady progress in a predictable environment with a routine, but what I need is to try new things, go outside, take risks - because all those things give me new material to work with and refill the creative gas tank. When I'm stuck, I can't just hit the gas and punch through the block - I need to back up and try a new angle.
The good part of all this is that whatever engine that's running my subconscious is actually pretty good at signaling what it needs. The ADHD brain will be repelled by activities that aren't working for it and drawn to the things it needs at the time, whether that's creative energy or exercise or cleaning or doodling or listening to music or suddenly binge-watching a show that's not even all that great, and once it's got what it needs out of it - whatever that is - it'll be repelled again, either spitting out a sudden burst of creative energy or retreating to its den to chew on whatever it got out of the experience for a more slow-building reward. Little bursts of motivation and creativity pop up all throughout the day, and if you can pivot to the activity in question - or at least note down the idea you just had - you'll be able to harness that pretty nicely.
This "system" really only works for me because I have an extremely unstructured schedule and nobody relying on me to be consistent moment-to-moment. If I'm following the creative needs of my inscrutable Better Writer In The Back Of My Head, I can't be worrying about things like a consistent lunchtime or classes or a 9-to-5. All of my observations are caveat'd by the fact that I am ridiculously lucky to have the kind of freedom of movement and schedule that I can focus entirely on getting to know my brain better.
When it comes to staying focused on any one project, I've reluctantly concluded that the only way to win is not to play. Creativity needs time and diversity to recharge, and when you stall out in any given work session, it's usually because you're out of gas. This is why I maintain several projects in varying stages of "for my eyes only"-ness - a sketchbook, private writing projects, patreon doodles, music practice; even in the large-scale projects like the channel and the comic I have multiple angles of attack at any given time, where I can as needed switch between scripting, research, drawing frames, storyboarding more plot onto the end of the comic's current draft and lining/coloring/background-ing the finalized pages of the comic chapters earlier. This lets me maintain semi-steady progress on average, even if any one facet of the process is left by the wayside for potentially even weeks at a time.
If you're working on one writing project, one novel, I'd recommend giving yourself some time to do small-scale side-hobbies. It won't feel like they're helping, but they are.
I've started to think of inspiration rather similarly to the way I think about nutrition and digestion. It's a somewhat arcane process that, despite being a part of me, I don't exactly understand what's going on under the hood. If you eat only one thing, no matter what that one thing is, you're going to end up sick because you're lacking all sorts of niche micronutrients. If you parcel out a specific space of the only things you're allowed to eat, you might not get sick (as quickly) but you're likely going to become increasingly miserable as you think of the things you're not allowing yourself to try, or slowly build up highly specific forms of malnourishment by avoiding certain things entirely. But if you start listening to your body and try eating what it says it needs at any given time - oh, I could go for a rice bowl right now, oh I don't think I'm feeling something sugary today, man I could really go for some grapes - you're likely to hit a broadly good balance of health because you're hitting a broad range of things your body needs, even if you don't know all of their names or calorie counts, and your body is putting those resources to good use without your conscious input. Between my brain and my stomach, I only trust one of those to actually understand what a stomach needs to do its thing - and between me and my creative brain, most of the time it feels like I just work here.
I hope there was something helpful in all this!
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love-toxin · 1 year
Note
Are you writing for DMC now? If so, would you consider doing the smut alphabet for V? Your post about V just put me back into DMC’s chokehold omgg
OFC!!! i certainly am and i certainly will for my sweet emo husband <333
V - (a-z)
(cws: gn pronouns, switch!v, mild spit kink, roleplay, body worship/general worshipper complex, teasing, power switching, cockwarming, jealousy, a little somno)
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A = Aftercare
Taking care of you after the act is very important to him. Sex in itself is sacred to him, he doesn't downplay the sentiment of you sharing your body with him (and such a beautiful one at that) so he spends quite a lot of time ensuring that you're warm, clean, comfortable, and safe above all else. The only problem is that he's usually completely wiped out after having made love, especially if it was a little rougher than usual or went a little longer, so he has to duck out of the way of your caring hands as you try to get him to sit down and just relax--he is absolutely fine, darling, he promises not to keel over so soon. He would love to have your hands on him in any other situation, but he's determined to provide for you in this area, so you'll just have to watch for once as he stumbles and braces himself especially hard on his cane as he moves to warm up a bath for you.
B = Bondage
Bondage isn't really all that for him, and for good reasons: he likes having your hands on him, and what if he ends up not being able to get you out when you're done? Or hurts you? He'll steer clear of it save for the really gentle stuff--he'd probably be okay with handcuffs, for example, because he could get you out of them fairly easily--although he'd probably be more okay with you tying him up if you end up liking that more. He's not afraid of you getting a little rough with him, after all.
C = Cum
As sensitive as his body can be, it actually takes him quite a long time to cum. It's a little annoying for him when he's alone, since he can't get off as easily and he's honestly not terribly sure how to do it properly--but that means he's usually a bit backed up, so the cum he does release is pretty thick and completely opaque with that pearlescent shade of cream. It's quite satisfying to see that splattered all over your face, or leaking out of you when he's finished and tapping out, and he likes that you think it's especially attractive and when you beg him to give you a nice, big load he's got saved up. His tattoos glow a little when he orgasms, too, which is pretty fascinating to watch. However, he's quick to get a little meek when Griffin comes out later blabbing V's ear off about "feeling more chilled out than usual", and he has to bite his tongue while you laugh, hoping his companions don't think about it too deeply before the chattiest one never lets him live the truth down.
E = Experience
D = Dirty Secret
It takes a while before he feels comfortable enough to introduce the idea, but he really wants to try having you cockwarm him while he reads from his poetry book aloud. Whether by sitting on his lap or having you on your knees while he's nestled deep in your throat, he wants to stroke your hair and praise you between lines as he reads through his favourite poems and feels you trying not to squirm, so you don't distract him. If you do, though, he'll just close his book and insist on you getting all that energy out of your system, and sit back while you ride him all on your own or choke him down to the base until either of you have finished--and then he can go right back to reading, either with his cum leaking out of you and down into his lap, or spilling down your throat for you to whimper and try to swallow without distracting him again.
Obviously he's got very little experience, at least consciously--he probably has a few inklings of muscle memory left over from you-know-who, so his instincts are probably a little better than you would expect. But V still likes to be shown what you enjoy, and he wants to learn from the source how to please you. So a little handholding in the beginning is necessary for him to grasp how his darling likes to be touched.
F = Favourite Position
He likes any position that has you on top of him, particularly when you're riding him and he can rest his hands on your waist to steady you. Not only does it leave little room for him to lose steam and end up disappointing you when he collapses, but he loves to worship you from below and gaze up at you like you're an angel that's descended on him straight from the heavens. That's where you belong, you know: above him, above the world, because you're the most precious thing to have ever graced it.
G = Gloat
You want him to be mean? He can be mean....if you piss him off for real. You hate how protective he is? How he doesn't want you killing demons, even if it's literally your job? How he's an idiot if he thinks you can't protect yourself without him? That's a one-way ticket to earning yourself a hand on your throat and a glower that could cut you when he's got you pinned to a wall. One moan trickling out your mouth immediately catches him on to your little game, and just when you thought you had him wrapped around your finger completely, he's dropping you to fall to your knees and bringing his cane around to stick it between them. He holds it firm and nestles it right up in that sweet spot--and all you have to do to improve his mood is make yourself cum. You can do that, can you not? Or maybe you'll save your dignity and just admit that maybe, just maybe, you can't do everything by yourself.
H = Hair
The hair he's got is sparse, but a more important detail about his hair is what he likes to do with it. He loves having his hair pulled, and he can't pinpoint exactly what's so attractive about it, but whatever it is it makes his back arch and his arms shake whenever you give those black locks a good tug. He likes when you play with it too, when you smooth it away from his face, tuck it behind his ear, wash it, run your fingers through it--no matter how much Griffin makes fun of him for it, V will lay his head in your lap and let you touch his hair even when there's people around. It's impossible to help how good it feels, and the smile and the earnest "You look so handsome, honey!" when he asks you how you feel about it when it turns white just fills his heart with so much warmth.
I = Intoxication
Oh, he doesn't drink, but he's more than happy to care for you when you're stumbling over yourself. It's a little difficult when you're unsteady on your feet but when he gets you into bed, it's exponentially easier to watch over you. And each time you make a reach for him, or tug at his pants with a lusty whisper in his ear, he sweetly thanks you for the compliment with a chuckle before gently laying you back down. He's only got so much energy to spare day to day, and he'd much rather use it when you're sober rather than when you won't remember much.
J = Jack off
As aforementioned, V is a little less experienced in the self-pleasure aspect. He hasn't had much time or much thought in his head to masturbate, so if and when he does, he's a little....unsure. Pair that with the fact that it takes him awhile to cum, and he's usually burnt out and frustrated rather than relieved when he finally gives up. It honestly makes him a little wary about being intimate with you before you try it for the first time together, because he's worried he'll make it into an absolute disaster that ends in neither of you getting off. Thankfully, he soon realizes that not only is that not the case, but that the journey is often times even more exhilarating than the destination.
K = Kiss
Kisses! What a wonderful thing. V absolutely cannot get enough of them--each one has him blushing, smiling, eager for more, and that only escalates in an intimate setting. He could lay you down and kiss every inch of your body for an eternity, to study your reactions every time he kisses a more intimate or sensitive spot is a complete dream to him. He memorizes the places you like to be kissed the most, and he totally demolishes you there with his mouth as he makes love to you. If he could, he would get a tattoo of your kiss marks all over his skin, just to feel like you've always left those pretty stains on him and that you're with him wherever he goes.
L = Lazy
Less so laziness, moreso not having the strength or the energy to get up and get moving--he has more of those days than the average man, and he has endless apologies for not being able to fend for himself as he should. He's really not used to how sweet you can be about it, how you offer to close the distance for him--how you touch him under his clothes as you perch in his lap, whispers racing shivers up his spine as his head tilts back and he submits himself to be at your mercy. On those days nothing feels better than being at your beck and call, and letting you dominate him however you wish.
M = Marking
Speaking of marking, he loves that shit. Marking him, marking you, doesn't matter--he's got some inner desire that's immediately sated when he sees you or himself donned in each other's marks. Whether it's lipstick stains, bruises, bites, hickies, or even cum, V loves it so much he practically craves it. He has no shame about walking around with your mark on him and if he sees you doing the same, or even just rubbing those spots that he knows he left bruises or bites in your skin, he gets all riled up and does a lot of shifting and throat clearing until he can slip away and get you into the closest area of privacy for a little alone time.
N = CNC
Much like bondage, it doesn't really strike him as being his thing. Honestly, he dislikes the idea of you not wanting him period....but that doesn't mean he's not willing to give it a try if you'd like him to, because he's pretty good at playing the part. And the one fantasy he kinda likes is one that plays on the whole "Demons and Hunters" idea, where one of you is the demon wreaking havoc and the other is the hunter sent to destroy them. Whether the demon is dominant or the hunter is and whoever you two end up playing, it's usually a pretty good time to get straddled or to hold you down as he whispers about "reforming your fiendish ways", all while you both fight for dominance so you can take whatever you want from the other. Plus, he gets to see that sweet face of yours twist up with emotion whether it's in victory or defeat, which is by far his favourite part.
O = Oral
He definitely does not have a preference because it blows his mind whether he's giving or receiving, but he also has no preference for what he's going down on, either. He's fascinated by what you look like down there, he's got that urge inside him to explore and to discover all those things about you that only he's permitted to see, so practically anything about you is cause for his intrigue. Whether you have hair or don't, what kind of reactions you show him when he kisses his way down your inner thighs, whether you buck into him or shyly squeeze your eyes shut....goodness, you're just so perfect in every way, he could have you on his tongue for hours and never get bored of watching you cum for him. Somehow, even when you're the one sucking him off, he can end up switching it so you're the one on your back and he's the one with his head between your legs.
P = Panties
Q = Quickie
Stealing your underwear? No, of course, he would never do that....he professes it so smugly, and yet he'll turn around and you'll spot a little blot of colour peeking out from his back pocket, knowing fully well that it's yours and he's saving it for later. V's not a rampant panty thief by any means, but he certainly steals a pair every so often either to tease you, or because he genuinely misses you. Or, sometimes, if you're mad at him or he's mad at you--holding those up to his mouth and smelling them a little instantly gives him a head rush, and stirs his groin as he thinks only of you. Sometimes it's the quickest way to get over those little arguments and squabbles.
Usually V doesn't engage in a quickie unless you're the one encouraging it. He likes to think he can keep his composure even under duress and he does, but if his sweet angel needs him so badly you're tugging on his arm and whimpering even when there's people within earshot, he's certainly not going to be the one to turn you away. It's hard to get him to speed things up like that since he likes going slow, but if you take control a little bit then you'll be happy to see that he's prepared to do whatever it takes to get you off, even if it means making a fool of himself and looking heavily disheveled when you rejoin your companions.
R = Risk
Honestly, he's not risking much during sex other than his bodily health and his exhaustion. You can pretty much do whatever you want without worry, because not only is he completely devoted to you and therefore has little to no chance of catching anything, but he can't exactly....produce anything, with him not really being completely human. So pregnancy isn't too much of an issue, and he hasn't ever really had space to think about it, so as long as you're still comfortable with it he's more than happy to do it unprotected as often as you want. Of course the only thing he could be risky with is his health, so if he's having a pretty good pain day and he's in the mood, he might ask if you want to try ruining him tonight--just doing it over and over and over until he literally can't move, and you can pretty much just use him for your pleasure in whatever way you wish. It's a rare pleasure, but a pleasure for him all the same when it's with you.
S = Spit
Spitting on you he can certainly do, but spitting in you is objectively even more arousing to him. He loves that moment when he's getting ready to slide in, pushing your legs back or pulling your mouth open to lean over and spit directly inside--it's dirty and it's filthy and it makes him feel like you're his. When you moan in reply it makes him feel powerful, makes him feel wanted, and he just loses his mind when you turn right around and do the same thing to him; spit on his tongue or the tip of his cock before you start lapping at it. And when you're kissing, all sloppy and needy as you're taking his cock, and you both break away to find a trail of spit connecting your swollen lips? That's something that could make him cum so hard his whole world blurs out and he just has to cling to you and bury his face in your chest as he paints your insides white.
T = Toys
He pretends to be uninterested when you whip something like that out, perhaps even unimpressed. But if you like something, he truly can't ignore it, even though he will tease you about it until you give him a reason to shut that pretty mouth of his. "Why would I have need an artifact such as that, when I have the most delightful-hrk!" He certainly bites his tongue when you ease your new fleshlight down on the tip of his stiff cock, and very quickly help him realize there's a whole world of sensations he's never experienced--but he's going to, if you have anything to say about it. Even if he moans and whines about you fucking him with it and making him waste a cumshot inside that stupid toy, rather than inside the warm, welcoming, angelic walls of the love of his life.
U = Unfair
He's a little unfair sometimes, he's gotta balance out all that worship he's so prone to giving you, after all. He might tease you about being needy, or for staring at him when you think he's not looking, or he'll even get cocky enough to tease you when you're right on the edge and ask you to tell him just how much you want it while you're trembling on his cock. It's so cute when you whine and take it and relent into begging him for what you want, but he likes it just as much when it pisses you off and you manhandle him for it--pushing him up against a wall or pinning his wrists down while you're sat in his lap, and either groping him and mocking him for getting hard, or riding him so roughly he gasps and his hips ache while you throw his words back in his face.
V = Volume
Surprisingly, he's not terribly loud. One would think he'd have trouble controlling his volume, but he's naturally pretty soft-spoken and he's usually not too bad at keeping himself in check when he needs to. That means you might not always catch what he says, though, but you can assume it's usually something along the lines of "I love you, please keep going, you're such an angel, I'll give you everything forever, you feel like heaven on my skin," if not some poetry he's kept in mind when he read it and thought of you.
W = Wildcard
Despite having at least some respect for Dante, V is wildly jealous of him and despises any moment you spend around him, even if he's with you. You can only assume where that comes from, but either way you can use it for your benefit if your beloved pisses you off or if you just want attention from him that you're not getting. Let Dante flirt with you for a little bit, and V will be on top of you the second you're alone with an incredible kind of strength you seldom ever see. That's an occasion where you'll most likely be sneaking away with a limp and have to cover up the marks he leaves for days.
X = X-Ray
It's both adorable and shocking that V thinks he's not that big, especially since he's absolutely a shower over a grower. He's pretty long but not all slender, his cock has a curve upwards when it's stiff and the tip takes on that pretty, purplish hue when he's really needy--he's also got a few visible veins running up the length of it that are even more sensitive than he is, and although he makes it out to be not a big deal, he can't help the smugness that fills his head when he lowers you down on him that first time and sees the way you gasp and flinch as you try to adjust. If you make any comments about how you can feel him stretching you out, or that he's so deep you swear he's shaping you to fit his cock alone, it's a surefire way to have V melting like putty in your hands and giving you absolutely whatever you want.
Z = Zzz
Y = Yearning
When does V not desire you? The answer is never. You're the person who makes him feel loved, and he always feels so protected from the world whenever he's with you. Expressing that adoration he has for you can only be done in the same few ways before he has to intensify it--reading poetry and speaking sweet words to you only go so far, they don't express it completely, and when he feels he needs to show it more is when you have the sweetest, most intense sharing of souls and bodies that you may ever experience in this life.
Seeing you sleep next to him, completely at ease and comfortable in his presence, is a triumph that he never takes for granted. Never once has he thought he'd have such deep, pure love as the kind he has with you, so to see it shown in such a humble and vulnerable way makes him feel as though he has the whole world in his arms. So if you give him permission to entertain himself while you're in that most vulnerable state, V is beyond flattered--but when he does take you up on your offer, he almost always ensures he does so just before he knows you're going to wake up. It's such a privilege to make love to you at any time, but it's far more indulging to get to see those reactions of yours when you wake up to him kissing those precious spots between your legs. Or, even better, hovering over you with shaky breaths as he confesses his love, just before pressing himself inside to creampie you right as you're waking up.
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yourgirlthingy · 1 year
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Decided that Fezco deserved some love because I couldn't think of anyone else to write about and his character is just *chefs kiss*
Imagine: Fez and you are in his car high out of your minds talking about the future. The night sky is beautiful and you enjoy the fresh air... And things start to get a little bit heated -Wink-Wonk-
Warnings: Drug Abuse, Strong Language, Sexual themes, Angst kind of but not really, Vaping and Fez being an amazing boyfriend.
Word count: 816
The car was hot, a big contrast to the cold air of the night. The familiar smell of weed filling your noses. You must admit that the feeling of being high was nice, stripping you of any of your worries. It was quite late and Ash had finally agreed to go to sleep. Sometimes he is like a grown man trapped in a kids body, other times he actually acts his age. Like tonight when he put up a fight about going to bed early.
In all honestly the pair of you would usually let him stay up but the day had been stressful and you wanted time to yourselves. The edge being taken off by the drug really helping with the headache you had accumulated during the day. Your boyfriend lay next to you, eyes closed basking in his calm state.  
Leaning over, you press a kiss to his cheek causing him to open his eyes. Both of your eyes catching each others for a moment. Still bliss in this state of Euphoria. Taking another swig from the large bottle of alcohol and collapsing next to the gorgeous man. You turn on your side a sudden urge to be close to him washing over you.
Breaking the silence Fezco lets out a sigh "What do you think will happen in the future." You were slightly taken aback by the question. And although he didn't seem like it, he constantly wondered about what the future would hold. For a while you pondered about the question unsure of how to respond. Many thoughts went through your head.
Did you want to have kids? Would you still be living in this hell hole of a town? What would happen to Ash?
"I don't know," you responded honestly. He nodded somewhat agreeing with you. But there was something behind his glazed out eyes. "What do you want to happen?" Just that question set something off in him. You could tell he had an idea and you were sure it was going to be good. He let out a quick cough and began,
"I wanna get out of this town and start a family," a lazy smile was on his lips as he said this. He was thinking about what it would be like, it was obvious. "Me, you and Ash without all of the drugs and looking after my grandmother." The confession didn't shock you but just intrigued you more into his thinking. "I wanna get to a point where I can have a kid and not be worried for its life," He says with emotion clear in his voice at the end.
You just listen to him expectantly casually replying with a "Mhm," or "Yeah." He was quite optimistic but knew not to get his hopes up because anything could happen. Although you shouldn't, you couldn't help but think about how hot he looked in that moment. Eyes droopy while he talked about his future with you.
A sudden burst of energy ran over you as you leaned over and kissed him. Instinctively, he pulled you onto his lap - straddling him. This quick kiss turned into a heated make-out sesh between the two of you. The drugs coursing through your system making you feel like you're floating. Things went from zero to a hundred extremely fast. Both of you trying to get closer to each other. Like you had been starved of each others touch for far too long.
Discarding your jacket, you started to grind down onto him a muffled moan escaping your lips. You felt your body heat up more if that was even possible. Knowing that things were starting to get exciting, he flipped you onto your back on the back seat.
A surprised squeal left your lips as he began grinding down on to you adding back to the friction. "Don't start something you cant finish, mamas," he whispers in your ear. The windows steaming up from the heat in the metal box.
Tonight was definitely going to be one you remembered...
A/n: I'm going to admit, writing this made a little hot ya know. Anywho I wanna know who you want One Shots or headcanons of so my asks are always open!!!.
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yoongiofmine · 9 months
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Little do You Know | OT7 | Anniversary Special PART I
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Pair: Bangtan (ot7) x f!reader 
Summary: In a world where idols and actors can’t date, whether it be because of contracts, lack of time, or the dangers that involve having your personal life leaked, the market opened up for a new work field. Playmate Agencies emerged to supply the entertainment world with highly trained companions for hire. Bangtan is looking for new playmates. And you just happen to be the one all of them choose. 
Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, playmate au, idol au. 
Chapter warnings: Welcome to the one year anniversary special of LDYK! Exactly a year ago today, I was posting the first chapter of this fic, having no idea how long it was going to be, or how many of you would fall in love with the story, Baby and Bangtan. I had no way of ever guessing that today, a year later, I would still be writing for it, and that you’d be even more interested in this story than before. I am so very grateful for the friends that LDYK granted me and how life changing it is for me, in so many ways. 
I know this fic is a safe place for many of you, and it helped (still does) some of you get through bad moments and sad times, and be positive it did the same for me too. This past year we shared tears, laughter, screams, we hated characters and suspected others. Here’s to many more years, drabbles, special chapters and being together through it all! 
Now, for the actual warnings of this chapter… It happens during this day. It is not chronologically connected to the drabbles! Because in the drabbles, Hobi has already enlisted, but in this chapter, only Jin has left for the military. This is unedited so mind the typos and I’m sorry.
 Tumblr was being a bitch and messing up the post, so I had to split the special into two parts!! This is part one! Part II will come out in a few hours <3
WC: 5k for part one.
[Learn about my exclusive membership!]
| Series Masterlist | Drabbles Masterlist
PART II
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Your apartment hadn’t felt –or sounded– this full for a good few months now. With your boyfriends being all over the place lately, you had a pretty busy schedule with the meetings and planning of the second season of your show, it was rare to have more than one of them in a room together. 
And to have six of them there felt like a dream. 
It started with Hoseok texting the group chat, asking if anyone was free for dinner, and one by one the boys agreed. It was really surprising, too, as Jimin was in the middle of his promo schedule for FACE, Yoongi was rehearsing hard for the tour, Taehyung had official Celine events to attend, and Jungkook was finally getting his writing groove on.
You were staying at Namjoon’s place, as the two of you had dinner plans with a couple of his friends, but he didn’t even hesitate to change said plans; canceling the dinner in order to make it to the Bangtan get together. 
Deciding to have it in your apartment was easy, as it was in their old dorm building and you had enough space for everyone; not to mention the memories held within those walls.
It was supposed to be a chilled evening, the boys had ordered takeout from the restaurant you liked that didn’t deliver, which meant they had to ask HYBE staff to pick it up for you. While Yoongi was rummaging through your liquor cabinet to choose a wine that could go well with the amount of food they always ordered, Namjoon was reaching for platters and bowls to put the dinner in once it arrived, Taehyung was organizing the plates and cutlery at the dinner table. 
Jungkook was in a corner connecting his phone to the bluetooth system to play a nice ambient playlist and Jimin was overseeing everything. You were slightly overwhelmed in the best way, not really used to their chaos anymore, it seemed, but filled with love and longing. 
“We're gonna need a bigger table at the new house.” Hoseok spoke as an afterthought, standing a couple steps from you, watching Taehyung work.  
“What's wrong with my table?” you wanted to know, mimicking his pose with hands on your hips. It was an old table, sure, but it came from the boys’ old dorm, so you cherished every scratch and stain it held. 
“It's great, baby, but where will the children sit?” Jung Hoseok of all people was asking about kids, which made you blush instantly. 
“They can sit on my lap as far as I'm concerned.” Taehyung answered as you were too gobsmacked to utter any noises besides a tiny gasp.
“All five of them?” Namjoon asked as he walked to the table with a small mountain of serving dishes. 
At the precarious way the tall man was holding everything, Jimin rushed to help and avoid a disaster. 
“If we're having five, they should have their own tiny table next to ours.” Jimin butted into the conversation and you felt like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as no sound came out. “The kind they can draw on, and then we just wipe it clean.” 
“But won't the first baby be lonely while waiting for their brother or sister?” Jungkook stepped closer to help Jimin with the plating at the center of the table after the playlist was up and running. “Having to sit all alone at a separate table?” 
“Don't worry, we're having twins, so the girls can sit together.” Taehyung sounded so sure it actually scared you a little. 
As the five of them went into a tangent about whether or not any of them had twins in the family to make it a little more probable for you to carry them in the future, and the odds for them both to be girls, Yoongi approached you from the side. 
He offered you a wine glass, which you gladly accepted and took a large gulp of the sweet, smooth liquid. 
“Are you listening to them?” you asked Yoongi as you used your free hand to smooth out his hair as stood up at an odd angle. He had just taken off the weird, animal print, fluffy bucket hat he was wearing a lot lately. 
“Yeah, sorry if it's overwhelming you.” Yoongi chuckled and you were glad at least someone understood. “They don't mean any of that for right now.”
You’d be the first to agree to having kids, you were engaged to be married, all of you were financially stable enough to raise ten kids more than comfortably. But it wasn’t the time to start talking about it, not when Jin wasn’t around to participate, and not when they were about to enlist and leave you all alone. 
“They're talking five kids, Yoongi.” you semi hushed as Hoseok spoke about car models to fit them all. A mini bus might be a better choice. 
“I know, but don't worry,” Yoongi continued, an arm wrapping around your waist. “I just have to make their little table a little longer to fit more chairs–”
“Not you too!” you groaned, squirming out of his grasp as he was obviously having fun along his members. “What is it with this baby talk?!” 
“They're just horny.” Yoongi justified with a shrug. 
“Well, talking about birthing five kids is not the way to get me in the mood.” 
You were shaking your head as you walked around the kitchen, wine glass in hand, trying to see if there was anybody else you could help. There wasn’t much to do until the food arrived and every now and then one of the boys would laugh so loud it made you chuckle along; however reluctantly. 
You were watching them interact with each other, falling a little to the sidelines, heart clenching at the realization that you actually really missed this. You saw them as much as you could, it was rare for you to even sleep in your own bed, always with one of them. 
It made you want to rush the contractors so that your home could be done at once and you could convince them to move in together already. You’d even agree to a playroom if it meant your lovers would be this close all the time. 
“Are you feeling alright?” Namjoon sneaked up on you, standing in front of you and prying the glass from your hand to place it on the counter behind you. 
“I’m fine, Joonie.” you smiled as you felt his warm hand holding the side of your face, closing your eyes as you took a deep breath. 
“You seemed a bit off earlier.” his thumb rubbed on your cheek as you leaned into his touch. “You know I worry.” 
“I love that you're all here, I miss having this apartment so full.” you offered him a small smile, hands resting on his chest just because. “But it doesn't seem fair for all of us to be having fun together, talking about the future, while he's not here, you know?”
“I do. But I'm sure hyung just wants you to be happy.” Namjoon assured you, pressing his lips to the top of your head. 
“I hope oppa is doing well.” you pouted. “I didn’t get his flowers this month yet.” 
“Ah, that explains it.” your boyfriend chuckled, pulling you into his arms and burying you into his chest. “I hope hyung knows he’s really putting a lot of pressure on us with this flower thing.”
“He’s a good oppa.” you sighed, wrapping your arms around the man. 
Ever since Jin left for the military, you received monthly flower arrangements with little handwritten notes that he arranged to be delivered to you; no matter where you were in the world. You were sure some of the others, or even Hana, had a little hand on it. 
But this month in particular, you were really expecting your flowers. Your one year anniversary with the seven men was coming up soon, in just a few days, in fact, so you knew Seokjin would do something big, since he wouldn’t be able to be there with you in person. 
The ringing of the intercom startled you, but you didn’t let go of Namjoon or move a muscle to pick it up, knowing one of the others likely would. 
“Hi, sunbaenim.” Jungkook, your sweet boy, picked up the call. “Yeah, that’s our staff with our orders, you can let them up. Thank you so much.” 
“Food is coming!” Taehyung chirped as the baby bird that he was. 
Ever since the whole Jia thing, no one was allowed into the building without being let in by you; unless it was the seven men. They lived in the building for a lot longer than you had, knew all of the workers, and at this point every single one of them knew of your relationship. 
The boys made a commotion when the doorbell rang, four of them running off to pick up the takeout bags from their staff. You, Namjoon and Yoongi stayed by the table to tear through the bags and open them up to serve on the nicely placed platters already waiting in the middle of the table. 
"We didn’t have enough hands for the last take-out," Taehyung was telling everybody, voice a little rough from the weight of the bags he held in each hand. "Baby, can you go get it?" 
"Sure." you nodded, letting Yoongi continue pouring the jajangmyeon in a bowl for you. "By the way, I don't mind the staff coming into my apartment." 
"We know, but safety." Hoseok explained, as he was the last one to come in. 
You squeezed his arm in passing, offering him a thankful smile. On your way down the hallway towards the entrance, you heard chatting and familiar voices from staff you knew from HYBE. Then the elevator doors opened and closed and you rushed in case they were leaving with the last bag of food. 
"Wait–" you tried to call, but it was too late. 
The staff were gone, but right by the opened door you found a bouquet of flowers that made your heart clench and your eyes fill with water. 
Jin's flowers. 
You picked them up through teary eyes, the prettiest mix of purple and white flowers, with green foliage to compose the arrangement. You held it to your chest, inhaling deeply to breathe in their scent; so sweet, but with a hint of fig leaves and cedar wood. 
You didn't know if the staff had sprayed Jin’s perfume on the flowers or if you missed your oldest boyfriend so much you were actually losing your mind. 
"Do you like them, sweetheart?" 
At his voice, your heart dropped to your stomach and started to beat faster than his silly raps. Your head lifted to look at Seokjin standing just outside your door. 
His eyes were a little tired, but the sweet smile you loved and missed so much was there. The last time you saw Jin, he was in uniform, but tonight he just looked so familiarly normal –just in light jeans, a white shirt and one of his favorite jackets– that it made the tears in your eyes swell up even faster. 
"Come here, baby, please." Jin pleased with a half chuckle, half plea, as you were frozen in place. 
It took a lot of self control on your part to gently place the flowers on the side bench by the entrance and not just drop them on the floor to get to him faster. 
Jin had his arms open as you rushed to him, standing on the tips of your toes to hug him by the neck. He held you impossibly tight, arms around your waist, almost lifting your feet off the floor. 
You sniffed and cried quietly, so incredibly happy to have him there that it was a little overwhelming. 
"What are you doing here?" you asked him without letting go. "Did you run away? I can hide you–" 
"No, sweetheart," his laugh made your breath stutter and you parted from him just to look at his handsome face. "I have two days off, so I wasn't about to miss our anniversary dinner." 
"Our anniv–"
"Unfortunately I couldn't make it on the actual day, but the members agreed to do something a little earlier." he explained, drying your tears with his thumbs. "I hope you don’t–" 
You held him by the sides of his face and pressed your lips together. It was just a touch, it didn't go any further, but just what your soul needed. 
Slowly things started making sense. How the dinner plans were made in such a haste, how every single one of your lovers dropped whatever plans they had in order to come over tonight. The food from your favorite restaurant, the fussing over plates and platters instead of just eating out of the take-out boxes, the lack of flowers this month so Jin could hand deliver them himself. 
"Let’s go in, the boys are probably dying to see you–" 
"Yes we are, stop hogging hyung!" Jungkook’s voice was whiny, coming from just around the corner, so you knew they might all be waiting nearby. 
You giggled, wiping your eyes and hoping your waterproof mascara held its ground. Parting from Jin, you picked up your flowers as he ran outside just to pick up his chunky army backpack to bring inside, your brain slowly making sense of his words, the fact he had two days off. 
You didn't dwell on it much, knowing he likely wanted to see his family in the meantime, not like you could keep him all to yourself. 
Only after he took off his shoes and you closed the door, the two of you walked deeper into the apartment so the seven men could finally be reunited for the first time in months. 
Jungkook was the first to attack his hyung, both of them letting out happy squeals and tiny jumps. 
As you watched them all hug, some of them had wet eyes and words of missing to exchange, your heart grew seven sizes. This was it. All you could ever possibly need. 
"Are you feeling better now?" Namjoon walked to you after their hugs and hellos were all done, wiping a lone tear from your cheek. 
"I'm perfect." you giggled, hoping he'd feel how thankful you were for him. For all of them. 
"Let me take this, doll." Jimin approached you to take your flowers, kissing your cheek in the process. "I'll put them in water for you." 
"Thank you, Minie." 
You followed the seven of them to the kitchen/dining room area, most of them already taking their usual spots. 
"Did you really have no idea I was coming?" Jin asked you as he took off his jacket and cap, placing both at the back of his chair. "I swear I thought someone would have spoiled the surprise." 
"How could I have guessed?!" you chimed, taking the spot next to Jin’s and in front of Hoseok. 
"Well, I did place down eight plates instead of seven." Taehyung chuckled and your eyebrows raised, eyes doing a quick scan around the table to make sure that it was true. 
"Oh." you felt yourself blush at the realization. "I guess my brain didn't see anything wrong with it. There's always eighth of us." 
"For now." the second youngest wiggled his brows but instead of feeling overwhelmed about the baby talk again, you only giggled. 
"Did I miss anything?" Jin asked from your left, cringing as he realized the irony behind the question. 
Instead of bringing up just how much he missed, you told him: "Yoon is making a table for our children, for the new house." 
You watched as Jin’s ears grew red and his plush lips parted in a pretty smile. When you looked at Yoongi on the other end of the table, he had pink, round cheeks and a soft gaze. 
Once everyone was seated and glasses of wine were filled and passed around, the eating started. And with it came the chaos of 'hyung, I was gonna take that piece of pork belly', 'be faster next time', 'can someone pass me the kimchi?', 'is that chicken too spicy?', 'fuck this tastes good', 'it should, Jungkook looks like he's about to punch someone', 'did we even order enough?', 'I don't think we can even finish all this', 'there's ramen in the kitchen if we're still hungry'.
You only realized you were just watching them, with the silliest, most elated smile on your lips, when Jin placed your plate in front of you, full of a little bit of everything; just leaving out the tteokbokki that he knew you no longer ate. 
"Thank you, oppa." you smiled at him sweetly, getting a kiss on your forehead in response. 
"You’re looking really good, hyung." Hoseok pointed out. "Even better than last time we went over to see you." 
"They feed us all really well there." Jin told everyone, which seemed to satisfy all of them. "Being a Private First Class also has its perks." 
"We're very proud of you, hyung." Jimin was smiling so much his eyes were tiny.
"And I'm waiting for you lot, so just hurry up." Jin's voice grew a little higher, as if scolding the others for taking too long. 
"I do not approve of that!" you told them with a scowl. 
"You sound like Yoongi hyung’s dad." Hoseok told you and his laugh was the first to tip off everyone else's. 
-
Shortly after dinner was chomped down, some of you opened more bottles of wine, others chose to move to stronger alcohol, and you gathered on the big couch of your living room. For what was supposed to be an anniversary dinner, it was pretty chilled and calm; just you and your seven lovers together, the way it should always be. 
And you wouldn’t change it for the world. 
You were all more than used to big events, fancy dinners, designer clothes, having hair and makeup done. You could hardly believe that was all part of your own job description at this point. So to have the boys in jeans and casual clothes, while you were wearing a simple lounge wear, cotton dress was all you could ever want for a night like this. 
For the background, Taehyung took over the soundtrack with a mellow jazz playlist, and parallel conversations were going on all around you, now a lot more calm than the dinner chaos. 
“If someone had told me ten years ago that we'd still be together, and sharing a girlfriend, I would not have believed them.” Namjoon’s words broke the easy quietness, making everyone grumble in certain levels of agreement. 
“I'm your future wife, darling.” you corrected the man sitting next to you, pressing your lips to his heating cheeks. 
“That you are.” he smiled and dimples poked his cheeks.
“You know, ARMY keeps tagging me in an old video interview where you were asked about what you would do if you all liked the same girl.” you giggled as you took a small sip of your wine, sitting back against the L couch so you could look at all of them. 
“Did people really ever ask us that?” Hoseok laughed, bringing his whiskey glass to his lips. If he was still laughing, he wasn’t drunk yet. 
“Oh yeah. Your answers were pretty interesting.” you nodded with a lazy move of your head, crossing your legs and raising an eyebrow. 
“What did we say?” Jimin’s drink of choice was champagne, which surprised none of you. The man leaned over with his elbows on his knees to give you his full attention. 
“Only two of you said they would fight for the same girl.” you told them while bringing the glass to your lips, hiding your smile as the complaints started. 
“What–”
“That doesn’t sound right–”
“We were young and dumb–” 
“I wouldn’t have said that–”
“Uh huh.” you insisted, pursing your lips as if disappointed. “Only two of you said they wouldn't give up on the girl, even if the other members loved her too.”
“It was obviously me–” Taehyung shrugged, full of smugness. 
“You wish, baby bird.” you shook your head, as he definitely wasn’t one of the two in question. 
“Who was it, then?” Yoongi wanted to know, a scoff ready on his tongue. 
“It was me.” Jungkook admitted from where he was sitting between Jimin and Taehyung. 
“Yeah sure–” Jimin couldn’t help but laugh. 
“He's right.” you smiled to the youngest, who sent one back with a flushed face. “Kook said he wouldn't give up and try to beat the others.”
“How do you remember that?” Seokjin asked Jungkook with wide eyes of surprise. 
“Joon was the other one to say he wouldn’t step back.” you told the room, placing a hand on the man’s thigh. 
The river of complaints started again, with Jungkook and Namjoon looking proud while the others tried to explain themselves, justify their answers or make you believe their opinions changed a lot from back then. 
“It's alright, I wouldn't expect you to have to fight each other for me.” you waved them off, not wanting to start this into a RUN BTS episode where they had to win an argument with weird explanations. “Even though you kinda did at the beginning.” 
“Ahh, the good old days.” Jimin giggled, knowing he was one of those who tried the hardest. “The sabotaging the pact and trying to get your attention.” 
“Thank god it didn’t work.” Jin laughed with red ears from the attention, as he only had half a glass of wine during dinner and no more alcohol. 
“Hey, once ot7 always ot7.” you grinned. 
You couldn’t help but think of your early days, when you were just starting to work for them, but the sparks were always there. How they fought for your attention instead of sharing you, how it caused a certain level of stress –not only for you, but for everyone around them–. 
The eight of you really came a long way since then, turning a work relationship into friendship, attraction into love. With trust, communication, patience and respect, the eight of you became a lot more than you could have ever dreamt of. All of their families accepted you as part of their own, your father wasn’t only okay with you having seven future-husbands, but he actually liked them all. Minsuk loved them, HYBE was okay with it, ARMY approved of you. 
Surely, there were challenges and moments you grew overwhelmed; especially when wishing you could be with all of them at the same time. But you made it work. The love you felt for them was worth it all. 
It was with your heart full of nostalgia and longing that you asked:
“You guys remember our first kiss?” 
“Kinda hard to forget, kitten.” Yoongi was the first to agree and his brothers did the same. 
“I wanna do it again.” you smiled at the few confused faces you found and the sly smiles of others. 
“Baby, I don’t think we can go back in time.” Hoseok chuckled, obviously not following. 
“That’s not what I’m asking.” you assured him, getting up from the couch. 
You liked how you weren’t shy around them anymore, not afraid to ask for what you wanted. You felt the most comfortable around them, even when standing in the middle of the living room, wine glass forgotten by the center table, under their curious and heated stares. 
“I wanna do the fanchant again.” you told them and all you heard were heavy breaths. 
And then Jungkook mumbled: “Dammit, I can’t catch a break.” 
You giggled at his pout and the crossing of his arms, almost missing the way Namjoon stood up to stalk toward you. Namjoon was still a great deal taller than you, just as muscular –or maybe even more so– than he was back then. His large hands went to your waist, just like they had back then, and pulled you into him. 
Your hands rested on his shoulders and you were smiling. The butterflies were still there, the excitement about kissing him; even if you had done it before about a million times. This time around, Namjoon knew you wouldn’t pull back from him, he knew he didn’t need to hesitate, leaning in to place his plush, full lips against yours. 
Namjoon hugged you by your middle, slightly lifting you onto your toes and your hands squeezed at his strong shoulders. Just like the first time, you were the one to swipe your tongue between his lips, making him smile and give you the opening you needed to lick into his mouth in order to swipe and move your tongue along with his. 
The kiss was over after a couple of minutes and you practically stumbled on yourself as the leader let you go and your heels met the wooden floor of your living room. 
You turned to find Seokjin still seated, ever the patient man, never wanting to overwhelm you. 
“Oppa.” you all but whined, making him stand up and meet you in the middle. He had definitely changed the most; from his thicker build because of the military training, to the fresh buzz cut instead of his longer haircut. You ran your hands through the back of his head, smiling as you searched his eyes: “My handsome darling.” 
“Only yours, sweetheart.” 
Jin cradled the side of your face, slightly calloused thumb caressing your cheekbone. His plush, pouty lips were just as soft as they were back then, and you parted your mouth even easier, granting him access to you. Just like that first one, Jin’s kiss was slow and gentle, but the squeeze to your hips was new. You knew all sides of him now, and you also knew it was his more dominant part coming out. 
Your arms circled his neck as you sighed in bliss, wanting the kiss to go on forever. 
But then he was pulling away from you and Yoongi was taking his place. 
Yoongi was ginger the first time you kissed him, now his hair was raven black and not as long as you wished for –you were still sad about him cutting it just a few weeks ago–, but he was just as perfect. You were more than breathless when his body met yours, arms circling your waist as he chased for your mouth; pulling you into a deep, needy kiss that was a lot more heated than the ones before. 
Your hands tangled in his hair as his tongue swirled around yours, making you moan into his mouth at the groan Yoongi let out when you tugged on his locks. His mouth tasted of the whiskey he’d been sipping, lips moving in lazy drags. 
You felt a presence behind you and you knew it was Hoseok, simply letting go of Yoongi –albeit reluctantly– to turn to the taller man. You felt as though you were in a haze, a lot more affected by these kisses than you had been the first time. Your heart was pounding in your chest when your lover held you by the jaw with one hand and by the waist with the other. 
Hoseok had a lowered gaze as he licked his lips, taking his sweet time swiping his thumb across your bottom lip, playing with the mess his hyung left behind. 
“Please…” you whined, but you weren’t the only one, hearing ragged breaths and tiny moans around the room. 
“Begging for us already, pet?” Hoseok teased and your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head in want. 
That’s when he took pity on you, licking into your mouth, dominating the kiss from the start. He barely gave you time to follow up the licks of his tongue, your hands resting on his chest to feel his breath and quick paced heart. 
When he bit your bottom lip with a tad more force than needed, you pressed your thighs together and tried to chase him back. 
“My turn now, doll.” Jimin was announcing as Hoseok let go of you. “Come here.” 
All you did was take one tiny step in his direction, body practically melting into his as your arms wrapped around his middle and he locked you into him by resting around your neck. Jimin’s body was all hard and warm, his plush lips were wet and luscious as he kissed you hard and deep. 
You were more than a little bothered, shamelessly pressing yourself into him as you let out tiny moans, fingertips tracing his spine. Jimin sucked on your bottom lip before letting go and you really wished your lovers would kiss you longer. Or maybe the kisses were just quick in your dizzy mind. 
“Look at you…” Taehyung whispered as he took his best friend’s spot. 
He held both sides of your face to peck your lips repeatedly, making you smile and sigh, trying to keep up with him. And then his big hand and long fingers slipped into your hair, tilting your face to look up and he finally kissed you; deep, hard and sloppy. Your back bowed as Tae licked all over your mouth, making you moan harder as he mirrored your sounds. 
You were clinging to him as your head tilted this way and that, legs about to give out at any point now. 
When Tae pecked your lips one last time, you turned to look for Jungkook, the last one, your sweet bun. But there was little about him that was sweet right now. Just like that night, he was still sitting on his spot, unmoving. But instead of looking shy or nervous, like he had back then, Jungkook looked smug and challenging. 
“I’m waiting, noona.” he spread his legs a little wider, invitingly, as all eyes were on you and whether or not you’d fall for his noona act. 
You went to him nonetheless, obediently, perching yourself on his lap, one knee on each side of his hips just as you had that night, just like you kept doing ever since. You pushed his hair off his face, watching it fall back into place softly; locks so much longer than you’ve ever seen on him. Jungkook’s bottom lip was red bitten, slightly wet from running his tongue over it, begging to be kissed. 
With a hand on the back of his neck, as Jungkook’s were on your waist, you kissed the younger man, tongue lazily rolling around his, breathing deep and hard through your nose as he followed your lead. Jungkook was letting out tiny moans, spurring you on and making you rock your hips on his lap, feeling the hardness you knew you’d find pressing against the inside of your thigh. 
“Are we going again?” Taehyung sounded fucked, sitting to Jungkook’s right. 
“Yes.” you were the one saying it as you searched for the man who asked it, grabbing him by the shirt as you leaned over him to press your lips together again. 
Jungkook was still guiding your hips above his, lips meeting the column of your throat as you kissed his closest hyung. 
“Well, fuck.” Namjoon was cursing from somewhere around the room, clearly watching you. 
“That’s definitely not what happened after that first kiss.” Yoongi mused, but his voice sounded raspy and even lower than usual. 
“It’s what should have happened.” Jimin chirped, holding you by the jaw to take you from Tae and kiss you himself. 
You were panting on Jungkook’s lap as his hands slipped to your ass, continuing to guide your hips over his, rubbing himself against you and making you moan into Jimin’s mouth, who promptly swallowed it. 
“Maybe we should take a little break, sweetheart?” Seokjin sounded half gone, but you knew him, he’d try to look out for you and take a step back. 
“No,” you groaned against Jimin’s lips, pulling away from him to look at the others. “I want this. I haven’t had all seven of you in the same room for months, and I don’t know when I’ll have it again.” 
As Taehyung kissed the column of your throat on one side, Jimin did the same on the other. Jungkook started kissing your collarbones, nibbling at your skin, making his way to your chest. The three of them weren’t really listening to what the hyungs were discussing, which you appreciated. 
“What is it you want, exactly, baby?” Hoseok was trying to remain the voice of reason, even if you could see his eyes were stuck to Jungkook’s hands palming your ass. 
“All of you keep saying I’m the Bangtan slut.” you moaned as you felt someone’s hand palming one of your breasts. Too small to be Tae’s, so you guessed it was Jimin. “It’s about time I prove it.” 
All of them but Seokjin groaned in levels of agreement, which made you frown. You could understand Jin’s hesitation, you had done something like this before, where they took their sweet time fucking you, at the very start of your relationship, when Hoseok’s punishment was over. And you actually passed out for a few minutes there, making Seokjin put a pause on the whole thing in order to make you take a break. 
This time, you were pretty clear about wanting them all at the same time. You didn’t know the logistics of it, you were still one person, and there were seven of them. But you loved them, you trusted them, and you needed this. 
“Oh my god, is the gang-bangtan finally happening?” Taehyung’s intrusive thoughts were just his normal thoughts, winning every time and making you laugh. 
“Would you like that?” you turned to him with a smile that was too sweet for your next question. “Would you all like to fuck me at the same time?”
Jungkook had his face between your tits, agreeing with a nod. Jimin was next to mumble a yes against your neck. The older men where a little more hesitant but, to your surprise, Yoongi was the first to stand up while saying: 
“If you’re really okay with it.” 
“It was my idea, babe.” you reminded him, reluctantly, slipping off Jungkook’s lap. Looking at the three that weren’t completely on board yet, you said: “You can decide what you want to do and meet us in the bedroom.” 
You walked away first, taking a few steps to reach your bedroom door, knowing you were being followed by at least a few of them. If some, if any, of them didn’t feel comfortable or into it, you wouldn’t hold it against them, you wouldn’t even be upset. You had never done something of this magnitude, with all of them involved, and you knew you basically threw the idea out there. 
But then again, you didn’t know Jin was coming over tonight, you had no way of planning this beforehand. And it was a chance you weren’t about to miss, not knowing when they would all be together like this again. Besides, it was your anniversary –a few days early, sure, but it’s not like the military could care about it enough to move their schedule so Jin could be out by then–. 
As soon as you walked into the room, hands were on you.
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brandogenius · 2 months
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Omg your boygenius x young artist hc was so cute!! Just like think of how they’d tease you like a little sibling (maybe muna does too if you’d wanna write them in) like maybe your parents send you your senior yearbook since you might have not gotten it yet and they are just horrified you JUST graduated highschool and tease you about how young and cute you look in your photos😭 Imagine them just SCREAMING when you win a grammy like for best new artist and the way they’d go to WAR for you if the tabloids were going after you or your getting a lot of hate or like something happens. Think they went to your graduation and we’re just so proud! ok i’m ranting but your writing is so good and being 19 also maybe i’m projecting but you write them SO WELL!!
THANK YOU 😭😭😭🫶 i’m glad you like them!! i love it so much the dynamics between younger reader and the boys in a younger sibling way is my ultimate favourite!!
tiny bit of projecting in this one too mainly because i live for this trope / (if it’s even a trope) hc blurbs whatever you call it !
i’m trying my hardest to base it off an american school system but since i’m not american i apologise if it isn’t correct trying my best to be as actuate as possible !
i’m not too familiar with muna unfortunately! id love to write them in but feel like i wouldn’t do them justice! in the future 100%
‼️ RPF‼️
HC - boygenius & younger! artist
adding on from here :D
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- taking away with some stuff anon said the boys are absolutely HORRIFIED when they realise you graduated school last year. what do you mean you were class of 2023?
- “this is a whole ass child we’re talking to”
- i like to imagine they DID go to your graduation. you knew of the boys since your junior year of highschool. opening for them on their tour when they were in your state.
- so many photos taken. ones with you and the boys in your graduation outfit. it was such a sweet moment. your parents meeting the boys for the first time and they surprise you by going to a nice restaurant. you, your parents and the boys.
- booking the biggest table in the restaurant it’s chaos. laughter and chatter is made. phoebe demanding your parents to bring the yearbook when they drop you off for tour.
- i can imagine the boys forgetting you’re not legal, you’re only 19. the boys going to after party’s with your for music awards and freaking out. “SHIT YOU’RE A FUCKING CHILD” julien is grabbing the car keys to drag you back to the tour bus
- when you get your year book you wish the ground would swallow you up.
- the scene unfolds by the boys acting like a pack of wolves that haven’t eaten in months. all grabbing the book to try and peak into it. lucy being the tallest holds it over all of yours head having the perks of being the tallest
- phoebe turns into an ankle biter in that moment. desperate to laugh at your photos and gossip with you about the tea
- you and the boys spend the rest of the night surrounded by the small tour buss table going through all the photos.
- “that guy? he is a bitch don’t like him. used to be mean to me in class”
- the boys got personal beef with some teenagers they never even met before “it’s on sight for real”
- trips to the theme park. it’s so random but you really wanted to go so up they went one day with you like “road trip!”
- the day you win a grammy is the day they feel like they’ve achieved in life.
- at this point they feel like they raised you. i feel like you might be like 25 or something when you get the grammy “they grow up so fast sniff sniff”
- absolutely goes chaos. standing on chairs and cheering (like julian on sunday 😭)
- they’d go ankle biter mode when tabloids and news articles come for you. it is fake news and rumours yet they are prepared to defend you on their LIFE
- defending you, subtly indirecting / actually going as far as @ ting on main twitter. they don’t take no shit and will immediately be by your side!
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AITA for not wanting to writing a positive review of my brothers moral character?
(🖌️ to find later)
TW for drug use and misogyny
My (24X) older brother (26M) recently ended up getting arrested and charged with some very serious charges due to his distribution of fentanyl. I’m not going to get too into the legal stuff for obvious reasons but he could end up in prison for up to 30 years. I’m not any type of fan of the legal system (US, for clarification) and am not a fan of the situation but can definitely see some silver linings to him being in there. I wish there was an actually system of help he could get but with the rate he has taking drugs and the way his circle of friends was dropping (4 funerals in 6 months) my mom and I were fairly certain he was going to over does soon and he showed no signs of wanting to seek help. So ya know, at least he’ll be alive.
But that’s not fully the issue. My mom and I talked and she said his public defender wanted letters from people to prove his good moral character to read in court and, as his little sibling, figured of course I would provide one. But I truly have nothing good to say about the man’s ‘moral character’ the last time we had a conversation was before I moved out over two years ago. When I moved out my roommates I was moving in with said they didn’t want him to know our address as they would be living there too and didn’t want him bringing his violence into their lives. He blew up called me a bunch of homophobic slurs and that was pretty much it.
Before that he was my biggest reason for wanting to move out. He regularly calls my mom a bitch and a c*nt. He never cleaned up after himself because ‘there was two women in the house and we were f*cking (r-slurs) if we thought he should have to do anything.’ Lovely things like that. He punches holes in the walls, says slurs like they’re the only descriptive words he knows, steals anything not locked up (and smashes through doors and windows even then to get to it), and hounds my mom for money non-stop, usually until she gives in. In short I have nothing positive to say about his moral character.
Now my mom is a very loving mom. Far more than I could be at this point and is in denial about the man her son is. She would say she’s spent the last decade living with the personification of meth and heroin and she will get her son back some day if he could only get clean. But none of that has actually been him. I just can’t have that kind of optimism or denial towards the situation. She’s going to be very upset if I don’t submit something because she (fairly, again fuck the prison system) doesn’t think he should be locked up for upwards of 30 years.
I’m a good writer. I could come up with something. None of it really true but it can sound nice. Make my mom feel better (gods know she needs a break) but just thinking about it makes me feel gross. I don’t even know if it will matter much in court, but I don’t know how awful of me it would be to abstain.
There’s obviously more nitty gritty to the situation but this is long as it is. I just hope I didn’t make my mom sound bad because I do want to say she’s a loving woman in an abusive situation and I hope it’s not to much to ask that no one be too cruel to her in the notes, thanks.
What are these acronyms?
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ya-zz · 3 months
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I have a feeling somebody already requested this as it's painfully obvious at this time of year (if somebody did indeed request something similar ignore me lol), but.... Christmas with Ramattra? Just some cute gen fluff of making this does-not-care-about-human-traditions robot go huh, this is kind of nice actually. Headcanons or fic, whichever you prefer/have time to make :)
Uploading this one on Christmas Eve, I will get to the one before this request before the year is over-
You were the only one who requested a Christmas theme fic! Such a pleasure to write, as always~
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Ramattra x Reader (gen)
Word count: 1267
Ramattra had spent many years on his own and never really grew accustomed to human traditions. He never took part for many reasons; he never fit in, never knew what to do, never had anyone to spend the holiday with. 
When you stumbled into his life, quite literally, one fateful night, he never once looked back. You had been a grounding mechanism for him, one that he relied on more times than he would like to admit it. 
He was pulled out of his meditative state by you almost screaming in the apartment you shared with him. 
“Rama! Ramattra, look!” Your voice was higher than usual as excitement rang loud. 
The omnic peers in from the other room, noticing that you’re staring out of the window watching the snow fall. When you turn to face him after hearing the telltale creak in the floor, he sees the way your eyes are lit up and the smile on your face pulled a few wires inside of him. 
“It is just snow.” He states, wandering over. 
“I know!” You grab him by the arm and pull him closer to the window. “I know it’s only snow but for someone who rarely ever saw snow, even as a kid, makes me wanna be a kid again.” 
The omnic hums, staring out of the window with you. “It snowed a lot in Nepal, back at the monastery.” 
“Really?” You turn to look at him, curiosity in your eyes. “Did you ever want to go out and make snow angels?” 
“Snow angels?” 
“You lay in the snow and move your arms and legs like this.” You mimic the motions, still smiling. 
“No. It had never once crossed my mind.” 
“Well,” you start, hands on your hips. “When the snow gets a little thicker, we are going out and making snow angels.” 
“I would rather short circuit.” He chuckles, but doesn’t seem opposed to the idea.
So, you sat by the window watching the snow fall for a few hours. There were several other children and families having fun in the snow, having snowball fights and making scuffed snowmen. It warmed your heart watching them, knowing that soon, when those families have gone to bed, you and Ramattra could go out and have your own fun for the evening. Afterall, it was Christmas Eve. 
It hit 11pm by the time the snow had fallen thick enough and there were no other children outside. Grabbing your hat, scarf and gloves, you practically drag the omnic out of the comfort of the apartment and out into the cold, wintery air.
“Slow down.” Ramattra demands, letting you pull him outside and to the park not far from the apartment. 
“Come on!” You keep pulling him before throwing the park gate open and dragging him to a nearby snow patch. “Lighten up a little.” 
Ramattra scoffs as he watches you throw yourself down into the snow, arms and legs spread as you start making your angel. 
“Join me.” You giggle despite feeling the cold wetness through your coat. 
It takes the omnic a moment to think about the damages that could be caused by doing such an activity, but seeing the smile on your face, the excitement within your eyes, he dismisses the negative thoughts and kneels down before falling onto his back into the snow. 
His system flares up with temperature issues, but he ignores them to move his arms, creating his own omnic snow angel. 
When you stand up a few moments later, offering a hand to your partner who takes it willingly, you both step back and look at the angels in the snow. 
“Mine looks wrong.” Ramattra states, tilting his head to the side as he brushes off the snow from his shoulders. 
You giggle in response, nudging him with your elbow. “It doesn’t look too bad!” The smile never wavered as you hide behind the lie. It looks crooked, one arm shorter than the other and just two legs pointing out. 
Ramattra catches you smiling but dismisses it with a sigh as he heats his internal mechanisms.
“We never had snow thick enough to do that when I was younger.” You say, a sadness filling your tone. “Whenever it did snow, it wouldn’t last long, or it would snow at night and the kids who were awake early got to play in it all and it turned to slush.” 
He turns to you, a feeling of sympathy flowing through him. 
“Besides, living in the city meant it was always warmer so it would melt quicker. I have never even had a snowball fight when I was younger.” You laugh nervously, kicking a stone as you walk forward. 
“You humans are peculiar. Why would you throw ice at each other for fun?” 
“Because it is fun. Not throwing ice, if you did that, you were a bad person. There have been several stories of kids hiding stones in the middle of snowballs and throwing them at people.” You sigh, looking up at the stars. “Some people take the fun outta it.” 
Ramattra walks alongside you, humming in response. “I see.” 
“Yeah…” Another nervous laugh. “Anyway, let’s head back, it’s getting cold and my back is wet and starting to freeze.”
“Of course.” Ramattra turns a little too quickly, the ice beneath his feet causing him to slip and fall back with a thud. 
“Oh my- are you okay?” You look down at him, trying to hold back the laughter. 
The omnic doesn’t respond for a moment as he checks if any serious damage has been done, and when everything comes back clear, he nods, attempting to stand but only slipping again. 
“Ramattra, please.” You laugh, offering your hand to help the poor omnic up. 
“I am not doing it on purpose.” He states, taking your hand and instead of getting up, he pulls you down to the ground with him. 
“Hey-!” You lay next to him, chest heaving as you laugh alongside him. 
Both of you stare up at the stars, laying on the icy asphalt. 
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You say, finally calm. 
“Yes. Yes it is.” His hand never left yours, fingers interlocked with yours. 
“I wish we could stay here forever.” You sigh. “But I really am getting cold.” 
Ramattra chuckles as he finally and successfully stands. He pulls you up, holding onto you gently before picking you up and carrying you back to the apartment. 
When the pair of you reached the apartment, Ramattra still carrying you through the door, he was quick to carry you to the bathroom and strip you of your wet clothes and draw you a hot bath. Even though you had spent the last year with him, it still felt embarrassing to be naked in front of him, yet he had seen your body countless times over. 
It struck 12:30am by the time the two of you were cuddled up on the sofa by the fire. Ramattra had made you some hot cocoa, just the way you had always liked it. His arm was draped over your shoulders, hand gently rubbing your arm as his head rested atop yours. 
His inner workings were a soothing rhythm to you as the both of you stayed silent, savouring the moment you two were sharing. With the fire crackling and the Christmas tree lights flickering, the room was warm and it felt like home. 
Ramattra felt safe. He felt like he belonged, and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t mind spending each Christmas like this if it meant he got to spend it with you.
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keresnotceres · 8 months
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MW2 CHARACTERS: School AU
[sfw] cw(s): none !!! As a girlie who has been reading fanfiction for god knows how long, it was inevitable that I came through with a High/Secondary School AU. As a reminder, I don’t know shit abt the British school system so we’re going with my experiences with the American public school system. enjoy dovies <3
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Ghost is that one upperclassman in every single one of your co-grade classes that just sits there. He doesn’t say a damn word and you don’t even see him writing down any notes, but somehow, he has the best grades in the whole fucking school. Principal’s honor roll, scholarship recognization galore.
It takes so long for you to work up the courage to talk to him and ask him for help on an assignment and when he admits he doesn’t know they had an assignment to do, you’re a bit dumbfounded. You realize that he quite literally just sits there and vibes the entire time. He proceeds to turn back to the window and stare out of it.
Eventually he warms up to you, though. It takes, like, three months of pestering him until he actively begins conversations with you and you find yourself with a very stoic cheat sheet. He has kept all of his tests and is perfectly fine with just giving you them bc what are morals???
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Gaz is the local “i know him but we aren’t friends” kid. Literally everybody knows his name, he’s on the school’s soccer (football, i guess) team and is relatively well known as a nice person, but he only has a few close friends. His grades are also insanely high, you don’t understand how he manages to ace every test while also spending most of his time practicing sports.
He’s the type of person to forget a pencil, however, and usually ends up leaning over to whoever is next to him and asking for one. He usually gives it back, unless it’s someone he doesn’t particularly like. When he tries to give it back to you and you just tell him to keep it, he likes you automatically.
He’s always inviting you to watch his games after the two of you get closer. He also sits with you during shared study halls or lunches regardless of if you or he has other friends in the lunch. Gaz is also the type of person to lean over and ask if you wanna share the copy of an assignment document or swap essays to proofread.
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Soap is absolutely the really loud jock kid that people either really like or really hate, and there’s just no in-between (i’m so sorry Foap 😭). Despite this, he’s actually one of those really nice sport boys that will start punching if someone disrespects his friends. He’s also in an abundance of art classes.
In class you can see him scribbling down notes until he gets bored and starts just doodling in his notebook, tuning out the lecture. However, if your science teacher decides today is not a teaching day and puts on something like Bill Nye or The Magic School Bus, he is enraptured. Is also the person to quietly chant “Bill! Bill! Bill! Bill!” during the theme song. Used to hate the Amoeba Sisters until he binged their videos before his Biology final lol.
You start being friends with him on complete accident after you help him with a question on a pop quiz. He gave you puppy eyes! How could you refuse! He proceeds to talk to you the next day like the two of you are best friends and you are now stuck with him until graduation. But hey! You basically have a bodyguard now.
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Price is an Honors English and AP Literature teacher through and through. He originally wanted to be a history teacher, but the English position was open and he took it with little complaint. He’s absolutely the teacher you can launch into tangents for the entire class and will take half a point off of your essays for misusing a comma.
If you're his favorite student, he tends to grade your FRQs and other assignments much harsher than he would others, but it ends with you having well rounded essay skills afterwards and acing your assignments later in the year. Will let you hang out in his room during your study halls and is always open to helping you on assignments if you ask.
Hangs thank you notes from students on his walls, has a wild collection of them and shows them off any time another teacher asks him about them. Has cried reading some from students he liked having in his classes.
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Laswell is a Geometry, Pre-Calculus, and Calculus professor. Idc what u think she is absolutely a math teacher and would absolutely have a doctorate. People who don't like math probably go into her class also not liking her, but come out at the end of the year wanting to be in her class next year.
If you're one of her favorite students, she absolutely gives you little notes on your graded tests like 'good job :)' and always says she's proud of you if your grades improve during the year. She also lets you and your friends eat lunch in her room because she understands why you'd rather be in a math room than the cafeteria.
Has never been seen without a coffee during the first four periods of the day and a random beverage during the last three. She always has a drink with her and it's become a bit of a game between a few of her students. Sometimes she'll give someone who asks a drink as well. A student she particularly liked tried to pay her to bring them coffee; she gave them their money back and brought them a coffee.
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Nikolai is a history teacher that also coaches the school golf team. And yes, golf team; that man radiates golf energy and I cannot be told otherwise. He doesn't understand the kids' obsession with things like Kahoot, but makes them because it keeps kids engaged with the class and mostly keeps grades up.
Being one of Nikolai's favorite students is hard if you don't golf, but if you are a favorite, he tends to give you extensions of assignments if you're struggling to find time/motivation. Also will give you candy under the table if you win a Kahoot, or if you visit him during a study hall he will also give you candy. He gives out Smarties (the American version) because he thinks the name is funny.
If you show interest in learning Russian and ask him how to roll your Rs or how to pronounce the Cyrillic letters, he will automatically like you more than the others. As long as he feels like you're earnestly learning it out of interest and not just to make him like you, that is. If you already know Russian he'll like you anyway. Sometimes it's nice to speak his native tongue.
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winniethewife · 5 months
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It's undeniably real (Layla El-Faouly x The Moonknight system x Reader)
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Chapter 4: It's true, I was made for you
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Words: 1234 (wow)
Layla and I were on a mission. Well more Layla was on a mission and I was stuck coming with her. She was insistent that I needed new clothes, because I had worn out a lot of my current wardrobe. We had left the apartment with me begging Marc to send Jake to save me, and he laughed, saying something about it being “For my own good” or something. And now I was in being dragged through a shopping mall being dragged into clothing stores I knew I couldn’t afford, but Layla and Marc had insisted. I was trying on some clothes that Layla wanted me to try.
“Hey Hun? I think I’m having… zipper problems in here” I call out as I try to reach over my shoulder to zip the dress up but I couldn’t reach. I hear the rustle of the dressing room curtain, and the familiar scent of Egyptian Musk enters my space as she takes the zipper and slowly pulls it up looking at me in the mirror with a smile.
“There. How’s that? Good fit?” Layla asks softly before resting her face in the crook of my neck leaving a gentle kiss. “You look stunning…” She says softly running her hands down my sides.
“Yeah, I like it…” I reply holding her hands at my hips. A smile on my lips as I think about when we went on our “trial date”
~
It felt a little silly going on a date with Layla seeing as we had known each other since we we’re little kids. Spent our school days together, both of our families were always on the move. Her father and my mother were archeologists, working on the same digs while the two of us were constantly exploring the ruins. It wasn’t until my father decided I needed to go to boarding school for the rest of my education that I was separated from my best friend and first love, Layla El-Faouly. We were constantly writing, and eventually calls and texts though our young adulthood, never truly loosing contact. She was there for me when my first serious relationship fell apart, one of them cheated on us and the other didn’t want to continue the relationship after it happened. I felt alone. I had called Layla and at the time her relationship with Marc had gone sour, unsigned divorce papers showing up at her door, Layla then disappeared for a short time, but by the next time we talked she and Marc were working things out. Later I would find out things were Steven and Jake along with their marriage.
But now I was walking with her hand in mine in the park as she carries a picnic basket, it feels like we haven’t been apart a single day. I looked over at her as she gave me a smile.
“Like when we were kids right? Picnic lunches with our parents?” She says with a loving look in her eyes
“Are you going to seduce me with nostalgia?” I laugh, she laughs with me.
“Maybe…Is it working?” She smiles at me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, the way her curls bounced as she moves, the twinkle in her eye like there was always adventure in front of her, even in the most domestic parts of life. I squeezed her hand tight as I smile at her. She’s always been beautiful. She’s always been the girl of my dreams.
When we get to the spot she was looking for I helped her spread out a Blanket. We sat down together and she started to pull out snacks and wine from the basket, she hands me a glass. After a few sips and some light conversation she turns to me with that jaw dropping smile on her face.
“So…Marc told me you were already going to say yes when you went on his date, are you still on that track?” She asks with a playful tone “Or did Steven’s immense knowledge of everything scare you off?” I laugh
“No, I’m saying yes, I will be your third. I’m actually really excited to start this. I mean, I can’t help but find all of you attractive for lots of reasons.” I take another sip of my wine.
“Oh yeah? I’m curious now…What are your reasons?” She asks with a smile
“Of course, we can’t just have a nice time, you gotta pick my brain.” I sigh giving her a playful look. “Alright…Well Jake, he was a gentleman the whole time, very well dressed, lots of complements, and He took me to do one of my favorite things, not a lot of guys take you dancing on the first date. Marc, I mean you’re the one who married him do I really have to go over it all? Handsome, the dry and dark sense of humor, the way he doesn’t go on about things and is always listening. He’s really just a good guy you know? Steven, well He’s just adorable, he’s like a brand new puppy everything in the whole world is amazing to him, I felt like I could do no wrong with him, he was so attentive and he’s really smart but not at all in your face about it, and he’s funny, so funny.”
I looked at Layla and I felt speechless for a moment the way she was looking at me. That look in her eyes I knew so well. “And then…there’s you. My best friend since we were so little, the first woman I fell in love with, the person who was always by my side, everyday no matter what continent we were on, different time zones, different languages…you’ve been there for me. Always.” I look at her with love and adoration and she does something I don’t expect. She leans in and she kisses me. Her soft lips touch mine and I feel like I’m seeing in color for the first time. Everything about that moment was everything I waited a life time for.
~
We walk back into the apartment with several shopping bags of clothes and Chinese take out for dinner. When we walk in we find Jake is fronting, not a usual occurrence. He looks concerned, he’s half way through getting ready to leave when we come in.
“Jake…What’s going on?” I ask as I set the bags down walking over to him
“Hermosa…It’s not good. There’s trouble.” He takes my hands in his gloved ones. Layla hangs back watching the interaction with worry. “I’ll be gone a few days…I can’t say more the less you know the better.” He takes my chin in his hand and looks into my eyes. “Volveré pronto mi amor...lo prometo.” He whispers before kissing me gently. This wasn’t a normal good bye kiss, this was an ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen and I need to feel you one last time’ kiss. In that second I was terrified.
“Te amo Jake…” I said as he pulls away from the kiss. He hums and presses his forehead to mine, taking just a moment, before he pulls away and heads for the door. Before he leaves he takes Layla’s hand for a second and they share a knowing look. After which he leaves. Layla walks over to me and holds me close, touching her nose to mine as we both silently worry.
~
Translations:
Volveré pronto mi amor...lo prometo.: I will be back soon my love...I promise.
Masterlist
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Taglist: @redeyerhaenyra @summonthesoups
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Miami Vice S1E18: Made for Each Other
Larry's house burns down, and Izzy and Noogie are sent undercover.
Made for Each Other suffers immensely from coming right after The Maze, which is a true "the system is broken" classic Vice episode. Made for Each Other is a comedy breather, and actually kind of great in its own right, but where it sits in the progression of the series feels more like a deflation than a break.
Made for Each Other is also almost comically homoerotic-- it's the episode that convinced me that Sonny is supposed to be a textually closeted bisexual man on my first watch through of the series, but on a repeat watch it's somehow even more obvious. Why are there all those half-naked bears on a boat? Why is the entire plot basically "Stan and Larry sort of have a breakup because of Stan's new girlfriend and then get back together at the end?" Why does Izzy keep saying things like nubile and anal? Why does the camera linger so very long on his and Noogie's cigarillos touching? What's up with the repetition of 'shafted'? Why are all the guests at Noogie's wedding like, extras from a Boy George video?
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Why does this happen?
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(plz draw your OT3 like this)
Anyway I actually really like Made For Each Other upon rewatch, it really just should have been placed elsewhere in the season. It's a fun, silly episode, and a little levity is necessary in a series that is often so very bleak.
The episode opens with Sonny and Rico trying to catch a counterfeiter, and Rico is bitchy and condescending to Sonny in a way that I think is supposed to be "ha ha, my criminal persona is a dick," but actually just comes off as "ha ha, I am a dick." It seems like he's trying to impress the counterfeiter by throwing Sonny under the bus. This occasional cruelty towards someone he does genuinely like is a fascinating part of Rico's characterization, and part of what elevates his character writing to "actual nuanced person" and not "nice Black sidekick who always supports the main white guy." Rico absolutely sees himself as more educated and worldly than Sonny, and occasionally he lets that slip. He has a very complicated relationship to both class and geography-- he's a New Yorker (...from the Bronx), he wears a perfectly tailored suit everyday (...and is a poorly paid cop), he idolizes Sonny for his football career but also thinks he's a bit of a yokel. As someone whose own class status is a bit shaky, Rico tends to get a little mean when it seems like he might be 'found out.'
Zito almost gets blown up in the ensuing warehouse fire, and Switek flips out. A short while later, a surprisingly chill Zito says he believes things are "either in whack or out of whack," shortly after while they discover that his entire house is on fire.
Please note the company that moves Zito's stuff to Switek's house:
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I am dying
Trudy and Gina, in their only real appearance in the episode, very sweetly present Zito with a new fish as an office gift. Sonny is a dick about it.
Swi and Zito go to investigate BONZO BARRY who is a shady stereo and computer system dealer who has a FUCKING SEAL in his store
Michael Talbott is wildly overacting this entire episode, like to the point that I wonder if they had to turn down his mic
Noogie is marrying a stripper(?) named Ample Annie. They argue about going to Disneyland while she's practicing her routine. She does a striptease down the aisle. She is perhaps the only person bonkers enough to keep up with Noogie.
Stan's girlfriend, Darlene (who was Larry's girlfriend a short period of time ago), is extremely unhappy with Larry staying at their house, and spends the entire episode either complaining or being upset that the conditions are not right to bone; frankly, Stan does not seem to like her and she does not seem to like Stan. The most likely reasoning behind this is "bad 80's hurr hurr the ol' ball and chain" comedy, but considering the homoeroticism of the episode I'd like to think it could be a comment on compulsory heterosexuality
Izzy and Noogie show up at Stan's and, in one ridiculous whirlwind, declare the current case "theirs," ask who is the "Captain Kirk of this Enterprise," and start eating Stan's breakfast
In one scene Tubbs asks Zito and Swi if they want backup and they both very loudly yell NO like he's the reason everything has been on fire in this episode
Switek asks Zito at one point, "do you ever think about the future, Larry?" and Zito answers No.
This is funny the first time you watch the episode!
This is not funny anymore after Season 3.
The bad guy (whose crime seems to be like. Selling stolen stereos or something equally stupid) has a boat full of half-naked men with guns. This is not remarked upon.
Then we get to the Night Talk scene. I've talked at length about this scene before, but basically: Zito has been kicked out of Switek's and is sleeping at the station; Sonny comes in, romantic music plays, Zito basically describes Switek as the perfect man, and Sonny tries to get Zito to come back to his place (and fails.) It's very gay. I like to think that Sonny has a burgeoning crush on Rico at this point but is certain Rico is straight (and also. Y'know. Was a bit of an asshole at the beginning of the episode.) and takes desperate, tragic shot on Zito because of that. Zito politely declines because his heart is already spoken for.
Meanwhile, Stan is unable to perform sexually because he's thinking about Larry.
I'm sure that means nothing.
The outfits at Noogie's wedding are just. They are. Truly they are something.
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The priest is a leather daddy. Many people appear to be in space blankets, including Noogie. Annie has a tearaway wedding dress. The pianist has the world's most incredible zebra shirt. There are headbands and weird hats abound.
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By contrast, all the members of Vice look like they're supposed to be at a PTA meeting. (Also Sonny looks like he wishes he could ask where the punch is but doesn't want to bother Gina and Trudy, who are clearly each others' plus-ones.)
And the episode ends with Switek and Zito, side by side, at a wedding.
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