#i was on call with my boyf when i got this he can confirm how much i got a kick out of this

[l0vegl0wsinthedark]

Holding Hands

Just dipping my toe into the "faking a relationship for a holiday party" trope. (And blame @shealwaysreads for this cause she was like do it and so I did it.)

This is unbeta’d. Please be gentle with me.

*

Draco waited. The silence that had fallen a couple of minutes ago was still loud. The fire in the hearth kept spitting threateningly instead of just crackling quietly and sweetly like it should. The fairy lights around the tree twinkled gently, slowly, throwing golden patterns over Potter's skin, his dark hair.

They were sat across from each other in front of the hearth, Draco in his armchair upholstered in silver-grey velvet, and Potter in the plushy green armchair he had conjured when he'd arrived. Their drinks were sitting on the spindly-legged table between them.

Potter looked very politely confused, a tiny smile on his face, a thin line between his brows. He was leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees, his long, strong fingers clasped together neatly, his full attention focused on Draco. He looked...like he was waiting for Draco to finish speaking, to...explain.

Draco licked his lips and tilted his head a bit. "Erm...?"

Potter's smile widened a bit. "Yes?" he said eagerly. Draco blinked and shook his head imperceptibly. Potter's confusion deepened. "I'm...waiting for you to...you know--" he waved his hand vaguely and then grinned, "--laugh," he finally said, a tad lamely.

Draco frowned. "What's funny?"

Potter's mouth fell open on a stupid gape. "I mean... I thought..." He pushed his glasses up his nose and then scratched the back of his neck. "So, what was it you were saying? What are you asking me?"

"Did you not hear me, or are you feigning stupidity?" Draco asked coldly.

Potter frowned, bristling a bit. "I heard you, Draco, and I feel like you're taking the mickey."

"I'm doing no such thing. I explained my predicament and asked you a simple yes or no question. Would you be so kind as to grace me with an answer?"

Potter shook his head irritably. "Stop talking like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like... Like a fucking ponce. That's how you used to speak to me." Draco just looked at him. "Can you just be normal, please?" Potter snapped.

Draco spread his hands out. "I am being normal."

"Uh huh." Potter was still frowning. "So, you're saying--" He broke off and shifted in his seat, straightening up. "So, you're saying..." Trailing off, he just sat there looking like a fucking idiot. "What are you saying?" he finally asked.

Draco picked up his brandy and took a sip before leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs, lifting his chin high. "Fine. I will ask you again. Since you're a bloody troglodyte, apparently." He had to gather the will and courage all over again to repeat himself. "Will you accompany me to my parents' Christmas party as my boyf- partner? Meaning, they'll think you're my partner. We’ll just have to pretend."

"You...said something before that earlier."

"Oh. Yes. Well, when my mother asked me if you and I are lovers, after she read that article about us in the Prophet, I simply said yes." He'd managed to say it without displaying any emotion the first time. Now, however, Draco could feel heat rising up his neck and face.

Potter was looking particularly stupid as he stared with his mouth open. "Your parents think we're dating?" Draco nodded. "And they want to...meet me?"

Draco brushed imaginary lint off his trousers. "If you consent."

Potter leaned back, slumping in his chair, knees spreading, his arms hanging over the sides of the chair. He blew out a long breath with a whooshing sound, his lips very pink as they formed an 'o'. Then, rather abruptly, he chuckled, rubbing his face and making his glasses jump onto his forehead.

"Which bit did you find amusing?" asked Draco with feigned politeness.

"The whole thing."

"Oh?"

"Draco," Potter said on a laugh, "can you stop talking like that, please? It's fucking hilarious right now. Especially because that's not how one talks to their 'lover'."

Draco knew he was probably purple in the face by now. It was embarrassing. He ought to have told Potter right after he'd confirmed the rumours to his parents. They'd have laughed about it, and then asking him to go to this fucking party now wouldn't be such a fucking task.

Because they're friends. Close friends even. And Potter was probably going to say yes. He never denied Draco anything. He was always indulging Draco; taking care of Draco. Siding with Draco when that fucking Weasel ragged him. Always promoting Draco's label in his interviews, endorsing his little boutique. Trusting Draco enough let him dress him for important events even though Draco knew Potter had the most basic, unadventurous sense of fashion.

Draco wanted to roll his eyes. Potter was the softest, most indulgent person and he was probably going to say yes. But that didn't make any of this any easier. Because obviously Potter thought it was funny that the two of them might be lovers. He found this whole thing really amusing.

There was a thin strain of hurt somewhere in Draco's chest but he ignored it.

"So how long before you say yes like we both know you're going to?" Draco drawled.

Potter grinned widely. "What am I going to be wearing?"

*

The Manor was an absolute wonder to behold. Draco was sure even Hogwarts was never this heavily decorated for the holidays. Fairy lights, glittering icicles, ice sculptures, wreaths, ostentatiously decorated Christmas trees, more lights - the whole house, inside and out, was dripping in red, green, gold and white.

Potter stared around in silence, his expression very serious. He was dutifully holding Draco's hand (just like a lover might) and was taking in the sight of the gigantic ballroom they were in, guests milling about sipping golden champagne from crystal flutes, house-elves trotting around between people's knees holding up trays of hors d'oeuvres; the four gigantic, glittering Christmas trees in each corner of the room, the ice sculpture of a delicately carved fairy, her wings spread, in the centre of the room, sparkling fairy dust falling from her hand and disappearing mid-air.

To Draco this was just about normal, if a tad bit overdone (for the enjoyment of the guest of honour he'd brought along with him, he supposed), but he still blushed in embarrassment when he looked around with Potter's eyes; he was probably convinced now that his parents were pretentious or something. Feeling a bit timid, he glanced sideways at Potter.

He was looking very, very handsome tonight. He had on robes of deep, royal violet - dark enough to nearly pass off as black - with intricate gold embroidery that Draco had spent hours working on himself. He'd let Draco clip a matching cape, embroidered and lined along the hem with fur, onto his shoulders with matching brooches that glittered under the light of what had to be at least a thousand candles hovering above them. He'd made a decent attempt at taming his hair - not a successful attempt, but Draco gave him credit for trying anyway. He'd switched his usual clunky glasses out for the vision correcting spells that Draco knew he hated but it meant his eyes were shining so bright and green that it made Draco's stomach clench a bit with something he’d always staunchly ignored.

Then, his parents spotted them. Lucius was in black as usual - the material expensive, but still black - and Narcissa looked decades younger than she was in robes of pale lavender and silver. Draco smiled as she beamed at them, gliding over alongside her husband.

"Darling." She feathered her lips over Draco's cheek. "Fashionably late, I see. And fashionably dressed," she added, turning to Potter and holding out her hand, her smile small but her eyes warm.

Potter bent over her hand and brushed his lips over the back of her hand briefly - just like Draco had instructed him to - before straightening up and smiling politely. "Thank you for inviting me to your wonderful party, Mrs. Malfoy."

"You are very welcome - literally. And please call me Narcissa."

Lucius had watched and listened in silence, his hands clasped behind his back, his serious gaze fixed on Potter. When Narcissa stepped back, he slowly extended a hand to Potter.

Draco held his breath. They hadn't discussed this. He had no idea how Potter was about to behave with his father but he knew he wouldn't blame him for anything he said or did. Potter was a much better man than his father. This was fact.

But Potter simply shook hands with Lucius and nodded. Draco felt his shoulders relax.

They mingled. Draco had to repeatedly 'introduce' Potter to people as though they all didn't already know who he was, who his fucking parents were. It was laughable. But this was a stupid fucking formal Pureblood soirée and Draco still had his manners. What surprised him was how well-mannered Potter was being.

Potter was also being very loyal to his role as Draco's partner.

"He was such a little terror as a child, bless his heart," said some old crone, patting Draco's cheek with one wrinkled hand. Draco wanted to hiss at her like a cat.

"Aren't we all, at that age?" Potter said calmly, smiling.

"Oh, you're very dedicated to him, I see" she simpered. "Such a pleasure to see. You hardly ever find this in you youngsters these days."

"He doesn't give me much reason not to be dedicated to him."

Potter was still holding his hand.

"Draco doesn't tell us anything about how the two of you put your rather unhappy history aside in order to accept your...softer feelings for each other." Narcissa looked like she'd been bursting to ask Potter this all evening; she'd finally gotten a chance now that she was done making the obligatory rounds amongst her guests.

Potter looked at him, and Draco, his face hot, returned his gaze, trying to apologise wordlessly. But Potter just grinned.

"Well, I don't know about him but," Potter smiled down at Narcissa, looking handsome and charming and, well, fuck, "it was just a natural, automatic thing for me, really. The more I got to know the real Draco Malfoy the deeper I fell in love with him."

Draco felt his eyes widen a bit. He wanted to look at Potter to figure him out, to try and discern just how much he was bullshitting. He wanted to read Potter because Potter was supremely easy to read. The man wore his heart on his sleeve. Draco could always tell, just from one glance, the kind of mood Potter was in.

Trying to appear casual, like Potter hadn't said anything that made Draco's breath catch, Draco looked sideways at him. Potter was smiling, his eyes honest and soft and crinkled at the corners. He was nodding along to something Narcissa was saying.

And he was still holding Draco's hand.

"Very well done," Draco muttered, once his mother had wandered away into the crowd.

Potter smiled and squeezed his hand. "You said you'd give me a tour of the gardens," he said. Draco nodded and led him out.

They strolled in a leisurely manner. It was snowing but there were charms in place which meant that the snow never actually touched them, instead disappearing about a foot over their heads. The gardens were decorated too, lights twinkling everywhere, lighting up the paths.

"This must've been a great place to grow up," Potter eventually said.

They turned the corner and in the distance was the turret-shaped gazebo, hung with white-gold lights. Narcissa, when the weather permitted, loved to paint in the gazebo. Draco smiled.

"It was." Then, guiltily, "I mean... I don't mean to brag or any--"

Potter laughed. It was a low, deep, familiar sound that made Draco break out in gooseflesh.

"Draco," he said gently. "You don't have to feel guilty every time you talk to me about your childhood."

Draco lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "'m not guilty," he mumbled.

"No? You're still that insufferable, obnoxious little shit you were in school?"

Draco actually felt his face fall. He turned to Potter, unbothered about sounding vulnerable. "That's what you thought of me?"

Potter laughed. "Can you blame me? Do you remember you back at school?"

Draco slumped a little. "I suppose." They were nearly at the gazebo now. Together, they turned onto the path that led to the steps leading into it. Then, "That's...not what you think of me now, is it?"

"Draco," Potter's voice was gentle, yet teasing, "Everyone thinks you're a prat. You have to know this."

"Yes, but you?" They climbed the two steps and walked into the gazebo.

"I think you're a prat too." They were still holding hands. "But you're my prat."

Draco turned to look at him but Potter, with a sharp yank, was pulling Draco to himself. With a soft 'oof', Draco hit Potter's chest. Now they were holding both hands.

He quickly pulled himself together although Potter could probably feel his heart galloping in his chest. "Am I, now?"

"Isn't that what we've just spent the last hour and a half proving to people?"

"Well," Draco said slowly, "I was under the impression that it was an act."

"Well," Potter said quietly. "I'd rather it...be real."

They were standing pressed together in the centre of the gazebo, fairy lights surrounding them, Potter's green, green eyes reflecting them as he stared intensely at Draco. He looked like he was challenging Draco, like he was daring Draco to laugh in his face and carelessly brush aside what he'd said. Because that's what Draco Malfoy would do when Harry Potter declared something like that, right? He'd stomp on Harry Potter's proffered heart and revel in it.

Draco couldn't even imagine doing something like that. Especially not when Potter was holding his hands and smelt so good and looked at him like he was promising him so, so many things.

"You were very convincing tonight," said Draco.

"It was really easy," said Potter.

"You held my hand throughout."

"I wasn't about to give up the chance I had."

"Thank you for coming with me tonight."

"I wasn't about to give up the chance I had."

"Potter?"

"Shouldn't you be calling me Harry if we're together?"

"Would you like that?"

"I would love that, Draco."

"You've called me Draco for years now."

"I have."

Draco looked down at the lines of gold thread on Harry's chest, gleaming against the violet silk. "I think I'd like to call you Harry," he admitted.

When his gaze lifted back to Harry's, he was smiling at Draco. Then he looked up above them.

"Mistletoe," Harry said simply.

Draco's ears were ringing as though he'd been struck.

"Oh," he said, his voice quavering.

Harry just smiled again, and slowly let his head drop forward so that their foreheads touched. Then he brought his mouth up to Draco's brow and kissed it.

"Oh," repeated Draco.

They were just gazing at one another now.

Damn it, thought Draco as he broke first and kissed Harry full on the mouth.

They were still holding hands.

*

#drarry #faking a relationship #for a fucking christmas party #classic trope #that i tried to do justice to #idk *side eyes* #my writing #i feel like this has no shape #or plot #so yes this is basically just like anything else i've ever written #happy holidays!

[officerrxyes-inactive]

Eager, Young, and Starry-Eyed

(read on ao3)

Summary: When Carlos is asked to participate in the annual football game for his police precinct, TK is more than willing to come cheer him on. The afternoon does not go quite as they expect it though... (sorry I suck at summaries) 

Note: Beta-read by my fave person @terramous 

Title from “Late July” by Shakey Graves... it really has nothing to do with the story itself but I’m so so obsessed with this song and I just needed to use it as a title so.

TK was never that interested in sports. His dad had tried to get him into playing or at least watching any sports game with him when he was younger but it just never stuck.

But when Carlos told him about the annual football game that he was participating in for his police precinct, he couldn’t help but share in his excitement. Watching his attractive boyfriend run around on a field in a tight shirt, all hot and sweaty? He didn’t even have to think twice before agreeing to come cheer him on. 

Which is how he found himself sitting on the bleachers under the hot Austin sun in a local park.

He tries his best to follow the action on the field. Carlos had mentioned the game was just a friendly competition and from what he could tell, he was right. The players don’t seem to be taking the game too seriously. Instead of the aggressiveness among players TK was used to seeing when he would watch games with his dad, the players have been laughing and teasing each other throughout today’s game.

As for his boyfriend, TK did not have to understand the game to realize Carlos was playing incredibly well. In just the first half, he had worked up quite the sweat. He knew his boyfriend had played football in high school, having found his letterman jacket hidden in the back of his closet. However, when TK confronted him about it, Carlos failed to mention how good he was at the game. 

And now, seeing the little beads of sweat on Carlos’ forehead glisten in the sun was enough to make TK’s mouth dry. He could not wait to grab the other man by his wet curls and kiss him as soon as the game was over.

Every once in a while, Carlos glances over to him and gives him a smile that makes TK’s heart flutter. Who knew football was so much more fun to watch when the man you love was playing?

He was so lost in thought of how hot his boyfriend looked that it took him a few beats to realize that said man was no longer running across the field but was now curled up on the ground, surrounded by his teammates. 

Immediately, TK stands up, his heart pounding in his ears. What happened? Why wasn’t Carlos getting up?

He tries to suppress emotions and his racing thoughts but when another thirty seconds pass without Carlos making any move to get up, he can’t stop himself from making his way down the bleachers, toward the field. He pauses for a second at the sideline, wondering if it is okay for him to be on the field. But he quickly pushes that thought aside and makes his way over to Carlos. This is his boyfriend lying on the ground, clearly hurt. If anything, TK can at least try to push aside his emotions and put his training as a first responder to good use. 

As he gets closer to Carlos, he recognizes a few of the faces surrounding him, having seen them when he meets his boyfriend at the station or on calls. They must recognize him too because as soon as he gets close enough the crowd starts to part, allowing him to reach Carlos. Either that, or the worried look on his face is enough for them not to question who he is.

“Hey,” he says, kneeling down next to Carlos, “I didn’t see what happened. Are you okay?”

When Carlos looks up at him with a tight expression and jaw clenched so hard that the vein in his neck stands out, he gets his answer. Carlos is clearly not okay.

“Got tackled and my knee gave out,” Carlos winces and manages to grunt out.

TK’s heart breaks seeing the man he loves in such clear agony. He’s been with Carlos long enough to know the man has a high tolerance for pain and will often try to hide it, insisting that he is fine. The fact that he isn’t even bothering to conceal his emotions at this moment sets off quite a few alarms in TK’s head.

“Do you think you can stand so we can get you off the field?”

Carlos gives a small, unsure nod, and TK extends his hand out, trying to take on as much as the other man’s weight as he can. He slings the injured man’s arm over his shoulder and one of his teammates does the same on the other side, allowing Carlos to be practically carried off the field.

Once they hobble their way over to the sidelines, TK eases Carlos down onto the bench. He then takes a seat next to him and gently brings the other man’s right leg up to elevate it so he can take a closer look at it. He lightly touches it only to pull away when he hears Carlos’ sharp intake of breath. With how tender his knee is, TK can’t help but worry. It’s not looking good.

“Do you guys have any ice?” TK asks, directing his attention to the teammate who had assisted him in getting Carlos off the field. 

The other guy nods and hurries off before returning with a fresh bag of ice that TK gingerly places on Carlos’ knee.

“How’s your pain? One to ten?”

“Eleven. I think it’s my ACL,” Carlos grits out.

TK can feel his heart breaking all over again. ACL tears are never a good thing. If Carlos is right, he will likely be out of commission for a while. 

“Maybe not, it could just be a bad sprain.” TK suggests, trying to hope for the best.

“No, it is. I’ve done this before. With my other knee.”

“What? Carlos!”

“It’s what ended my football career in high school.”

Did Carlos really just say a knee injury is the reason why he stopped playing football? “Then can you please explain why you thought it would be a good idea to participate in the game today?”

“I told you it was just a friendly competition. I didn’t think it would be too rough, and I was told that the odds of my re-tearing my ACL was low.”

“Well were you ever informed that the probability of tearing the ACL in your other knee was higher? Around nine to twelve percent actually.” TK knows this is not the best time to throw statistics in Carlos’ face but his boyfriend needs to understand that what he did was reckless and preventable.

Carlos just looks at TK, pain clearly laced in his eyes as he bites down on his lip.

TK takes a breath. As much as he worries about his boyfriend and knows this could have been avoided, it happened nonetheless. And now they have to deal with it. “We need to get you checked out at the hospital. Do you think you can get over to the car or do you want me to call for an ambulance?”

He shakes his head. “It was embarrassing enough to get hurt in front of my co-workers, I don’t need to run the risk of Michelle finding out yet. She’s never going to let me live this down…” He pauses for a second before continuing, “I think I can make it to the car and you can drive.”

“Well I kind of figured I would be the one driving,” TK chuckles but stops when the joke falls flat.

TK loops his arm around Carlos, this time taking on the other man’s weight alone, and they make their way towards the parking lot.

---

Lucky for them, the emergency room was near empty and Carlos was able to be taken back right away. After an initial examination by the doctor which proved just how tender and swollen his knee was, he had been sent back for an MRI.

Now he was back in the room, waiting with TK anticipating the results. TK couldn’t help but notice how miserable his boyfriend looked sitting on the hospital bed, icing and elevating his right knee. He had traded in his sweaty t-shirt and shorts for an uncomfortable light blue hospital gown. The scowl on his face confirmed that Carlos would prefer to be anywhere else but here.

He exhales at his boyfriend's lethargic state. 

This gets Carlos’ attention, who turns and meets his eye. “What?”

“I know this sucks but you don’t have to look so sad.” TK tries to hide the small smile forming on his face. He can’t help it at the sight of the adorable pout of Carlos’ lips.

“I’m glad my pain is amusing you,” Carlos says as he looks away from the other man.

TK just stares at his boyfriend. “Come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

Before Carlos can respond, their soft banter is interrupted by Carlos’ doctor knocking on the sliding glass door.

“I have the results for your scan,” he starts off. “I’m afraid our initial prognosis was right. There is a tear in the ACL of your right knee.”

TK doesn’t fail to notice the look of disappointment that washes over Carlos’ face upon hearing the news. He leans over and grabs his hand before giving a small nod to the doctor to continue.

“Now, taking in your occupation as an active police officer I would highly recommend surgery to repair the tear. It would require quite a bit of physical rehabilitation post-surgery, however it would guarantee you can get back out in the field in top shape. I can’t say the same for going with the non-surgical option, but that is still on the table if you would rather take that route.”

“I’ll do the surgery,” Carlos states without hesitation.

“Are you sure you don’t want to think about it?” TK asks, slightly taken aback by Carlos’ quick answer. He knows his boyfriend is anxious to return to work but this is a big decision and should not be taken lightly.

“I need to do it, TK,” he says, giving him a reassuring look before directing his attention back to the doctor. “I want to do the procedure.”

“Okay, well in that case I have an opening for you two weeks from today that we can schedule you for. And in the meantime, we’ll get you fitted with a brace and crutches. Try to take it easy until then and continue to ice and elevate until the swelling goes down.” 

Carlos nods and looks at TK, giving him a small smile. The same smile that made his heart flutter just a few hours ago, now under different circumstances but having the same effect. His boyfriend was going to be just fine.

“Careful baby,” TK says while holding the door open for his boyfriend who was hobbling behind him on his crutches. His knee was now safely secured in a tight black brace. Though if the look on Carlos’ face was any indication, it was still causing him quite a bit of pain. 

“Yeah, I got it,” Carlos grunts as he makes his way through the door frame.

TK just sighs. He knows his boyfriend is determined to do everything on his own but he’s mistaken if he thinks TK isn’t going to mother hen him for the next few months until he is fully recovered.

He watches Carlos ease himself onto the couch, elevating his knee and letting his crutches fall to the side. 

Making his way over to the kitchen, TK grabs a fresh ice pack for his boyfriend before joining him on the couch, delicately placing the ice pack on Carlos’ knee.

“How are you doing?” TK asks, concern clear in his voice.

“My knee hurts.”

“I can’t fathom why it would. I meant mentally, how are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” Carlos says, averting his gaze away from TK.

TK pulls on his hand to get his attention. “Hey, talk to me.”

“I guess I’m bummed because this won’t be an easy recovery, and I really want to get back to work but I know that won’t happen for a while.”

“How do you feel about the surgery?”

---

“I’m a little nervous… I mean I had the same procedure when it happened but this time it’s different. I was in high school then. Now, I don’t know,” he pauses to gather his thoughts. “The stakes are a little higher I guess.”

“Well, you agreed to it very quickly,” TK adds on.

“Yeah, TK, because I know if I want to go back to work, that’s my only option,” Carlos quickly fires back.

“Listen to me,” TK says, looking at his boyfriend seriously. “You’re allowed to be more than a little nervous about it. It’s a fairly big procedure. And yes, it will take a while to recover but I’m going to be here every step of the way to take care of you. Mentally and physically.”

Carlos looks up at him softly before snuggling into TK’s side. “Have I mentioned how much I adore you?”

“Did I mention how hot you looked today, all athletic?” TK bites on his lip, the urge from earlier in the day to grab his boyfriend by the curls coming back just as strong. “Yeah some athlete I am,” Carlos says, gesturing down to his knee brace.

TK just smirks. “Well have I mentioned I find sports injuries pretty hot too?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Carlos chuckles. 

TK smiles and cups the other man’s cheek. “Yeah but you love me anyway.”

They smile at each other before leaning in, pressing their lips together for a passionate kiss. 

#911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #carlos whump??? #i'm sorry i don't know how to write anything else #i'm so proud of this though #two fics in one day?? #who am i #my fic #mycontent

[softjeon]

can i request an ansty scenario w/jjk where he broke up with taehyung and shows up late and night to get him back? + "jeongguk it's 2am, what are you doing here?", "I fucked up"

— GENRE; angst | ��� PAIRING; Taehyung x Jungkook | — DISCLAIMER; break-up, mentioning of cheating | — Wordcount; 1,9k | — written with @cassiavioletblue

He had been crying all night until sleep just took him under and made him forget about a couple of hours. Jimin had been with him for the most part; without him he’d probably would have forgotten to even drink or eat something, because Taehyung was just staring at the wall in front of him. How did they end up like this? Taehyung loved him. He loved him more than he loved his paint brushes. Or his camera. The one he gotten for him. 

Taehyung curled in on himself, sniffling his cries in the pillow. The hurt was swallowing him whole and he had no idea, how to make this stop. He needed him. How could he let him go, when he had promised to be by his side forever. It wasn’t fair and all he wanted to do was to scream. 

…

Jungkook had looked at his phone for the nth time tonight. Taehyung hadn’t called or sent him a message - of course he hadn’t. But it still felt wrong. What was even more wrong was that he had basically stalked Taehyung’s social media accounts to see how he was as he couldn’t exactly ask him but his boyf… his ex-boyfriend hadn’t posted anything. 

The thought weighted like lead on him, pulling him down and making him unable to move.

Taehyung had shut off his phone, when Jungkook had first tried to call him. He didn’t want to talk to him. He shouldn’t care anymore. That’s what his mind was telling him, but his heart was just hurting so much from the betrayal that he couldn’t think straight anymore. How was it possible for him to still feel love and so much pain at the same time. Taehyung threw a pillow at the wall in anger, before he got up. 

His eyes were bloodshot, swollen from crying so much. Jimin had left him with a few groceries that he had brought him earlier and Taehyung was thankful as he took out one of the juice boxes and sat down again. His apartment seemed so empty now. How could Jungkook do this to him, when he had been trying so much, giving him his whole heart just for the younger to crush it. 

…

Jungkook got more and more restless, the thoughts swirling quicker and quicker in his head. He knew that it was getting dangerous; he started to do stupid shit if he felt like that. Like overexerting himself in the gym or taking risks when he was out with his friends, playing too hard, caring too little about his own safety. Or sleeping with a stranger. He physically recoiled at that thought while shame flooded him. He still couldn’t explain why exactly he had done it. He hadn’t been too drunk to realize what he was doing, he hadn’t stopped loving Taehyung, he had just… given in to his desire. An impulsive, reckless, utterly stupid decision that he regretted every second of the day and even worse at night when he was alone and heartbroken.

Taehyung sighed deeply, before closing his eyes again, rubbing over his face. He was so tired. So fucking tired but he was sleepless. The nights only brought him nightmares, making him want to scream and cry. He had thought he would be the one. All of them did. Taehyung bit his lip as he tried to keep it together, searching for the blanket that was lying over the armrest of the couch and pulled it over his head. 

…

Jungkook should have learned to control himself better by now and yet the impulsivity and restless energy were still pushing him into quick decisions. Jungkook jumped up from the bed, grabbing his jacket and his key. He would get out, get his head free, breathe in some cold night air - or inhale smoke. He patted down the pockets of his leather jacket to find he had his cigarettes but forgot his lighter. Typically. He would need to ask someone to give him fire.

…

Taehyung had gotten up from the couch eventually, before shuffling back into his bedroom. It was the first thing he did; changing all the sheets, trying to get rid of his smell, his scent that was lingering everywhere in his apartment. Taehyung simply ignored the tears by now as he pushed the blanket away to get back and try and get some rest, when the doorbell rang.

He jumped, eyes wide as he stood frozen in his dark bedroom. Taehyung’s eyes flickered over to his clock. It was 2 am. No one should be here this late. With shaking hands, Taehyung peeked outside the bedroom, startling just as hard as he did the first time when it rang again. 

There was no one around at that time of the night and instead of just doing the most logical thing (which was turning around and getting his own goddamn lighter) he suddenly remembered that he had always left one of his at Taehyung’s because of his habit for forgetting them. 

And Taehyung, caring, attentive, lovely Taehyung had always made sure he had everything he needed at his place. 

The desire to see Taehyung was so strong that it burned  behind his eyes, giving him a headache. He just needed the lighter. He would.. he would go to Taehyung and just ask him. It wasn’t… strange to want his lighter back, was it? He needed it. And Taehyung… maybe he wasn’t even there. But he could try right? Maybe ask him how he was doing, making sure he was okay.

Somehow Taehyung knew it was him. It was as if his heart recognized him being close. And the little peephole in his door only confirmed his thought.

“What are you doing here?” Taehyung’s voice sounded breathless and tired as he peeked through the door that he only opened a small crack, “It’s two am.” It was the only thing he could think of, ignoring the nervous beating of his heart that was hammering against his chest. 

“I…” He broke of. Somehow he hadn’t thought this through. Tae had every right to just leave him standing there outside. His heart clenched painfully, knowing that the other was so close, right behind this door and yet he couldn’t touch him, couldn’t kiss him or hold him like he yearned for. 

The prospect of never being able to hold Tae in his arms ever again scared him so much it choked out his voice.

Taehyung could feel it as if a knife was turned in his heart, twisting and making him bleed. It was a dumb idea to even let him see him. Jimin would have told him the same, but he couldn’t help it. He still loved him. He really did. But he was hurting more than anything else.

“You - what?” Taehyung sighed, before shaking his head, opening the door just a little further to be able to lean against the frame. “What do you want Jungkook?” He didn’t want to sound so sharp, even though it was all the younger deserved and yet. It wasn’t him to speak like this. 

“I… I need…” You! was what he meant to say but he couldn’t so instead he just mumbled something like, “Do you still have my lighter?” He barely dared to look Taehyung in the eyes. The other looked so hurt, so bone-deep-exhausted that all he wanted to do was cuddle him on the couch, with a blanket and some hot cocoa while promising him that it would get better, that they would be okay. 

Except they were not.

“Y-you’re lighter?” Taehyung’s voice almost broke, eyes tearing up, but he quickly blinked, looking everywhere but Jungkook. It hurt. It hurt so much to look at him. He wanted to scream at him, tell him how much of an asshole he was. 

“Sure,” He pressed his lips tightly together, as he turned around and walked over to where Jimin had collected all of Jungkook’s things that he brought him in a box. It was another stab, when he lifted the small box, filled with all kinds of things that the younger had left in his apartment over the years.  But it was time to give it back to him. 

Jungkook chuckled when he saw the box, a little cardboard thing with everything inside he owned. Not because he actually found it funny but because he was so overwhelmed and he didn’t know what else to do. So that’s what it had come to. Three years of up and downs and a love that was supposed to be forever and it the end the only thing that remained was heartbreak, some memories and a stupid little box. “I’m sorry, I haven’t collected your stuff yet. Somehow… I didn’t… I couldn’t really… It would be better if you’d come and get it yourself. I’m not quite sure what you’d even want. You can come when I’m at work so it might be easier for you and you’ve got… more time. You still have the key?” Maybe Taehyung had thrown it away. 

Taehyung nodded, gulping hard against the lump in his throat. “T-the key is in the box,” He answered with a heavy heart. Jungkook’s expression changed and with it, the tears shot in Taehyung’s eyes as he tried to take a deep breath. He didn’t want to cry. “Don’t look at me like this.” His voice sounded shaky and rough, “I thought we’d end up differently, …moving boxes together.” A small smile played on his lips as he gave the box over to Jungkook. “I really hope you found what you’ve been missing with me.” Tears rolled down his cheeks as he let go of the box and held onto the doorframe, too scared to break. 

“I didn’t. You know I didn’t. No one could be like you. It was…” He couldn’t say ‘just sex’ because it had also broken Taehyung’s heart to pieces so ‘just’ wasn’t the word he should use. 

“It doesn’t justify anything and I don’t expect you to forgive me although…“ His voice got quiet, “…though I had hoped you might. I love you, Tae. I did back then and I still do. I was… stupid, that’s all. I wasn’t trying to replace you. I would never. Because I know I can’t. Nothing and no one could.”

Taehyung’s bottom lip was trembling as he listened to Jungkook’s apology, wiping over his cheeks, because he couldn’t stop the tears anymore. “I still love you, Jungkook. Something like that doesn’t vanish but…but I can’t do this. Not like this. Not without knowing that you won’t do this again.” Taehyung averted his gaze, “You’ve hurt me too much, too many times. You weren’t just stupid, Jungkook and you know it. Even if you weren’t trying to replace me you were looking for something I can’t give to you. Apparently my love wasn’t enough so don’t tell me no one can be like me when it’s bullshit.” He looked up with tearfilled eyes, “I need time.”

“I know you do.” Jungkook bowed his head. He didn’t even try to make promises or tell Taehyung it would never happen again because even though he wished with all of his heart that he could take back what he had done he couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t hurt Tae in another form in a few months. He seemed to have a talent for that, for hurting Tae even though he didn’t mean to. It wasn’t all rainbow and sunshine with them, they fought a lot but they loved each other just as hard and Jungkook had thought it would be enough. 

Apparently it wasn’t.

#taekook #bangtanxm #bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #taehyung #jungkook #drabbles #anon #ask

[detrimental--scientist]

Love: Loyalty, Trust, Contentement

I was supposed to write about our ganap yesterday, but I am too busy spending my whole weekend with my boyf. I was with him from friday night then sat morning up to sunday night, and it didn’t end there, humirit pa si sunget and asked me out just this morning. I can confirm, the boyf is addicted to the girlfriend hahaha. 🤫

Sunday evening was something to write about, for the first time in our lives as a couple, we decided to have a heart to heart confrontation and talk about things that happened recently between the two of us, and that included both good and bad issues. We started with what happened at Morato when we were fighting and arguing then maybe, out of anger, he opened his car’s locks and asked me if I wanted to go down, ‘cause I can do so. As a girl who knows how to fight back and has too much self love, I got out of his car and ran away. Only a few minutes after, I was busy crying down the streets and thinking where I should go, when my phone suddenly rang, it was him calling. At first, I was hesitant to answer because I was too mad, but I didn’t want him to feel disrespected and rejected, so I answered, and he asked me where I was. Won’t go deeper with the details, but he ended up looking for me and bringing me home safely, despite the fight.

I had the whole night to contemplate about things, and I just realized I was already hurting my man big time. I was always the type of girl who loves my self before anything else. After being cheated on by my ex, I learned how to fight for what I deserve, and that includes having too much self love and pride. Little did I know, I was already forgetting the real meaning of love, and that is fighting for eachother and never giving up, despite difficulties. That was when I realized that I needed to compromise for someone I love. I told Clyde that evening...

“Lately, I’ve been thinking about our fights, and how I’ve been too bad on you. I’m sorry. Please know that everything was a result of too much self love. But it was just yesterday after our fight, when I promised my self I will never give up on you even if things get worst. I will fight for you no matter what (except cheating of course).”

And tears fell down from his eyes. I wasn’t able to contain my emotions and I cried out upon seeing my boyf crying. I was hurt during our fights, but it was even more painful when I already saw him crying because he was hurt. Right at that moment, I looked at him and told my self, “This man loves me so much. I will love and take care of him till the end.”

We spent the whole evening talking about our relationship and I think, I’m having the best relationship right now. I learned a lot from Clyde. I learned how to be humble and not think of my self only. I also learned that we should know how to compromise for the convenience of eachother. Lastly, (and I think this is the most important lesson I’ve learned so far) what makes up a strong relationship is trust, loyalty, and contentment. Throughout the most difficult times I’ve spent with Clyde, he never failed to make me feel that he loves me so much. Everybody knows how strong Clyde is, but I can clearly see him lowering his pride whenever we’re fighting. And I think that’s his way of showing that he loves me genuinely.

He’s all I could ever ask for. He spoils me like a little brat, gives me everything may it be emotional support or anything handy, and he loves me the way how my mother wants me to be loved. He never gave up on me, eventhough I have already pushed him off a lot of times. He may have flaws and imperfections, but he’s the best I could have. How are we today? We’re happy and contented. I’m praying and desperately asking God to let him be the guy I’ll end up with.

#boyf #personal #love #relationship

[tomimagines]

Tattooed Heart

Characters: tom holland x reader

Concept: tom as a tattoo artist... or is he?

Notes: I really loved writing this and even started plotting of what will happen next because it became something that has a potential of becoming an official fanfic but... who knows. Tom in this imagine is still Tom but he is not an actor, his character is different but his personality is still the same (if that makes any sense?) 

Please tell me what you think as this is one imagine I’m really proud of writing, especially in only just a day.

Song: As You Are - The Weeknd

P.S.: I’ll be making a masterlist soon, so keep an eye out for that!

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

“You’re done.”

“Bullshit,” you reply.

“We’re closing already, miss,” the bartender tells you as he takes away your unfinished bottle.

“I’m not even halfway drunk yet,” you whine but pull out your wallet and hand him a tip anyway. “Thanks.”

You hop down from the stool and notice that only you and a couple of other people being dragged outside are left in the bar. You take out your phone to let your friend know you are on your way home as you make your way to the exit.

The air is cool and comforting but it does nothing to cease the pain that you wished to drown out with alcohol. You hail a taxi and get inside, announcing your address to the driver as you sit back.

Your plan to lose yourself had failed tonight and now you’re left to deal with your misery. You were never the type to hate anyone but you hate the one guy you thought you trusted the most.

Fuck him.

No, you know what? Fuck anyone who has ever cheated.

At this thought, your throat constricts and you start to feel the tears start to form behind your eyes. You blink rapidly to try to keep them from falling but fail. You wipe them off right away and start hating yourself for not being able to get yourself drunk enough to forget.

You needed at least one night, one moment, where your head and heart aren’t fully invested in the pain that you’ve suffered for the past hours. You needed a distraction, something-

And then you see it…

“Stop the car!”

The taxi skids to a stop and a flustered driver turns to you, completely shaken up. You reach into your wallet and hand him a couple of bills before you step out of the vehicle. You stand on the wet sidewalk, in front of a small building with neon signs declaring it as a tattoo shop.

You incline your head to try to get a look inside through the window but see nothing. Is it even open?

You start to have second thoughts but the taxi has already left and you really don’t want to be out in the streets alone. You walk forward and pull on the door which swings towards you easily. You step inside and soft rock music is playing from somewhere farther down. The walls are painted red, furniture and decor compliment them in black. Leather chairs sit at one end of the floor, below a huge wall plastered with nothing but pictures and designs of tattoos.

You step closer to the wall and start to admire one tattoo that looks like a dragon being born from a rose. The colors, the details from the veins of the flower’s petals to the scales of the dragon, have you wondering if you didn’t accidentally step into a museum.

“What do you have in mind?”

“What the fu-!” You jump as your hand flies to your chest to somehow calm your now frantic heart. You turn slowly and a guy is leaning on the clear, glass counter that sits in the middle of the room; separating the waiting area to the rest of the shop.

The guy seems to be in his twenties, although his face has a certain boyish look to it. He’s definitely attractive, you have no doubt about that. He’s wearing a leather jacket with a black v-neck underneath. Usually, you would run away from someone so good looking but the bit of alcohol you drank gives you little confidence enough to stay.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckles and it’s then that you notice his english accent.

He has an accent, for fuck’s sakes!

“Uh, no, it’s fine,” you turn to look at the wall of tattoos again. “I actually don’t know what I want to get.”

“You like Rosy?” He says and you look to see him walk around the counter and make his way to stand next to you.

His fragrance hits your nostrils and you have to refrain from moaning. He smells exactly how a man should smell; husky and sexy at the same time.

“Who’s Rosy?” You ask, your voice wavering a little.

He points at the design of the dragon and the rose. “Get it? She was born from a rose.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I get it. It’s beautiful.”

You feel him glance at you as you stare at the design. Your cheeks burn from the intense attention he’s giving you.

“What brings you here?” He asks.

You shake your head and shrug. “Needed to get away-”

“-from reality,” he finishes for you.

You look at him and nod, smiling. “I bet you get a lot of those around here, huh?”

This time, he’s the one who shrugs. “I get a lot of stories. It’s one of the reasons I love the job.”

“So these are all your designs?” You ask, pointing at the wall. He nods and says nothing more. “Then why is it so empty?”

You both look around the room. Then he starts to chuckle, “I barely opened a few minutes ago, love. It doesn’t get crazy until much later.”

He called you ‘love’.

“Do you have an idea of what you want to get?”

“Yes. The word ‘DUMBASS’ on my forehead, please?”

“Sure, follow me,” he simply replies.

Your eyes go wide as they watch him start walking towards the back. “Hey, wait! I wasn’t actually being serious!”

“You weren’t?” He continues walking, forcing you to follow him anyway.

“I don’t want that as my first tattoo!” You insist.

“Then why are you following me?” He turns to look at you, his eyebrow raised and a smirk playing at his lips.

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips and you realize that it’s the first genuine smile you’ve had since you found out-

“Take a seat,” he tells you once he leads you into a vast room. A black leather chair sits in the middle of the room, the kind of chair that dentists have in their office.

You sit down and watch as he walks around the room, picking up instruments and small bottles of colored ink.

“I haven’t even told you what I want,” you tell him as your nerves start to take over.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, his back facing you as he fumbles with something.

“I don’t really think I have enough trust to give out to anybody anymore,” you sigh. “Especially to someone I don’t even know.”

He pauses what he’s doing and doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. You try to remember if you said anything that might have caused him to be offended. He then starts to remove his jacket and places it on the counter. Even from here you can tell he’s toned underneath his shirt and his exposed arms confirm it. He turns around slowly and takes a seat on the individual chair set up next to the one you’re sitting in.

“I’m Tom,” he says and reaches out with his hand.

You stare at his hand and then at him and then back down to his hand.

“I’m y/n,” you reply and slide your hand into his. It’s unexpectedly warm but smooth and he seems to hold your own hand for a while before he lets go.

“We know each other now, don’t we? Will you trust me?”

“It’s not that simple…” you start and he gives you a small smile.

“Will you let me tattoo you?” And the way he asks that question, the softness of his voice and the way his eyes stay glued on yours, makes you feel like that’s not really the question he wanted to ask. “I already have some things in mind… I can put one here,” he touches the inside of your wrist, “or here.” He slides his fingers up your arm until they reach the crease of your elbow, your whole arm erupting into goosebumps. He notices and glances quickly up at you before he continues, “A lot of people get small ones here,” he tells you and he’s leaning forward now. He pushes your hair back behind your shoulder and then touches your neck, just below your ear. His proximity and that intoxicating smell of his has you almost swooning.

“Will it hurt?” You ask breathlessly.

He’s so close to your face and he doesn’t seem to want to retreat anytime soon and it’s starting to make you feel lightheaded.

“It’s less painful than being heartbroken,” he states and finally sits back. He grabs the small gun where he attaches a black ink bottle.

You’re staring at him, completely shocked at what just came out of his mouth. “How- how did you know?”

“Your eyes,” he states as he squirts some ink onto a tray until the ink comes out. He glances up at you before taking your hand and pulling it towards him. He places your arm on the armrest of the chair and turns it so that your palm is facing up. “Do you trust me?”

Here’s this guy you barely met, with an tattoo gun in his hand, ready to permanently draw on your skin. Just a few hours ago, you swore to never trust any guy again.

“I trust you,” you murmur and you’re surprised when your words don’t carry regret in them.

He grins, “Good. You can’t look until I’m finished, though.”

You roll your eyes but lean back in the chair anyway. You hear the buzz of the gun as he powers it on and your heart stops. He senses your tension and you feel his hand lay on top of yours. You grip it tightly.

“Relax, love. I got you,” he says softly.

You take a deep breath and let it out and then feel the needle penetrate your skin. Again and again and again. Repeatedly.

“Who’s the asshole?” Tom asks as he continues to work and hold your hand.

“My boyf- my ex-boyfriend,” you reply and your thoughts drift to that moment you walked in on him in bed with someone else.

Tom was right. The needle poking your skin over and over is nothing compared to the ache you feel in your chest.

“What a dumbass,” is all Tom says but it makes you smile.

“How come you don’t have any tattoos?” You ask him as you recall not seeing any on him.

He stops tattooing you and then his face appears in your line of vision. “How do you know I don’t have any that you can’t see?” He smirks a playful smirk before disappearing once again and continuing your tattoo.

“When you’re done, can I see them?” You don’t even know what made you ask that but you were curious.

He doesn’t respond right away. “I’ll think about it.”

You continue to have small conversation and you learn that he dropped out of art school to pursue the dream of being a tattoo artist. He tells you that even though he doesn’t earn as much as a heart surgeon, creating art on someone’s body is much more satisfying.

The thoughts of your ex cheating on you completely disappear as you listen to his stories and he listens to yours. The hole in your chest is still there but the needle Tom uses to ink your skin seems to help ease the feeling.

“Almost done,” he tells you as he swipes your wrist with a damp towel several times. “I think that’s it. Ready to see it?”

You sit up straight and he lets go of your hand. He watches you as you look down at your wrist; where your skin used to be vacant, it is now embellished with a beautiful flower. Small dots decorated its shadows and all around it, creating depth. Blue ink outlined its petals while pink ink colored them in.

“Wow,” you breathe out. “What kind of flower is it?”

“A lotus flower,” he tells you. “They say that lotus flowers bloom no matter the bad or good weather. It made me think of you. Beautiful, no matter the situation you’re going through.”

At this, you look up at him and he’s staring at you so intently, it feels like your whole body is on fire.

“Now it’s your turn,” you tell him.

He chuckles as he stands up and walks towards a cabinet where he takes out some materials. “My turn for what? You’re going to tattoo me?”

“No, why would I scar you like that? Show me your tattoos!”

He sits back down next to you and pulls your arm towards him once again. He starts to bandage your wrist, placing a clear cover over your tattoo and taping it down. He then stands up and with his eyes glued to yours, he reaches behind him and pulls his shirt over his head.

Your jaw probably hits the floor because the sight in front of you is absolutely mesmerizing. His abs stand out immediately and everywhere your eyes roam, there is nothing but muscle and firmness.

“I just have a quote on my shoulder,” he points out to you.

“Well I can’t see it from down here,” you say and stand up. He’s still a little too tall for you to tell what it says. “Sit,” you order and he gives you a smirk before he sits on the chair.

You stand behind him and look at the lettering that spell out words you cannot comprehend. “What does it say?”

“Try to sound it out,” he replies.

“Non accipiet sed facilisis,” you say slowly.

He suddenly stands up and faces you. He towers a bit over you and the fact that he’s half naked makes you feel a bit intimidated. He’s grinning sweetly down at you as he speaks, “It means ‘take it easy but take it’ in Latin.”

“Why did you want me to sound it out?” Your voice comes out shakily.

“I wanted to hear it said in your voice. It sounded better than I expected.” He’s standing so close, his body heat can be felt even through the layers of your own clothing. “Did it help?”

“Did what help?”

“Getting your first tattoo to help you forget about your ex?”

“That,” you can’t help but smirk, “and some other things.”

“Hmm.” His lifts his hand and uses his fingers to push your hair back behind your ear. He continues his path down to your neck and then up to hold your chin. “Would you let me tattoo you again?”

His eyes stare straight at your lips and you know exactly what’s going to happen next. You can hear your own heart beating so fast, you think that maybe you’ve gone deaf.

“At this point, I’ll let you tattoo anything anywhere you want,” you whisper.

He smirks. “Good girl,” and then he’s leaning down, slowly, and you close your eyes and-

“TOM! YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

The shouts come from outside the room and you take a step back, completely startled.

“Fuck,” Tom spits out and then puts his shirt back on. He shoots you an apologetic look, “I’ll be right back, just stay here, okay?”

“Are you sure? I can go-”

“No. Please, stay,” he holds his hand up to stop you. “Just wait for me here.” He turns towards the door but before he steps out, he looks over his shoulder, “Trust me?”

“I do,” you respond immediately, and it’s true, you do trust him for some reason.

He opens the door and closes it after him but your curious self walks towards it and you press your ear against the door.

Their voices sound muffled but you can tell that the one who shouted is pissed. Is it an angry customer? Maybe you should call the police in case things got physical.

Before you make any hasty decisions, you decide to make sure Tom actually has everything handled. You turn the doorknob slowly and open the door and their voices finally are clear enough to understand.

“- respect you enough to know that sometimes you can’t stop shit from happening but this came from one of your guys, Tom. This is business we’re talking about.”

Tom’s back is facing you and you can barely make out the face of the booming voice yelling at Tom. “I know what the fuck we’re talking about, Dave. I’ll get Luke to sort it out and I’ll have your money ready by tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow morning,” Mean Man shoves a pudgy finger in Tom’s chest before he his eyes find you. His round face relaxes but it turns quickly into a sneaky stare. “Having yourself a little snack before the drop, I see.”

Tom follows his eyesight and his eyes almost bulge out of his sockets when he sees you staring. He turns away and points at the door, “Fuck off, Dave. We’re done here.”

“We’re done when I say we’re done,” Dave sneers at Tom and then speaks at you. “Ask Tom for my number if he doesn’t, uh,” he chuckles, “satisfy you.”

“Fuck you,” you reply.

Dave didn’t expect that at all and he’s rendered speechless. Tom laughs and shakes his head, “I think the lady’s said enough. Now get the fuck out of my shop.”

“Tomorrow, british boy.” And with that, Dave leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Tom goes to the door and locks it. He places his palms against it, his head hanging down between his shoulders. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” you tell him and step forward slowly.

He lifts his head but stays in the same position. He finds you standing behind the counter but says nothing. “You have some balls to be able to talk to Dave that way.”

“I think there was something in that ink you tattooed on me,” you say, showing him your wrist.

This earns you a soft laugh from him. He finally drops his arms and sighs. He walks in your direction and stands across from you, on the other side of the counter. You both say nothing for a while, just gazing at each other’s faces.

You’re not sure if you have feelings for someone you barely know- well, someone you thought you barely knew. Now you’re not even sure who he is. This dark, secret side of him somehow makes you want to know more about him and you don’t know why.

“You don’t want to get involved with me, y/n,” he whispers to you and there’s a sort of sadness in his stare.

It’s also the first time he’s said your name and you wish you could’ve recorded it just to hear it over and over again. A lullaby.

“Why not?” You ask.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“Somehow, I do,” you reply genuinely.

“Then trust me when I say that I’m no good for you,” he states.

You bite your lip as you feel the hole in your chest start to open up again. Why is this guy making you feel this way?

“Okay,” you force yourself to say. Maybe this is the right thing to do. Right?

“What?” He seems surprised.

“Fine, I won’t get involved with you,” you say, sounding pissed off. You make sure you have everything you need, avoiding his eyes and make your way around the counter. You feel slightly disappointed and you hate that you do because after everything that’s happened, you really didn’t want to get involved with a guy any time soon.

But Tom…

“You’re unbelievable,” he says and you turn to talk back but are completely taken by surprise when Tom’s hands are on either side of your face and his lips crashes on yours. The impact of his body on yours sends you tumbling back until your back hits the wall. His mouth is unforgiving; completely taking control in the way his lips move around yours.

Your hands fist around his shirt, pulling him closer. He pushes himself on you and you can’t help the small moan that escapes from the back of your throat and loses itself into his mouth.

The kiss is too passionate, making your head swoon, but you don’t mind; it’s a high you can never get enough of. After a few minutes, he lets go of your lips but leans his forehead against yours. You’re both completely breathless and you lick your lips, trying to get any taste of him that you can.

You open your eyes but his remain closed. You tilt your head slightly so that the tip of your nose rubs his and he grins. He finally opens his eyes and looks so deeply into yours, your knees turn weak. He leans forward and pecks your lips softly, over and over again, making you giggle softly.

“How much do I owe you?” You ask in between the kisses.

“For?”

“The tattoo,” you reply.

“This is enough,” he breathes out.

You both smile into your next kiss and you continue to kiss until you can no longer think straight.

Even though you could stay there forever if you wanted to, you place your hand on his chest to push him back. “As fun as this is, I gotta go. My friend might be worried.”

“Understandable. When will I see you again?” He isn’t as close as he was a few seconds ago but he remains close enough so that his hand is against the wall above your head.

“Uh, I need to come back here every now and then so you can check that it’s healing properly, right?” You ask, lifting your bandaged wrist.

He chuckles. “Yeah, that’s required. Here,” he pushes off the wall and goes to the counter and comes back to you. He hands you a small card, “Here’s my number in case if you have any questions or an… emergency.”

He has on a sly smirk that makes you believe the word ‘emergency’ has a different inuendo to it.

“Will do,” you reply and turn towards the exit.

“Did it help?” You hear him ask behind you.

You turn your head and nod, “Yep, most definitely.”

#tom holland #tomholland #tom holland imagine #tomhollandimagine #tom imagine #imagine #imagines

[theninjasanctuary]

As lucky as I’ve been to only have mild symptoms, 8+ days into said symptoms now, and I am not impressed with how recovery is going. Waking up, I felt weak and vaguely feverish again - not confirmed by the thermometer at the time, but sure enough, by the evening it was back at 37,2° like clockwork. I have had issues in the past with picking up a small cold and then having a fever every evening for a month or even longer. Sense of smell is still not there, as in, if I shove an open perfume bottle right under my nose and breathe in as hard as I can, there seems to be a vague trace of the usual fragrance (citrussy and sour notes at least), but nothing else. Food still has flavour, thankfully, but I’m not feeling up to cooking at all and eating whatever. Stretching for a couple of minutes concludes exercise for the day. Have sent some emails, but am not feeling up to work at all, even though I am desperately bored of everything else. OTL

I really, really wish I had the strength to figure out how to get some fucking help with my issues, because the amount of dead serious writing tasks for the next couple of years that are career-ending if I don’t complete them, is giving me a sense of blind, paralyzing panic, and I can’t even LOOK at any of the unfinished files I have open, never mind completing any meaningful sentences. 

Oh well. The weather has taken a sharp turn towards spring, it’s been around 6° C day and night for the past 48 hours and the snow is melting... the problem is, the walkways were not exactly well cleaned over the past month or so of copious snowfall, and then there was a day of ice rain on Tuesday, coating everything in nearly 2 cm of ice, so the thick layer of well packed snow and ice is taking a while to melt, and in the meantime, walking is a problem. And of course I am not allowed to go anywhere as is, even if I felt up to it, but I have a package in a DHL locker since Monday, and hopefully the boyf will brave the elements and pick it up tomorrow (he’s no longer quarantined, but is not feeling amazing either), or else they’ll send it back to the UK. OTL

I fucking hate phone calls from couriers in the morning, and my inability to make the right decisions. The guy called and asked if taking the package to a pickup locker instead of delivery would be ok. What was I supposed to tell him when I knew I’ve got covid, “no, I insist you deliver it in person?” Should have asked that he leave it outside the apartment door and ring the bell (it’s obvious he didn’t require a signature if a locker was an option), but I’m not thinking straight when rudely woken up at ungodly hours. Then again if I turn the phone off or decline calls, it’ll cause me even more hassle with delayed deliveries, and having someone pilfer my packages and the delivery service not taking a damn ounce of responsibility for it.

[lohst-in-time]

exit82 be more chill - a written bootleg

ACT ONE

first of all i’d like to say that the cheering was not nearly as excessive as tumblr led me to believe it wasn’t that bad and i could hear all the lines so!!! comfort to y’all

*spooky theramin hell dream commence*

JERE HAD THE VOICE OF A GOD, A VERY NERDY SMALL GINGER GOD

okay but the dad though we have to admire his skill to put on his pants so quickly to go and be a bus driver

the whole time brooke chloe and jenna are having their conversation jere is just awkwardly trying to discreetly slide his hand to his locker and honestly me

also brooke just like skips everywhere it’s adorable

everyone was just glancing around at each other while rich wrote boyf on the backpack like 👀👀👀👀👀

this jake definitely did a totally different thing for his jake than jake boyd but i LOVED it and he was really great!!!

the set for this was so versatile and stuff like they turned around the lockers and BAM there’s the play signup sheet it was cool as hell

jeremy does this cute cut-off gesture on “end scene” and it’s A+

C H R I S T I N E

oh my god where do i start with christine her overalls were great, her cat stockings were great, her voice was AMAZING like honestly y’all she was a blessing

SO LIKE i was sitting right by this exit door and turns out it’s where a L O T of people enter from so michael walked in all casually with his slushy right in front of me and i was n o t p r e p a r e d

michael was acting so high during his part it was great

MICHAEL MAKES KISSY FACES AT JERE FOR THE BOYF RIENDS PART AND I MEAN IT WAS PLAYED FOR LAUGHS BUT STILL

also when jere says his whole “i hate this school” thing michael just kinda smiles and shrugs so that was NICE

i can confirm that christine signing up for the play in this production is just as extra as it was in the original production

chloe’s “i like gay people” was like really loud it was great

can yall believe im still only in the first song

also the ensemble peeps were A++ i loved them

for the scene before play rehearsal there’s a whiteboard with drama club written on it in cute lettering and it’s great

CHRISTINE IS GOD

the whole song jeremy is just watching christine with a goofy grin like heck yeah i love this human and it’s adorable i loved it so much!!

christine’s NOISES!!!!!! A++++++

at the end with the “we’re starting” christine just kept pausing at staring at the whiteboard expectantly until she turns to jere and is like “soooooon” and it was both pure and hilarious

MR REYES HAD LIKE A MULLET/PONYTAIL COMBINATION WIG THING AND IT WAS AMAZING

when mr reyes says the thing about frisbee golf this ensemble guy just goes like “yeah!!” it was great

christine looked so genuinely distraught over midsummer nightmare with zombies

also when mr reyes announces it he flips the whiteboard to reveal midsummer nightmare with zombies written in like this beautiful calligraphy it was blessed

he’s so aggressive with “THE MAN IS DEAD LET IT GO” oh my god

so in this version jake is way more just obviously hitting on christine rather than genuinely saying all the stuff about romeo and juliet and i don’t know how i feel about it but he delivered it really well so !!!!!!

the audience audibly sadly awwed when christine didn’t notice jeremy speaking

RICHARD FUCKIN GORANSKI OH MY GODNESS

the lisp is alive and well by the way

fRESHMAN YEEAR

basically the squip song was very extra i loved it

everyone was so excited at the “its from japan”

RICH JUST WIPES HIS PISS HANDS ON JEREMYS FACE AND SHIRT WHAT THE FUCK RICHARD

DODODODODODODODODODODODODODODODODODO

michael just deadass lights a blunt during two player game it’s hilarious

the pacman tattoo is confirmed to be on michael’s right arm i took note

MICHAEL DABBED TWICE

on the line “i wanna move on” jeremy just sorta whinily shakes michael’s arm it’s great

during the favorite person part michael just lowkey rests his head on jere’s shoulder and is promptly playfully shoved so that he falls facefirst into the two bean bags and he just sorta lays there for a bit it’s amazing

for the final chorus part thing they both just do these ridiculous karate moves and shit in the front while video game characters take off the set it’s so extra and blessed i loved it

tHERES TWO SALESPEOPLE

instead of the sideburns comment jeremy just awkwardly says “so, my chemical romance right” it was the best

when jeremy opens the shoebox michael in the background just lowkey moves his phone up in the air and takes a picture then looks really satisfied and pleased with it

press f to pay respects to jeremy’s bar mitzvah money

the squip looks just like this cool villainy dude at first but over the course of the show he slowly gets more and more squippy and villainy looking it’s so FUCKIN COOL

also when the squip first shows up little drop down things on the ceiling of the squip wire shit shows up and there’s also more big ones that show up in upgrade it’s just a cool lil thing that i liked

the squip squat-sits a lot. just a psa

AT THE “SHE WAS CHEATING ON ME” PART JEREMY STRAIGHT UP FLIPS THESE CLOTHES IN THE AIR AND FLAILS AROUND ON THE GROUND WHAT THE FUCK JEREMIAH

do you wanna ride was both uncomfortable and hilarious at the same time it was p amazing

there were these short pauses in between each “in” in pinkberry at the end it was super funny

at the end of be more chill part two when everyone sets jeremy down on the bed the squip says like “be careful with him he’s delicate”

jere: *aggressively tapping his head* hellooo are you on? mr heere: son are you talking to yourself again jere: i...guess i am mr heere: okay

from now on jeremy wears his eminem shirt AND this black coat vest thing it actually looks pretty good

at play rehearsal everyone does southern accents during their lines it’s amazing

“cough.”

JEREMY AND CHRISTINE SLOW DANCE DURING GUY I’D KINDA BE INTO THIS IS NOT A DRILL

“im sorry i don’t know why im crying” BIG MOOD JEREMIAH

“noooooooo....ot exactly”

jere is forced to make out with brooke and he clearly looks very uncomfortable and i felt so bad jvnghfkd

“that...that’s illegal” “yeah, it’s totally illegal!” SHFGJSCKISFTDYIDV

everyone highkey gasped/sadly awwed when jere said optic nerve blocking on

ACT TWO

brooke’s sexy dog costume jvndhdksj

RICH DEADASS HAS A FUCKIN BAGUETTE MACHETE I DIED

I AM IM READY FOR YOUR HALLOWEEN PARTY

“i do not understand the request” YES YOU FUCKIN DO SHUT UP TIC TAC MAN

*bathtub prop is brought onstage* FUCK IM NOT EMOTIONALLY READY-

NOT ONLY DOES JEREMY CALL HIM A LOSER BUT HE SHOVES HIM INTO THE BATHTUB TOO OH MY GOD NO

the audience reaction was INSANE people were ooing and awwing and gasping all around me and it was surreal as fuck

THIS BOY MIKEY WAS L I T E R A L L Y CHOKING BACK THE TEARS HE SOUNDED SO UPSET I CANT DESCRIBE IT ACCURATELY BUT HE SOUNDED LIKE HE WAS ACTUALLY SOBBING IT HURT ME

by the way this dude has the voice of an angel. of a god. a god angel. an angel god.

christine and jeremy’s weird noise exchange was the cutest damn thing ever

everyone in the audience sounded so sad when christine said no to going out with jeremy but i mean WE WERE SAD EVEN THOUGH MOST OF US KNEW IT WAS GONNA HAPPEN

SMARTPHONE HOUR WAS HYPE AS SHIT OKAY ALSO THE DRAG REPRESENTATION WAS LIVING

they all start out in bathrobes and stuff (LIKE I ALWAYS PICTURED IT TOO I WAS INTERNALLY SCREAMING!!!) then they take them off to reveal these like shiny elastic outfits like in a zumba class or something it was amazing

BROOKE DROPPING HER PHONE THEN SCREECHING AND DIVING AFTER IT IS M Y NEW AESTHETIC

okay but when the squip walks out for the scene before pitiful children he looks like a straight up evil electronic BADASS he got Cloaks For Days (also his makeup was On Point the whole show so just sayin)

everyone in the audience made sad noises when jenna said her line about knowing everyone’s business but honestly i felt a Sad at that part

JENNA NAILED THOSE HIGH NOTES also she just deadass pulled the Mountain Dew out of her coat jvnghfk

LIGHT UP SHOES DURING PITIFUL CHILDREN THIS IS NOT A DRILL EVERYONE

THE PANTS SONG WAS AMAZING also michael was super defensive when mr heere asked if he loved jeremy like he super quickly was like “NO” i just thought it was intriguing

JERES COSTUME ON MR REYES WAS SO SMALL HIS SHIRT WAS LITERALLY A CROP TOP

during the rich flashback the play background curtain thing comes down a bit to show the flashback and then comes back up it was cool

“MICHAEL MAKES AN ENTRANCE” “AAAAAAAAAAAAA”

THE KUNG FU FIGHT THING also michael still keeps jeremy in this body hug thing to keep him restrained long after he needs to be just something i noticed

during the “confession” part christine and jeremy slow dance again BUT i paid attention to michael in the background and he looked DISTRAUGHT i deadass actually saw him wipe a tear and start walking away (before coming back when jere gives her the mountain dew red) and HOLY SHIT YALL I WAS HURT

michael is just left in this pile of bodies and he literally just shouts “OH FUCK” and honestly SAME

R I C H A R D oh my god first of all this whole scene he is like just smiling his ass off in this full body cast and the lisp was super alive and everyone lost their SHIT at the totally bi part it was so great and when michael comes in he’s like so excitedly ranting about what happened that he fuckin shakes jere’s hospital bed it was great ALSO IM ALMOST POSITIVE THAT RICH WAS WEARING AN LGBT SHIRT FOR VOICES IN MY HEAD CAN SOMEONE HELP CONFIRM THIS

i have never heard so many people gasp because of a man walking onstage wearing pants

BROOKE AND CHLOE SWITCHED SHIRTS THIS IS NOT A DRILL

i was really glad that everyone including michael were so happy for jeremy and christine it was pure

im emotionally worn out that was a ride thanks for listening hope yall will be able to visually see this beauty someday

#be more chill #bmc #bmc musical #exit 82 #exit 82 theatre

[machihunnicutt]

Could you write a tree bros or boyf riends body swap?

(Hey there! Sorry this took so long. I got a little carried away.)

Michael clenched his fists again. His jaw trembled though he tried to stop it. “We have to talk about this stuff Jeremy. You can’t just shut me out.”

“I said I’m fine,” Jeremy repeated through gritted teeth, but he was pulling his t-shirt back on. It was suffocatingly hot even in Michael’s basement and Jeremy had taken off his shirt. Michael had blushed furiously (because it was Jeremy so of course he had) before noticing the shock scars along his spine. He had had them from before. Michael had watched them fade over time during trips to the pool and whenever they happened to change around each other. These scars, however, were fresh. 

“That bastard’s shocking you again? Are you out of Mountain Dew Red?”“No I’m…” Jeremy didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s not that bad.”

“You don’t deserve that Jer. You know that right? This isn’t some self hate bullshit again is it because I can’t…”

“I don’t want to talk about it Michael!” He spat. “Can we just play the game?” It had been a good day up until then. Maybe Michael should’ve just kept his mouth shut.

Jeremy hugged his knees and stared at the fan. He looked tired, eyes sunken and skin pale. 

“Why can’t we talk about it Jeremy? If the Squip is bothering you I want to…”“You don’t understand Michael,” he said, shaking his head vigorously. “You just can’t understand okay? Let’s just drop it. I’m fine. Let’s play the game.”

Michael didn’t want to drop it. Everything in him was screaming that he shouldn’t drop it. But he didn’t want Jeremy to storm off by himself. If Jeremy was by himself he was weaker to the Squip and Michael didn’t want that. 

“Fine,” he said tightly. “Let’s play.”

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal if Michael Mell weren’t completely, 100% head over heels in love with his best friend Jeremy Heere. The crush seemed to complicate most everything. 

Of course he had no intention of ever telling him. Jeremy was still getting over Christine. After they’d broken up Jeremy said he was fine, and that they were great as just friends, but Michael knew him well enough to read the disappointment in his expression. Jeremy didn’t like him the way Michael wanted him to. And that was okay. He’d get over it. He was getting over it. 

Jeremy left around ten. They didn’t speak much after Jeremy’s outburst. It was awkward at first but soon they settled into the comfortable silence of friendship. Toward the end of the night they were almost back to normal: quiet banter and soft smiles occupied the (now less) sweltering basement. 

“See you tomorrow,” Michael said as he left. 

Jeremy managed a smile. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

***

The moment Michael woke up he knew something was wrong. First of all, the crack on his ceiling that he always fell asleep staring at was gone. Second of all, when he sat up he realized he wasn’t wearing the pajamas he went to bed in. And his hands weren’t his hands. And neither was anything else. He’d woken up in Jeremy’s room and upon stumbling into Jeremy’s bathroom he confirmed that he was also in Jeremy’s body. 

“Fuck,” Michael said with Jeremy’s voice. “Fuck! I’ve lost my mind.” He pinched Jeremy’s arm and it hurt. 

What are you going on about?

The sudden voice in his head nearly gave him a heart attack. It was low and annoyed in a vaguely menacing fashion. It was the Squip in Jeremy’s head. “This isn’t happening,” Michael said.  

What is your deal Jeremy? Has the pot finally killed all your brain cells?

The Squip thought he was Jeremy. He guessed it was weak enough now to reside on the sidelines of Jeremy’s brain. 

“No,” he said aloud, voice cracking in the cute way Jeremy’s always did. “I just need to call Michael.” If he was here then Jeremy must be at his house…in his body. He thought he might faint. 

We talked about this Jeremy. The Squip whined. You’re not allowed to pine 24/7. “Pine? I’m not…he doesn’t. Shit can you stop for a second?“ 

We both know you’re out of Mountain Dew Red. The Squip taunted cruelly. I thought you said you deserved my help?

Jeremy had said he deserved to be berated by this asshole. Michael’s chest ached. He needed to call him. He needed to call him right now. He grabbed Jeremy’s phone, and realized with horror that he didn’t know his passcode. Dammit. He tried Jeremy’s birthday, then Christine’s birthday, before giving up he tried his own birthday. The phone unlocked. Michael flushed red. 

He scrolled through Jeremy’s contacts until he found the name Player Two. "C'mon, pick up, pick up.” It went to voicemail. Michael’s heart was in his throat. 

“Jeremy! Are you up? You’re going to miss the bus,” Jeremy’s dad shouted from downstairs. 

This was going to be awful. This was actually going to be awful. He got dressed quickly, with his eyes closed and proceeded to brush Jeremy’s teeth and hair and put on his backpack and get on his bus which was all immensely weird. He had to find not Michael before class started. That is if Jeremy had even gotten his body to school. Worst case scenarios involving panic attacks and fear clouded his thoughts. Calm down Michael. Don’t freak out until you know you have something to freak out about. He chewed on his nails nervously until he felt a sharp shock at his, Jeremy’s he reminded himself, spine. 

“What the hell?” He whispered harshly. 

Don’t bite your nails Jeremy. The Squip said, amused. 

So this was the kind of shit he got scars for? Michael wished, more than ever, for the Squip to be a physical person so he could beat the crap out of it. Michael stopped biting Jeremy’s nails. 

When he got to school Jeremy wasn’t anywhere he usually was. He checked his locker and Jeremy’s and the picnic table outside where they sometimes hung out before class. He wasn’t anywhere. Rich was at the table. 

“Hey Jer, where’s Michael? Thought you two were joined at the hip.”

“I haven’t seen him. Have you?” Michael asked, trying to keep his voice even but Jeremy’s nerves betrayed him. 

Rich’s brow furrowed. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Michael squeaked. “Can you let me know if you see Jeremy…I mean Michael. I’m Jeremy, obviously. Yeah…”

Rich laughed. “Alright weirdo.”

Luckily, Michael knew Jeremy’s schedule by heart, and since he thought it might be more trouble to wander around looking for him, he headed to Jeremy’s first period English. 

He managed to keep a low profile until lunch, only slipping up several times by not responding to the name Jeremy. 

At lunch Jeremy wasn’t at their usual table. He pulled out Jeremy’s phone and shot him a text:

Hey Jer, I know this is super weird and you’re probably freaking out but if you’re at school you should meet me. If not I’m going to come over after and we can try to fix this Freaky Friday shit. Don’t worry. - Michael

“Jeremy!” Michael looked up to see Christine Caligula smiling at him with her lunch tray in hand. “Is Michael here? Can I sit?" 

"Yeah, of course,” he croaked. Michael liked Christine. He just didn’t really know her. 

“Okay bro, it’s time to dish.” She put her carton of fries between them to share and stared at him intently. 

“Dish what?” He asked dumbly. He thought, for a moment, that she might be onto him. Maybe his Freaky Friday fiasco had triggered others and Christine was actually Chloe or Jenna or Jake. 

“We have a deal remember? I give you all the hot gossip about the theater kids and you update me on Operation Confess Your Feelings to Michael Mell?”

“Confess my…” Michael nearly choked. “Confess my what now?”

Christine rolled her eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me. How are things regarding your huge crush on him?”

“I…um.” Michael took a long drink from his milk jug to avoid answering. 

“Um…Jeremy?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m…oh shit I’m allergic to milk aren’t I?”

“Uh, huh,” Christine said. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m going to…uh, go to the bathroom. Sorry Christine.”

He darted off before he could hear her reply. He pinched himself a second time to confirm that this wasn’t all a twisted fever dream. It wasn’t. Jeremy had feelings for him? Like romantic feelings? Like maybe he reciprocated every gay thought Michael had had about him since the 8th grade? He locked a bathroom stall and stood there, thinking about it for a while. Jeremy’s hands shook when he was nervous. And when he stepped back out to look at the mirror Jeremy’s face was a splotchy red. He could do this. He just had to get through the rest of the day and find Jeremy. 

By the time he made it to his house he was a sweating, trembling, mess. The Squip shocked him three more times for various nervous habits. Each time he felt more on edge, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. 

He pounded on his door and Jeremy, well Jeremy in his body, answered immediately. 

“Michael!” Jeremy’s expressions looked different on Michael’s face. He could tell that his face didn’t normally look like that. “You are Michael right?” He asked after. “We Freaky Fridayed right?”

“Yeah,” Michael replied. “I think we did." 

Jeremy grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him inside. "I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, and too loudly. “I’m so sorry Michael. I don’t know how but this is probably my fault. Oh my god has it been talking to you? Did the Squip hurt you Michael I swear to god…”

Michael? You’re not Jeremy?

“I’m fine but what about you?” He took Jeremy by the shoulders and looked him over. “You scared me when you didn’t answer my text.” He hugged him tightly to his chest and Jeremy’s shoulders relaxed. 

“I guess I’m a good hugger huh?” He laughed. “You went to school as me?”

“Yeah,” Michael said.

Jeremy looked down. “I uh…kind of panicked.”

“It’s okay,” Michael said. His heart hurt. “How often does the Squip shock you?”Jeremy looked up at him, eyes, Michael’s eyes, watery. “Did it…?”

“How often Jer?”

“A couple times a day. Fewer when I have the Mountain Dew.”

Michael didn’t tell him that he’d been shocked four times. 

“I’m sorry,” he broke down. Michael recognized the quivering that always showed up in his voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry this happened. I’m sorry it…”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. It’s hard. I get that now.” Michael burned with embarrassment every time he got shocked. The more it happened the more it felt like he deserved it. He understood why Jeremy didn’t want to talk about it. But he needed to. 

“What else did you learn about me?” Jeremy muttered. 

Michael felt light headed. They were still standing in the doorway. “I uh…well Christine said that you…um…I, Jeremy?”

“Yeah?” It was weird to look at himself and say it, but he needed to be brave. 

“I’m in love with you.”

“You what?” He squeaked. 

“I’m really gay for you Jeremy Heere. If we weren’t in each other’s bodies I’d ask if I could kiss you.”

“I love you too!” Jeremy shouted, then quieted again. “That was loud. But I do! I uh…Christine told you didn’t she?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I thought you were still hung up on her.”

“I’m not,” he replied. 

“Cool,” Michael said, grinning.

“Cool,” Jeremy repeated. 

“So…do you think we’ll wake up normal tomorrow? I feel like I’ve learned my lesson, or whatever I was supposed to.”

“I think so,” Jeremy said. “Do you wanna sleep here?”

“Sure.” He handed over his phone. “Text your dad.”

He was right. Michael woke up to Jeremy’s sleeping face. He’d drooled a little in his sleep and his eyelashes were fluttering slightly against his cheeks. Michael thought about the scars and made a mental note to order more Mountain Dew. He leaned forward and kissed him gently on the forehead. Jeremy’s eyes fluttered open. His smile was wide and dorky. 

“I’m me.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Of course.”

Jeremy’s lips were soft and Michael’s pulse was quick. The kiss was gentle and sweet and perfect. Jeremy pulled back. 

“I’m glad you’re you,” he whispered. 

“I’m glad you’re you too.”

#boyf riends #michael mell #jeremy heere #be more chill #body swap AU #the squip #christine canigula #george salazar #will connolly #awi's fic #ask awi #anon

[linalove4561]

Rich Goranski Masterpost

Alright, this one is going to be a lot longer than my Kurt and Ram one just because Rich has a lot more character, and differences between the book and the musical.  Let’s fucking do this.

MUSICAL:

~ Appearance, Gerard Canonico.  Light brunette hair spiked up.  Earrings, short.  A blue popganda x mishka muscle tee with an eye in the middle.  ( Christ, I love that shirt. )  He pairs this with camo pants.  He’s also seen wearing a red, blue, and white button up flannel.  He’s lacking the streak in the musical.  He also has a lisp.

~ At the start of the musical, he is instantly revealed to be a bully and a stereotypical douchey guy character.  He shoves Jeremy, writes BOYF on his backpack, threatens him into not removing the words, and then goes to talk to Jake about sex.  He also calls Jeremy gay.

~ During the Squip Song, Rich reveals that he feels bad for bullying Jeremy and that his Squip told him to do it.  He shows genuine remorse for his actions.  We also see he is extremely frustrated with the confirmation that he was practically invisible, not even a loser like Jeremy noticed him.  Then he gives the explanation of the Squip, and Jeremy is convinced to get one of his own.

~ They also describe Rich talking to his Squip like he’s getting a message from beyond, muttering under his breath and twitching.  It’s creepy.

~ Rich is beyond thrilled when Jeremy receives his Squip.  He seems happy that he finally has a Squip buddy, bombarding Jeremy instantly with an invitation to play video games with him.

~ In this part, a major thing is revealed.  Jeremy’s Squip prompts him to give Rich a “finder’s fee,” and Rich is beyond grateful.  He thanks Jeremy, and explains that things are kind of rough at home.  This makes me think that Rich had been planning on using the money from selling the Squip to provide himself with something that his parents couldn’t afford or were too neglectful to provide.

~ I’d also like to point out here that Rich has a box of Squip pills in his locker, which only makes me believe that Rich is selling them for money since things are so bad at home.

END OF ACT 1

~ Halloween, a major turning point for Rich.  It’s revealed he has an older brother, and he dresses as Jason--quite half assed.  He takes the mask and pairs it with a loaf of bread.  He seems genuinely fine until the very end of the song, where he proceeds to dance on his own.  Desperate.  And then he starts bugging people for Mountain Dew Red.  He wants to be rid of his Squip, and without a way out, he lights the house up.

~ There are many theories about what led Rich to want his Squip gone, but I personally think he drank with the Squip on.  In Smartphone Hour, it’s said that Rich had barely touched a drop.  Implying he had at least SOMETHING to drink.  That, and in an ask, Joe said himself that Jenna and Dustin were not reliable sources.  In the book, he was also drunk with his Squip on.  However, that’s the book, not the musical, so that doesn’t apply here. We’ll get to the book shortly.

~ We don’t see any Rich after this point until after everything's said and done.  Rich comes to the conclusion that he’s bi.  He’s confident in himself and the fact that both the ladies and the guys will love the real Rich Goranski.  He also shows a genuine joy and hope that Michael told him that someone would be lucky to have him.  Until Michael closes the curtain on him.  Rude.

~ Another few things I’d like to address just for shits and giggles.  In a few asks with Joe, it's been revealed that Rich would ask Michael to prom.  It was also revealed that his Squip is Evil Kermit, and that he’s confident with his burn scars.

BOOK:

God, I’m not ready for this.  Yes, I am.  Let’s do it.

~ Appearance, Rich is described as a shorter boy, but still built.  He has blond hair with a streak that makes him look like a rooster. He has a lisp in the book as well, with Jeremy saying he sounds like a snake when he talks.

~ Rich is also shown as a bully/douchey character in the book as well.  When he enters during the lunchroom scene, he calls Michael a tall ass as well as Jeremy.  Then calls them punks.  And the next time we see him, it’s in the bathroom where he continues to bully Jeremy by calling him a fudge packer and taunting him.  We also see here that he’s extremely confident, as Jeremy goes on to describe, “He hitches his pants like his penis is so huge, he has to take special precautionary measures getting it out.”

~ When Jeremy goes to the party, he is greeted by Rich, who despite knowing it’s Jeremy under the mask, speaks with him and offers him sips of his scotch.  They proceed to go inside, and Rich talks Jeremy’s ear off.  It seems Rich doesn’t really mind that Jeremy isn’t listening the entire time, almost like Rich just likes the sound of his own voice.

~ After his ramblings on Chloe, her threesome, and lack of an ability to wear panties, Rich shows off his skills.  Showing off how fucking pimping he is by getting a girl named Samartha (dressed like wonder woman) to make out with him and lick his belly button with little to no convincing.  He’s just that cool.

~ Just kidding.  He then proceeds to tell Jeremy about the Squip.  Bonus, Rich is dressed as a giant weed leaf.

~ His description of the Squip is near identical to the wording used in the Squip song.  And just like in the musical, it’s revealed that he feels bad for bullying Jeremy.  To quote the book, ““I’m personally sorry for treating you like a piece of garbage all the time.” Rich looks humble and reverent.  “I only do it because my Squip tells me to.  It advised me that I’d have to be a dick to you for social reasons, but recently it started saying that you were a decent guy actually who might want one of your own.””

~ During this, we actually get a little inside info on what Rich’s Squip did with him.  The first thing his Squip did was teach him to get girls, then to do sports and get muscles.  Then it told him who to befriend and who to make enemies with.  ( He mentions Jeremy was a minor part.)  Then it got him with all three of the hot girls to solidify his social standing.

~ Just like in the musical, Rich is hella hyped that Jeremy has his own Squip.  And just like in the musical, Jeremy is prompted to give Rich a finder’s fee and Rich reveals, “Things are kinda bad at my house.”

~ After this, Rich takes Jeremy to his dank and creepy place to smoke and shit.  He backs Jeremy up on one of his claims and then takes off with a girl.  (Whom also licked his belly button.)

~ At the party, Jeremy is dragged away by Rich to watch Jake have sex.  Rich is a creep who watches cool guys have sex, shout out to him.

~ Rich’s laugh is, “Blukhuhuhuhuhuh.”

~ Without his Squip on, we see that Rich can be pretty cute and dorky on his own.  He throws his shoe and an ashtray at Jeremy while having a friendly, teasing conversation with him.  After this, he teases Jeremy for talking to his Squip out loud, then exits.  The next we hear about him is that he set a fire and is badly burned.

~ Continuing on the Rich is a dork topic, Jeremy thinks about him when informed of the fire, and thinks, “The last time I saw Rich he was smiling at me.  I think about how no matter how cool Rich got, he returned to his dork roods at the end, throwing that ashtray at me and whining, alone on a couch.”

~ Jeremy also reveals that Rich was drunk with his Squip on.  That Rich had had a Squip for months, and he was probably experimenting with it to see what it could take.  His Squip confirms this is most likely the case.  This reveals why Rich most likely set the fire in the book, seeing as earlier Jeremy’s Squip said that Jeremy couldn’t drink/get high with him on or he might start ordering him to kill people.

~ Back at school, Jeremy takes note that Rich has flowers in front of his locker, however, Jake has more.  Because he was cooler.  (Ouch, my heart.)  Jeremy also takes obvious disgust in the fact that all these people pretend to care even though they really don’t.

~ That’s about it for the book.  We don’t get much closure with Rich.  But I’d also like to point out that Rich has an obvious belly button fetish.  Throughout the book, two girls are seen licking his belly button.  Samartha and Abby.  Jeremy also takes note that, “That must be his thing.”  Later on, Jeremy also finds it slightly odd that Rich is lounging without a girl attached to his belly button.

#rich goranski #jake dillinger #jeremy heere #the squip #michael mell #chloe valentine #be more chill #bmc #belly button #RICH SET A FIRE #I NEED MOUNTAIN DEW RED #can i tag brooke #nah she's not in this #i might start doing these masterposts as a hobby

[pllsetskyonice]

@yuriplisetsky is a size queen

Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky

2,900 words

“What are you talking about?”

“Your Twitter? Your thread that spends about ten tweets waxing poetry about the size of my dick? Everyone’s talking about it, the fans are going crazy, I had Victor ringing me up half an hour ago to ask if it was true and if I really had deflowered Russia’s Fairy like that, and I just – what the hell were you thinking, Yuri?”

In which Yuri gets drunk and Tweets some things he probably shouldn't have.

AO3 link

So @94mercy made this post that headcanoned that Yuri gets drunk one night and talks about the size of Otabek’s dick on social media, and I immediately knew I had to write it. Otherwise known as me just wanting to join in with all the hung!Otabek content that’s been coming out of this fandom in recent weeks. 

(Also tagging @daddybek because that’s where this all started back in February)

They’ve been dating for a few months when it happens.

Yuri goes round to Mila’s for a few drinks after practice one day, and they steadily make their way through a bottle of vodka, laughing and talking about their respective partners. The music is loud and Yuri feels all loose and giggly as he reaches for his phone, taking selfies and documenting their escapades on Snapchat. He’s never been this drunk before, so drunk he’s not even sure what order his memories from the last few hours go in, so drunk that he can barely stand, so drunk that the room is spinning.

He sits down and opens Twitter, starting to type. He doesn’t even think about what he’s Tweeting, just starts a thread and keeps on going until he gets it all off his chest. Mila is grabbing at his hands and pulling him up so they can dance together again, and Yuri’s phone lies on the couch, forgotten.

So he doesn’t see what he’s done until morning.

-

It’s the sound of his phone vibrating loudly on the bedside table that wakes him up. He’s in Mila’s spare bedroom, a small sized room with what feels like the most uncomfortable bed he’s ever slept on, but it evidently didn’t bother him at whatever time he collapsed onto last night. At least he made it into bed, he supposes. That’s an achievement, even if he’s still wearing yesterday’s clothes.

He grabs at his phone, squinting at the screen. It reads 6 AM, and is somehow fully charged, even though he has doesn’t remember plugging it in last night. It’s far too early. Yuri wants nothing more at this particular moment in time than to roll over and go back to sleep to avoid dealing with this hangover from hell, but it’s Otabek that’s calling him, so he supposes that he’d better answer.

“Hello?” he says, his voice sounding all croaky as he unplugs his phone and rolls back onto his back. There’s light streaming in through a gap in the curtains, and Yuri would get up and close them properly, but they’re too far away to deal with right now. Instead, he opts for the easier option: pulling his blankets over his head.

“Yuri, what the fuck?” Otabek asks on the other end of the line. Even in this still half drunk, hungover state, Yuri can tell that this is Not Good. “What were you thinking?”

“What are you talking about?” Yuri replies. He wonders if it’s about his and Mila’s Snapchat stories, but from what he can remember there’s nothing too outrageous on them, just some really bad singing in questionable English to pop songs neither of them like.

“Your Twitter? Your thread that spends about ten tweets waxing poetry about the size of my dick? Everyone’s talking about it, the fans are going crazy, I had Victor ringing me up half an hour ago to ask if it was true and if I really had deflowered Russia’s Fairy like that, and I just – what the hell were you thinking, Yuri?”

Yuri fumbles with his phone, opening Twitter with his phone call with Otabek still active in the background. He doesn’t even need to go onto his profile to see it, it’s all over his timeline. “Oh, shit,” he swears as he scrolls through the Tweets. “I don’t even remember posting any of this. I was so drunk, Beka. So drunk. I’m sorry.”

-

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

Alright buckle in its gonna be a bumpy ride let me tell you a thing or two about the size of @otabekaltin’s dick

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

I hope you’re ready bc I sure as hell wasn’t the first time I saw it – tho in fairness he did warn me about it beforehand

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

But I’m gonna be honest here and say I had to take a moment when we did somethinh sexual for the first time bc girl, I couldn’t’ cope

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

Shall we talk about the time he fucked me for the first time?

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

YES WHAT A WONDERUFL IDEA KETS CARRY ON TALKING ABOUT THE SIZE OF MY BOYF’S DICK FOR THE NEXT TEN MINUTS

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

After all of the prep (srsly ive never seen so much lube lmao) he finally entered me (is that even the right word idk I’m so drunk rn)

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

I’ve never felt so full in my whole life it was SO GOOD 10/10 WOULD RECOMMEND (although hands off he’s mine)

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

honestly tho I swear the sex gets better every time? He REALLY know what he’s doing with that thing let me tell you

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

I did once ask if he needed a licence for it, he didn’t take it well lmao. Anyway, tl;dr: @otabekaltin’s dick is a godsend and

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

I am forever grateful that I’ve got to experience such a masterpiece so many different times in so many different positions

Christophe Giacometti @c_giacometti · 5h ago

Replying to @yuriplisetsky, @otabekaltin

Holy mother of god is this true? PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS TRUE

Yuri Angels @yuriangels10 · 5h ago

Replying to @yuriplisetsky, @otabekaltin, @c_giacometti

AHAHAHA WE’VE BEEN SAYING THIS FOR AGES WE CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING

-

“Yeah, I figured, from the numerous spelling mistakes and yours and Mila’s Snapchat stories from last night,” Otabek says, sighing. “But that doesn’t make this okay, Yuri.”

“I know,” Yuri says miserably as he continues to scroll through the shit storm that’s taken over his Twitter. “Do you want me to delete the tweets?”

“I’m not sure what good that’ll do at this stage,” Otabek says. “They’ve already been screenshotted and reposted too Tumblr and Instagram and Facebook so many times that deleting the original tweets doesn’t mean that people will stop talking about it.”

“True,” Yuri agrees. He hasn’t checked Tumblr yet but he already feels like the Yuri Plisetsky tag will be trending on there, full of screenshots taken from Twitter and detailed posts discussing it all. Instagram will be full of people screaming in the comments, and Facebook will have people criticising his decision to share this all on the internet for everyone to see. No doubt someone has already put together a compilation video on YouTube of closeups of Otabek’s crotch with Yuri’s tweets edited onto it. “I can’t apologise enough for all of this. I’m so sorry.”

-

russian fairy @plsetsky · 4h ago

@yuriplisetsky is a size queen

Jenna @xxknifeshoesxx · 4h ago

Replying to @plsetsky

I can’t believe that this is confirmed, what the hell

skate away @quadloop · 4h ago

Replying to @plsetsky, @xxknifeshoesxx

Is it just me that rlly wants to know just how big Otabek is now?

russian fairy @plsetsky · 4h ago

Nah (I mean it might be bordering the slightly creepy territory but still, SOMEONE FETCH THE GUY A TAPE MEASURE)

-

“I know,” Otabek says. “I’m not happy that this has happened, but it has, so we’ll deal with it – oh no, Victor’s just messaged in the group chat.”

-

Victor: EXPLAIN YOURSELVES

Victor: [multiple screenshots of Twitter threads]

Yuri: …

Yuri: why the hell should we have to explain ourselves to you two??!

Victor: BECAUSE IT SEEMS LIKE EVERYONE IN THE SKATING WORLD IS TALKING ABOUT THE SIZE OF OTABEK’S DICK AND HOW MUCH YOU LOVE IT AND WHY DID YOU POST THIS ALL ONTO TWITTER?

Yuri: jesus

Yuri: stop yelling

Yuri: I was drunk and said some things on twitter, it’s not a big deal

Victor: It very clearly is!

Victor: Yakov is going to have your head off over this, I’m surprised he hasn’t called you yet

Victor: If you thought he was mad at you after Welcome To The Madness, then you’ve really got another thing coming

Yuri: I can handle yakov thank you

Otabek: I’d make a joke about how if you can handle my dick you can handle anything but somehow I don’t think that would be appreciated

Yuri: oh my god beka

Victor: You’re right, it wouldn’t be appreciated

Yuuri: Maybe

Yuuri: Maybe it doesn’t matter because they’re both consenting adults and what goes on behind closed door isn’t anyone’s business but theirs?

Victor: Yuuri I love you but that’s not the point

Victor: They’re going to get people going on about this for months, in interviews, in articles, online… it’ll come back to haunt you in five years’ time at a party when someone’s flicking through their camera roll and finds the tweets and is like, “oh wow who remembers when?”

Yuri: alright I get it my tweets are a ghost that’ll come back to haunt me

Yuri: can we all please calm down I really don’t want to deal with this rn

Victor: Is that because you’re hungover? Well you should’ve thought about that before you got drunk and posted a bunch of stupid tweets to twitter!

Yuri: *true, not stupid

Yuri: and stfu victor

Yuri: no one cares what you have to say

-

Phichit Chulanont @phichit_chu · 3h ago

I’M YELLING pic.twitter.com/t35v5f

Phichit Chulanont @phichit_chu · 3h ago

Someone should get yuri drunk more often this is GOLD

Mila Babicheva @mila_b · 20m ago

Replying to @phichit_chu

I honestly don’t know if I should be apologising or not

Phichit Chulanont @phichit_chu · 20m ago

Noooo! Definitely not lmao I WANT TO KNOW ALL THE SECRETS

-

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 10m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this banana bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/235g5y

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 10m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this cucumber bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/43qg5

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 10m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this aubergine bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/4gaf35

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 9m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this leek bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/98rga3

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 9m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this can of dry shampoo bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/257g23

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 9m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this chair leg bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/5gsgj1

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 8m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this table leg bigger than otabek’s dic? pls respond pic.twitter.com/43tg83

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 8m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this branch bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/6grg24

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 8m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this tree bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/7gr32t

Yurabek For Life @yurabek4life · 6m ago

Replying to @slicetheice

@yuriplisetsky is this dildo bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/24gw46

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 6m ago

u ruined it

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 6m ago

gtfo my thread

-

There’s a knock on the bedroom door and Mila enters, a glass of water in one hand and her phone in the other. Her hair is messy and she obviously didn’t get around to taking off her makeup last night, as her eyeliner and mascara is smudged around her eyes and what’s left of her foundation is decidedly patchy.

“Hey,” she says quietly, walking forward and placing the glass on the bedside table. “Thought you could probably do with a glass of water.”

“Thanks,” Yuri mumbles, reaching for the glass and taking a few small sips. Though his phone call with Otabek has now ended, they’re continuing to text as they both keep an eye on what’s happening on social media. Victor keeps texting him too, and Yakov keeps calling him, but Yuri is ignoring those. He doesn’t need a lecture right now.

Mila shuffles on her feet, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly, looking down at the carpet rather than at Yuri. “I never should’ve got you that drunk last night.”

“You do realise I don’t really give a shit, right?” Yuri replies. Mila’s head snaps up and she stares at him, brow furrowed.

“What?” she asks, confused.

“I don’t care, Mila,” Yuri says. “Maybe in a perfect world I wouldn’t have posted those tweets and sent the figure skating fandom into a meltdown, and maybe people at Google questioning wouldn’t be wondering why there’s been a sudden increase in people Googling what the average penis size in Kazakhstan is, but it’s not the end of the world. Otabek wasn’t best pleased at first but I think he’s getting over it now. If anything, it’s just given everyone another reason to be jealous of the fact that I’m dating him.”

Mila scoffs, a smile spreading across her face. “You’re something else, Plisetsky,” she says. “Are you going to tell me, then?”

“Tell you what?” Yuri asks, feigning ignorance as he continues to scroll through Twitter. He’s trending, but he’s not exactly sure how he’s supposed to feel about that given the circumstances.

“How big he is, of course!”

“Fuck no. Get out my room.”

“Technically speaking –”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

-

17 missed calls from Yakov

Yakov: What on earth is going on

Yakov: I hope you have a reasonable explanation for all of this

Yakov: I am concerned about that boy’s influence on you

Yakov: Please answer your phone calls

Yakov: Answer the phone when I call you!

Yakov: ANSWER THE PHONE!!

-

Otabek Altin retweeted

russian fairy @plsetsky · 5h ago

@yuriplisetsky is a size queen

Otabek Altin @otabekaltin · 1m ago

Replying to @plsetsky

Hell yes he is. ;) #yurisizequeen

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 30s ago

Replying to @plsetsky, @otabekaltin

#yurisizequeen CONFIRMED

-

Worldwide Trends · Change

#yurisizequeen

@yuriplisetsky and @otabekaltin are Tweeting about this

General Election

UK General Election ends in hung parliament

The King and The Skater III

@phichit_chu is Tweeting about this

#mysearchhistory

What’s the weirdest thing you’ve Googled?

Kazakhstan’s Hero

Otabek Altin is now being celebrated for entirely different reasons than the ones you’re thinking of

#thebigmeat

1,257 Tweets

-

Yuri Plisetsky

@yuriplisetsky

Gold medallist Russian figure skater. Otabek Altin’s boyfriend. Size queen.

St Petersburg

Joined March 2014

Born March 1

-

Phichit Chulanont @phichit_chu · 10m ago

@yuriplisetsky YOU UPDATED YOUR BIO AND I’M YELLING

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 10m ago

Replying to @phichit_chu

I was just showing who I am

Christophe Giacometti @c_giacometti · 8m ago

This whole thing is making my day #yurisizequeen @otabekaltin so how well does he take it?

Otabek Altin @otabekaltin · 8m ago

Now that would be telling ;)

Christophe Giacometti @c_giacometti · 7m ago

Is that code for “I’ve never had anyone take it so well before”?

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5m ago

Why must I be exposed in this way

Phichit Chulanont @phichit_chu · 4m ago

You exposed yourself

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 2m ago

…true

-

Yuri: I’m never drinking with you again.

Mila: Yeah, whatever you say

Mila: I will get you drunk again and get you to spill your secrets all over Twitter

Yuri: NEVER

Yuri: NOT HAPPENING

Mila: Sure, keep telling yourself that

Mila: So, you want to have a few drinks next Friday?

Yuri: …

Yuri: Fine. I’m in.

-

Yuri’s been back at his apartment for a few hours, doing nothing more than curling up on the couch and watching Netflix and contemplating if he can stomach food yet when the doorbell rings. He stares at the door for a few moments, confused, because he no one’s told him they’re coming around. Maybe he left something at Mila’s and she’s decided to drop it off when running errands or something. Sighing, he pauses Netflix, drags himself off the couch and shuffles to the door, his blanket wrapped round his shoulders like a cape.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Yuri demands when he opens the door and sees Otabek of all people standing there. “You decided to just hop on the next plane to St Petersburg or something?”

“Um, yeah,” Otabek mumbles, brushing a hand through his hair as a faint blush spreads across his cheeks. With his other hand, he holds up a bag from the local convenience store. “I also got food. Wanted to make sure you were actually going to eat something today.”

Through the thin white plastic of the bag, Yuri spots a familiar label. “You got me Pringles.” They’re one of his favourite foods that he’s not really supposed to eat when he’s training, but they’re also what he really wants right now.

Otabek grins. “I did.”

“Have I told you how much I love you recently?” Yuri asks, making a grab for the bag. Looking like a kid at Christmas, he takes the lid off the Pringles and tears at the paper/foil one, before taking several crisps out of the tube and putting them all into his mouth at once.

“Well, you’ve told the world about how much you love my dick, but apart from that, no, I don’t think so.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Yuri says through a mouthful of crisps, rolling his eyes. “Come on, get in here.”

-

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 13m ago

Look who flew all the way from Almaty just to be here! ♥♥ pic.twitter.com/36uhghefh5

Otabek Altin @otabekatlin · 12m ago

Replying to Yuri Plisetsky

It’s good to be back. ♥♥

Christophe Giacometti @c_giacometti · 10m ago

I bet it is ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 10m ago

Oh yes ;)

#otayuriwc #otayuri #hung otabek #yuri plisetsky #otabek altin #yuri on ice #fanfic #beka #yuri #yoi

[chloenoelxx]

Season 2 Klance and Shallura Analysis

Alrighty so this is another one of those voltron prediction/theory/rant its basically an analysis of some parts of season 2 not all bc that would take me forever but just a few key parts (aka the key to my heart Klance okay bye). So grab a drink because this is an essay folks that I spent way too much time on than I should have. Let’s begin shall(ura) we? (I hate myself)

So I’m gonna start with a very good and very platonic (in my opinion) relationship, which is K//allura. Okay okay, they have so much potential to be bffs its exciting.

First off, I took the whole Galra Keith and Allura tension as a message the creators wanted to convey to the viewers about judging someone merely by their race. Honestly I really love it when tv shows, especially kids shows, integrate bigger ideas like racism into their stories. Its subtle yet satisfying and I really really appreciated this particular scene with Keith and Allura.

Allura is describing her hatred for the Galra which is basically her hatred toward a part of Keith that he can’t even control. He never chose to be Galra, it’s just in his blood. And obviously that hurts him because its a part of who he is:((

Like ugh this is so sweet guys. So as you know from the title of this, I don’t ship K//allura at all, but this scene was very special to me in a much different way than how I feel from a romantic interaction. Like this is a genuine moment between two characters that are haunted by the same group, the Galra. Keith is part Galra, he has a part of the enemy inside of him which is probably causing inner turmoil maybe even self-hatred within him. And Allura as we know hates the Galra for killing her entire civilization. These two have a deep character development from this scene alone. We see that Allura has matured from being bitter toward Keith for being Galra to understanding that a person should not be judged by their blood but who they truly are. Also we see that Keith has accepted the fact that yes he may have a part of the enemy within him, but that does not mean he has to be anything like them. He is also pretty stand-off ish and doesn’t like opening up necessarily. He’d much rather keep to himself (other than Shiro), but he is finally opening up to someone else as well. He forgives Allura immediately despite how offensive her bias opinion was towards him. I just love Keith. 

So these two are super close now or should be? Which is pretty awesome considering… Keith is super close to Shiro too. SO now he’s close to both Shiro and Allura who are both, might I remind you all, much older than would be appropriate for him to have a romantic relationship with. Anywho, this reeks of space parents and an angsty teen.

Which then leads to Shallura and why I believe it is pointing toward canon woot woot love these goobers. Alright so I’m solely focusing on a few scenes in particular where my heart was pounding and my eyes watering and I was clutching my heart while screaming at my computer screen. The feels man the feels. 

I just about swooned at this. Like these underrated moments are what really get me. Like I love the whole Shiro taking Allura’s hand and telling his wife to get some rest, that got me feeling some sort of way. But this scene guys. In the heat of battle, Shiro is concerned for Allura. He’s basically saying “I wish I could be there to take care of her but Coran you have to do it for me.” I cannot guys I cannot.

She could’ve called for anyone else. Was it Keith? NOPE IT WAS SHIRO, PEOPLE!!

Never forget honestly. This is the face of a broken man. I have never seen Shiro more distressed and this pic doesn’t do it justice but when you watch this scene his eyes are glistening like he’s about to cry. The calm, collected leader Shiro is on the verge of tears? omg I can’t. 

Honestly this is my weakness. When a character gets hurt and another character goes ballistic and rages. Like Shiro is so determined to kick ass in this scene and avenge Allura. End me. 

For Shallura, they both have an understanding that they need each other. They are each other’s support especially considering they both are the leaders and are the older ones of the group. They help bear each other’s responsibility which is much different than Klance’s dynamic. For Klance it is much more playful and focused on chemistry. And also because they are younger it is much more naive and afraid. Both Keith and Lance obviously care for each other but they try not to show it especially when the other is present. They are self-conscious and afraid of what the other will think, that the other doesn’t feel the same way. Shiro and Allura, however, both know that they care for each other and they aren’t afraid to express it through calling each other’s name during battle and other small gestures like that.

Which I forgot to mention that everyone is freaking out over a simple hug between Allura and Keith but like have you noticed that both Klance and Shallura have not had a proper hug yet? Ummmm is this a slow burn fic or… Seriously tho, I’ve watched plenty of shows and animes (I’m shameless) to know that usually the canon couple does not have that special hugging and seal-the-deal scenes quite so early in the series because all the anticipation builds up until the perfect scene is created. I swear a tender Klance and Shallura moment is coming I swear. 

Which then leads to my mains, Klance. I just have to admit that one of the many reasons I love these two is because of the fact that Keith and Lance are like my fav characters of all time. And I can relate to both of them at the same time idk. Anyway, back to what’s important: evidence of canon.

So… Do I really need to show these? Like these scenes do not need further analysis it just reeks of dorks-in-love-who-don’t-know-they’re-in-love-with-each-other-and-who-don’t-know-that-the-other-is-in-love-with-them. Man I love Klance. 

So instead let’s over-analyze a few other scenes…

“Babe I thought you would have my back.”

“First you forget the bonding moment now this.”

Look this one is a stretch lol but just look at Keith’s face. When you watch this scene, Keith goes from his signature annoyed and irritated look to a betrayed and frustrated look. Maybe that’s just me, but aside from that, he doesn’t necessarily look pissed off, his face changes from his usual pissy look to something much different. Obviously what Lance says does calm him down enough not to yell back at him, but he also looks frustrated because no one understand him or his secret about his past with the Blade of Mamora and all that good junk at this point. I think it is especially bothering him that he can’t just upfront say what he is hiding, and instead he knows he is looking like a fool in front of them (and especially Lance). 

Body language is important. Keith turns around as not to face them, I think he is hurt because obviously this whole situation is important to him but not even Lance seems to understand him. And I seriously think Keith and Lance have like this weird mutual understanding usually. Like ya they fight I get that, but usually they kinda get what the other is trying to get at I feel, idk maybe thats just me. 

Let’s take a moment to appreciate how blue Lance’s eyes are in this… I love my son…

So like if you look closely at this scene you notice that when Lance is making eye contact with Keith, Keith has his typical “I hate you Lance but really I don’t but I’m gonna pretend like I do” face. But right when Lance looks away Keith actually looks sad and kinda hurt. Out of everyone, he hates that Lance is the one revealing his flaws, and even he knows its true. Lance stop insulting your husband. He’s actually sensitive about what you think of him:(((

Uhhh lowkey I think Keith is just as insecure as Lance is, but he just doesn’t show it… Oh the Klangst!

And another thing we get to see in Season 2 is that Lance is showing ALOT of concern of Keith’s wellbeing which is pretty big if you ask me because season 1 was basically Pining!Keith worried about his boyf. Now we get to see some worried Lance.

Honestly, like I mentioned before, the creators are going for a slow burn. And both Shallura and Klance definitely have their little hints and subtle moments that are very easily missed. But that’s the point. If it’s too obvious then the ending won’t be as powerful, the couples won’t be as special. Also, the development of both of these couples is going slow but very well thought out and I actually appreciate it a lot. I know for a fact K//allura won’t be canon because their interaction is too straight-up(lol) for it to be canon. It could be said as “predictable” but idk I just get a total brotp vibe from them nothing more, plus if they were hinting at canon for them, they wouldn’t have them hug so soon. Also their reactions and facial expressions toward the hugs and touches would be very different. It wasn’t tender like the Bonding Moment™ or the Shallura hand grab™. Facial expressions and reactions are key! Keith looked indifferent when Allura fell into his arms and their hug was sweet yes but it wasn’t hesitant and nervous like a couple who just discovered their feelings for one another would react. It was a hug between two people who recognize their bond. It was a strong bond yes, between two lovers? no I don’t think so. Allura, herself even confirmed how she now viewed the paladins as her family and it just felt to much like a familial bond I couldn’t see anything more to it. If Kallura was to be canon they would have more subtle moments than in-your-face big moments. Little details in the way Keith or Allura would look, or in the background they would be gazing at each other (*cough* like Keith does to Lance *cough*) It’s the little things that count, remember that.

The only ship I was concerned that would be canon was Sh//eith, because they have an obvious bond that is much different than everyone else. But ever since the “Shiro, you’re a bro to me” happened, it basically killed any chance of it happening. Which in my opinion is much better because Klance and Shallura have so much potential and their stories can expand and be written so well. As it is, the creators are doing a really good job at unraveling their stories slowly but just enough as to give the viewers hope which is the goal usually for tv shows. They try to make the shippers suffer sometimes *sigh*. 

Anywho, if you read up to this point thanks for listening to me rambling about space parents and space ranger partners lol! I loved season 2 because it revealed a lot about Keith not only through the obvious backstories and blade of mamora stuff but also through his interactions. And yes Keith is my fav lol. Anyways, I am 99.9% sure Klance and Shallura are gonna be canon but by no means am I saying you shouldn’t ship what you want. You do you, folks. Ship on and enjoy the show!

#klance #shallura #voltron #voltron legendary defenders #voltron predictions #voltron theory #voltron thoughts #voltron rant #vld #keith kogane #lance mcclain #takashi shirogane #allura #keith #lance #shiro #platonic ships #this was way too long #I am sorry #keith voltron #lance voltron #shiro voltron #allura voltron #voltron analysis

[soft-boy-stefan]

When In Rome [a Barry Allen/Sebastian Smythe smut]

Request(s): ‘What about the honeymoon???? 😉’ and ‘more poly smut please’

a/n: this is great. I live

WARNING: Smut (threesome)

“Hel-lo Rome!” Sebastian grins, hopping off of Barry to stand next to you, flicking his aviator sunglasses down. Giggling, you pick up your suitcase, light blue jean sleeveless shirt flowing at your pink short shorts. “What do you wanna do next, Y/N/N? B?” he asks, making a complete 360 to face you two, cream button down swaying against his toned chest.

Barry laughs, searching through his bag for the map. He knows he packed it… “You know, I think we should check into the hotel first, Seb.” you giggle, taking his hand in yours. “Then we can go explore… Right, Barr?” you smile at one of your husbands, standing on your tip toes, squeezing Sebastian’s hand. The former Warbler squints up at the sky, peering around the city, sandy blond locks flying back.

Quickly, the speedster snaps a photo of the two loves, grinning from ear to ear. This is so going to be his lock screen. “We’ll speed to the hotel and figure out what we’re doing, yeah?” he confirms, earning hums in agreement. “Okay, great. Who’s first?” he beams.

*TIME SKIP*

Sebastian lays on his back, propping himself up on his elbows, making indents in the king sized bed. “Baaaabes.... Your husband is waiting…” he pouts, leaning his head on his shoulder, strands of hair falling in his lime green orbs. You step out of the bathroom, completely naked, racing over and jumping on him. He gasps, falling backwards on the mattress. “Ah, there’s my beautiful wife!” he smirks, feeling you pop the buttons of his lightweight shirt as his hands fly to your waist. “Oh, husbaaaannd.... We’re starting…” he giggles, moving his hands to your ass.

In a flash, Barry hovers over the both of you, shaking his head, watching Sebastian flip you over, changing positions. You laugh, hooking your legs around his waist. “You love getting to call us that, don’t you?” Barry chuckles, removing the only piece of clothing off his boyf- husband. His husband and wife. A little squeal escapes him. “You’re my husband! And you’re my wife!” he laughs, “This is a dream!”

With a broad smile, you nod in response, bringing your hand up to your face. Yup, you still got a ring on your finger. “You know... this will be our first time having sex married…” you muse, watching matching smiles appear on their faces. “Okay, fuck me so we can go get food.” you deadpan, making your husbands chuckle.

Barry guides Sebastian into you, biting down on his bottom lip hard. A loud moan passes Sebastian’s lips when he enters you, hands grabbing your breasts. “I love hearing the both of you moan…” the speedster sighs, slowly entering his husband. Sebastian sucks in a breath, hair in his eyes; you run your hands down his abs, groaning. “Fuck, Bas… How are you so tight?” Barry grunts, rocking his hips. “We… I thought Y/N fucked you with the strap before the wedding day…”

The Warbler scoffs, thrusting into you at a steady pace, hissing when your nails dig into his pale toned chest. “She did.” he smirks, “I’m just t-ight because you’re bigger…” Sebastian mumbles, snapping his hips back and forth, creating a knot in your stomach.

“Ugh, Seb… I haven’t...had you in forever…” you pant, grinding your hips to his. Barry groans, hiding his short hair in between Sebastian’s shoulder blades. The college boy bucks his lower body, earning a gasp from you; he whimpers at the feeling of Barry’s dick vibrating inside of him. “You two...are gods…” you breathe, tugging at Sebastian’s hair.

Without warning, Barry cums in Sebastian. “Arg… Bas! Y/N/N!” he shouts, sweat dripping down his temples. Groaning, you squeeze your eyes shut as your orgasm hits you, breasts shaking. “B-Bas, you gotta cum, babe. Cum for Y/N.” Barry encourages, nipping at his husband’s ear,  voice barely above a whisper.

Whining, Sebastian gropes your boobs, thick eyebrows furrowed together. The cool metal ring makes you shudder. With one more thrust, the Warbler fills up the condom, curses echoing off the hotel walls. Breathing heavily, you slowly push his longish hair off his forehead, grinning. “Next time you’ll be in Barry.” you promise.

“Okay, I’m- I’m good with whatever…” Sebastian says in a hushed tone, pulling out of you. “Can we nap now? I need a nap after that…” he mumbles, flopping face first next to you, making you giggle.

Barry giggles too, laying on the other side of you. “I love my wife and husband…”

#sebastian smythe imagines #sebastian smythe #sebastian smythe imagine #sebastian smythe x reader #sebastian smythe smut #barry allen smut #barry allen x reader #Barry Allen #barry allen imagine #barry allen imagines #the flash smut #The Flash #the flash imagines #the flash imagine #glee #glee imagines #glee imagine #glee smut