#...I can't even remember when I started writing it but it must have been either wednesday night or friday morning

[portalhan]

⠀ꔫ˚　༝　◌ ⌒⌒ three strikes !

↳ jeongin swears on his life that he's seen something odd between you and felix... exactly three times, in fact, but he needs more concrete proof...

PAIRING: felix lee x gn!reader

FORMAT: one shot

GENRE: college au, friends to lovers, fluff, jeongin third wheeling...

WARNINGS: brief mentions of food and being sick (just the flu bug nothing huge)

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

FAE'S NOTES: this is just a little bit half-assed... idk if i have much faith in this and i believe i can do better than this but i'm gonna post it anyway for you guys! please let me know if you have any feedback, my writing muscles have basically atrophied and i need to find my rhythm again TT

jeongin doesn't usually second-guess his closest friends like this, but something has changed. he knows you and felix well enough to know at least that.

you have always been hard to read. you're an independent, reliable sort of person, not outwardly emotional nor needlessly arrogant either—you tend to show your love for your friends through small, quiet gestures. felix, on the other hand, is someone who wears his heart on his sleeve—almost to a fault. always baking extra brownies to gift people, always going the extra mile, always looking on the bright side, even in the darkest of situations. he is as fragile as he is affectionate.

yes, affectionate. that's the word he's been looking for to describe the changes in your friendship with felix. you've been more affectionate. jeongin has always chalked it up to felix's own proclivities rubbing off on you given the sheer amount of time you spend together, but now... he's not so sure it's that simple. there have been three strikes jeongin has kept score of so far.

STRIKE #1

jeongin remembers it was a tuesday, because that's the only day of the week where all three of you shared classes. you would always sit in a row near the back of the class. he has made it a point to memorise both yours and felix's timetables this semester—as do the both of you with him—so he knows you don't usually have prior arrangements before coming to campus. you've always had a tradition of meeting in the lobby before walking to class together as a result.

so, when his phone pings with a message from you saying 'sorry innie, we're gonna be a bit late! pls go to class first, just save us seats', he is immediately struck with confusion. what did you mean, "we"? felix, uncharacteristically, hasn't said a word and it's already 5 minutes shy from when class starts. he always arrives at least 10 minutes before. how strange, jeongin thinks to himself as he trudges up the stairs to class, incredibly unfamiliar with the circumstance of having to do so on his own for the first time. he just brushes the nagging suspicion off, telling himself it was probably because of some public transport situation that's delayed you both—not something entirely uncommon.

it's about 15 minutes into the class before he sees you. the second he spots felix and you stumbling through the doors, profusely apologising to the professor for your tardiness, though, is when the same sensation of suspicion comes back. as you and felix shuffle to make their way to the seats jeongin saved for you, he can't help but notice your attire. you're wearing an oversized black shirt with some graphic of an anime printed on. jeongin's eyes squint as he stares at it, assuming it must have been a new purchase of yours. but he swears he's seen it before.

when you and felix take your seats and the professors picks up where she left off, felix turns to jeongin and apologises for being late. "we're really sorry jeongin, we owe you one," he quips, before he fishes his laptop out of his bag. the younger boy just shrugs it off as no big deal. plus, he had something else on his mind to worry about than harp on the two of you being late to class.

the dots quickly connect a few moments later in jeongin's head. felix has a shirt just like the one you're wearing. he swears he's seen him wearing it before, just last week when the three of you had gone out for dinner. it's been a shirt of his for years now, so worn down by so many uses that it has bleach stains on the sleeves, despite how much care felix puts into his clothing.

jeongin leans back in his chair and slowly, subtly pushes it back. he steals a glance at your side profile, thankfully without either you or felix noticing. there they were: bleach stains on the sleeves. upon further inspection, the shirt you were wearing looks way too worn out to be a new shirt—he concludes it must be felix's. but why would you wear felix's dank shirt to begin with? it would be weird to ask if that's his shirt you were wearing, so he decides to keep his silence for now.

STRIKE #2

this time, it was jeongin's turn to be late. the three of you had planned a picnic to celebrate the end of the gruelling semester—an idea felix suggested. he wanted it to be a potluck, so the each of you planned to bring something of your own making along.

jeongin wanted to go all out with his: he wanted to bake cupcakes, something felix had recently taught him how to. he wanted to show you his latest endeavours, baked fresh, but he didn't expect it to go sideways so last minute. he ended up showing up almost half an hour late, hair sticking to his forehead from all the sweat and cupcake frosting smeared all over the tupperware he placed them in out of haste.

when he finally spots the two of you amid the grass field at the park, he notices something... odd. he stops in his tracks to catch his breath and squints his eyes to get a better look. if he didn't know any better, he'd have thought you two were... holding hands? the sun was glaring directly in his face, obscuring his vision, so jeongin couldn't be 100% sure. but what he does know is that your figures were so close to each other they were practically shoulder-to-shoulder. this isn't exactly beyond felix, who is notorious for his habits of physical affection. but it is most certainly out of character for you, as someone who prefers to keep most people at an arm's length.

jeongin shrugs it off. he guesses felix nor he would be considered "most people". perhaps it was a trick of the light. he also doesn't have good enough reason to find it entirely strange—perhaps felix had gotten through to you in that regard. he had bigger things to worry about: your dinner getting cold.

STRIKE #3

the legitimacy of the third time is still up for debate, jeongin surmises. this time it wasn't your behaviour around each other, instead more so about how felix in particular reacted.

this happened over summer break. he remembers the sun being more unrelenting than ever—40 degrees celsius to be exact, he saw on the news—so you three had just decided to hang out in your bedroom, where the air conditioning is the coolest and crispiest (according to you). jeongin vividly recalls you lying on your stomach atop your bed, while the two boys were sprawled on the floor. that is, the carpet that laid over the spot where they would usually sprawl on the floor.

it was one of those 'parallel play' days, as you liked to call them. not necessarily doing things together, but doing separate things in the presence of each other, you said one time. felix was busy on his switch playing some pokemon game, you were scrolling on your phone and jeongin was just seconds away from drifting off to sleep on felix's lap.

it's been silent for, what, almost two hours now? but you end up breaking it first. "woah," you suddenly exclaimed, brows furrowing as you read something on your screen. "do you guys remember seungmin? from calculus?"

jeongin does not move an inch aside from nodding his head, and felix just lets out a little "yeah?" though his eyes were never once peeled from the console screen.

"i think he just asked me out," you tell them, bewildered.

this, of course, elicits reactions of surprise from jeongin and felix. the former lifts himself and sits up to ask details, while the other just turns the switch off—did he even save his progress on the game?—and sits there in silence as he silently watches you and jeongin discuss your classmate's... proposition. jeongin makes a playful jab at how you could have given him the wrong idea by flirting with him, which you immediately shut down. "i've never done anything suggestive to him, i swear!" you exclaimed in full defense.

seungmin has only ever made conversation with you once or twice in class, jeongin recalls. you also never really put in the effort to get to know your other classmates if jeongin and felix were in the same classes. jeongin makes a passing comment about how seungmin could pass as your type (if you squint hard enough), but it falls on deaf ears when you and felix meet each other's gazes.

"you're gonna tell him no, right?" felix suddenly chimes in after moments of prolonged silence, raspy voice cracking just a little. jeongin snaps his head to turn and look at his friend, head tilted and brow lifted. you give felix a look jeongin cannot quite describe, and chuckle with a soft smile as you nod. "of course i'm gonna say no," you assure him. he lets out a very heavy sigh of relief, but none of this goes unnoticed by jeongin.

this is very weird, jeongin remembers thinking. you have always been receptive to potential love interests, even if they weren't necessarily people you'd normally be into. so why are you so sure now that you'd reject seungmin without even giving him a chance?

on that note, what's it to felix who asks you out? why does he have a say? plus, he could've sworn he detected some semblance of... jealousy in his question. but he supposes that could be normal considering all three of you are so used to spending time with each other. jeongin does admit to himself that he'd feel lonely if you were to be whisked away by some stranger out of nowhere. it wouldn't be the same.

jeongin has theories, maybe even concepts of a theory, but no concrete enough proof for confrontation—so far. it looks like he has to wait till he does before he can address the massive elephant in the room.

FINAL STRIKE

it finally happens when he decides to stop by your apartment with take-out. you had told your friends about falling sick the night before—alas, you have caught the flu bug. they were just textbook symptoms like a low-grade fever, sore throat and a runny nose, nothing to worry about in particular, you told them. but jeongin just so happens to pass by your neighbourhood on his usual route home from work, so he decides to drop in with some chicken soup for you as a small surprise. you had already been texting the group chat the entire day about how exhausted you were to make yourself a half-decent dinner, so jeongin thought this would be a nice way to take care of his friend.

he knocks on your door multiple times to no response. maybe you're sleeping? he looks around the potted plants sitting outside your door and lifts the snake plant up, grabbing the rusted spare key tucked away from prying eyes just underneath. he quickly and quietly unlocks the front door and lets himself in. i'll just go in, check on y/n and put this soup on the table, he tells himself as he enters. maybe text you to let you know he got you dinner.

that is, until a warm aroma of what he believes to be fresh bolognese wafts to where he is at the front door. he hears the distant clanging of pots and pans coming from the kitchen, and—strangest of all—he hears... conversation? he can definitely hear you talking and even giggling, but he can't quite make out who the other person was. he's about 99% sure there was someone else in here, but could it be just a phone call? he sneaks down the hallway to the kitchen, the noises getting clearer as he inches closer. when he sticks his head out from a blind corner to peek into the kitchen, he sees it: felix plating a fresh bowl of spaghetti while you're sitting on the dining table engaged in idle chatter. a lump catches in his throat—what is felix doing here? and most importantly, why didn't he know of this? he felt momentarily betrayed.

jeongin just stands there in silence, unsure of how to confront you, while you and felix continue chatting. it's only when felix sets down two plates of pasta and goes in to plant a peck on your cheek does jeongin yelp in shock, which frightens all three of you.

felix squints his eyes, which widen in utter disbelief when he recognises the familiar facade lurking by the corridor. "jeong...in?" he asks, voice trembling a little from disbelief. when he says jeongin's name, you shoot him a similar look, but this one is more panicked and afraid. jeongin awkwardly steps out within view, but he puts a hand up to cover his mouth to prevent himself from screaming. he raises the other arm to point an accusatory finger at the both of you. you swear you just heard felix gulp next to you.

"i..." jeongin sputters. "i knew it! i knew something was going on between you two idiots!"

the verbalisation of his revelation is what completely opens the floodgates, causing the entire place to erupt in complete and utter chaos. jeongin paces back and forth with the chicken soup still dangling from his fingers as he rants about how he's caught you doing "weird stuff" a couple of times but couldn't have known, about how he's been feeling a little left out recently, how you have been looking at felix funny sometimes. meanwhile, felix just begins to talk over him with near-equal (if not more) amounts of sheer panic and distress, reaching out to him to get him to calm down while explaining that this wasn't how they had intended for him to find out.

you, crippled by the shock from jeongin's unexpected appearance, just sit there, unable to do much of anything what with your flu, just silently watching felix and jeongin form a panic attack circle jerk in your own house.

"enough!" jeongin raises his voice, which immediately shuts felix up. jeong has never raised his voice. you shoot felix a nervous look.

"i thought we were best friends," jeongin utters, the slightest hint of melancholy lacing his voice. he looks offended. you've never seen him look this offended, not even when he was accused of academic misconduct that one time. "i'm happy for you, ecstatic even! i swear i am, but really? why would you keep this for me for so long?"

you decide you should talk to him—felix is very clearly out of his depth when it comes to handling intense situations like this and he's only making jeongin feel worse with all the jabbering. you stand up from your seat on the table and walk over to him, taking your hands in his.

"i'm sorry, jeongin. we... we weren't entirely sure of how we were gonna do this," you tell him, almost in a whisper.

felix scratches the back of his neck, avoiding any and all eye contact with either of you. "we wanted to keep it quiet," he admits. "at first, at least."

you nod in agreement, and turn back to look at jeongin. "you were going to be the first person we would break the news to. not even our own parents, i swear," you divulge, while you spot felix in the corner of your eye making a silent crossed hearts gesture to double down on his sincerity. jeongin's once-tense features start to ease up a bit, but not entirely. "you are our best friend. we never want you to feel like this. we're sorry," you assure him, before pulling him into a bear hug. you feel felix join from behind you to make it a group hug.

"i don't care what you guys have going on, but don't keep any more secrets from me. got it?" your friend huffs after you all pull back, feigning some sort of authority. felix chuckles at how ridiculous he sounds—being the youngest of the three, the tone just sounds alien when it comes from him. "we would never," felix tells him, reaching out to give jeongin a firm pat on the back. "i think y/n might like you more than me anyway, they're always going, 'we should call jeongin! we should send him a photo! we should—"

your palm slaps against the lower half of your boyfriend's face in protest. "we might be dating but you're on thin ice," you glare at him, before he raises both hands to surrender.

jeongin jovially chimes in to break the tension: "can i just say, i've always felt like you'd get along. aren't you glad i introduced you to each other? you wouldn't be a thing if it weren't for me, ya know." felix and you just huff in response—he can have this.

[a-hazbin-reader]

I had an alastor ask you can ignore this but what about an alastor x wife!reader where one day one of the readers old friends from their living days manifest in hell it can be angsty or fluffy but I just really wanna see how you think alastor would react to suddenly remembering that the reader had a whole different life before hell and before him

You're an amazing write and I wanna see your take on this, if not thats ok too !! Have a lovely day 🩷

Ooh this is just juicy-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being sad, Alastor being jealous

Description: 👆⬆️

Look, Alastor is a smart man who knows you had a life before you met him, before you died

He knows this, he also had a life before you

A rather violent one towards the end there, but still...

But when one of your friends from when you were alive suddenly runs into you???? It suddenly feels like that previous life is coming to slap him in the face

"Y/N? Is that you?"

The way your face lights up with familiarity and you two rush to hug each other, obviously close

It makes him...feel something bad...

The conversation with your friend starts out simple and innocent enough, the two of you catching up with each other

You introduce your husband and Alastor can tell that your friend is surprised, probably not expecting you to be shacked up with the radio demon himself

He preens with your introduction, ready to hear your friend either gush about your amazing husband or shrink away in fear of him

Or at least that's what Alastor assumes the shocked look means

But then your friend mentions something about an old flame of yours and Alastor just kinda??? Gets a white hot flash of anxiety??

You get visibly upset at the mention of them, mumbling something to your friend that Alastor can't hear because he's not listening

You're scolding your friend for bringing up someone you hardly even thought about anymore, someone so unimportant in comparison to your husband

You had someone before him?? Someone you loved and cared about before you died and became stuck in hell?

Would you still go to them now if you had the choice? No, you wouldn't, he's one of the strongest demons in hell. Why would you leave him?

Because you loved people for more than that...

Then your friend is talking to him about your life when you were alive, telling him every stupid, funny, kind thing you did

Everything you enjoyed without him in your life

He's stuck in his own head and hurting his own feelings, the smile on his face painfully tight

"Alastor? Darling?"

Your concerned voice and gentle squeeze on his arm brings him back to reality, your friend having already left without his realizing

"Are you alright? You got quiet on me and that's not like you..."

And he's back to being his charming self, squashing down his ugly emotions

"My apologies my dear~! I just suddenly remembered I must meet Rosie today!"

He's gone before you can even question it, leaving you with a sinking feeling in your gut

The next few days after that Alastor is distant from you even though he's trying to play it off as being busy

Everyone at the hotel can see it and think that you two must be having a fight

You have to reassure them that no, mommy and daddy aren't fighting

He's been off ever since you ran into your friend and they brought up-

...your past...

Oh that stupid man of yours

It takes a lot of work to corner Alastor, he's stupidly clever and always has an excuse to avoid you

You however, did NOT become his wife by giving up easily

One time, he even straight up turned around and ran from you

And you almost fucking caught him if he hadn't cheated and melted away into the shadows

But you manage to catch him in his radio tower, using all your demonic power to sneak up on him

He jumps at the feeling of your arms draping around his neck from behind, feeling your lips on his temple

He's missed being so close to you, he really has

"We need to talk, darling one..."

This is exactly what he's been avoiding though, trying to get his uncomfortable feelings to go away so things can go back to normal between you two

"What is there to talk about, my dear~?"

He's pulling you into his lap, uncharacteristically enthusiastic about giving you affection all of a sudden, kissing up your neck and rubbing your thighs

You know he's trying to seduce you to get out of having to talk about his feelings so you stop him, placing a firm hand on his chest

"You've been avoiding me ever since we ran into my friend."

He visibly cringes at being so obviously caught, his smile strained, sharp teeth clenched tight

"I've simply been busy, I'm sorry if I've been neglecting my little wife..."

He's going in for another kiss, but you pull away with reluctance, you're attracted to your husband after all

You pull on his cheek and sigh, hugging his neck as you lean back to look at him

"Alastor, you know I hate it when you lie to me..."

Now he feels bad, he hates disappointing his wife like this...

"I suppose I have been a bit out of sorts..."

So he does his best to explain to you his uncertainty in your life, wondering if you've simply settled for him because you died

If you would choose your old life over him if ever given the chance, or leave him for a chance at heaven with people from your old life

He won't look at you the entire time he says this, leaning into you and hiding his face in your neck

Just run your fingers through his hair, maybe rub his ears a little, and listen to him vent

He doesn't like being open and vulnerable

"Oh darling, I didn't even know what love really was until I met you. Being here in hell with you has been more fulfilling than any life I had before..."

Not him making a little deer bleat before growling out of embarrassment, clutching you a little tighter

"You wouldn't-"

"Alastor, if anybody even tries to make me leave you, I'll kill them myself."

That makes him chuckle, leaning back to finally look at you

"Oh, you twisted wonderful wife~"

He's literally immediately back to himself after that, almost as though none of it ever happened

You're always surprised by how quickly your husband recovers

Maybe it's just because he trusts you so much, your words alone were enough to reassure him of his place in your world

You meant every word

When your friend comes back to visit you, Alastor actually engages with them this time

He wants to know more about who you used to be now that his confidence in his marriage has been restored

The dude is literally walking around like he got laid for the first time

Angel...shut up...

Holds you close to him the entire time, relaxed as he listens to you and your friend go on about old times

"Wait...you jumped out of a third story window? While being chased by a man with one leg?"

"And LIVED!"

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET TO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

[koishua]

★. 𝐄𝐍— and the orange peel theory.

! © 𝗞𝗢𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗨𝗔 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰, 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗩𝗘𝗗.

starring hee, jay, jake. + their version of the orange peel theory

━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

he doesn't think anything of it when he snaps your chopsticks in two for you from where he is positioned across you. the plastic chairs in front of the convenience store upon which you're seated on aren't the most comfortable, the sharp edges digging into your skin on occasions when you fidget around trying to find a way to strike up a conversation with the man you can't bare to label as your friend now.

the bamboo sticks now rest on top of the lid of your bowl of instant ramen, currently waiting to be fully cooked within the three minute time frame the instructions had given you. you notice how they hadn't split equally, one having snapped away a small portion of the other side with it. the irony of it all feels comical when you detach yourself from the situation you're currently trying not to run away from.

heeseung doesn't say much as you hesitantly take the broken utensil. he can only pretend to awkwardly observe the engravings in the table, occasionally glancing at the dainty chain of the necklace hiding under your collar. it had been his fingers to graze against the skin of your neck to clasp it together for you. he wonders what hurts more; remembering, or having to force himself to forget about it all?

━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐉𝐀𝐘

the house is quiet, had been for hours now, except for your frantic breaths and hurried stomps while darting from room to room, trying to find your bearings as the time ticks by much too quickly for your liking. the alarms you'd set for your lecture hadn't rung (they had, actually— no one would dare to disagree, however), which had naturally resulted in you running late for it yet again.

your lips lift lopsidedly moments after the neatly framed picture of the happiest moment of your life catches your eye as you try to put on the stubborn socks you'd fished out from the drawer on your side of the bed. jay had always been beautiful, even back when he still had that boyish smirk constantly plastered over his face, hair a mess.

you make a mental note to wipe away the dust that had started to form a thin sheet over the wooden frame, though that too is quickly forgotten when you realize that he'd very kindly filled up your bottle with water and placed it next to the most comfortable shoes you owned he'd laid nearly on the floor by the door, certain of your forgetful habits.

━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄

layla's tail wags excitedly at the sight of the treat in your hands that you leave for her to enjoy. smoothing over the gingham sheet before laying back on the lap of your favourite person in this universe and the next, from where you look up at him, the sun blazing in the sky makes it look like he's emitting a heavenly glow. fitting for someone like sim jake.

days like this don't come by often for either of you, so having you right by him, the weather as beautiful as it could ever get. this is what he'd describe heaven to feel like. every part of his body beats with the insatiable desire to always have you as close to him as possible, day and night.

the cool breeze is a constant visitor to your little spot by the beach, a welcome addition to the already magical day. realising that he'd gotten lost in his thoughts, he looks down at your serene expression, off somewhere in dreamland, most likely. his thumb gently traces under your eyes, a ghostly touch afraid of waking you up from your deserved rest. he unclips the hair accessories he can see tugging and digging into your skin before adjusting the shade to cover your eyes.

this is his dreamland.

notes from vie: couldn't help it with the hee angst y'all im sorry it's a koishua must. it was very mild tho so yeah enjoy please i haven't exercised my enha writing skills in ages and as always pls reblog muah muah ignore any errors i haven't got the energy to correct them myself 🍊🍊

[writeaboutit]

I Lied

You and Ellie met on a dating app, you lied about something minor, and she finds out (but is cute and fluffy, and a laugh is had).

Hi haven't written anything in a long while so forgive if this is absolute shite🙏🏻🙏🏻. This just popped into my head totally not based on anything real, no definitely not.

"Hey baby," Ellie greets as she walks through your shared bedroom door. She's slightly hunched over and shuffling her feet showing that she had a long, exhausting day.

You pop off the bed and wrap her in a hug. She melts into your embrace.

"You tired baby?" you question. You can feel the movement of her nodding her head against the crook of your neck. She must be really spent if she can't even say yes.

Usually, the moment she gets home from work she's either ranting about her incompetent coworkers or she's excitedly sharing a new fact she learned about that week's hyperfixation.

Her silence is a bit off-putting. You feel the need to hear her voice so you prompt her, "What can I do for you?"

The silence rings out for a moment, the only sound to be heard is your breath and hers intermingling. Then she's responding, "You know that time you told me you cooked pad thai before we started dating?"

You furrow your brows in confusion. You can recall when you told her that over text, in the dating app you met on, but you're a bit confused as to why she's bringing it up now, or why she even remembers that at all.

"Yes," you say hesitantly, wondering where this conversation is going.

"Can you make that? It sounds so good right now." She asks with puppy dog eyes.

For a moment you're caught off guard. You never thought she would ask you to make her pad thai after that conversation and you worry for all of two seconds before bursting into laughter.

Ellie pulls away from the hug and looks at you with confusion. She props her hand on her hip and watched as you double over with laughter before righting yourself and calming down.

"Oh baby, I'm sorry but I lied," You giggle again, "I tried to make pad thai but it turned out so bad. I only told you I made a good pad thai because I wanted you to think I was this sexy girl who could cook well," you let out one last chuckle when you finish your explanation.

Ellie's jaw is hanging open, "What if I was only dating you for your pad thai-making abilities?"

You chuckle at that as well. There is no way this woman is only dating you for your cooking skills, that's for sure.

"I'd say you're full of shit. We've been dating for two years and you have not once brought up my homemade pad thai." You prop a had on you hip and raise an eyebrow waiting for her retort.

She throws her head back with a laugh before enveloping you in her arms, "You're such an idiot, I love you."

You smack her arm playfully, "Hey I'm not an idiot, and I love you too."

"You're right, you're not an idiot my love." She says the last bit against your lips before connecting them.

When you break apart she looks down at you before asking, "Well now what are we going to eat?"

You shrug, "We can order Thai food for delivery."

"See this is why I love you, you're a problem solver." She places quick kisses across your cheeks and the bridge of your nose causing you to giggle.

"Okay okay get off me so I can make the order," you laugh as you push her away.

"I love you," she throws out as you walk out of the bedroom towards the kitchen.

"Yeah, yeah." you laugh, giddy over your girlfriend.

so yeah there ya go. idk what this was i just really need to get back into the habit of writing. this wasn’t proof read so sorry about any mistakes. i’m gonna keep writing so trust better stuff will be posted🙏🏻

[n3rdy247]

HELLOO!!

can i just get a john dory x female reader! headcanons!

john dory met while crashing the wedding and immediately started to flirt with dispite just meeting her. 🫣

THANK YOU!!

HIYAAA!! CAN YOU??? 🤔🤔🤔

girl be so fr OF COURSE YOU CAN!!!

ALL ABOAAAARD THE JOHN DORY X FEM!READER HCS!!!!! WOOOOOOOOO

Okay, so, you know the whole 'watching a cute, romantic ass wedding' plans everyone had for today? Just...watching two bergens have a nice, uninterrupted marriage?

"STOP THE WEDDING!!!"

well fuck those plans. ★ Starting off the bat, when he was literally parkouring his way down that building which just happened to be the MOMENT he noticed you from the crowd, he couldn't help but throw a wink your way right after (even though he had his goggles on, that stupid mf) which led to him face-planting to the floor because his ass was NOT paying attention to stick the landing. YIKES. ★ He also DOES notice when you are at the edge of your seat to hear what the hell is going on. Apparently, he was Branch's brother (figures since both are fine ash, MUST be in the genetics), he was in a band, and his other hot brother was in danger?

remember the wedding? yeah me neither atp

★ He can't help but steal occasional glances at you when the others talk, and when he does, his smile almost seems to widen, even if it's just for a split second. He just saw you, yet look at you go! Making him all giddy and shit inside 🤭 ★ And whenever Poppy and Branch turn their backs to discuss the whole situation, you just KNOW he would be smirking at you with a smug-ass grin, trying to strike up a conversation. Keyword? TRYING.

"Soo...come here often?" lord almighty sir THIS IS A WEDDING.

"Damn, I could really go out for some fresh air right now, because I think you took my breath away." SIR WE ARE OUTSIDE WHAT

Needless to say, this man does NOT know how to strike up a convo.

★ If you do end up getting flustered about his horrendous pick-up lines somehow, he will be so fucking proud of himself for getting a reaction out of you, and WILL keep going at it. What a charmer. (Unless you are uncomfortable with that of course, he might not know how to talk to people, but he has human (troll???) decency.) ★ I'm talking him leaning slightly closer to you with half-lidded eyes, a huge smirk plastered on his face as his voice gets lower and lower, though internally I feel like he'd be going 'LET'S FUCKING GOOOO I STILL GOT IT' since he would be a bit unsure if he was doing well in the first place. It's probably been years since he had any sort of interaction with anyone other than Rhonda so it's understandable. ★ Not to mention BROZONE. MY GOD. If you know about his band? NICE! If you don't know anything about it? NICE! Either way, this man will absolutely brag about it to you. Even if it has been AT LEAST 20 YEARS. He will absolutely talk about 'the good old days' as if it was just yesterday. Bro would probably talk about how he wrote the hits "Girl Baby Baby" and "Baby Baby Girl" on the same day. ★And who knows? Maybe at the end of the wedding when sadly he has to go to save his brother with Branch and Poppy, you'll end up getting a way to contact him after the whole thing ends. You will see him sooner than you think, that's for sure though!

(please keep in mind this is the first time I've written any serious headcanons like these and not just stuff like 'he would be a great hugger' or 'he was a 7.5-inch haver 🤯🤯🤯')

GRAAAGH I'M STILL SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE THIS THOUGH, I STILL HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT EVEN IF IT IS SHORT AS HELL

[elliespuns]

There's this deleted dialogue between Ellie and Dina (video) where all of our theories of how their friendship/relationship started are confirmed. I took the time to write down the whole thing before analyzing the hell out of it.

Dina, is pink. Ellie, is not.

I was asking, if I hadn't come on to you in Jackson, how would you have hit on me? Like I would have hit on you. You totally would've hit on me. How bad could it have gone? You might have rejected me and then what? I'd have to watch you fall for someone else. Okay, worst case, it would be a little awkward and we just move on. There's no way we just move on. Yes, you would have. What if you were grossed out? What if you didn't wanna be around me anymore? Such a pussy. Okay, who was the one that had this blinding urge to kiss me for 4 years and didn't do shit?

Tell me about when you first realized you were into me. Was it my swagger, my overwhelming beauty? I was into from the day we met. Go on. The day we met, you introduced yourself to me and Joel like you were the major or something. Because I thought you were cute. *blushing* shut up! I hate you. No, you don't. Yes, I do. No, you don't. I love you. I love you too.

Okay, so, as Ellie says, she was into Dina from the day they met. Which was when they came to Jackson with Joel. Ellie was still 14 (I guess more likely freshly 15 at the time, actually). Dina is probably like a year older, so she was 16. I mean, now I can't stop imagining 15-year-old Ellie meeting 16-year-old Dina and being all twitterpated by her. Just remember the cuteness when Ellie was shown to be in love with Riley. Imagine this when she's 15 and meets Dina. Just adorable.

Also, quoting Ellie "Okay, who was the one that had this blinding urge to kiss me for 4 years and didn't do shit?"

This means even Dina had a crush on Ellie in the early stages. 4 years ago, Ellie was 15, so that means she either started to like her right away or a little bit later on. The girls were into each other, just tiptoeing around one another not to do anything stupid or ruin their friendship.

This also gives us a pretty clear picture of how things were between Ellie and Cat. She was already in love with Dina at the time she was going out with her, and remembering how Dina always disliked the fact that Ellie was hanging out with Cat only proves that Dina was jealous all along. Her relationship with Jessee must have been something similar to what Ellie had with Cat, although I believe that Dina started dating Jesse a lot sooner and had already been good friends before that.

Ellie seems a little hesitant when it comes to relationships (this whole dialogue confirms it too), so maybe if it wasn't for Cat making first steps, Ellie would have never gotten into any relationship to begin with. It seems to me that she just wanted to explore and wanted to know what it was like, but she didn't really made herself believe that she loved her. She surely cared for her and liked her, but knowing she was in love with Dina at the time, it was probably even the reason why Cat broke up with her (I always thought it was her who ended it). She probably knew all along that Ellie had eyes for her best friend anyway.

I also appreciate how Ellie admits she was insecure about asking Dina out. "What if you were grossed out? What if you didn't wanna be around me anymore?", I love how deep this digs into Ellie's personality and how, even though she is a strong and independent girl, she still struggles with abandonment issues. Now she doesn't feel like this only towards Joel, but towards her best friend too. Like, she is lovely, nice, funny, and beautiful, but she still feels insecure. Help me with this girl, she deserves the world because she'd rather love her friend from afar than ending up without a friend. Under the layer of thick skin and a strong mind, this girl is so fucking sensitive and fragile it physically hurts me.

This gives the dance scene a whole lot of new meaning. It's probably the very first time Dina says to herself, 'Okay, now's the time. It's now or never.' and after all those years of resisting, she makes a move on Ellie, knowing the girl must feel it too. The girl is too quirky and shy to hide it anymore whenever she's around Dina.

And Ellie? She has been loving Dina for too long, probably trying to convince herself she wouldn't have a chance with Dina, thinking she's into guys, not girls, let alone her girl best friend. And there she is, suddenly grabbing Ellie's hand and leading her on the dance floor, wrapping HER ARMS around HER BODY. Ellie's arms around her body. What is happening? Is she just imagining it? Ellie's heart must have missed thousands of beats at this moment. I love how it's shown in her facial expression as Dina whispers in her ear. Ellie is so awestruck that she doesn't even realize all Dina wants to do is something she should've done 4 years ago.

[percabeth4life]

I feel like rick missed an opportunity when he made Frank closer to Percy's age instead of Hazel's. Like, I'm sure there are reasons (It's been a while since I read HoO, so I can't say what they are, but they're probably there(I hope)), but can you imagine Percy, on a quest with two kids that are 13-14 (I can't remember how old she is in SoN, can't find it either, so guessing low it is).

Even without his memories, he'd be halfway to feral, but once he got them back, I can't see him doing anything but going from protective to absolutely destroying anything that hurt them.

I also think it would have been hilarious to have Percy and Annabeth at like, 17-ish? And have the rest of the seven at like, 14 max. Percy and Annabeth are trying to keep this group of 13-14 year olds alive, and they're both screaming internally half the time. Sometimes, it's just screaming, but sometimes, they scream about how toddlers shouldn't be on quests.

(Side note this popped into my head while I was writing, so have a- thing

Annabeth: There's a bunch of babies, Loose on a quest! No one knows what the babies are going to do next, least of all the babies! They've never been on a quest before!

Narrator: The babies in question are 14, and they have, in fact, been on quests before. (She is right about them not knowing what they're going to do, though.))

Then again, maybe I just like big brother/protector Percy too much. (Reluctant and screaming big sister/mentor figure Annabeth is also fun.)

(And on a sadder note, Annabeth realizes this must be what Luke and Thalia felt like and almost starts crying.)

To start, you're absolutely right that it was a missed opportunity. Percy is, without knowing it, the most experienced of the questers, except Frank is nearly his age in comparison to Hazel (who should be 14 by math, but is 13 by Rick's declaration). I think it's less that he made Frank closer to Percy's age and more that he was trying to make Hazel younger than Nico.

But yes, it would've been super interesting to see him basically mentoring the other two, especially after he regained his memories. I feel it was a major missed opportunity to not have Percy and Annabeth trying to watch over the younger quest members, instead he aimed for weakening the two to make everyone else their equal. It's a shame cause it missed the opportunity for the younger questers to be major boons for their skills, rather than raw power.

And also, the two of them looking after younger ones and wanting to protect them but also having to risk their lives to save the world- and the rest being alone when Percabeth falls with Nico to help except half of them find him freaky- would've allowed them to grow into their own more.

It would also show how Percy and Annabeth really ARE the most experienced, how their quests haven't been the norm so even Jason who is remembering some quests hasn't done anything this insane before but Percabeth just takes it all in stride.

[jermer10]

Hello! Could you write for some enemies/rivals to lovers with sniper? Thank you in advance and remember to stay hydrated!

TF2 enemies to lovers sniper

suggestive, gn reader | thanks anon!! i have my water bottle next to me at all times :] i apologize for how long this has taken!! <3

drabbles under the cut :P

- Sniper hated you, he made it so obvious the rest of your team couldn't even stand staying in the same room as the two of you - he sits there, glaring daggers into your face, arms crossed over his chest - you take no notice, carrying on with whatever menial task you had been performing - you knew what he was doing, but you also knew that if you were to meet his glance with anything other than an equal match of hatred to his, it would bruise his pride - so you didn’t look at all, and there was one thing he hated more than you; your ignorance - truth is, you didn’t hate him in the slightest, you didn't even dislike him - you couldn’t even place where exactly this feud started, let alone why Sniper seemed to despise you so much - you could go as far as to say you found him quite…appealing - you often found yourself thinking of him during your daily activities, fantasizing about what you thought he would like and dislike, how your lives would mesh together - so his perceived hatred towards you felt so unfounded when you had been anything but aggressive towards him - Sniper didn’t really hate you either - having a crush was so foreign to him, he knew he wanted you in a way that conflicted with the way he treated you, but vulnerability never came easy to him - and eventually someone had to say something - "why do y'all even hate eachother?" engie frowned - "fucked if i know..." you mumbled, taking a sip of the water in your glass - Sniper rolled his eyes, "they're a stuck up bitch..." he mumbled - you felt enraged, seriously you had been nothing but cordial with him and YOU were the stuck up bitch? - "are you fucking serious?" you returned a look to his already scowling face, it must have taken him aback because his tough guy demeanor fell for a moment, a look of surprise came from both of the men in front of you - engie awkwardly shuffled out of the kitchen, the tension so thick you'd have to use a chainsaw to cut it - "i've been nothing but fucking cordial with you, you're the one who started giving me dirty looks, cockhead" you spat - "oh fuck off, you ignore me every chance you get" he retorted - you only ignored him because he kept looking at you like that, like you had killed his parents or something - "whatever jackass" you begun to walk off, face flushed in anger - he grabs your wrist, you flip your head around to look up at him - and...he kisses you? - you're confused, even more angry, but above all else...turned on? - you lean into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck - he pulls away after a moment, looks at you with something you can't place, and he walks away - "asshole!" he doesn't even spare you a glance

[cherryskyies]

What your favorite slasher says about you — part two

includes: og michael myers, bo sinclair, vincent sinclair

this is just the start of my slasher writing. so far, they are winning on the poll, so what better way to start than to finish old pieces?

please bare w me, my writing is a smidge rusty ok 😔

Masterlist || Navigation || a03

Og Michael Myers

I can't explain it well, but he is the equivalent of that inner cold feeling when you were at your lowest. You can still remember it in memories and it's a comfort you can't let go. It's giving major attachment issues, even to things that ruined you. Letting go of your past is like letting go of yourself — you can't do it.

You weren't listened to growing up either, and maybe even now you still aren't. Advice was given, especially when you didn't want it. You're desperate to have someone just listen.

Alone time is a must in your life, you can't have someone all up in your business 24/7. 

Probably a water sign with an air moon. Or a Taurus who never had stability.

Rough sex is a must. I mean, it's Michael. Rough is the only way you'll get it and you like it like that. Also, it's giving blood & knife play vibes.

Very independent. You'd rather die than have to depend on another person for necessities. 

Bo Sinclair

It's giving possible substance abuse or alcoholism. I mean, you only drink Monday-Sunday?? What's the harm in that?

You crave possession in a relationship. Maybe you never felt special, so it's a must to have a partner willing to kill for you and show you off.

Bondage is definitely an interest of yours. You might be into forced submission and definitely into being covered in marks. 

It's also giving daddy issues. Something about an older man calling you baby and sweetheart sends you into overdrive. You want him to provide and you want him to make most of the decisions while you sit pretty.

You've never experienced a stable relationship either, especially with men, so you don't care that he'd be toxic. You only care that he's there and not likely to leave. 

Probably an earth sign or neglected fire sign.

Vincent Sinclair

Either an only child or the ignored one — maybe both.

Body worship is a must. Nothing more attractive than a man that makes you feel special, loved, and seen.

You don't care about money or expensive dates and trips. You'd be happy with a picnic and spending alone time together, because to you it means more than anything money could buy. 

Definitely insecure yourself, so you're drawn to those with obvious flaws; not that you think he's flawed, but it gives a deeper understanding.

Actions mean more than words. You've likely been let down by those who have said they would do something, but never did. 

Soft, meaningful sex is your style. If you can't feel an emotional connection or you don't feel loved during, then you aren't happy and begin to feel insecure in the relationship. 

You enjoy peace and tranquility. Maybe you're an artist or it simply fascinates you due to the complexity and millions of meanings. Do you stay up and think about the past and it's art, wondering what was going through their minds and what they had witnessed to create it?

[im-the-j-in-anthony-j-crowley]

Okay, here me out, i can't stop thinking about demons and the fact that many of them can't spell

Crowley says that spelling is not their strong point, and we see this exemplified especially in Shax and Furfur, but now recently it occurred to me to look up how to pronounce food in Italian. Remember Hastur? If you look it up, you'll notice it's cibo, and if you listen to the pronunciation, you'll notice it's VERY similar to the pronunciation of ciao (what Crowley says in that scene, remember?).

Learning this is what gives me a start for what I had been thinking for quite some time, because at the beginning I thought that the spelling thing was something for only the lower level demons, after all, Shax and Furfur have leveled up, but initially they were at the bottom. But not Hastur, Hastur is a duke of hell.

And the confusion between cibo and ciao proves that he must likewise have some kind of problem with language comprehension.

Also, I want to add, I'm not entirely sure if this is a good point, because I may be influenced by the fact that I'm not a native speaker, but Dagon's motivational speech doesn't directly reflect poor language use, but I get a sense that it doesn't reflect great command of it either

And then we go to Crowley, I assume we all think at first glance that Crowley has no problem with language, right? But let me remind you of something: Crowley hates books.

Yes, he has books. But the one book we see, has pictures, lots of pictures. An illustrated astronomy book. In addition to this, Crowley demonstrates a strong dislike of books. Contempt. Hatred. Yes, we've seen him write things. Yes, they are well written. But it doesn't seem to be something he enjoys

With all of this information, I'm going to reach the conclusion that ALL demons have a problem with language, especially written language. Even despite the fact that they are able to speak every existing language.

And I feel that this is a curious detail, because taking into account the powers they have, one would think that they could compensate those difficulties by miracles, right?

They don't. They still have those errors, and you could say it's because none of them have thought of it but... Really? None of them have thought of it? In 6000 years? I don't believe it.

So it must be something intrinsic, there's something they can't change that makes it difficult for them to write/spell.

And we could even go further, because one of the things I find curious, is the fact that Shax has problems with sarcasm. A demon, problems with sarcasm. No one in 6000 years spoke sarcastically to Shax?

I don't have enough arguments to add this as a collective demon problem, since Shax is (I think) the only one we've seen with that problem, but it's something close enough to mention.

Mixing all this up, I should mention the big elephant in the room: Demons have written records of who enters hell

We've already established that the difficulties with language go as far as the dukes, and I feel it's not jumping too far if we say that Beelzebub and Satan possibly shouldn't be spared.

So, who are these reports for? It's not like they're going to read them, I know that's hell, but why would they force themselves to go through that torture?

The only thing that makes sense is that those reports are for someone external, and there are only two options: heaven, or directly God.

And both options seem pretty cruel to me, because we know one thing: angels can read.

Aziraphale can, Muriel can, Gabriel can, we don't have any example of an angel who can't read. Crowley had a book before he fell. So we can assume that demons could read.

They could, and the fact that now they can't makes me see only one possible explanation: Falling caused them those problems.

And I feel that if we mix my two conclusions, the ending is something very ugly. Demons have problems with language, especially written language. Those problems started when they were expelled from heaven. They make written records that are possibly presented to those who turned them into demons.

Basically it is a very strong level of cruelty.

Please recognize the demon's rights. They still deserve to have rights

[sugar-omi]

good lord I was trying to study but out of nowhere I know where🩸this came into my mind:

having a night in at ur grown up house w cove derek and baxter (only dating cove) and everyone gets wasted asf so they sleep over and late at night the other two can hear u and cove in ur bedroom 👀 ykwim?

the smut and angst potential of them getting off to listening to u two from their respective guest rooms and the irony of both ur guests doing it omggggggg 🫣

in the morning neither of them can properly look at u two out of shame and u and cove r just embarrassed cause u think it’s just cause they heard u (and ofc ur only half right)

these ideas fr come to me at the worst time lol

-🗑️

I AM SCREAMING. YOU'RE SO BRILLIANT I CAN'T.... derek would really try not to, but i feel like it'd end up seeping into his dreams and he just can't resist. and baxterrrr omg... he'd be so embarrassed n ashamed, i dont think he'd be able to sleep the rest of the night at all, even once you n cove are done... pls you sent this at the perfect time bc i was about to start writing n i cannot focus until i write this now, i must have this in a fic.. n ik it isn't what you're talking about, but this is also so good n i instantly thought abt this scenario. i will take ANY chance for derek n baxter to fall in love or into bed LOL

tags : NSFW, baxter x derek, one night stand (UNLESS), you and cove drink, auralism*, oral (derek receiving), top/dom baxter, bottom derek, derek has a crush on you/MC, baxter has a thing for both of you or maybe he's just a kinky bastard

*to be aroused by sound. (can be compared with voyeurism)

synopsis : baxter and derek are staying with you for an extended vacation (much needed for both of them.) and while you two have been considerate and lovely hosts, you're a bit loud... not that it's a problem. quite the opposite actually..

imagine baxter is pouring himself a glass of wine, unable to get your and cove's muffled moans out of his head.

he's generous with his pouring, since everyone already had a lot to drink during dinner, being reserved is unnecessary.

baxter tips back his cup, licking his lips, savoring the sweet taste of this wine, humming at the taste. not bad..

he's checking the label, wanting to remember the brand so he can add it to his shelves at home.

"oh."

baxter looks up, tired eyes wide at the sudden guest. he's met with derek's wide eyes, equally tired..

baxter gives a lopsided smile, trying to be friendly with his new friend. he gestures to the barstools across from him, "care to join me?"

derek rubs his neck shyly, "ah, i wouldn't want to impose. i just came for some water.."

baxter shakes his head, leaning back on the island, taking a sip of his wine. if he knew he'd have company, he wouldn't have poured so much at once.

he licks his lips, trying not to eye his glass to see if it looks like an reasonable amount of wine. trying to preserve his put together image is fruitless anyway, baxter is a hot mess walking and you could probably smell his issues all the way from france.

"nonsense, i wouldn't mind company. the best conversations are best shared under the stars, i'd say. although, i won't blame if you're going bak to bed." baxter laughs to himself humorlessly. "probably a better idea than getting drunk again."

derek laughs, "well, if you don't mind the company then.." and goes about grabbing some water before sitting across from baxter, trying to be quiet when he drags out the barstool.

there's a stretch of silence between them, the two of them sipping their drinks and baxter plays off his awkwardness by admiring the photo collage in the hallway, visible through the wide doorway.

baxter turns back to derek, who's holding his water with both hands, dozily looking into the glass. he looks up and is surprised to meet baxter's sharp gaze, but plays it off with a smile.

baxter speaks lazily, his movements languished and his bones heavy. he's feeling warm from the wine, and a bit chatty. "couldn't sleep either, huh?"

derek laughs, "that obvious?"

baxter shrugs, speaking around the lip of his wineglass. "i figured we're in the same boat."

derek stills, his cheeks slowly filling red, and he looks up, trying to figure out if he's trying to say he also heard you and cove doing... it. the other night.

baxter bounces his eyebrows, and that makes derek flush brightly, looking down. "y-yeah, i guess we are.."

he laughs, covering his mouth to muffle the noise.

derek seems to relax a bit at his amusement, and eventually they relax a bit more, and baxter goes on to tell derek more of his wedding horror stories when he asks.

they're laughing, trying to muffle the sound with their hands when they get too loud, and baxter is leaned over the counter, rambling to derek as softly as possible.

baxter signs and shakes his head, a smile still on his lips as he takes another sip. he's definitely getting buzzed again.

and at some point baxter even sits next to him and derek seems to greatly enjoy baxter's open laughter and his wide gestures as he narrates his stories, even throwing up his own chaotic stories about what it was like growing up with his brothers.

"hey.." derek calls, and baxter hums curiously in response. "does that taste good?"

baxter raises his brow but tips his glass towards derek. "it is. it has notes of peach and honey... wanna try?"

derek glances between baxter's eyes and the wine, nodding, taking the glass from his hands and taking a long sip...

baxter's eyes are stuck on derek's lips, his eyes following how his throat bobs when he swallows and his tongue dashes out to lick the wine running down the corner of his lips..

baxter snaps his eyes back towards derek's, who's already looking back at him.

the silence seems long, and the distance between derek and baxter's lips seems even longer, and he feels antsy even though they're both leaning in, their lips meeting in the middle in a soft kiss.

derek deepens the kiss, leaning into baxter, and humming into the kiss when baxter starts rubbing his thigh, his fingers sliding down th fabric of his sweatpants until he's touching his inner thigh, dangerously close to his bulge..

a moan echoes, and baxter and derek break apart, panting and their lips wet and swollen. then they hear it again, and some muffled talking.

they look into each others eyes, unable to move. they're both wide awake now, both because of that hot kiss and the sounds of cove's deep, and futile muffled moans.

their chests rise and fall, tension in the air, mingling with something else...

derek speaks first, taking baxter's hand before he can pull away. "do you... should we go to your room?"

baxter blinks owlishly, shocked and flustered. but really fucking turned on.

"yes, yeah, yeah okay.." he stumbles his words, totally knocked off his feet by the way derek looks at him, his green eyes deep with lust, and the whole turn of events.

derek leads him down the hall, and baxter is grateful he didn't somehow knock over the barstool or the flower vase in the hall.

they walk past your shared bedroom, baxter's designated room for his stay, at the end of the hall.

baxter tries to ignore the way his cock throb when he hears cove curse and growl, "fuck, you're so warm..." he tries not to think about it, but the idea of what you two are getting up to, how you both look and sound, what you're doing to each other...

he's trying not to let his mind run away with him but he's admittedly, a weak man. and so is derek, if the way he clutches his hand tighter and all but shoves baxter through the door and closes the door a bit louder than he should.

you and cove always drown out all other forms of life when you're together, and baxter doubts it's much different in the bedroom, if not "worse."

derek pushes baxter to sit on the bed, standing over him, his legs on either side of baxter's lap and he pulls off his shirt, throwing it on the floor.

baxter licks his lips, his hands sliding up derek's waist and stomach, his body thick and toned with muscles... "goddamn..." baxter exhales, all but drooling at the sight.

derek laughs shyly, lifting his arm to rub his neck (a nervous tick baxter has come to realize) and the muscles in his arm stretches and flex. baxter has a distant thought about derek being able to manhandle him...

"is this okay?" derek asks, suddenly shy now.

baxter nods, leaning in to kiss along derek's bronze stomach, his lips trailing down his happy trail to his bulge. "more than okay.."

baxter tugs on derek's sweatpants, looking up at him. "let me know if you want to stop..."

he tugs down derek's pants and underwear, letting his cock spring free. baxter strokes his cock to full mast, and derek holds onto baxter's hand for support, his other hand coming up to muffle his moan.

baxter wraps his lips around derek's flushed tip, sucking and circling his tongue over the head.

"b-baxter..." derek gasps, his thighs shaking.

baxter takes him deeper down his throat, keeping eye contact as he swallows around his cock, reaching down to palm his own bulge through his satin pajamas.

he groans, the vibrations sending shivers up derek's spine and derek mumbles, his fingers finding their way to baxter's hair, clinging onto the already messy locks.

baxter tears his hand away from his hard-on, to undo the buttons on his pajama shirt, the buttons slipping through his fingers until his shirt is wide open.

"mhm-!" baxter startles, gripping onto derek's thighs, his hips bucking up into his warm mouth.

derek moans shakily, "oh f- i'm sorry. sorry.." he babbles, pushing back baxter's fringe, his thighs twitching and his muscles clenching under baxter's hands.

baxter hums around derek's length, patting his thigh. his tongue drags along the underside of his cock, baxter's lips pulling off him with a pop, his lips wet and puffy.

baxter's sharp, lustful eyes meeting derek's equally horny gaze. derek's flushed cheeks are a feast for baxter's eyes, he can't wait to have him in bed..

"do you.. wanna go further?" baxter asks, his hand making obscene wet noises from all the pre-cum and spit, as he strokes derek's cock in his fist.

derek nods, his throat bobbing as he tries not to fall to his knees or cry out and alert you and cove to what they're doing in here.. "yes, please.."

baxter pulls away, standing up to tug off the rest of his clothes while derek tugs off his pants, almost tripping when the leg gets stuck on his ankle but baxter ignores it since he's not very elegant either, the wine still buzzing through him.

he throws his clothes on the floor, all but throwing himself into the bed with derek, straddling his lap as he captures his lips in a kiss, his tongue slipping past derek's lips, guiding his tongue to move with his own.

derek grips baxter's waist, his hands pulling him down to grind him into his lap, their cocks sliding together.

baxter breaks the kiss, his lips falling to derek's neck...

"cove- cove- cove!" your cry is heard through the wall, followed by muffled moans and whimpers.

"ah!" derek moans, his fingrs digging into the plush of baxter's hips when he bites down on his neck.

"oh- sorry. did i hurt you?" he worries, kissing the area soothingly. he didn't expect you to.. cry out so loudly. not that you aren't allowed to be loud in your own home, or anything like that. he just didn't think you'd sound so hot.

he's trying not to think about if he wishes it was his name on your lips, or what cove is doing to make you call his name so loudly and lewdly...

derek shakes his head, or tries too with baxter under his chin. "i mean, it hurt but.. it wasn't bad..." derek admits shyly.

baxter smiles, pulling off his neck to kiss his lips again, smiling too much to kiss properly but they have all night for that anyway...

he leans over the edge of the bed for his bag, fumbling through the open inner pocket for a condom and lube.

it's not that baxter planned to get laid on this trip, it's just bad to be unprepared.

"do you want to be on top?" baxter inquires, pointing the condom at derek.

he flushes, licking his lips and glancing off to the side. "um.. if you don't mind, you can be on top..."

baxter raises his brows, a blush high on his cheeks.

ohh derek really is interesting.

"not at all." baxter purrs, fixing their position so one of derek's legs is on his shoulder, and the other over his thigh.

he slowly sinks one, then two, then three digits into derek's hole, scissoring his fingers and rubbing derek's thigh soothingly. he's such a mess just from his fingers alone, derek's face half buried in the pillow and his hips bucking up and his thighs shaking.

"that's-" derek pants, swallowing thickly. "that's enough... put it in.. please..." he gasps, peeking at baxter through his lashes.

"fuck..." baxter curses, his stomach dipping with lust.

he fumbles, trying to open the condom but his fingers are covered in lube and he ends up ripping it with his teeth impatiently. baxter rolls it over his length, leaning over to pull derek into a kiss as he sinks into him.

"hmmn!" derek mewls into the kiss, his arms coming to lock around baxter's neck.

baxter slams his hips into derek, a loud slap sounding through the room from baxter's hips meeting his ass. baxter breaks the kiss, hissing.

that was definitely too loud, but it's also been so long since he's been with someone, and derek is so charming, that he's not sure he cares..

derek moans, trying to stifle it by biting his lips.

they pant, letting derek adjust to his length and for them to catch their breath, baxter feels like the air has been knocked out of him with how derek's hot walls are wrapped around him, his hole clenching and flutter around him, trying to take him deeper.

"mn, y/n-" cove voice is muffled, keeping them from hearing the rest of his sentence. although it was probably cut short, if the deep groan they hear through the wall is anything to go by.

baxter pants, "i'm.. i'mma start moving..." he gasps, moving so he's sitting up again, his hand pushing derek's knee up towards his chest.

derek covers his mouth with his hand, baxter's cock dragging so slowly against his walls, his eyes rolling and fluttering shut when his tip bumps against a sensitive spot in his walls, dangerously close to his prostate..

"harder!- ha- oh fuck!" you curse and moan unabashedly loud, followed by your bed frame thumping against the wall.

it quiets down to some creaking, with dull thumps every now and then.

baxter picks up the pace of his thrusts, spurred on by all your sounds from the other room and derek's lewd expressions.

derek whimpers, his moans and cries barely muffled by his hand and when baxter's hips slam into his repeatedly, he can't hold onto his barrage of moans and whines, babbling nonsense.

baxter leans over him, forcing his legs against his chest so he can whisper in derek's ear, stuffing his fingers down derek's throat, his middle and ring fingers pressing on his tongue.

"shh, darling. they'll hear us..." baxter purrs, although he laughs and nods his head to the side, "although, i think being quiet is a bit useless for all of us at this point."

derek whimpers around baxter's fingers, drool pooling in his mouth. he closes his lips around the digits and sucks, swallowing, dragging his tongue along baxter's fingers seductively..

"god." baxter grunts, his face scrunching up in pleasure.

his hips thrust up into derek's g-spot, his thrusts shallow as they both get closer and closer to finishing.

baxter pulls his fingers from derek's lips, a string of spit connecting derek's lips to the digits before it breaks, his hand slipping between their bodies to stroke derek's weeping cock, pre-cum pooling along the valley of his abs...

baxter captures derek in a sloppy kiss, neither of them really trying to hold back their sounds anymore. and from the sounds of it, you and cove aren't worried about being quiet either, your moans more frequent and totally unrestrained.

"i'm gonna-" derek pants, his nails dragging down baxter's shoulder.

"go ahead. cum. cum for me." baxter growls, his hand abusing derek's sensitive tip, making short strokes.

derek's legs shake on either side of him, his eyes rolling as he cums into baxter's hand. baxter groans, his hips stuttering as derek clenched around him, filling the condom.

they melt into each other, their chests rising and falling, and their heavy breathing match.

baxter turns his head to the side, seeing the sky turn from night to early morning..

"i'll.." he pants, pushing himself off derek's chest. "i'll run a bath... wanna join me?"

[trans-pickles]

idea that i've been brewing but probs won't have time to write but based off my terrible kieran was part of the gang/it was the o'driscolls that killed eliza and isaac - isaac lives but is raised as an o'driscoll with a sort of paternal relationship with kieran and tries to rescue him from the vdls - which is when arthur finds out he's alive. kieran and arthur awkwardly forced into co-parenting situation and fall in love along the way

tbh it makes sense to me, from what kieran says in game colm is no stranger to pressing prisoners into service. love the idea that it's almost this dark mirror of arthur's situation with dutch, where colm would act like isaac is a son to him but only when he really needs something from him which is actually almost exactly like dutch oops but it's this sort of implicit threat that with the o'driscolls, you pull your weight and make yourself useful, otherwise, you know...

isaac doesn't exactly have anywhere to go so when kieran "joins" he immediately finds a kindred spirit. maybe colm has taught him to shoot and fight and kill, but kieran teaches him about horses and fishing and bird calls. at this point isaac doesn't remember much about arthur. maybe he resents him for leaving him and his mother to die. maybe he kind of holds him on a pedestal and keeps this childish idea that someday his dad is gonna save him but he's starting to get a little too old to believe it as much as he did. maybe it's all just foggy in his mind. either way, after kieran is captured isaac is furious. colm shows no intention of going to save him and isaac is STEAMING when colm has the audacity to say that kieran better not talk.

if colm isn't gonna do something then isaac sure is, so he susses out where the gang is holed up and does his very best to free kieran. but obviously he can't get far with a malnourished and somewhat delirious straggler and he refuses to leave him behind. he's caught obviously, and in the scuffle kieran calls his name, and of course when something goes wrong arthur needs to be called over, and through a whole bunch of shouting (and afterwards, some awkward conversation) everything is pieced together.

isaac being an o'driscoll is kind of what clues them in to the fact that kieran wasn't really lying about not being a huge fan of colm himself. i mean, if they would kill eliza and keep her young son prisoner then they'd certainly keep kieran on after killing his old gang. he gets cut loose without even being threatened with gelding! and by now he's more willing to talk anyway - isaac being under the vdl's protection and thus unable to be caught in the crossfire makes him more willing to sic them on the o'driscolls. he barely even processes the REASON they've suddenly started trusting him until he actually listens to some of the breathless questions arthur is asking as he practically shakes isaac.

as soon as he hears isaac's name arthur is struck with a pang of sadness. but then he sees the kid, does some quick math in his head, remembers how there was only the one grave... it's seeing isaac's face that clinches it for him. dark grey eyes like his mother's, a scowling mouth that must look just like arthur's as he shouts at bill to let him go. arthur realizes just in time that oh yeah, this guy is invading their camp and he's dangerously close to losing his son again so he screams at everyone to put their goddamn guns away and immediately just assaults isaac with a barrage of questions.

it's a very long night for everyone. when everything is cleared up and after arthur has finished crushing isaac in his giant hug he has to accept the fact that someone else raised his kid. he doesn't know whether to resent kieran for having isaac's affection or just be happy that at least in these past few years he's had a better role model than colm (depending how long kieran has been with the o'driscolls... idk what's better, him joining up when isaac is already a teen or him being colm's whipping boy when isaac is first encountered). but arthur of course has to play nice with kieran but he slowly grows to appreciate the calming influence he has on isaac.

kieran for his part is having mixed feelings on actually meeting arthur for the first time. whatever feelings isaac had about arthur, kieran DEFINITELY was told about them. it's odd to finally meet the man in the flesh, especially since he's the one who KIDNAPPED him and threatened to kill him!!! but he kind of starts seeing how hard it is for arthur to accept the whole situation and starts tentatively trying to get closer to him. he doesn't want to... give him pointers, exactly, for fear that arthur will think he's being patronizing, but he'll sort of gently mention things isaac likes, and in turn arthur starts to swallow his pride and seek kieran out for these things.

the funniest thing is isaac seeing the two of them slowly start to get along and realizing exactly what's happening. i imagine he'd get into some kind of parent-trap shenanigans to try to speed things up and they somehow work despite them being horrendously planned.

[sissylittlefeather]

I finished it! This is part of my main Elvis x fem!reader series. It goes between Baby, What's Your Name and Always, Honey. I'm sorry I'm writing these all out of order, but this is just the way they've come out of me. As always, feel free to imagine Elvis or Austin!Elvis. Let me know if you like it!

I really look forward to interacting with people who read my stuff, so feel free to drop me a note 😁

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, etc etc etc

Goodnight, Sweetheart

There's a quiet but urgent knock on your dorm room door. You turn and look at Margie.

"Were you expecting someone?" She shakes her head.

"Nope." You shrug. Oh well, maybe it's someone with the wrong room number. As you walk to the door, the knocking gets more urgent and you start to get a little nervous.

You pull open the door and Elvis steps into the room, closing the door quickly behind him.

"Elvis, what are you doing here?! How did you get in here?!" This is a girls' dorm on campus at an all-girls college.

"Hey, I'm Elvis Presley. I make magic happen, baby." He holds your face in his hands and kisses you deeply. Margie clears her throat, slides her shoes on, and collects her purse.

"I suddenly remembered that I need to be somewhere." She slips out of the room, shooting you a wink on her way out. Since you hooked up with Elvis after his show two weeks ago, she hasn't let you talk about anything else.

"She seems like a good roommate." Elvis laughs in a way that seems to fill the room up with joy. He walks over to your bed and flops himself down in a half sitting, half laying position.

"So, darlin', what have you been up to since I saw ya last?" Your heart flutters at the sight of him on your bedspread. He seems to have grown into his manhood in the time since you were together. Or maybe you're just acutely aware of it because you're the one who made him a man. Either way, the real answer to his question is that you've been missing him desperately. Even though you only had the one night together, it was quite a night, and you've thought about it every day since. Still, you never expected to see him again.

"Oh, just this and that. Going to class and such." You walk over and sit down on the other side of your bed. He reaches out and moves your hair behind your ear.

"My little studious sweetheart."

Your heart skips several beats. Did he just call you his sweetheart? But he probably calls everyone his sweetheart. You start to wonder how many girls he's been with since his first time with you. Two weeks likely feels like a lifetime in his fast-paced world.

"What about you? Played a lot of shows?"

"That's an understatement. Sometimes we do 3 or 4 a day."

"Oh wow. You must be exhausted." He smiles and picks up your hand, kissing the back of it gently. Your stomach flip-flops with the feeling of his lips on you. Still, you pull your eyebrows together in a frown.

"Elvis, why are you here?"

"Can't a guy come see a pretty girl when he has a moment of free time?" He puts on his stage smile and winks at you.

"Elvis. Really. I never expected to see you again."

His face falls and he looks down at your hand in his. He seems to be contemplating whether he should give you a real answer. He turns your hand over and presses his lips to the center of your palm.

"I missed you." He mumbles into your hand. A warm smile spreads across your face.

"You did?"

"I really did. I've thought about you every day for the past two weeks. All those nights in hotel rooms alone after shows... I just wished I knew how to get a hold of you." So he wasn't with a bunch of girls. Another thought pops into your head.

"How did you find me?" He does a sheepish grin.

"I-I I called the school and told them I wanted to send you flowers. And I really did want to! But then I decided to just come over here instead." You laugh and lean against him on the bed.

"Flowers are nice, but this is better."

His eyes darken and he puts his hand in your hair, holding the back of your head.

"I agree." He leans in and kisses you passionately, parting your lips just enough to slide his tongue into your mouth. You grab the front of his jacket and pull him toward you, leaning fully into his kiss. He lays you down on the bed next to him, leaning over you to keep kissing you, his hand moving up and down your hip and stomach. He pulls back from the kiss and looks you in the eyes, seemingly asking for permission to touch you more. You put your hand on his and slide it up to your chest. That's all the permission he needs. Now his hand is under your sweater and bra, his thumb grazing your nipple. You sit up and pull the sweater over your head and off. He removes your bra a lot easier this time. You push his jacket off of his shoulders and go to work unbuttoning his black lace shirt. This whole time, you're kissing anytime you can, your lips meeting in a blend of tenderness and passion. He starts kissing down your face, then your neck, then your body until he gets to your breasts. He playfully teases your nipples with his tongue. He's a lot bolder in his exploration of your body this time around and you revel in the pleasure of his mouth and hands on you. Eventually, he unzips your skirt and slides it down your thighs, going immediately back up to do the same with your panties. He stops and laughs a little when he gets to them, though.

"What?"

"I'm just thinking about you throwing these on the stage. You know you started something. It happens all the time now."

"Oh, it does?" Your voice catches a little and he notices. He looks at you thoughtfully.

"Yours are the only ones I've ever kept, though." Warmth spreads through you at the thought of him only wanting to hold onto yours. He goes back to pulling your panties down, slowly sliding them down your legs and over your feet. He holds your foot in his hand and softly kisses your ankle. Then, he makes his way up your leg, dropping his lips periodically to plant soft kisses on your calf and thigh. He kisses the inside of your other thigh and then looks up at you smiling, like he's had an idea. You're not sure where he's going with all this kissing, but you love the feeling of his lips on your skin, so you don't argue. Finally, he lowers his head and kisses you right on your center.

"Oh!" You let out a small gasp. No one has ever put their mouth there before and the sensation was delicious. When he hears the sound you make, he smiles and does it again, this time lingering a little longer on you. You arch your back and a small moan escapes your lips. He's thoroughly enjoying the effect this is having, so when he does it a third time he adds his tongue to the mix, moving it like you instructed him to move his thumb last time.

"Elvis, fuck!" You cry out, overwhelmed by the feeling of his mouth on you. You've never experienced pleasure like this before and you know you won't last long if he keeps this up. He pulls back from you for a second and you try to catch your breath. He tilts his head to the side, watching your chest heaving as you gasp for air. Then, he takes two fingers and slides them into you as he dips his head down and licks you hard again. He continues pushing his fingers into you as he makes circles with his tongue.

"OH GOD!" You grab the top of his hair and grind into him uncontrollably as your climax slams into you, pushing electric bolts of ecstasy out to your fingertips and back again to the place where his tongue is still moving. His fingers become inexplicably wetter and your legs shake.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God!" You continue to cry out. Finally he pulls back, laughing.

"Nah, it's still just Elvis." You explode into a cascade of giggles both at what he just said and the way he just made you feel.

"Where did you learn that?" You ask, still breathing heavily.

"Well, I'd heard of it before, but I just really wanted to kiss you there and you liked it so much I didn't stop."

"Never stop." You laugh and he laughs with you again.

"Was it too much? Did I knock you out?"

"Oh no." You look at him playfully, "Get up here and finish what you started."

You move to take his pants off, but your hands are trembling. He stands up and lets them fall to the floor, climbing back on top of you excitedly. He puts one hand on either side of your head and leans in to kiss you deeply, rolling his hips forward and pushing his erection against your leg. You whimper a little at the feeling of him being so close to where you want him. Finally, he reaches down and lines himself up with you. You're about to go crazy with need while he takes his time. You can tell by the smirk on his face that he's having fun driving you wild.

"What do you want, baby?"

You moan into his mouth and manage to whisper, "you... I want you..."

He kisses you one last time before he pushes into you as deep as he can. This time you moan together, your foreheads pressed against each other, and he picks up a steady rhythm. Your sweat mixes with his as your bodies move in tandem. He slides in and out of you, pushing deeper and deeper, his hips slamming against yours. His length is exactly right to hit the most sensitive places inside of you. After a few minutes in this position, he rolls over onto his back and smiles at you, ready for you to get on top, since it's what you did last time.

"Uh-uh. Sit up." You gesture for him to scoot back. He moves to sit with his back against the wall at the head of your bed, excitement in his eyes. You put your hands on his shoulders and a knee on either side of his hips, lowering yourself onto him. He moans as he slides into you slowly and deeply. The difference in position is subtle, but it's enough for him to notice.

"Mmmm" he closes his eyes, leans his head back, and bites his lower lip. You lean in and kiss him on the cheek while you move up and down on him. He smiles, but keeps his eyes closed. You stop bouncing and start grinding your hips into him, rolling back and forth, pushing him deeper and deeper.

"Oh fuck, baby." His eyes pop open and he watches you move, bringing his hands up to cup your breasts and then run down your rib cage to your hips.

"Honey, I'm close," he whispers into your hair. Without further warning, he flips you over again and pounds into you, kissing your neck and shoulders as he does. You wrap your legs around him, feeling the heat of his skin on yours. Finally, he cries out, cussing loudly and shuddering into you.

He kisses you on the lips and jaw and neck and then lays his head on your chest. You lay there together, breathing heavily, you running your fingers through his hair. After a while, you realize his breathing is measured and steady. He's fallen asleep on your chest. You smile to yourself. He really must've been tired. Hopefully, Margie found somewhere else to stay tonight because it doesn't look like he's going anywhere any time soon. You gently roll him off of you onto his back and sneak away to the bathroom. When you come back, you slide your panties back on and slip into bed with him, snuggling into his shoulder. Just as you're about to drift off to sleep, you feel his lips on your forehead.

"Goodnight, sweetheart..."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taglist: @itlover8000 @deniseinmn @elvisalltheway101

Want to be added to the Taglist? Let me know!

[couldawouldashoulda50]

This is Part One of my entry for the wonderful @cellythefloshie's birthday BINGO, featuring Matthew Knies (I know he was past the 2018 cutoff but celly gave me the green light for him). Although I did get bingo with my 5 tropes (Virginity, Age Gap, Secret Lovers, Meet Cute, Pining), the 5 are spread across Part One and Two. I am finishing Part Two soon, and then there might be a smaller third part - I just haven't figured out the fine art of writing smaller fics yet but I'm working on it. Nevertheless HAPPY (early) BIRTHDAY CELLY! I hope you enjoy this ❤️

Warnings/Notes - profanity, toxic parenting, parent estrangement. This part mainly covers the initial development of Matthew and the OC

OC Face Claim - Anna Katharina

Approx Word Count - 5.7k

August, 2024

Well, this is a huge fucking mistake… Lana thought to herself, forcing a smile as she sat across from her date.

She chastised herself further in her mind. Shit—I can't even remember his name. Was it Terry…or Jerry? Wait���Phil? No, he was last week. Fuck.

Against her better judgment, Lana allowed her arm to be twisted by her beloved brother to go on yet another blind date.

"Just try, Lana—just try again," he'd say. Now, she was wasting away across from this person, who was blathering about a subject that she had already forgotten about, alongside his name.

Lana rotated the highball glass with her fingertips, as she pretended to show interest in the man's one-sided conversation. Although her eyes appeared to be focused on his face, she was actually gazing out the window, just over the man's shoulder. From the 51st floor of the ManuLife Centre, the view of that particular evening boasted a magnificent August sunset, which added to the magical twilight of the Toronto city skyline.

Lana pouted in her mind. Why can't I be sitting here admiring the view with someone I love? Or even like? Attracted to, maybe?

It was from these moments of desperation, or weakness—whichever it was—that she found herself in this blind date situation to begin with.

She loved her brother, Andrew, for trying to set her up with a decent guy to develop a connection with. Lana thought it was reasonable that he might know a little more about men and dating since Andrew was in a loving relationship with Jason, his long-time partner.

She thought it was reasonable mainly because Lana had never dated anyone.

As in never, ever, ever.

Based on the non-success of the past men that Andrew sent her way, Lana felt her relationship status would not be changing anytime soon either.

Lana snapped back to reality just in time to catch what's-his-name staring at her tits as he finished his sentence.

She smiled demurely as she studied his expression. She really had not heard a word he had said, and it did not appear that he was awaiting a response from her. Seizing the opportunity, she excused herself and headed off in the direction of the ladies' room.

She turned back around to glance at her date. He was already otherwise occupied, ogling a nearby female server.

In the confines of the washroom stall, Lana swiped open her phone to remind herself of the name of the man she regretted suggesting to meet at one of her favorite restaurants.

Upon finding it, she muttered "Darren."

Lana responded to a text her brother had sent her earlier, asking how things were going.

L - Do you think that Jason can start vetting these guys before you send them my way? Personality of a piece of cardboard. I think I actually may have lost consciousness while he rambled on…

Andrew must have been waiting for her message, as he promptly responded.

A- Jason and I love you but we're done with sending you men. Coming to breakfast tomorrow?

Lana smiled at her brother's message. He always teased her saying she wouldn't have the foggiest clue what to do with a man anyway.

L - Love you both too. Breakfast is a no-go. Taking a client to view some condos. TTYL

A- Msg me when you get home

Lana exited the stall and glanced at her reflection as she washed her hands. She pondered what method she would use this time to send Darren packing.

Interestingly, most men never bothered to call once she handed them her business card anyway.

They seemed to trip over the word "Owner", especially of one of the most prestigious real estate brokerages in Toronto.

As they wrapped up their date, Lana cordially offered her business card with her contact information. Darren glanced at her card and then back at her. His expression gave her all the information she needed to know about the man standing before her.

Other than "Owner", there was a second word that was a lingering fact about Lana. A word that had begun to plague her mind and body more and more. She always wondered how a man would react, if in fact they were ever able to look past the first word, and get to know her more.

That second word was virgin.

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Lana and her older brother Andrew grew up in a small, close-knit community approximately two hours northwest of Toronto.

Their parents were cold, strict, and controlling towards their children. Although they made sure Andrew and Lana had everything they needed, there were always strings attached with everything they were provided.

Andrew was intelligent, strong-willed, and independent from an early age. Being 5 years younger, Lana idolized her handsome older brother. In turn, he adored her and always pushed her to succeed in everything she tried. Their bond became even stronger as their parents became even more controlling with Lana as she approached her high school years.

Andrew clashed badly with their parents, experiencing constant conflict and turmoil while living under the same roof. Andrew was determined to leave as soon as he could. He worked multiple jobs while still managing to excel academically. After earning as much money as he could, Andrew left to study architecture abroad at 18.

Once Andrew departed, his parents no longer acknowledged his existence. Andrew always felt a tremendous amount of guilt and remorse knowing he had deserted his beloved little sister. From afar, he did his best to help his sister navigate their parents' increasingly stern and uncompromising attitude toward her.

Meanwhile, Lana was experiencing rapid growth spurts at the age of 13. She was long, lean, and had natural curves which enhanced her athletic build. Her mother often shunned her appearance, making her feel that her natural beauty and her blossoming figure were a detriment and a cross to bear.

As she entered high school, it would mark the hardest time of her life.

Lana's mother drowned her with archaic myths and cautionary tales about boys, sex, disease, and unplanned pregnancy. She would be forever "ruined" if she gave in to having relations out of wedlock. As the ever-dutiful daughter, Lana absorbed everything her parents said and never scrutinized or disobeyed them.

The teenage boys at her school, with their raging desires fueling their comments as she walked by them, did little to convince Lana that her mother might be wrong in her teachings.

Teenage girls were in some cases worse than the boys. The behavior of the girls at Lana's school was full of envy and competitiveness. She often felt ostracized and alone during her first weeks and months of high school.

Lana would message Andrew in tears in the stall of the girls' washroom between classes. He was always there for her with words of comfort but would only allow her just a few tears of pity. Andrew would then coach her on how she would need to rise above it all. Step by step, Lana put her head down, studied hard, and became active in student council and various athletic programs.

Lana developed a no-nonsense type of attitude which served her well in her secondary school years, as well as keeping the peace at home. She managed to forge a few solid friendships with those who were authentic, intelligent, and did not concern themselves with trends or being popular.

At the end of high school, Lana was rewarded for her diligence and focus by excelling in academics, athletics, and the arts. She received a full scholarship to enter the Law program at the University of Toronto.

Fast-forwarding through her first two years in university, she maintained the same steadfast and hard-working mentality that was part of her nature. However, Lana soon discovered that Law did not ignite her passion. With Andrew carving his own path in architectural design and serving as her constant guide and mentor, she uncovered an unexpected love for real estate.

She landed a paid internship with a brokerage firm owned by an older gentleman by the name of Reine Schmidt. Reine immediately recognized Lana's dogged determination, her intellect, and her willingness to learn.

Reine taught Lana everything he knew. He had a proven track record of understanding trends to predict future outcomes, alongside his charisma, sharp wit, and masterful negotiation skills. With the guidance of her brother, Lana eventually followed her instincts and dropped out of university to work alongside her older mentor.

Lana's parents were furious and, in a fit of true toxicity, they severed ties with their daughter completely as they had done with their son.

As the cloud of devastation from the estrangement dissipated, Reine became a much-needed father figure in Lana's life. He provided her with shelter, which was merely a back room of the brokerage office. He helped her with the bare minimum, just enough to set her off in the right direction. The rest, Lana would have to work on and figure out for herself.

And she did. As the years went on, Lana gained a reputation throughout the GTA, being touted as Reine Schmidt's brilliant and beautiful protégé. She was elegant and poised while being creative and shrewd in her negotiation tactics. By the time she was thirty, Lana had her own substantial property portfolio, worth millions of dollars as the Toronto real estate market exploded.

When Reine became too ill to fulfill his responsibilities at his firm, he appointed Lana to step in on an interim basis. She did not know it at the time, but Reine had already decided to will her the firm. He just needed to make doubly sure that she was ready.

Lana remained by Reine's side as his illness progressed. He had no family to speak of, and he always said that he was not in the business of making friends. But he had grown to love Lana like a daughter, and although he never said as much, he was grateful that she made sure he was not alone during his last moments on earth.

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Lana awoke the following morning with the memory of her near abysmal date from the night before all but washed away. Retrieving her cell from her nightstand, she broke her own rule about no screens until after she had completed her morning Pilates. She just wanted to check if what's-his-name had messaged.

He had not.

Her business card had become like a detection device which helped identify those that would waste her time. Moreover, she was pleased that she could still calculate risk and probability by simply observing someone's non-verbal cues and other subtle behaviors.

Lana laid back on her pillow and gazed out her floor-to-ceiling windows in her bedroom. Her panoramic view of the city displayed all the colors of the sunrise of a late summer's morning. But the sunrise triggered a pang of loneliness within her. The sunset had a similar effect on her last night, and now the sunrise was having a go. She wanted someone to lie with and enjoy the wondrous city views in the morning. She longed to have someone to sit with at dinner and have them witness the perfection of a sunset by her side. She wanted to feel what it's like to crave someone and have them equally yearn for her.

Pushing her lonely thoughts aside, Lana yawned and stretched and slid out of bed, turning her phone off until it was time to leave for the office.

Any other morning, Lana would have opted to take transit, walk, or even run to her office. She quickly realized the good fortune of driving to work that day in an air-conditioned vehicle. The humidex was already climbing and it was only just 7 a.m. Another sweltering summer day in the city had begun.

As she drove, she mentally pre-planned her morning. Yesterday, a last-minute request came in from a very important client-turned-friend to view some condo listings in the downtown area. What left Lana perplexed was who the request was from.

Lana's mind drifted to another thought while idling at a traffic light.

Just two more weeks—two more weeks until I'm off and I'll press pause on the whole "trying to find a mate" search. Maybe I'm just meant to be alone. Maybe you just need to sleep with someone once and that'll be enough… maybe he's just not out there…. Lana mulled over these thoughts as she ventured south on St. George Street.

It had become a custom for Lana to flee the city at the beginning of September and spend a few weeks at the expansive lakeside home that she co-owned with her brother. With 5+ acres and an exceptional lakefront, it was a place where Lana could experience quiet for a while. That is, quiet after their friends, colleagues, and in some cases clients, descended onto the property for a popular get-together for the Labor Day weekend.

Arriving at her office before 7:30, Lana slipped into her leather chair and dove into a landslide of unread emails.

As the office began to fill, she left her office to greet her assistant and enjoy a morning chat. To Lana, this was one of her most favorite times of the day. Despite her upbringing, Lana sought connection with her professional family and was nurturing and compassionate to all of her associates. In turn, her staff were fiercely loyal to her and it showed in their combined success at the firm.

Lana returned to her office to tie up a few loose ends before her appointment arrived.

Ainsley tapped on Lana's office door, letting her know her 9 a.m. had arrived, and asked if she would like them escorted to her office. In her mind, Lana tripped over the word "them" as she was only expecting one person. Shaking off the confusion, she declined Ainsley's offer and thanked her as she made her way down the corridor.

As she approached the reception area, she was prepared to see Aryne Tavares but not her handsome husband John and another even more striking man standing next to the couple.

Lana's professional-turned-friendly relationship with the Tavares' began with helping Aryne navigate the Toronto housing market when John was traded from the Islanders to Toronto. Although John was present during some of the preliminary preference discussions, Aryne always appreciated how Lana focused mainly on her and her needs during the conversation, as opposed to her husband. Oftentimes, it was the opposite with other firms and their agents who wanted to talk hockey or suck up to the player in the hopes they might be able to drum up more business for themselves.

For several years, Lana's name had become the number one recommended by the majority of Toronto WAGs who were either in search of shorter-term furnished rentals or more permanent homes. She understood and made it clear (while treading lightly) that where the player-husbands were often making the salary allowing the upscale and sometimes super luxurious homes, it was the wives and families that had to live in them day in and day out. As such, Lana's firm cornered the market for finding suitable homes for Toronto's professional athletes and their families. Due to the unique demands, she created a specialized team and trained them specifically to work with sports agents, significant others, and the player's surrounding support system.

Lana's eyes lit up, as did Aryne's, as they greeted each other and hugged warmly.

"What an amazing surprise! Good morning!" Lana gushed, first embracing Aryne and then John.

Lana approached the third individual standing slightly behind John. He was taller than the veteran player by a couple of inches, visibly younger, and was extremely broad and fit.

Lana thought she recognized his face but couldn't quite place it.

Aryne made the introductions. "This is Matthew Knies. Matthew, this is Lana — she's a friend and has been our real estate guru for a number of years."

Matthew's cheeks were already burning when he first glimpsed at Lana. He was positive he had never seen a woman nearly as beautiful as she was.

But when Lana turned and looked directly into his eyes while extending her hand, that's when his insides fell apart. He had difficulty swallowing, and he realized his mouth was slightly agape.

Lana squeezed his hand warmly. "I thought I recognized you. It's really wonderful to meet you, Matthew."

Trying to pull himself together, he shook her hand and with a dry throat, he squeaked out, "Nice to meet you too."

As Lana escorted the group towards her office, Aryne explained that she and John just wanted to help sort through some of the available condo listings for Matthew.

Lana smiled and explained to Aryne and John her initial confusion when the request for condo listings appeared under the "Tavares" file. After all, she had already helped Aryne find their ideal home twice as their family grew.

Matthew had resided with the Tavares family at the beginning of the 2023/24 season and later moved to a rental unit downtown mid-way through the season. Unfortunately, for various reasons, he was not at all happy in that building and wanted to start the upcoming season in more suitable place. Although it was not discussed in their meeting, the main reason being that Matthew and his now ex-girlfriend had parted ways in that same unit, and it was not an amicable ending to say the least.

Lana appreciated having John and Aryne there to assist Matthew. In recent years, other members of her sales team had primarily handled the real estate needs of younger male players. Time was ticking before the start of the season, and Lana wanted to be efficient in pinpointing exactly what would suit Matthew. John's input would be valuable in considering practical factors, especially regarding proximity to Scotiabank Arena and the practice rink in the southwest end of the city.

As Matthew sat diagonally across from Lana, he pretended to show interest in the selected listings which Lana walked them through on the large monitor mounted on her wall.

But it was only Lana that held his attention.

Matthew wanted to absorb every detail of her from head to toe. He wanted to stare and drink in every detail of her face.

Not wanting to appear obvious, he made sure his eyes didn't linger too long when they wandered to catch another glimpse of her as she pointed out various features in each listing.

Matthew had not even realized that his auto-pilot responses were in full swing. He barely recalled agreeing to see a handful of ready-to-show condos in the surrounding area and that it would be Lana herself giving him a tour of each unit.

Lana rose from her desk. "So Matthew, if you're alright for time now, it sounds like we'll be spending the morning together."

Matthew smiled as he silently willed his cock not to twitch at the very thought of being with Lana in any capacity, morning, noon, or night.

"Sure — absolutely… I'm all yours."

With the feeling that his heart was in his throat, Matthew realized how true those words had become in just half an hour after meeting this siren.

Lana stopped by Ainsley's desk and quietly gave some instructions for tasks that could be taken care of while she was out. Ainsley couldn't help but look past Lana ever so subtly at the handsome young player as she nodded her head.

Sensing that Matthew had caught her pretty assistant's eye, Lana gave Ainsley a knowing smile. "You want me to find out if he's dating anyone?" she quietly asked.

A bashful smile spanned Ainsley's face. "Oh my god, he's just so hot… I don't know… I guess it would be nice just to know if he's got a girlfriend?" she replied under her breath.

Ever so coolly, Lana gave Ainsley a discreet wink. "I'll see what I can find out and report back later, ok?"

Ainsley beamed, barely able to suppress her excitement as she nodded enthusiastically.

Lana joined the group as they meandered down the corridor towards the elevators. Little did she know that this little "meet cute" with Matthew Knies would soon change her entire world.

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Later in the day, Matthew arrived at the building of his close friend and teammate, Joseph Woll. He pressed the intercom button and within seconds, the door to the lobby clicked open and Matthew made his way towards the elevator.

Minutes later, Matthew was at Joe's door, which he had left propped slightly open inviting him just to come on through. Matthew always appreciated Joe's easy-going and considerate nature and felt grateful for his friend and how they both seemed to naturally anchor each other.

He walked through to the open living room and kitchen area where Joseph was working away assembling his most recent Lego project — the famous Concorde aircraft.

Joe glanced over the tail of his newest Lego set towards Matthew. "How did it go — see anything you liked?"

Fuck… yeah, only it wasn't a condo, Matthew mused to himself.

"Not sure… I guess nothing really stood out," Matthew replied as he flopped onto the nearby couch. "Might take a few more times… I just want to pick the right one."

Without looking up from snapping a series of small blocks together, Joe continued. "Too bad there's not anything available in this building…" He searched the table for the next appropriate piece before adding, "…but then again if you moved in, maybe there's such a thing as seeing someone too much…"

Matthew looked at his friend with a pained expression. "Ouch — fuck, bro… is that what you think?" he chuckled.

Joe shook his head laughing. "No… I just like getting a rise out of you. Oh—and just letting you know that we're meeting up with the rest of the guys at the bar around 8 tonight. I guess it's guys only now… the girlfriends opted to do something else."

"Who's all going? Mints, Cowboy…?"

Joe continued, "Me, you, Bobbo, Mints, Cowboy, but then there's a few vets coming — Max, Muzz… Doaner I think. It's shaping up to be a fun night."

Matthew stretched and yawned. "Sounds like it. Alright… fuck — I need a nap. Can I crash here for a bit? I don't feel like going back to my place."

Joe was concentrating on reading the instructions for the rudder for the plane. "Be my guest… we'll head out to the bar together then. I think you've even got a pair of shorts and a shirt here so you can change. Crash as long as you want."

Matthew traipsed down the hallway to the second bedroom and fell backward onto the mattress. He was tired, but his mind bounced in a million directions, wondering about what Lana was doing now and how her day would end. He wondered if she went home to a perfect husband or significant other who loved her and treated her right, or if she was with some prick who would never realize just how amazing she is.

Matthew's insides were starting to twist and flutter each time his memory pulled him back to the seemingly insignificant moments of that day. Sitting next to her in her car. Chatting seamlessly while stuck in traffic. Riding the elevator with her, or holding the door for her whenever they entered or exited a prospective condo.

His mind traveled back to the quick lunch they had, where Lana couldn't stop laughing after Matthew told her a story from his childhood. When she continued to chuckle about it for the rest of their time together, Matthew thought he might melt with desire right then.

Matthew finally pushed past the restlessness he had begun to feel and drifted off into a deep sleep.

Later that evening at an upscale sports bar, the table of hockey players cheered when the servers presented the group with the most bizarre and fascinating Caesar concoctions. The popular Canadian cocktail was adorned with everything from pulled pork sandwiches and burgers on skewers to tempura prawns and dessert options.

The group's boisterous laughter marked the upbeat and optimistic mood of the group with the start of a new season just around the corner.

Matthew tried to mimic the mood but he simply wasn't there in mind or spirit. He even ignored being chirped by a few of the rookies for nursing his Corona and avoiding the subsequent tequila shot altogether.

Matthew had a close friendship burgeoning with former rookie Bobby McMann, whom he sat next to at the table. Bobby noticed Matthew's glum demeanor but initially assumed it was over the demise of his recent relationship.

Bobby clinked the clear glass neck of his beer bottle against Matthew's, which was still virtually untouched. "It'll get better, man—try not to let it drag you down too far."

Matthew nodded and smiled to acknowledge his friend's support.

Joe, who was sitting across the table, silently wondered about the change in his friend's mood. Yes, Matthew had been through some turmoil in the past months with ending a relationship that had gone off the rails. However, after the dust had settled in the off-season, his mood and outlook were full of confidence once again. Joe knew Matthew was really geared up about finding a new place quickly, so perhaps his low mood was a result of not having any luck that day. It didn't quite compute in Joe's head, but he would keep his thoughts to himself, for now at least.

When Matthew quietly announced to those sitting nearest to him that he was done for the night and was heading home, Joe and Shane (Doan) walked him out just to make sure their good friend was alright before taking off. Matthew assured them he was, that he was just tired.

He ordered an Uber and was back home in no time, but the change in location to his quiet condo only exacerbated him more. Pulling out Lana's business card, adorned with her headshot that he couldn't avert his eyes from, he placed it on the coffee table. He picked up his guitar, a not-so-new hobby that Matthew freed his mind with, much like his buddy Joe did with Lego, and began to pick at the strings. He was pissed with himself as he tried, and failed, to think of anything else other than contacting his new and unexpected crush.

Setting the guitar aside, he picked up his phone, entered Lana's cell number into his contacts and sent her a brief message, beginning with an apology hoping it wasn't too late to reach out to her.

Matthew was pleasantly surprised that she responded within minutes. He asked Lana a series of questions, all about viewing more condos, but it was mostly to establish whether he could reach out to her specifically. She responded that indeed he could, and she would do her best to accommodate his schedule in the coming days. Matthew wasted no time in setting up a time with Lana for the following day, and then two days after that.

He breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.

Following a silent moment, Matthew then shook his head and muttered to himself to get a fucking grip and that he was acting completely ridiculous by already pining over a woman that he didn't even know.

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As the end of August approached, Lana and Matthew had spent a considerable amount of time sorting through listings and narrowing down options to view. Lana encouraged Matthew to be selective, as it was important for him to be happy in the space where he would spend the majority of the next eight or nine months.

On the other hand, she knew the start of the season was sneaking up quickly and she hoped, for his sake, that he would find a place before training camp, media days and everything else that goes with it was upon him.

Matthew secretly knew this and sometimes felt he was playing with fire, appearing either indecisive or hard to please with the places Lana showed him. With this in mind, Matthew quickly finalized his decision on a place and chose a second one as a backup.

He also wanted to take the plunge and ask Lana out for dinner to say thank-you.

The following afternoon, Matthew sat next to Lana on the sleek, white sofa in her office as she walked him through the paperwork. The air between them was comfortable and relaxed, but the professional nature of their relationship was still very prominent. While initialing and signing wherever Lana indicated with her elegantly simple manicured nails, Matthew tried to ignore the anxiousness that was swirling in his mind.

Lana had consumed his every thought since he first met her. Whether he was in the midst of strength training or skate drills, he imagined what it would feel like if she was there watching him. He thought about her in traffic, in the shower, or running out to get food. He continuously caught himself having these harmless daydreams and did his best to shoo them away in order to refocus his mind, but often he was fighting a losing battle.

With his last initial inked on the page, Lana smiled widely and extended her hand. "Congratulations, Mr. Knies—I think you'll be very happy in your new place. It really is such a great neighborhood."

"Well, thanks… yeah, I know I will. And thank you for all your help. And for being patient with me. I hope it didn't feel like I was never going to choose one… you just gave me so many great options," Matthew smiled as he shook her hand.

As they stood, Lana felt a little disappointed that this might be the last time her and Matthew crossed paths. Her initial impressions of him and his frat boy exterior had almost immediately dissolved and she found him to be very mature and he spoke with an intelligence that was far beyond his years. Oftentimes, Lana found that she genuinely looked forward to seeing him, especially the times when they decided to walk to each destination instead of fighting traffic. She had only felt this level of comfort, ease and enjoyment with a select group of people, and although she never would have expected it, she considered Matthew a friend.

If she was really being totally honest with herself, she had thought about him as a little bit more than a friend as her base female urges had only increased since she met him. Lana often fell asleep feeling frustrated, squeezing her thighs together to try and get relief from the pressure building in her core.

Lana moved towards the door, knowing she had limited time before her next meeting. “I hope you won’t be a stranger but I can only imagine how busy you’ll be once the season starts. Oh - and all the best…I hope you guys have a really great year ahead.”

Feeling that time was not on his side, Matthew’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously and stepped in close to Lana.

“Hey - well, I kind of felt like I was being a bit of a pain in the ass with monopolizing your time, so to say thanks, I - I was wondering if maybe you’d let me take you out to dinner sometime?

Lana’s eyes softened as she smiled, feeling flushed at Matthew’s invite. “Absolut - “

“Sorry to interrupt,” Ainsley appeared at the door, her eyes darted between the expression on Lana and Matthew faces. “Your 3:00 is here.” The curtness in Ainsley's voice would be unrecognizable to most, but Lana picked up on it quickly. She had all but forgotten that Ainsley had developed a crush on the young hockey player. Normally, her attractive assistant caught the attention of most guys around Matthew's age and type, but any interactions she had with Matthew thus far were strictly polite and professional.

Lana thanked her and said she would be out momentarily. She made a mental note to check in with Ainsley later, as she noticed her pursed lips before she walked stiffly down the hallway.

Lana turned back to Matthew. “How about this, I send you a note once I’m home from work and we can get something arranged, ok?

“Perfect - I guess until then…” Matthew postured for a hug which Lana gladly accepted.

For a split second in his embrace, she imagined how it would feel if his hands held her a little more firmly. Pulled her in a little more tightly.

She watched as he sauntered out into the reception area, quietly mumbling as she chastised herself.

“He’s 21…you're 32. Get your mind off of this notion, Lana.”

But for the remainder of the day, she couldn't stop the fluttery sensation in her stomach. It mystified and excited her but it was a feeling that also terrified her.

After her last meeting had wrapped up for the day, she hurriedly sent a message to Andrew and Jason. She flagged it as urgent for good measure.

L - Are either of you home tonight? Desperately needing advice - can I come by?

Jason responded first.

J - Are you ok? Already setting a place for you at the dinner table.

Andrew responded asking the same question.

Lana paused, held her breath and typed in each letter slowly.

L - I think I'm interested in someone.

There was a silence that could be felt, even over the phone.

Andrew eventually responded.

A- Jason probably fainted. You might want to pick up something stronger to drink than wine.

[hbojoel]

PLEASE write something for richie jerimovich maybe you’re carmys sister and you all work at the beef 🫶🏻🫶🏻

ANON i am overjoyed at this request. thank you so much for being my first ask and my first official post on here!!!

18+ for some elusions to sex

word count: 1.3k

pairing: richie jerimovich x f!reader (only gendered term used is sister)

Nat never wanted you in the restaurant.

Even after re-opening, the name change, the renovation–it was still something she wanted you separate from. Protected from. It was the start and end of many fights.

And you still found a way to weasel in.

Family, prep, hands; it didn't matter, but you were eager to help. To be useful. It mattered to your brother and sister, and that meant it mattered to you.

There's a shout of corner! as you walk through the swinging door. Tina's the first to see you, chopping onions with a quickness you'd never been able to master. You put in the hours, you learned the techniques, it was just something about a knife you couldn't get down. Or maybe it was the tears that sprung to your eyes no matter how many times you'd practiced. 

"Hi, baby," Tina smiles and tilts her cheek to you so you can kiss it. "Jeff is in the office, Nat's... you saw Nat, si?"

"Si, T, thank you."

Nat was in the front of house, fidgeting with the plate settings and rolled-up napkins. It must be pregnancy hormones or something because she's only gotten more nit-picky and everyone's noticing it.

Syd and Marcus greet you as you walk past them, in search of something you can't seem to find.

You peek your head in the walk-in. Nope.

Rap your knuckles against the open office door, nodding to Carmy on the phone, finding the room empty apart from him. You mouth his name but Carm's never been that good at lip-reading, so it's a benign effort. 

You push the back door open and spot him by the dumpster smoking a cigarette. 

Bingo.

"Psst," you say as you walk over to him slowly. 

He looks up at you through a cloud of smoke that doesn't hide his grimace as well as he thinks it does.

"Whadda ya doin' here? I told you to stay home. Never fuckin' listen." 

You steal the cigarette from between his fingers and wiggle it above him, grinning like the cat who got the cream.

"Not the boss of me." You quirk a brow.

Richie gets up off his feet. You instinctually back up to get a better look at his face, but he wraps an arm around your waist to hold you in place. You're craning your neck to look him in the eye, but you don't back down. You'll never hear the end of it if you do.

"Not the boss, huh?" This close, you can taste the smoke on his breath, puffing in the cold of autumn.

You bounce on your heels just slightly. "Nope," popping the P. "Not on the papers."

"You don't fuckin–" He puts distance between the two of you to throw his hands up in exasperation, "you don't even work here!"

Biting back your smile, barely, you say, "I'm family."

"Oh, you little shit," he says, and then he's on you, lifting you up and carrying you til your back hits the cold metal of his car. "Brat."

It's not exactly a secret that the two of you are an item, but there hasn't been a public announcement either. Richie had come a long way–a long way–from who he used to be, but Carmy remembered, and Sugar remembered, and that was a lot to have hanging over your head when it turned out he wanted their little sister. 

So the two of you are cautious. Never at work, which is part of the reason you shouldn't be here, part of the reason RIchie's all riled up in the first place.

He'd told you to stay at his place, promising he'd be back before dinner. That was at seven, and who's to say if you heard him correctly, in your sleep-addled state. You'll blame it on that. 

Richie's apartment was nice–he'd eaten you out on that kitchen island more times than you can count–but it was lonely. And you missed him. And maybe you had to walk or Uber your way there, and maybe he wasn't so happy with you in the streets of Chicago by yourself, and maybe it was an unspoken rule.

And maybe you had just broken it by showing up here.

"Sorry," you whisper, and kiss away any protests forming on his tongue.

He lets you, for a while, only because he missed you, too. He rubs his hands up and down your back, sure that you must be freezing in the thin pants you're in on the unforgiving cold of the trunk of his car. He pulls back and you follow his mouth blindly.

"Sweetheart."

"What?" You whine.

Richie huffs a laugh.

"You're not s'posed to be here." He cards a hand gently through your hair.

You shrug your shoulders petulantly, not meeting his eyes now. "Missed you."

Richie makes a sound like he's in pain, and then he cups your face in his hand and squeezes your cheeks together gently, like he has that cuteness-aggression thing Marcus was telling him about a while ago. You're too sweet for him.

"I missed you, too," he whispers, releasing your face to smooth back your hair and press a kiss to your forehead. "I'm in the middle of one thing and then we can go home, okay?"

You nod slowly, leaning your head into his chest. 

Richie smiles to himself. "That means you gotta get up, baby." He slaps what he can reach of your ass lightly. 

You shake your head against his heartbeat. "Carry me?"

Richie's heart hurts with how much he adores you. He might just get down on one knee right there. He picks you up and calls you baby in a scolding voice instead. If you mind, you don't make an effort to show it.

He stops and sets you gently on your feet after the short distance and opens the passenger door for you, watching as you plop down into the seat unceremoniously. 

Just five minutes. He could finish in just five minutes, and then he can take you home.

"Okay," he starts, bends down to kiss your forehead again, and you lift your head expectantly for a goodbye kiss. He gives you one. "Five minutes and I'm out, got it? I'll get you a Sprite if you want it, and then I'm all yours." 

You look up at him grinning, open-mouthed, and nod. "Keys?"

Richie pats the pockets of his jeans. "Keys, keys... they're in my locker, give me two seconds, baby, so you don't freeze out here." The car reverberates with the force of him shutting the door as he jogs back inside the Beef.

"Whatchu up to, papa?" Tina calls from the kitchen. 

"Keys," Richie shouts back, "gotta take the baby home."

Tina's behind him in record time, watching him turn his locker inside-out in his search. "Taking your girl home, huh?"

"Oh, shut up." Richie turns to face her and finds a shit-eating grin staring right at him.

"Careful, Jeff," she says as she walks away, "you'll get yourself in trouble."

Richie rolls his eyes, pockets his keys, and walks back out to you.

You open the door for him again, and he drops the keys in your lap. 

"All good?" 

"All good except Tina fuckin' knows." 

You laugh before you realize you're doing it. Richie is not so amused.

"What, that's funny? I gotta hear it at work now all 'cause you got lonely?" 

You reach your hand up and into the pocket of his leather jacket. "Everyone knows, Richie. It's okay. Go and hurry up, I'm cold."

"Shit," he swears. "Here." His jacket is draped across your shoulders and now it's him shivering, and you would protest, but it would be fruitless. Richie would get frostbite before he let you catch a cold.

One last kiss is dropped on your forehead in lieu of a goodbye. "Five minutes and I'll be back, okay?"

"Okay," you nod, hand on the door, even though Richie's already pushing it shut. "I'll time you."

[eri-pl]

It will be chaotic, because I can't force myself to make a structured post about it, I don't know why. Also sorry if my autocorrect does something stupid, I'm writing on the phone.

So, the Legendarium and causality, and good deeds, bad deeds and their results. This is the main topic of this post.

Is this post about the Legendarium? About real life? Both? Well, it surely is about the Legendarium, but not only. It's fuzzy. One of the things I like with tolkien is that such discussions get fuzzy and thinking about the books gives me insights about life.

There is a rule which I try to follow when writing or even planning something more serious (in the Legendarium context, but in general too, unless specifically going for a genre that's different): if a long-term success (in something that matters) is achieved by doing something morally wrong, those conditions must be fulfilled (not necessarily all clearly written out, but I must at least have a vague idea):

1. It could have been achieved in a good way, and it wouldn't be lesser. Or it wasn't really that important. (Because I refuse to accept "necessary evil")

2. Either something bad came out of it, or someone has to put effort into it not happening. I'm not sure how to explain it better (see later about handling other people's bad choices)... Anyway this makes the story feel more satisfying, more interesting.

3. How much of 2 is needed is proportional to how bad the thing was. Also if the character couldn't be expected to know much better, point 2 is less intense, though it's often still more interesting to have it.

I wonder how close to canon is this rule. Anyway I like it. Also, I tend to assume at least 1 when interpreting the canon, which likely influences my opinion about the Feanorians and the whole Silmaril business.

I'm not saying this is a 100% rule in real life, or even a technically 100% rule in te Legendarium, because omniscience is tricky… but it is a good rule in writing, I think, and even more so it definitely is a good rule in approaching decisions. If something can't work in a moral way, it won't work anyway or is not worth it. Nothing really worthy can be permanently lost by making the right choice. And so on.

It seems like there would be a symmetrical rule of good deeds not resulting in bad events but then we have the Children of Hurin. And what did Hurin do wrong? I have no idea.

But then, the Men are generally... And you could also look at Maedhros, but then, the exiled Noldor, and SoF in particular are also, hmm, I think "marred" is the word I should use here.

Still, I really prefer if there is something good coming of from good deeds, even distant and not seen by the person doing the good deeds.

Also, there seems to be is another rule, it's outright said. Things always turn out into a good ending, and you can either go with it or fall under it.

Example: gollum. He could have cooperated and jumped with the Ring willingly. He chose to betray Frodo, fell with the Ring anyway.

You also can, obviously, do a creative mix of going along and falling under. (Must I say: the two oldest Feanorians, it is this obvious?)

And falling under makes things more difficult for everyone, not just the person doing it.

Darn, I made this sound ugly and tyrannical. It's not. But I remember when I would say it is, and I can't explain why it is not. It's kinda like when you do a weird thing with your eye muscles and start seeing double. It's just not. I just can't explain it in a way this deserves. My apologies.

Anyway, bad choices make things difficult for everyone. Because we are connected to each other. I've already made a post about it long time ago, but generally...

Maybe if Saruman wasn't such a jerk weed have a Sauron redemption. (Maybe, it's always a maybe)

Maybe if Maglor didn't take pity on the twins, Númenor would fall much earlier and Sauron would be more successful. And so on and do forth.

It's always a maybe, and nobody determines anybody else's choices, but still, we do impact each other. It's hard to think about, because it's over if the places where a) it's worth to try b) there's no guarantee of anything... (Which are most places, I guess). Both on the Silm and in life, people are interconnected. But also everyone is responsible for their decisions.

It's hard to not blame characters (or people) too much. It's hard... In general it's wonderful but difficult, the whole concept.

And another thing tired to this very closely, tied to the interconnectedness (is this a word?) is unearned suffering and Hurin and Nienor and Miriel (both tbh) and Feanor back before he was a jerk and many others.

Sometimes we get the outcome of someone else's bs without even consenting to it. Why? I suppose it's because the connectedness is now important than "not getting random bs thrown in your life". Maybe. Probably. I'm not wise, ok? I'm not sure it's my heart, but something's telling me it's something like this reason.

And what can we do

Argue. Rebel. Just take it. There are many things we can do. I'm not going to go on a rant about what Feanor (or Finwe) should have done and so on because I don't want dfw and others to have a bad time listening to me criticizing their guy, and also I wasn't in his position so I shouldn't be ranting. I should go rant at myself or something.

But the things aren't going to solve themselves or disappear. So yes, just taking it is a very noble and beautiful thing to do (and hard as... Idk what's hard. A Silmaril is hard, I guess)

Because it's so very infuriating when someone else's bs lands on your head.

Oh how I wish I could handle it better.

Back to the Legendarium. Someone handling it better generally yields results, see: the Long Peace. And probably many other situations.

And of course there are situations when the bs you have to handle is your own and if you don't handle it, it will fall of everyone else's heads. This doesn't necessarily make it easier to handle. :( Sometimes someone helps, and that's nice.

Yet another question is how realistic a book should be.

Should it portray lots of undeserved suffering, of badly handled undeserved suffering (CoH), because it's part of life? Should it portray hope triumphing against reason (B&L, and remember that Beren was just as much a Man as Turin was), to give people an escape?

I think (maybe it's rather obvious) that we need both, because depending on personality and circumstances, we need both validation and acknowledgement of our pain, and hope that things can be better. Both kinds of stories are necessary.

It may sound untrue, and sometimes I wish I was a kind of person who can live with only hopeful stories, because the day ones are what I need when I'm not doing well— but no. We do need both, at least in terms of "what most of the story consists of". We need ways to express pain without an immediate answer.

It's a sad song.

But we're gonna sing it anyway.

Until we finally get it right and the sad parts start making sense.

And let's not even get into "sad stories where people mess their lives up so much because that's how freedom works, yes, they can do that" because I have absolutely no idea what to say about those.