James Potter: seventeen, hair got struck by lightning at age
four and hasn’t sat down since, knuckles that jut out, holds his wand between
his teeth to impress girls- to impress the
girl, doesn’t own one pair of matching socks, the kind of attractive that
fills the ribs, fills the shoulder blades, fills the heart, Sirius painted his
nails once and he kept the polish on all week, sees the girl before registering anyone else in the room, young organs
pumping young blood, wired to himself, to his boys, to the girl, can tell what you’re about to say before you say it, he’s
just sort of like that, has a habit of leaning arms on peoples shoulders, starts
the trust fall before anyone realises they’re meant to be catching him
Sirius Black: seventeen, eats whipped cream by the fork
full, rolls up the sleeves of his robes, begins most conversations with: you absolute fuck, column of his throat
running down the neck like water, leaves his text books all over school, made
of gut feeling, of instinct, of starting before you know how to finish, a part
of him still stuck in that house, with the door slamming, with his mother
yelling, with the world ending, he is
the bomb going off in the swimming pool, he has probably made a bomb go off in
the swimming pool, smoking just outside the door- look- you can see the smoke,
you can see the shaking hands.
Remus Lupin: seventeen, jumpy, long eyelashes, the sullen quiet of fog
in winter, scars up the arms, round the neck, across the chest, eyes that stare
as if they are waiting for permission, plays the same records until he’s mouthing
the words in his sleep, gives out flowers for gifts, sarcasm that could stop
the heart, soft, like the skin above your collar bone, like stained glass
windows with light through them, like seeing a star in a textbook, knowing
that something that good is out there
even if it is far away, often has wind billowing through his baggy t-shirts, pulls
out his bottom lip when thinking, at night wakes up sweating, dreaming of blood
in his mouth, the kind you get when you rip an arm off, when you lick the bone
Peter Pettigrew: seventeen, socks right to the knee, eating
an ice cream, has a sore neck from always looking up, raw fingernails- bitten
to the cuticles, full of fear, oozing fear, could fill cathedrals with this
fear, burns books for no reason, unmade bed, the flush of a cheek that is bloated,
a mound of blood, sits on the floor because there is no room at the table,
counts on his fingers, pulled a muscle when walking up the fourth staircase,
shuts his eyes, opens them, realises he is still in his own skin, pale, a stick
of white, unassuming, like flowers, or the moment the ground gives way, all at
once, as if it was going to all along
anyway, i realized that white people dont want to watch shows with majority black and brown cast and whenever white folk say they want diversity in media it’s an empty statement. they just want our colored asses to shut up.
Prompt: Soulmate AU where for your entire life you’ve only ever seen black and white, until you receive the first touch from your soulmate and color blooms before your very eyes. But, what would you do if you found out your soulmate was the one person your current boyfriend hates the most in this world?
Relationships: Stiles Stilinski x Reader/Theo Raeken x Reader/Stiles Stilinski x OFC/Theo Raeken x OFC
Warnings: Intimate Dancing, Kissing, Swearing, and Future Smut (I gotta build it up first y’all but smut is coming)
A/N: Y’all this was a long time coming. This series is so incredibly important to me, it took me months on end to write. This is without a doubt my favorite story I have written so far and has become my baby. Special thanks to @sarcasticallystilinski for reading it over and supporting me! I really hope you guys love this as much as I do.
P.s. All of the songs will be in Stiles’ POV and, Oh My God, I highly recommend you listen to them after every part to know what’s going on in his mind throughout the story.
Love, Soulmates and Colors are the three words I despise the most in this world. They ring in my ears like sharp nails scratching against a dry chalkboard and, yet, it seems to be all everyone ever talks about.
“When will I find my soulmate?”
“All I ever see is black and white, I hope one day I’ll meet her and see color.”
“Wait, what do you mean you’re only seeing blue?”
Everyone on this God forsaken planet can only see the dull shades of black and white. However, rumor has it, that that completely changes when you meet your soulmate - as if that bullshit actually exists. Apparently, the moment your skin touches theirs, your entire world becomes vibrant with color and life.
I don’t believe it for one second. Not because I’m bitter or anything, but because I’ve never actually met anyone who can see in color and, therefore, I don’t believe that possibility exists. What would a world full of color even look like? I’m so used to the reality of black and white that the idea of shades other than these two seem so foreign and impossible.
hi there! thanks a lot to anon who requested it. dear anon, you asked for reader having a mental breakdown but i just could’t write it this way so i changed a little bit, hope you like it anyway. btw requests are open!
i know not everyone likes ff about topics like this one but y’all should give it a try
and i just wanted everyone to know that if there’s anyone who wants to talk or feels lonely or both, PLEASE DM me.
warning: suicide attempt
[Y/N] wasn’t okay. And she was completely helpless about it. She’s been lying on her bed and staring at the ceiling for 3 hours now. She didn’t even feel sad, more like empty inside.
Before that empty feeling started to eat her up she wasn’t only sad. Anger was present too.
The thing is, she’s always been a sensitive girl. She could pretend the rude comments would’t harm her but inside she knew she was hurt. She was good at not showing that though, always has been. It was the only thing she truly liked about herself. If somebody asked her she always had the same prepared answer. She would play dumb and say ‘Oh, what do I like about myself? I don’t know! I think I like my hair and long eyelashes!’ and then giggle, like a stupid school girl. It always worked, people were strangely satisfied with that answer, she never understood why and how.
[Y/N] jumped at the sound of her telephone’s ringing. It was probably her best friend Jerome. [Y/N] felt bad for not talking to him. [Y/N] wasn’t aware but the Ginger had some strong feelings for her. He would sometimes show it by little actions but [Y/N] was too blind to see it.
But really though, let’s be fucking realistic. She’s been planning to end her life for a few months now. She may be feeling bad now but when she’s dead she can’t feel bad. Jerome would find a girl good enough for him sooner or later and leave her like all of her friends did. She could’t blame them, she would avoid herself as much as she could, too. There was the only way to do it.
Finally, she picked up the phone.
“Hello?” It was Jerome!
[Y/N] was kind of hoping she was right and that would be him, she wanted to say goodbye. Hear his voice one last time.
“Hiya Baby Cakes! Don’t cha been quiet with me lately? Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go wit–”
“I’m so sorry Jerome!” She cut him off with a loud sob which caught him off guard.
“Doll? Wha-what’s going on?” He sounded really concerned.
Jerome almost fell off the stairs he was standing on as he heard [Y/N]’s sobs getting louder. She just could’t stop herself! He was going to ask her to go with him on a romantic killing spree, it was supposed to be a great time for both of them, kinda like a date, and then he’d brought her to a nice quiet place to talk. He wanted to confess his feelings. He felt like she really deserved to know them.
The stairs he was standing on were a fire escape from a building near hers. He wanted to knock on her door as fast as he could if she accepted his offer.
“I’m being honest. I’ve never been more honest in my life. I really am sorry. I just can’t do this anymore. Thank you for everything. You took a good care of me, and none of this is your fault. I… I love you, Jerome, I really do. Have a nice life you deserve. Goodbye forever.” When those words left her mouth, she immediately hung up.
She could’t believe it. She confessed her love for him! She knew he would never feel the same way and she wanted to end this pain fast.
[Y/N] sprinted towards her bathroom grabbing a razor blade on her way. A picture of Jerome was on the table. She took it too. She wanted his face to be the last thing she’s going to see.
After 3 minutes her bath was already filled with hot water. Enough for her to go in. She kept her clothes on.
[Y/N]’s head was the only thing that sticked out from water. Picture of handsome looking Jerome drifted as she stared at it. She remembered the day she took it. Jerome took her to the zoo. One of the nicest day of her life.
Now as she thought about it she didn’t want to kill herself anymore.
Too bad she already cut her veins.
Now it was only a matter of time.
‘Hey, at least the song I like is on’
The walls were thin and she could hear her neighbour’s radio playing her favourite song.
And then she heard screaming outside her apartment. Her door burst wide open.
‘’[Y/N]!” It was Jerome. Her Jerome.
And then everything went black.
[Y/N] found herself slowly waking up in a very white room. Her eyes squeezed shut for a second, it was so bright there. Looked like some sort of hospital.
She felt somebody holding her right hand gently. It was Jerome. What a relief she felt. She was alive. With Jerome by her side.
He was asleep. He looked like an angel to her. That one piece of hair resting on his forehead.
She held his hand tighter, he felt it because he started to wake up. He looked so cute and innocent, she would gaze at him her whole life if she only could.
His eyes finally met hers.
“Don’t ever do this to me again. I mean it, Sweet Cheeks.” It was one of those rare moments when he was being very serious.
[Y/N] was so glad he was calm. She knew they’re going to talk about it later when she feels better.
“I’m sorry, J. I love you.”
Her Puddin’ could only chuckle at her funny expression.
“I love you too, Baby Cakes. Now let’s go. I’m taking you home.”
"It doesn't make sense to have people of color in this story-"
It doesn’t make sense for every story to have allll white people either but I didn’t see you bitching about historical accuracy in any medium including ROMANS who had BLACK EMPERORS AND BLACK GENERALS AND BLACK GUARDS.
Nor did I see you complaining with all white Vikings even though those guys GOT AROUND.
Or any of the times Egyptians are portrayed as a group of lily white caucasians without any skin tone variation whatsoever in the middle of the fucking desert.
About people of color “not making sense” in a historical drama or whatever.
We’ve existed as long as you, asshole.
You trying to whine away people of color shouldn’t be called “historical accuracy.”
It should be called “I don’t think people of color look enough like me to be a huge part of my people’s history.”
okay, so I just watched the Death Note movie and damn that shit was
so im just going to compile some small notes about how bad and how much they fucked Death Note like fuck man
Please Note: there are going to be elements of spoilers in this list so if you are planning on watching Death Note (2017) be aware (but in all honesty please dont watch it just watch the 2006 Anime Adaptation I beg you, I am doing you a solid)
ok so first off, this shit is americanised so of course there is a buttload of whitewashing because if you didnt know Death Note is Japanese and set in Japan and the characters are Japanese - please.
Light Yagami is a good boy™ so like how dare you make this shitty bad boy - hes doing other peoples homework please no
the Death Note lands right next to him - um no the Death Note lands 10 feet away from Yagami and outside his classroom stop this
also it starts raining right after he picks up the Death Note - spoooky
white!light finds some bullys who are obviously over school age and so he pulls the child abuse card on them if they were to hit him - he gets decked anyway.
he gets caught with the homework and put into detention and oh no the light went out - creepy factor™ to the max - so spooked
oh yeah, did i mention that this film is rated an 18
so of course theres been swearing and cursing from everyone, even Light - sorry not my Light
best part of the film was white!light shitting himself when he see Ryuk like yes 10/10 A++ content would watch that scene again
white!light also slaps himself and i wanted him to do it more
theres more swearing, i mean i had to settle in for a wild ride with fucks and shits throughout this whole film, but like the anime was only a 15
also Willem Dafoe as Ryuks voice was pretty cool, had a nice ring to it but anyway
he goes to kill older bully because Ryuk says he wants to (obviously hes hesitant) but cant
legit words from the film “i dont have a pen” Ryuk pulls out a pen “well its good you have one” im yeLLING
he writes older bully guys name down but oh no, Ryuk tells him to write down how so guess what
HE CHOOSES DECAPITATION IM SERIOUS YALL THIS IS HIS FIRST KILL NO HESITATION JUST WRITES DOWN DECAPITATION LIKE WHO FUCKEN WROTE THIS
FUCKEN GORE TO THE MAX YOU SEE THIS GUYS HEAD BE FUCKEN RIPPED FROM HIS BODY BY A TRAGIC ACCIDENT LIKE FUCK
by this point i was already like #NotMyDeathNote i mean
dad is introduced, but where is mother and sister - ill tell you where - non existant (mum is dead and there was never any sister)
MORE SWEARING >:(
theres still apples tho and Ryuk still loves them
white!light reads the Death Note rules (well he actually skims them but okay)
comes across some scribble and sees a not “dont trust Ryuk”
HE PRONOUNCES IT RYE-UK NO LIE IM LIKE HOW THE FUCK DARE YOU NO ITS RYUK PRONOUNCED REE-UK FUCK YOU
its okay tho because Ryuk comes out and shuts him down with the correct pronunciation like yas bitch you tell him
ALSO LET ME LOOK AT MY MAIN MAN STOP PUTTING HIM IN THE DARKNESS LET ME SEE HIS FACE NOT JUST HIS EYES
Ryuk suggests shark attacks on the toilet as a not possible example of death - Ryuk i thought you were better than this
angry scribbling of names - damn white!light is mad
AND ANOTHER THING WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE HEART ATTACKS LIKE HE JUST KEPT SPECIFYING THE DEATHS - NO THIS IS NOT HOW IT WORKS YOU DONT NEED TO JUST KEEP WRITING THESE SHITTY DEATHS
you get one look at Ryuk and damn, my man you ugly im sorry they did you like that
okay back at school, watching the team practice and guess what
HES GOT THE DEATH NOTE AND HES READING IT IN THE OPEN IN PUBLIC - BITCH PUT IT THE FUCK AWAY
OH BUT WAIT A GIRL SEES HIM - SHE NOTICES IT AND IS LIKE “oo Death Note whats that” AND HES LIKE “nah its nothing™”
BUT IT GETS BETTER
HE TELLS HER ABOUT IT AND LETS HER READ IT AND SHOWS HER HOW IT WORKS LIKE WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON - MY LIGHT WOULD NEVER DO THIS
I DONT EVEN KNOW WHO THIS CHICK IS BUT APPARENTLY HE DOES AND SHE KNOWS HIM SO IM LIKE WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS SO WRONG - WHO IS SHE?!?!?!
so new girl who im sure is supposed to be Misa Misa says to white!light “lets change the world together” and so these words obviously go straight to white!lights dick because theres sexual tension in the air
“can i kiss you?” “youre not suppose to ask”
she just fucken pins him to the wall shes making him her bitch and theyre kissing ugh my eyes hurt
cut back to school and they in class and they looking at each other like they fucked
then theres more kissing like fucking straight white movie romances am i right
theyre finding a name for the God who will rule the new world
of course its Kira like what else is it going to be
“Kira means light in celtic” and then quickly “also its similar to the word killer in Japanese” like damn bitch i wonder why you quickly said that - oh yeah because Death Note is actUALLY JAPANESE
im so fucjing done with this film
but now the death victims are leaving perfectly written Japanese messages on the walls like this doesnt mAKE UP FOR YOUR SHITTY WHITEWASHING
news time: white boy feels special for getting lots of praise and attention for killing bad guys
were suddenly in Japan in a night/strip club
hooded guy is introduced - hes speaks Japanese - finally we are saved by the Japanese guy who I assume is L
nope L is not Japanese just speaks it just like in the anime
white!light is suddenly angry as detective dad for getting on the Kira case like damn what is your damage
Watari is here but he is not cute and kind looking like in the anime, i am disappointed
white!lights dad talks to L on the laptop - but wheres the garbled voice???????
L is introdu–
L IS BLACK, I REPEAT L IS BLACK - ARREST THAT WHITE BOY BECOME POWERFUL WE ARE SAVED
“rest your glutes” - true words from L. a real line in a real fim
movie!L is just as good and cute as anime!L
nope wait, he actually appears in public himself instead of a decoy - im sorry but i cant have this - not my L
he might have had his face covered and hooded but still - not my L
WHITE!LIGHT IS RUDE - HE TALKS TO RYUK LIKE SHIT - TELLS HIM TO SHUT THE FUCK UP HOW DARE YOU I WOULD HAVE KILLED HIM FOR THAT ALONE
finally found out Misa Misa replacements name
some cops walked off a building
i kind of stopped taking as many notes by this point i was just not paying attention
“if you fuck this were not the good guys anymore” - what part of killing people, be they bad or not, makes you the good guys? NONE
L and Light meeting in a cafe
L becomes a cat and pushes shit off the table
“youre the one who flew into the sun, im just the one to make sure you actually burn” - yooOOOOOOO L rekt u
white!lights dad dares to be killed - Mia thinks about doing it but white!light stops her - she gets dumped
she begs for him back
she pulls out the i love you card
it works because of course it would and theyre kissing again - like fuck no bitch you tried to kill my dad get the fuck out
Watari is targeted, his name is written in the book - LEAVE HIM ALONE
apparently people can be spared by burning the page with their name on it, what kind of bullshit
L is angry, he is so smad
L GETS PINNED AGGRESSIVELY TO A TABLE UNHAND HIM YOU HEATHENS
but another fault that L doesnt really get mad, hes actually a cool cucumber im sorry not my L
homecoming dance - really
Mia gives white!light his outfit for it and also a hat with a note saying “i have it”
have what idk
Ls old kids home is creepy™
white!light is wEARING A TOPHAT TO THE HOMECOMING DANCE WHA THE FUCK
it was a decoy trick wow
oh no Wataris page is missing it cant be burned now, WATARI IS GOING TO DIE
Watari dies before he can give white!light Ls real name HA
Take my Breath Away by Berlin plays at the dance - beautiful
oh damn Mia actally outsmarts and FCUKS white!light - she wrote his name in the Death Note
nope wait shes going to burn the page to bring him back fucking
she still fucked him over tho
L is still smad, but now hes got a gun and hes stolen a cop car
theres a mangled L theme going on i swear
smashes through a “drive slow, drive safe” sign - good one L
L finds white!light and chases him on foot
L IS RUNNING I REPEAT L IS RUNNING
L IS DOWN AND OUT COLD IM
now white!light has the gun
news flash: white boy is having regrets but white girl is living it
OH DAMN HE FUCKED HER OVER BACK IM YELLING
theyre on a ferris wheel and then it collapses spontaneously
oh no white boy is having major regret about everything what a shame
bye Mia, bye white!light
oop Mia is dead
L is okay
white!light is in the water
some random sees the washed up Death Note and picks it up
white!light is in hospital - the random returns the Death Note to him
memories of dead girlfriend™
father just now realised that his son is Kira
WHITE BOY SET THE WHOLE FUCKING THING UP - HE TELLS HIS DAD EVERYTHING LIKE FUCK HE MIGHT BE WHITE BUT HE FUCKING SMART
L is still smad but now he had good hard evidence and proof of Kira
Ryuk is laughing and says that humans are interesting
and then get this
IT FUCING ENDS
WHITE!LIGHT LIVES HE FUCKING LIVES AND LIKE IM JUST LIKE THIS IS NOT RIGHT WHAT THE FUCK NO PUT IT RIGHT FUCKING KILL HIM YOU COWARDS AND LET L LIVE
but its okay because there are “funny bloopers” in the end credits
more mangled L theme
im now watching the original 2006 anime and all is well
Yamada Shiro’s Illustration for Ikemen Sengoku 2 years anniversary
Yukimura “Oy, Sasuke. Is it fine like this?
Sasuke “Perfect. Ah, Mitsunari-san, your fingers is making the wrong shape”
Mitsunari “Pea~ce! Hmm, it’s quite difficult…”
Nobunaga “Sasuke, this ‘camera’ thing, give it to me later”
Kenshin “You guys, shut up with your complaints (I need to make sure my Himetsuru Ichimonji(his sword’s name) got pictured beautifully…)
Mitsuhide "Your hair is messy, Ieyasu. I’ll fix it for you”
Ieyasu “Please stop it”
Kennyo “He seems unwilling, just don’t do it”
Hideyoshi “Don’t go there, you won’t get in the picture, you know”
Masamune “Don’t mind them, so take it already (now is the best angle)”
Shingen “Princess, take my picture handsomely, okay? It’s fine if the other guys don’t get to be in it”
I just realized I have a new dislike of T*ylor Sw*ft because she now reminds me of this white girl in middle school who lied on me to teachers and accused me of being the big, tall, mean Blackie that wanted to fight her for her “boyfriend” when I had maybe TWO conversations with her tops.
I mean, I’ve always disliked T*ylor because I thought her music was bad and because I thought she was overhyped mediocrity and played stupid but now? She reminds me of how white women will literally lie on Black folks and manipulate public opinion to victimize themselves. History has proved that Black people, especially Black men, have BEEN KILLED because of the untruths and victim complexes of white women.
So now I see her and have all that rattling around in my brain…on top of hating her music lol
you, a p*nsmione fic writer:
"the first time hermione worked with pansy she found her insufferable uwu"
me, an intellectual:
pansy called her a mudblood which is a literal racial slur, if you read the metaphor correctly. thats not 'insufferable', thats oppressive. on top of which you're writing a black hermione, and in fact pansy canonically made antiblack comments for example when she said angelina's braid looked like worms, something that happens in real life every day to black women by racist white women. thats not 'insufferable' thats racist. please don't ship racists with people of color i cannot believe i have to tell you this. what the fuck the fuck
So you don’t want to kill the Outsider. That’s great. Nobody does.
But shitting on Billie Lurk as a character is fucking gross and uncalled for.
The Outsider is an awesome character but I am so fucking keenly aware of the number of you who mainly like him for all the shallow “attractive white male character” reasons and don’t understand him OR the narrative.
Billie is a *great* character, and if that’s lost on you because she’s not pretty, male, or white enough, please shut the fuck up forever
A/N: Hey @stucked82 I’ve seen our comment and guess what! You got yourself a fic, my dear! Hope you like it?
Request: Maybe a Pietro x plus size. the reader can’t believe Pietro liker her because of her body and because he’s so flirty with all women and she doesn’t think she deserves a hunk like him???
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings: Swearing. Bad humour.
So it was just another one of those days - you and Pietro Maximoff, just two very good friends out for the day. It wasn’t long before the craving for caffeine got the best of you both and you decided to stop for a brew. You should have know better, really.
Tony throws a 1940s themed party, which Steve does not handle it well. His girlfriend is thankfully there to calm his insecurities.
Tony Stark had a talent for throwing grand parties for no reason, and tonight was the perfect night for one. Tony decided to make it a 1940s theme, ignoring protests from Steve and Bucky. This naturally ensued an argument and Steve agreeing just to shut Tony up after his constant threats and child like hissy fits.
Steve looked out at the city as he tied his black tie, trying to escape bad memories and the insecurities he felt before the serum. A soft knock got the attention of the captain, trying to distract himself. He turned around and saw his girlfriend standing in the doorway. “What do you think? I looked at photos for hours,” she laughed twirling in her velvet black top, with deep v cuts in the front and back, and a white tulle bottom. Steve smiled softly and walked up to her.
Title: Teach Me, Baby
Pairing: Connor Murphy x Reader
Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen
Summary: You’re tutoring Connor Murphy (your friend? Your neighbor? You have no idea who you are to him) at the request of his mother. While working on your Spanish homework, Connor asks if you wouldn’t mind teaching him something else with his lips :)
Warnings: Connor has a potty mouth | first person reader
A/N: This is my first time writing a DEH drabble. I didnt proof read. I’m taking requests ♡
“You ever think about what it’s like?”
His voice startles me from where I’m scribbling in Spanish on my notebook–Connor had been surprisingly productive up to this point. On most nights when I walked over to his house to work on homework, Connor was sprawled on the bed or the floor or the couch and complaining endlessly until I practically did the assignment for him.
Being his tutor was easier than being a friend, after all. But today, Connor had been oddly silent, asking soft questions every so often under his breath about reflexive endings and vowel additions. He ignored his mother as she passed by the open door every so often, smiling in fondly at what must be a very stock photo scene, declining with a ‘no thanks’ when she asked if they needed anything after looking at me expectantly.
We’re both cross-legged on the blue frayed quilt pressed neatly on his bed, the notes splayed messing between us. The door had been shut in frustration after Cynthia’s third check in, giving Connor enough pause to lean in hyperbole against the door, giving an over exaggerated sigh, pulling on his hoodie and tucking a stray strand of hair back into the bun on the top of his head.
He isn’t looking at me when he asks the question, he’s staring down at his workbook intently. From where I’m sitting, I can see his lips are pursed tightly, cheeks puckered from the effort, as if he wished he hadn’t said the words. I might’ve laughed given any other situation, at the cost of earning an outburst, but he’d been so quiet today I was worried my chuckle might make him feel…well, might put him in a place I didn’t want him to be in.
“What what is like?” I asked absently, making sure to seem nonchalant. I didn’t want to scare him away. Connor having a serious conversation about anything was such a rare occurrence I was terrified I’d discourage him from doing it in the future.
There was a beat of silence, then two, and I’d long since decided he wouldn’t answer at all when he blurts out: “kissing.”
I didn’t look up. My pencil, however, flew out of my hands across the bed, eyes wide where they were glued on my notebook which looked like nothing but white and black tv static at that point.
“Haven’t you kissed anyone before?” I asked, voice thick and terrified. I half prayed Cynthia would check up on us again, stop the conversation in its tracks. The other half was so terrified Connor would fly up from the bed and scream at me to get out and never come back–and I didn’t want that. I wasn’t so sure I was comfortable with this topic of conversation at all.
“Shut up,” he hissed, but it was half-hearted, so I knew he wasn’t upset. Curiosity always won out with Connor Murphy. “No, haven’t exactly had anyone wanting to take me up on offers.”
“I didn’t know you offered,” I joked, daring a smile out of the corner of my eye. He was watching me, I realized, half emboldened by my sudden shyness, but his gaze was soft, the smirk at his mouth playful. He wasn’t making a move, I realized with relief. He was just asking.
“I don’t, really, I guess,” he sighed, pushing the papers out of his lap and into the bag at the foot of the bed.
“Connor–” I scolded. We still had a whole other assignment to do.
“You ever kissed anybody?” He asked so suddenly, his head jerking up to state at me boldly. His stony eyes were wide, almost nervous, and I watched his adam’s apple dip in the thin column of his throat.
“I, uh, no,” I sputtered, uncomfortably.
His dark eyebrows lowered, mouth folding into a thin line. “Why not?”
I shrugged. “Never, uh, found a guy I liked, I guess.”
He quirked an eyebrow, so I elaborated: “You really gotta trust a guy, you know? Because if it’s with a stranger then it means something and it’s weird, but if you already know the person it’s like ‘oh, cool, bye, whatever–’.”
“You’re doing the Evan Hansen ramble,” he said with a wicked smirk on his pretty pink lips. I game a small smile back.
“Boys are weird,” I grumbled, focusing back on my Spanish, suddenly none of it making sense. I didn’t like the way my hair fell on my neck, making me too hot and my shirt suddenly felt too heavy and itchy.
“Stop asking me weird shit,” I grumbled, folding in on myself around my notebook, shoulders hunched and knees high. Connor laughed–loudly, out of character, readjusting on the bed so that he actually faced me, the torn knees of his black skinny jeans brushing mine.
“’S not weird shit, dumbass,” he said congenially, tapping my leg lovingly with his pencil, before throwing it into his bag. “Aren’t teenagers supposed to be curious?”
“Porn exists,” I reminded him cheekily, watching as his pale face flared red.
“Not the same!” He sputtered, rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck. “It’s not–”
“You would know,” I snorted, flopping back, slightly flustered, against his pillows to hide my reddened cheeks.
“Shut up,” he growled. “And scoot over.”
I did as I was told, shuffling to the side and rolling onto my hip to give Connor room to slide up next to me, laying down and glaring at me.
“You’ve never thought about what it feels like?” He asked skeptically, eyebrows raised just slightly. I watched his hands to avoid his intense eye contact, the long thin fingers picking at a frayed quilt square between us.
“Course I have,” I muttered. “We were all fourteen once.”
“And you’re all grown up now, huh?” He teased, kicking me with his sock-clad foot. “You don’t think about boys anymore, huh? I don’t buy it. Don’t think Zoe hasn’t told me about the novels you stuff in your pillow case when you spend the night.”
“Traitor,” I hissed under my breath, feeling my whole face grow red.
Connor was still grinning widely, and it was such a rare sight that I took the moment to trace the crest of the apples of his cheeks, the deep lines around his smile, the cracks in his pink lips where the skin stretched just a bit too far.
“What about that Jake kid?” He asked suddenly, nudging me with his knee.
“The kid that’s on the debate team? Really fucking obnoxious, always staring at your boobs, has the hair?”
“Josh,” I snorted, stilling laughing at Connor referring to anyone but himself as the guy that 'has the hair.’ “He’s cute, I guess. He just seems kinda skeezy. Like he’d take you to prom to feel you up and then dump you, ya know?”
Connor frowned, eyebrows furrowed and eyes unfocused with their gaze somewhere in the vicinity of my clavicle.
“You don’t like him?”
“Christ, no. I’m too busy to deal with boys, Con, end of story.”
“You wouldn’t even do like, uh, casual shit?”
“No,” I hissed, immediately becoming uncomfortable. “Connor, what’s this about?”
“I don’t know how to kiss a girl,” he sputtered, face red, covering it with his lithe fingers. His black finger nails left crescent shaped indents just above his eyebrows as I reached up to circle his wrists with my fingers, dragging them away.
“I’m asking you, as a friend,” he muttered, laying beneath me. He still wouldn’t meet my gaze, chewing on his lip thoughtfully, before eventually closing his eyes. His hair was fanned out against the baby blue pillow, the soft curls enticing and beautiful.
Connor, who was all angles and edges and frown lines, laying still beneath me, eyes closed serenely, pink lips slightly parted. I eased my hand onto his chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing accompanied by his heart jackhammering in his chest.
It was stupid, and I shouldn’t. I trusted Connor, to an extent. Part of me was worried he thought he could woo me like this–take advantage. He was still a man, after all.
The other half of me was worried. If I rejected him now or later on, he wouldn’t be okay and I wouldn’t be there to help him put himself back together once he fell apart. I wanted to half make sure he wouldn’t fall for me.
I reminded myself that Connor would probably never, ever be into me.
Connor rarely lied. He was blunt. Candid. It was admirable, if it wasn’t always so rude.
I rolled over in the bed just a little more, slotting my knee in between his, brushing my hair back from where it fell in front of my eyes.
“This okay?” I mumbled, shifting closer, using the hand that wasn’t propping me up to scratch soothingly at his chest, the thick cotton of the hoodie soft against my fingertips.
He nodded, eyes still closed. I couldn’t bite back the chuckle bubbling in my throat.
“What’s so fucking funny?” He hissed, beginning to sit up, but I pressed him back down with my hand.
“You’ll kiss me back, right?” I laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. His eyes softened immediately, reaching up to take my hand, surprising me as he intertwined our fingers. Our hands were sweaty. “You’re just laying there like sleeping beauty. I feel like I’m stealing your virtue.”
“You’re funny, kid,” he grumbled, but nonetheless grinned where his lithe hands reached up to take my shoulders in his hands, pulling me back down to the mattress with him.
“You can say no,” he whispered against my ear, surprising me by pressing a kiss to my jaw. “I won’t be, uh, upset or anything.”
“I wanna,” I sighed, feeling him shiver beneath me, bring his knees up to frame my hips.
His hands surprised me as they snaked up my back at lightning speeds, taking my jaw none too gently and tipping it back, forcing me to finally look at him. His expression, unguarded and raw, knocked my breath out of my lungs. I wasn’t used to this Connor. I didn’t know this Connor.
I liked this Connor.
He was rough, yanking me too forcefully up to his lips, his fingers knotting violently into my hair and tugging before slamming his mouth into mine, his nose digging into the apple of my cheek.
He was all teeth, knashing and pressing much too hard, and I tried and nearly failed at smothering a giggle. It wasn’t bad, though it wasn’t necessarily good, it was just too…Connor. Too much of him to take this seriously.
Still, he commanded my presence again by groaning hard into my mouth, snaking a hand down and pressing hard against the small of my back. I tried to mutter 'baby, slow down, slow down’ but it was muffled by his overzealous kissing. He didn’t show any signs of noticing.
By the time he’d finished, I’d wrestled my expression into one of neutral positivity–I would probably be chortling like an idiot all night.
Connor was breathless, his pink lips now red rimmed and swollen from the abuse, a little wet. His eyes were bright, excited as he mumbled a, “Well? Was it good?”
I smiled sweetly, raking a hand through his now tangled hair, leaning down to peck at his lips softly.
“Okay, for a first try,” I conceded with a smile. “Little rough. Not bad.”
His eyes furrowed, lips moving into a frown. “Oh,” was all he said, moving to sit up, pushing me back off his lap. I rolled my eyes.
“It’s nothing a little practice couldn’t fix,” I mumbled, teasing, tracing over the fabric of his jeans. His eyes snapped up.
I nodded, leaning back onto my elbows before falling down at the foot of the bed, my hair fanned around me. “Do your worst.”