#I just had to get it out because it wouldn't leave my head
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split-spectrum · 2 days ago
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YOU'VE GOT TO LEARN
Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Tags: extremely dubious consent, non-con elements, explicit sexual content, exhibitionism, age gap, established relationship, jealousy, possessive!joel, softdom!joel, unprotected sex, alcohol, hair pulling
Length: 3.3K
Summary: At a client's house party, you catch yourself getting jealous of other eyes on Joel. Joel pulls you aside to show you exactly what he thinks of that.
This is my first time writing for Joel Miller, so please go easy on me <3
☆☆☆
What is it about Joel that makes him most attractive when he's stuck somewhere he doesn't want to be?
You tip back the last of your whiskey sour, gazing at the tight creases in the corners of his eyes as he nods along with the blond guy who's been talking for twenty painful minutes about the crypto market. Joel is leaning back, arms folded over his chest, his big shoulders pushing at the seams of his denim shirt.
He once told you that no one besides you could tell his emotions on his face. You'd laughed and called bullshit at the time, telling him every thought in that pretty head of his showed up plain as day on his face, but right now it doesn't seem to matter. He's been looking like he'd swallowed glass since this guy started talking, and it doesn't seem to make a bit of difference to him.
When Joel had asked if you wanted to come along to the holiday party one of his clients was having at his house, you'd said yes even after hearing that the guy was 'kind of an idiot' and you'd probably be 'bored to tears'. Joel would have skipped it, but unfortunately it was one of his biggest clients, and the invitation wasn't one he could politely decline.
Right now, though, you're sort of wishing you'd listened to him. The party stopped being fun somewhere around the second MLM scheme that had been pitched to you, and you're now counting the minutes until you'll hit the mark Joel set on the drive there: "Least a couple hours - then we can head out."
The guy takes a short pause, then launches into another tirade on bitcoin, and you realize you're going to need another drink to get through it. Joel's arm slips from around your waist as you pull away.
"Be right back, fellas. I'm going to get a refill."
Joel's brows lift as you leave him behind. "Now hold on there. Wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I let you get your own drink-"
You wave him off, trying to hold in a smirk. "No really, I need to take a lap. Stretch my legs."
He licks his lips, looks off to the side for a second before calling after you, "Grab me one on your way back, will ya?"
You smile innocently. "You got it."
After your host declines your offer to get him something, you head to the kitchen, making a little chit chat on your way to the well-stocked fridge. You decide to get Joel's beer before you return to the open bar to ask for another drink of your own. You hook your knuckles around the neck of a Modelo, no sooner closing the door to the fridge before you glance back in Joel's direction, seeing he's been joined by a few more people.
It isn't surprising. Joel's the type of guy who tends to draw attention, and not just because of his looks. He's the guy who's in charge, even when he's not in charge. People gravitate toward him; just something about his presence that makes him the most interesting thing in every room.
In spite of that, your attention isn't on him at the moment. It's on the girl making moon eyes beside him. She's tossing a long, shiny ponytail behind her shoulder and grinning ear to ear despite the fact that bitcoin boy hasn't stopped talking.
Picking up a bottle opener, you pop the cap off the beer in your hand by muscle memory, not able to tear your eyes off of them. Joel's attention is still on the host, but when she says something to him, you watch him pull his chin back to nod, holding her in the corner of his eye to give a quick smile.
Kelly, you remember. That's her name. She's the receptionist at the client's office, and she's probably seen more of Joel this month than you have.
You watch as she cranks up her smile another thousand watts, laughing at something one of the other guys in the group has said. Kelly, you think. No. Probably spells it with an i. Kelli. Probably dots it with a heart.
Your face is starting to warm up, and when someone on the other side of the kitchen counter gently asks if you're alright, you clear your throat, then reply that you're fine as you quickly open the fridge for a second Modelo. It's time for you to slow down on the whiskey.
As you make your way back to the group, you catch Kelly/Kelli's eyes and give her a subdued smile. She blinks and smiles back, suddenly looking very shy.
"Now what did I miss?" you ask, when the men dissolve into laughter.
Henry, one of the contractors under Joel, shakes his head. "It ain't worth repeating in the presence of a lady."
The host interjects, "So what do you call Kelly?"
Henry puts an arm around her shoulder. "Aw, she's heard it all before, haven'tcha?"
"That don't mean she wants to hear it from you!" one of the other men shouts, and there's another round of laughter while you bite your lip, watching Joel's eyes as they dip to Henry's arm.
You wrap your lips around the tip of the bottle in your hand, letting the taste of the beer give your mouth an excuse to look sour. Henry's hand is dropping from Kelly's shoulder down to her waist, and while the conversation carries on, Joel leans in close so that only Henry - and you - can hear.
"Cool it, Henry."
"Huh?" comes the slow reply, as he pretends not to have understood him.
Joel just lifts his brows, and that's all it takes for Henry to back off, looking a little sheepish as he unwinds himself from Kelly, who looks more than a little relieved.
Henry turns to you, suddenly trying to make small talk, to save face. "Have you two met? This's our girl Kelly. She takes good care of us, don'tcha, sweetheart?"
You give a polite smile. "We've met. Nice to see you, again. Both of you."
"Uh huh," Henry answers half-heartedly before he wanders off, perhaps to join another conversation, or just to find another drink.
Kelly gives you another polite smile, then as the host starts to back away, bringing the rest of the group with him, she goes along with the crowd. Before she leaves, though, she softly murmurs to Joel, "Thanks for that."
He answers with a stiff nod, but it's more than enough to put the stars back in her eyes as she walks away, leaving the two of you alone.
You're biting your lip again, practically chewing on it, as you dangle Joel's beer by the throat, handing it over to him.
"Thank you," he says, then tips it back immediately.
You don't reply, lost in thought, but pretending nonchalance as you watch the group leave.
"Meant what I said, though," Joel adds in your silence. "Shoulda let me get it. I don't like to have you wanderin' around on your own. Not with this bunch of degenerates."
You smirk. "What, like Henry?"
"For one, yeah," he says, turning to face you now that the sounds of the party are fading into the background. "Lookin' the way you do, won't be able to keep their eyes or their hands off ya."
You laugh him off, but can't pretend that his voice isn't settling right in the bottom of your stomach. He's standing a little closer, now, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, mixed with the spice of his cologne. Something about him talking this way puts some boldness into you, and your words come out a bit more reckless than they should.
"Well, maybe you should have asked Kelly to get your drink, then."
He looks dumbfounded for a moment, and you widen your smile to show you're joking.
"I mean, I'm sure she would have," you go on, digging yourself deeper even as your heart kicks up faster. If you'd switched to beer two drinks ago, you probably would have explained yourself better. You would have insisted it was just a joke, because she so clearly has a crush on him. But your words are just swimming in all that whiskey.
"Cute little thing like that," you say, shrugging. "Probably don't mind her 'taking care of you', do ya?"
Joel's eyes are fixed on you, voice easing down into his chest when he asks softly, warningly, "What did you just say?"
He's turned all the way toward you, and all at once the room feels so much smaller, your face so much hotter. He's waiting for an answer, and your breath is caught high in your throat. "I-uh... it was just... nothing."
He's very slowly setting down his beer, looking down to a side table. "Wasn't nothing; I heard it." He looks back up at you, pinning you hard where you stand. "Now repeat it. Wanna make sure I heard you right."
You swallow, mouth dry. "I nn-nothing, I just said..." You force a crooked smile that you know he isn't buying for a second. "Y'know... she's- she's pretty cute, and maybe you... maybe she oughta... 'cause maybe you want her to..."
Your babbling doesn't impress him. He's just staring at you under a darkened brow. He opens his mouth to say something, but the motion of someone else entering the room catches your eye and you snap defensively before he can say anything.
"Joel, I didn't mean-"
He follows your gaze, then turns away and shuts you up with a wide, heavy palm sliding to the small of your back. "C'mere," he says. "C'mon." And the way he breathes it as he guides you out of the room and down the hall, you don't argue.
He finds a bathroom and pushes you inside. While you're looking over his shoulder to make sure no one sees you going in together, he's staring straight ahead, and he closes the door with one hand, still holding you with the other.
"I'm... sorry," you confess as soon as the door closes. "That was stupid. I don't know why I said it."
"Yeah," he grunts, crowding you up against the closed door. "You do."
The way he has you held close, arm around your waist and words warm against your mouth, you'd normally try to kiss him right about now. But looking into his eyes, you know there's no kiss waiting for you on his lips.
He's mad, and you're a little scared. Not scared of him, but scared of what he might do at a party where people might hear. People that he has to work with on Monday.
He isn't drunk, but he's had a few, and your fear ratchets up when his hand slides to your backside, gripping your ass and kneading it as he growls, "You think I give a goddamn about some teenager?"
Despite the way he's manhandling you through your dress, you can't help but roll your eyes. "She's not a teenager."
She isn't really that much younger than you are. And with Joel in his fifties, the thought has crossed your mind that he might just be keeping you around because he got a thing for younger women. You'd just never said anything out loud. Until tonight.
He stops, pulls back. "Alright, guess I'm not bein' clear enough."
He takes you by both arms, pushes you against the sink so you're looking at yourself in the mirror. Behind you, he starts unbuckling his belt.
"Joel..." you whisper, heat pulsing through you just from the sound of the metal clinking. You know you should ask him to stop - is the door even fucking locked? - but you can't get any other words out besides his name.
He slides a hand under your dress, pushing it up and over the swell of your ass. He doesn't slow down, doesn't even run his hand over your skin. He just pushes your panties to the side, pressing the head of his cock right up against your pussy, holding it there as he grits against your ear, "Guess I gotta show you where I want to be."
He pushes the thick head inside you, wrapping one arm around your stomach to keep you from falling forward. His other hand is flat on the sink, not playing with you, not easing anything. He doesn't give you any prep, just shoves in slowly, his cock stretching you all in one go.
You hiss, brow pinching. He didn't even let you get wet enough to take him. You can feel every damn move he makes inside you as he shifts his hips closer to pin you hard against the cold edge of the sink. When he's all the way in, you watch your mouth pop open in the mirror as you take a few panting breaths. The stretch is almost unbearable, but feeling so full of him, you don't want to stop.
He eases out, just a couple inches to coat himself in your slick, then presses back in even harder. You feel like your lungs are going to give out from how tight your gasps are getting.
"Fuck, Joel... hurts," you whine.
He slowly slides you off of him, then feeds it right back in.
"I know it does, honey," he breathes against your neck. "I know it does."
His deep voice makes you pulse around his cock and he drags his big, calloused hand down to the front of your dress, lifting it up just far enough to see your pussy, stuffed full of him. You're leaking down the sides of his cock, glistening in the dim light of the bathroom.
"See that?" he asks, unmoving. "That's where I wanna be. You hear me?"
Giving a shaky nod of your head, you whimper, "Yes."
He starts to piston in and out of you, and you can only watch. You close your eyes tight when he speeds up a little. "It's... mm- it's too much."
He doesn't change his pace. "Ain't about feelin' good. You've got to learn."
He groans when your pussy clenches around him, and you follow with an answering moan as the tension in your muscles starts to fade. You're soaking down both sides of your inner thighs as he opens you up further.
When you've dissolved into whimpering his name, he hooks one arm around your leg from behind, lifting it up so that you're spread wider. His other hand is still holding up your dress.
"Look at that," he grunts, making an obscene display of his cock fucking into your pussy. "Look how fucking hard you make me, baby."
You whine again, struck dumb by how good he feels with every snap of his hips. "God, feels so good... please..."
He's dragging his teeth against your neck when he replies, "Please?"
"Please, Joel. Feels so fucking good," you repeat, eyes closed.
You want him to fuck you properly, to bend you over and make you take him, to use his fingers - to let you use yours - anything; it doesn't matter. You're so worked up, you just need a little more.
"M'not gonna give you what you want, darlin'," he answers. "Don't work like that."
You can't help but loose a plaintive moan, even knowing you deserve it. "Baby, please-"
He drops your knee, letting your leg come down to the floor as he bends you over the sink. When he starts to fuck you for real, you can't hold it together anymore, softly pleading and whining for more, begging him not to stop, opening your eyes to watch him in the mirror as he starts to lose himself, too.
Until a knock at the door jars you right out of it.
"Is anybody in there?"
Joel doesn't even slow down. Just flattens his palm along your lower back to bend you back over after you jolt up.
"Joel-" you hiss. But he keeps giving you exactly what you need, and your eyes roll back.
"Hello?"
He slides a warm hand down the open neckline of your dress, kneading your breast as he looks at you in the mirror. His brown eyes are stern and steady. "Answer."
He keeps feeding you his cock, and you hiccup, legs shaking as you whisper, "I- I don't..."
"Go on and tell 'em. You're busy."
Fuck fuck fuck. "Uhh, s-someone's in here!"
Your voice comes out strained and airy, and you wait for the reply while Joel kisses the skin of your shoulder, sliding the front of your dress down.
"Joel, it's... somebody is..."
"Nothin' in here that I wanna hide," he growls, pushing his hips right up against your ass as he circles a thumb around one of your nipples.
"Fuck, Joel..." The silence outside has been long enough that the person is probably gone, but your pulse is still pounding, and he's making it so fucking hard to think. "Oh my god, yes..."
He's quietly panting, lifts his head long enough to say, "Understand now, pretty girl?"
"Mm..."
"This here's right where I wanna be. Nowhere else," he grunts, pressing his weight down on you, the squelching sounds between your bodies getting louder than your moans. Your eyes are drawn up to the mirror, watching the veins in his neck tighten as he fucks into you harder and harder. "You got it?"
You frantically nod, desperately near the edge of coming. "Fuck, yes, mhm..."
"Maybe I oughta fill you up right here, leave you with somethin' to think about."
"N-no," you stutter, almost sounding like you're sobbing your words. "P-please, I get it. I heard what you s-said."
He has to let you come. You don't care that you were acting up, making something out of nothing. You don't care what got him mad at you. All you can think about is how flushed his chest is beneath the open collar of his shirt, how tight his grip is, how stiff his jaw is set. You just want to listen to that throaty growl, feel him mercilessly fucking you a little while longer. That's all it would take. Just a little bit...
"Fuck-"
Joel pulls out, hand tightening into a fist around himself. You slump against the sink.
"Goddamn, baby. Almost got me, there."
You're on the verge of tears, shuddering with wild breaths. "No, fuck, Joel, please please please-"
He grips a handful of your ass, fingers brushing through your wetness and making you whimper.
"Told you, I ain't giving you what you want."
You hear him zip up his jeans, and then his hand is back at your ass, but this time he's pulling your panties back into place and tugging your dress down.
"Never gonna learn that way."
You whine pitifully, knowing you brought this on yourself, but still pleading under your breath, face drawn tight with frustration.
He helps you stand up properly, giving you his arm to steady yourself. You straighten your dress, cleaning up your appearance in the mirror, and eventually you're able to leave the bathroom, walking out on trembling legs.
He gives you a smirk as you leave the hallway, and something in you finally snaps. Maybe it's a little unfair, but you know exactly what to say to knock that smirk off his face.
You lean in and whisper in his ear, "Guess you didn't want me that bad after all, or you would have finished."
And all of ten minutes later, you're in the cab of his truck. You're screaming his name as you come all over his cock, hands fisted in his hair, tugging it hard while he pumps you full of his cum, cursing you the whole time.
Turns out, he's the one who's never gonna learn.
--
A/N: Thanks for reading! I don't have a taglist for Joel, but I'll add one if I ever write for him again. Hope you enjoyed! :)
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schoenpepper · 2 days ago
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Hi teh needing some all time comfort so can I request for Trey, Jade and Floyd where their S/O got injured? Like sprained their ankle or something. Or broke their toe nail from taekwando because they had a miscalculation kick🙂
(Totally did not happen to me haha)
It Hurts, Doesn't It?
Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread, trey's is suggestive kyahhh idk what i wrote for him
A/N: Sige beh para sayo <3 HAHAHAHAAHAHA unahin ko req mo kasi kawawa ka naman pagbibigyan na kita. My phone died and it ain't charging on any cable so I'm gonna cry haha goodnight good morning good afterevening
Masterlist
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Trey's hands are warm and gentle, massaging your ankle with practiced motions. "You uh, do this often?" you wince when he rolls it a bit too much to the left.
"Too much. Children are clumsy."
"I'm not a child."
He shoots you an unimpressed look over the top of his glasses, his fingers slowly pressing on the spots that make you hiss and thrash under his touch. "Stay still or it won't get any better."
"Okay," you pout, "big brother."
There's something dangerous in his honey dipped eyes that makes you attempt to pull back, but there's just no escaping him when he gently tugs on your leg and makes you lose your balance. "You aren't my sibling," he whispers, "and I am not your brother." You get it, you really do. You nod your head and try to pull back again, but suddenly, his lips are on your skin, pressing light kisses over the painful parts.
"What are you—?!"
"I wouldn't do this for my siblings," Trey's kisses slowly continue to climb up your leg, "so don't call me that again."
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Floyd thinks the situation is funny, so he pokes and prods at the reddened skin on your ankle while laughing. "Shrimpy, how'd you manage to do that? Did you trip over yourself?" You know better than to regale him of your sad tale, so you purse your lips and pull your leg away from his restless hands.
"Floyd, it hurts. Cut it out please."
He frowns and leans in closer. You lean back against the bench, trying not to move your foot too quickly when he's closing in the distance without leaving you any chance to breathe. "But you promised to spend today with me. You can't back out on your promises."
You shake your head. "Nothing I can do, Floydie. I can't play with you when I can barely even walk."
"You can't walk, shrimpy?" you're suddenly hoisted up into his arms, "I'll carry ya'."
"Floyd! Put me down, please!"
He shakes his head and runs off, forcing you to wrap your arms around him for support.
"Nah, don't feel like it. Let's go play in Azul's office!"
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Jade regards your ankle with his typical smile that betrays nothing of his true thoughts, slowly rubbing the area in a rhythm that almost lulls you to sleep. His gloves are tucked on your lap, his hat sloping down on your head almost covering your eyes. "Still," he speaks in a soft, low tone, "it is rather impressive you could injure yourself in such a situation."
Translation: That was dumb. How the fuck did you get hurt like that?
You give him a sheepish smile, pulling up the brim of the hat so that your view of his pretty face, all tense with the slightest tinge of worry, is unimpeded. "Thank you for helping, Jade."
"Of course. It's not as if I'm doing it for free."
Well, you should have expected it already. Octavinelle's brand of benevolence is often expensive. Your hands subconsciously fiddle with the satin of his gloves. "Of course, what do you want?"
His smile turns a little more genuine.
"And I could ask anything of you?"
You grimace. "Within reason."
"Then perhaps," his tone is a bit breathier when he gets closer to you, "a kiss for your knight in shining armor?"
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Taglist:
@yummyyummyinmytumny @fsh1 @lemon-koii
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hwaslayer · 2 days ago
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wildfire (cs) | six.
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—spotify playlist | series masterlist
—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.
—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 10.1k
—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, sorry if i missed anything i had to quickly edit in order to get this out lol, san x oc finally talk a little more abt each other - family - friends, small affectionate gestures and kisses, yes we have finally made it my friends… the sleepover where we discuss neuroscience papers!!!! lmao jk 😭 was not lying abt the true crime aspect tho (i fear i know nothing else), san also opens up a bit more about iseul, making out, neck kisses, breast play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, some clit play i guess!!, aftercare, cuddles
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You decide to go to dinner with San, but the decision comes incredibly last minute. You've paced around your studio, sat on your bed for hours, going back and forth between a simple yes or no. Until, you finally realized you truly didn't wanna miss out. You felt like you'd regret it if you didn't just go to see what it'd be like.
Harmless.
Eunchae and Jurin are gone for the weekend for other family commitments, but you still find yourself having to make up some sort of scenario for the boys in case they come barging in while you're getting ready. You tell them that you're spending the afternoon with your mom and that you'll be back later tonight in case they wanna come over and hang out. Boys being boys— they don't pry much and leave it at that.
You let out a breath just after you end the call with Jiung and set your phone aside, dabbing a bit more blush onto the apples of your cheeks. 
San told you to meet him at a restaurant that's very Nobu-esque, and you damn near dropped your phone when you pulled up the directions and saw pictures of the fancy interior. Even if you protested, he wouldn't let up— promising you that he'd take care of everything and that he just wanted you to have a good time with him. He asked once more if you were sure about driving, and you insist; just for the one time, to play things safe, to relieve yourself of the pressure of having to be with San in a car in case dinner doesn't pan out well [for whatever reason].
You are equally excited, nervous and terrified. Might feel a little queasy from the combo.
You run the lip gloss across your lips before pressing them together, spreading it across the surface. You check the time and pack your things into your purse, giving yourself a little bit of wiggle room for the 30-minute drive east to meet San. You check yourself in the mirror and dust yourself off, smoothing down the simple, black cami-strap dress you have on. Good thing you checked the restaurant's dress code on their website last night, or else, you might have walked into the place in something a little more casual.
Not classy. Elegant. Black and white attire only.
You run off to your car without being spotted by anybody you know. You did run into a few classmates and other familiar faces, but ones that won't even bat an eye as to why you're running across the lot in heels and a black dress. You get into your car and warm it up before turning up the heat, pulling up one of your playlists and sending San a text to let him know you're leaving campus. The drive isn't so bad when your playlist is hyping you up, along with the clear highways. You've gotta cross a bridge and pay the toll on your way back, but you don't mind; you feel a sense of relief wash over you being that you've gotten yourself this far from campus.
You knew people from campus weren't fond of coming to the east side. It tailored way too much to the wealthy, hence, San's choice for tonight's dinner.
The side streets are a little too busy in the downtown area, but you finally catch sight of the restaurant on the corner of an intersection; nestled underneath a modern, upscale 5-star hotel. When you pull into the lot, San is chatting it up with the valet. He laughs and you catch that smile of his, his dimples. He's in a black button up, and black slacks. The first two buttons of his shirt are undone, the silver chain hanging around his neck— sitting prettily across his collarbones. He points at your car and signals your arrival to the valet, the staff member immediately meeting you at the driver's side when you park in front of the booth.
"Your lady has arrived." The valet says, taking your hand in his before passing you along to San and getting into your car to park it in the lot.
"Hey beautiful." San takes your hand in his and smiles down at you adoringly. "How was the drive?"
"Good." You're barely able to maintain contact because of how shy and nervous you've become being around him. He can tell, though. He chuckles and gives your hand a gentle squeeze before reassuring you with a:
"Promise I'll take care of you tonight, okay? Don't get shy on me."
"Who said I was?"
"You can barely look me in the eye, Y/N." You look up at him and try to hold eye contact, but you shrink; subtly biting onto your lip and hiding behind him when the host greets him like he's known him forever. He walks through the restaurant, heading towards the private back patio. This section is closed off and by reservation only— your guess is that San bought out the patio for your enjoyment, to ease your nerves. And you're proven right when the host slides the back door open, and there's only one table draped in white linen in the middle of the garden. There's a candle in the middle of the table and a singular red rose on your plate, San deciding to forego the additional decorations and rose petals because he didn't wanna do too much for a first dinner. He just didn't wanna overwhelm you knowing you might already be, but he hopes you know he'd take care of you in all ways if you'd let him— the roses and candles being a glimpse into that.
"The waiter will be with you both shortly." The host does a curt bow before leaving you and San in the patio.
"Choi San." You look at and he cocks a brow, trying to prevent himself from smirking too big.
"Mhm?" He looks at you.
"Why did you buy out the whole patio?!"
"To keep you comfortable." He smiles, eyes roaming your figure and the way your dress hugs you so, so beautifully.
"San." You frown a bit. "You didn't have to spend all that just for me."
"Um, yeah. I did, sweetheart." He laughs. "I wanted to. The last thing I wanted was for you to worry tonight." You slowly sit in the high chair in front of him, taking the singular rose to your nose before smiling shyly at him.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." His hands are clasped together, elbows resting on the table— his piercing eyes bore into you. "How was your day?"
"It was good. I didn't do much besides get ready for the evening. Had to tell the boys I was running off for the evening like Eunchae and Jurin." San nods and sips his water.
"Sorry love."
"For what?"
"For having you lie to your friends."
"They don't care much." You wave it off with a giggle. "How was your day?"
"Well, I was gonna hang out at Jongho's but someone told me they wanted to go to dinner last minute."
"Wonder who that could be?" You tease and he laughs a bit.
"Yeah, right? She's lucky she's cute." He teases back and the heat rises to your cheeks.
"Didn't mean to impose on your plans with the other Professor Choi."
"Never. I see him all the time, he won't mind if I leave him behind for an evening." You laugh.
"Touché." At this point, the waiter comes and sets down some complimentary edamame before taking orders. You decline any alcohol solely because of your drive home, and San follows suit. He proceeds to order the food for tonight after remembering you didn't have any specific allergies, giving him free range to order things he enjoys, but also knows you'd love. 
Wagyu.
Chef's choice omakase.
Other choices of nigiri, like toro. 
Uni tempura.
Squid pasta with garlic sauce.
Chilean seabass with dry miso.
It all comes out of San's mouth like the price tag is nonexistent, and you're internally screaming. How could he be so damn charming and suave? Let alone, this is how he spoils you for the first dinner?
"That's all." San smiles toothlessly before handing over the menus to the waiter. He licks his lips and shifts in his position as if he didn't just order a line of the most expensive items on the menu.
"San, this is gonna be so expensive. I can't accept this. Please let me at least pay for half."
"Uh, no. What did I tell you, Y/N? I'd take care of you tonight. I meant it. Just enjoy yourself for me." You sigh and tilt your head before playfully rolling your eyes.
"I can't with you."
"Yes, you can." He chuckles. "So, tell me."
"Hm?" You hum.
"About you."
"What about me?"
"I wanna know everything and anything about you." He gives you that look. "I wanna know what Miss Y/N is about outside of her CV." You snort at the comment, the reality of you being San's rotation student almost hitting you dead in the face until you decide to brush it off completely.
"Well, I'm the only child?" You say in a questioning tone, unsure of where to start. But, the conversation eventually flows on its own. You tell San about your mom being a single mom and how it's always been you two from the very beginning. You don't know much about your dad, but you don't mind talking about it if asked. It's not necessarily a sensitive or heavy topic for you; it's just unfortunate that you don't have anything to add simply because you don't know him. You have family nearby, but your family is small. You don't have cousins you're close to, your relatives are mostly middle-aged, older.  Your grandparents were around up until you were in high school, then they both died from illnesses that got to the best of them.
Then, that was that.
You and your mom— mostly you, doing things for your own and on your own while your mom continued to work tirelessly at the hospital to keep food on the table. Rent. Necessities. You worked a few jobs throughout school to help as much as possible, but your mom always told you to put your studies first and to never force yourself if your body was too tired, too overwhelmed. It felt hard for awhile because your mom was barely around. When she was, she was tired. You felt distant, almost like you couldn't be close to your mom regardless of how hard you tried. You didn't think you'd be able to build a better relationship with her until you moved away for college. When you finally had your own space and the distance in between, your relationship blossomed and she became your bestfriend. Then, you tell San how you feel the utmost pressure to make her proud because you're the only child, the only person she can rely on in the future. The only person who can also truly disappoint her, which you don't want. 
Though, you feel like you've already started wandering down that path.
You're slightly interrupted when the waiter comes to bring in half of the order, starting with the nigiri and chef's choice, setting it down in the middle of the table. You both thank him before he says he'll be right back with the rest, San giving you the priority and freedom to choose whichever you want to eat. When you start to dig in, you continue to tell San about your friends and how Jiung's been your longest friend since high school. Otherwise, there haven't been too many people you could call your close friends. You knew people, you socialized, but you weren't one to toss the 'close/good friend' term around unless you felt a genuine, real connection with someone. You do feel like you could say that for Felix, Eunchae and Jurin even though it hasn't been long since you've known them; you've clicked with them easily and well. You're grateful for it. 
The conversation switches to San's point of view now, and he begins with his family dynamics. He relates to the pressure of making his parents happy as the only child, but he likes to think he's done well for himself so far. He talks about school and how brutal it was for him and his friends— San had a great mentor, but it was hours and hours of clocking in with no endpoint. Days and days of just hustling to finish and make sure he was producing amazing work. You reassure him by telling him you think it's all paid off, adding a little dash of seasoning with your 'or else we wouldn't be here, right?' playful teasing. He touches up on Jongho and their longtime friendship, followed by Mingi, Yeosang, Christopher, and now, Namjoon. He does talk about how him and Yunho used to be bestfriends, inseparable even, but he doesn't go into the details of what went down between him and Iseul. 
You won't press him. You'll let him come to you when he's ready to open up about it. Even though San acts like he's fine and he's moved on [he has], you can only imagine how it feels to replay the entire situation in your head, with the two people you trusted and adored more than anything.
"So, yeah. Namjoon and I got close because he was really there for me throughout a lot of the stuff that's happened. Even just down to minuscule things for the lab, my classes— anything. He's always been there for us no matter how busy he is."
"That's good. I can tell Namjoon really cares about you guys and the students."
"He's a good guy. His wife is lucky." You laugh.
"Do you see your parents often?" You watch as San puts another helping of the pasta and fish on your plate.
"From time to time, yeah, when they're around. My dad still travels a lot for business. Even though he stopped teaching, he's on a few boards as a consultant and agrees to talk for conferences or symposiums all the time. Mom's retired so she joins along. What about you?"
"I try to see her when I can. She's worked as a nurse at this hospital all her life, basically." He nods. "So, do you and the guys all live near each other?"
"Uh, sorta? Namjoon lives a bit further down south, but Mingi, Yeosang, Chris and Jongho live in close proximity."
"When you're not at work, do you just hang out with each other?" 
"For the most part. We're not always together, though. We like having our own space." He laughs. "Mingi used to pop up randomly and I had to tell him to stop doing it so often."
"Aw, he just wants your company. Don't be mean."
"I'm not mean! I just like to have my peace. Mingi is everything but peace." You laugh.
"Your home must be nice for him to be barging in like that."
"It is. I take pride in it now, not gonna lie." He sips his water, eyes gazing at you from over the rim of his glass. "You know, you're always welcome at my place." You look at him and slowly nod, trying to let the statement sink in. None of it feels weird to you; in fact, it makes you more curious to know about San's personal life. His home. What it'd be like to be in his space, alone.
"I'll keep that in mind. Might have to take you up on that one day." He smirks a bit.
"Yeah? That's kinda nice to hear. Lets me know I didn't entirely blow this." You giggle.
"Not at all." He sits back in his chair, content and satisfied from tonight's meal. He sees that you've finished everything on your plate, your attention now on the garden to your left while you sip on your water. He can't even deny how attracted he is to you, and how he has this indescribable pull to you. You're beautiful, and from your interactions, the way you speak and carry yourself, the passion behind your work, the way you care about your friends and mom— you've got a good, comforting soul that could balance his own. Almost like Yin and Yang, Tui and La. "What?" You ask him all innocently and he's struggling. He can't even help the huge smile that grows on his face when he looks at you.
"Nothing." He runs his finger across his bottom lip. "You're just.. so beautiful."
"Thank you, San." You respond softly and he feels his heart melt. The waiter comes back with the check, in which San is quick to hand over his card before you can even get your hands on it. You give him a look and he laughs, shaking his head after playfully reminding you that he'd take care of you. 
"Any plans for the rest of the weekend, or next week?"
"Not really. I'll probably hang out with the boys while the girls are gone. Next week, I've got a lot of behavior to run for Sunwoo, things to prep for the class I'm TAing for." He nods.
"Always working so hard."
"Uh, yeah. Especially for you." You poke fun at him and laugh. "What about you?"
"Mm, I have to actually start prepping for the symposium because it's coming up."
"Do you have your talk ready to go?"
"Nah." He shrugs. "But, I will."
"Do you still get nervous for talks?"
"Oh yeah, absolutely."
"You look so natural when you're doing it, though. I wouldn't have expected it."
"I do. I get pretty nervous. Not as bad as before, I'm able to shake it off better now." He lets out a breath, the both of you popping the little coffee candy that came with the check.
"How bad was it before?"
"Hm." He hums and thinks about it for a second. "Right before my first lecture for the big neuroscience association conference, I almost threw up. I was so nauseated, was dry-heaving for a good minute before I could get myself together."
"What? I would have never guessed." 
"Took a lot to get used to it. Still getting used to it." He smiles brightly. "But, I'm glad you think so. At least I'm doing something right." He looks at the date on his phone. "Speaking of the neuroscience association conference, the next one is coming up. Did you and your friends register to go?"
"Me, Jiung and a few others, yeah. Felix, Eunchae, Jurin and everyone else is just going to go on the trip cause they know that's where everyone will be at."
"Can't disagree, it'll be party central for the neuroscience community." You laugh.
"Can't wait to experience it." You look at him. "Will you be busy during the entire duration of the conference?"
"Mm, yeah. I've got a few other commitments and meetings. Lots of colleagues I haven't seen in awhile will be there, so I'll be catching up with them. There's also another smaller conference nearby that I'll be speaking at upstate before I head back down for the main one." 
"Busy you."
"Maybe. I'll always have time for you, though." He winks and you laugh it off. At this point, San stands and stretches before reaching out his hand for you to grab. "Ready to go?"
"I am." You take his hand and stand in front, letting San pull you flush against his body; hands resting on the small of your back.
"Is it okay if I kiss you?" His hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing the surface. Eyes examining your features closely. "Kinda wanna re-do the first kiss. Wanna do it right this time." You bite your lip and nod, eyes locked onto his lips as he leans forward. His lips meet you in a soft, tender kiss— one that isn't rushed, one that releases all your feelings into the universe, the galaxies. One that feels so natural, so meant to be.
One that gives you butterflies,
One that also unravels Pandora's box.
He holds the kiss for longer than expected, letting his lips mold into yours delicately. When he pulls away, he quickly reattaches his lips to yours; indulging in small sweet, repeated kisses before he kisses your forehead. He pulls back completely to look at you again, and he's admiring every inch of you from underneath the moon. You watch his jaw slightly tick, Adam's apple bob up and down; eyes full of desire. Need. Encompassing you, all of you.
"Hope you enjoyed dinner."
"I did, San. Thank you, again."
"No, thank you for joining me." He flashes you a cute, toothless smile before lacing his hand with yours. "Shall we? Do you want dessert or something?"
"I'm good, I'm stuffed. The food was so good." You pat your tummy as the both of you walk out of the restaurant and head towards valet, thanking the staff on your way out.
"Yeah, it was. Glad you're satisfied and happy." He presses a kiss to the surface of your hand just before greeting the valet. He runs to bring over your car first, parking it off to the side by the entrance to the lot to give you and San some time to say goodbye. San pops the driver's door open, allowing you to slide in while he hangs by the door. 
"Thank you again for tonight." You buckle your seat belt and look at him.
"Course. Drive safely, okay? Text me when you get home please."
"I will." 
"Good." He smirks before dipping down to give you another kiss on the lips. He shuts the door and gives you one last wave before walking towards his own car and letting you drive off. 
The butterflies that man gives you is insane. 
You can't even help but smile widely during the drive home, recounting each moment of the night and how you've quickly grown comfortable with San as a person. He's easy to talk to, easy to get along with.
Easy to be attracted to. Easy to be charmed by.
Easy to love.
You see it. You see why people love him and adore him, you see the bright aura he has. You see why people respect him.
You see yourself and him.
And the thought never leaves your mind once after that. You want San, just as he with you.
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You head home alone that night, and the idea about being alone with San more— off campus, anywhere but there— becomes more and more enticing. It doesn't leave you for a few days, even while San is trying to give you the space to take things slowly. He's never pressured you into moving at a pace you didn't like, always gently touching you but never doing anything that would make you overwhelmed. Not only does he know you two have to be careful, but most importantly, he knows all of this is a lot. In general.
So, he sticks to the cute texts and phone calls.
Quick mini-meetings in his office in between commitments, especially during the rare moment of an empty basement. Quick hello's in said office that result in chaste kisses and you darting out before anyone can think twice about why you've been in Professor Choi's office twice [or thrice] in one day.
You do want to be alone with him more, though. You want to see what possibilities lie behind closed doors, the ways you both could show each other your feelings. You want to see where else this could take you two, how it could continue to grow. Where things could head once you two are alone in a space together, with no background noise. No outsiders.
you: are you in your office?
san: sure am!
"San?" You poke your head into his office before sliding in and locking the door. The basement was incredibly [and unusually] empty for a weekday, San's office door and the walls the only thing separating you two from each other.
"Hey." He smiles from his desk, immediately pushing his chair back so he can stand and pull you close. "Wasn't expecting a visit from you right now."
"Sorry." You pout a bit and he shakes his head before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "I should've asked if you were free first."
"Mm, well." He hums. "I've always got time for you, remember?" You giggle. "Is everything okay?"
"Kinda?"
"Kinda? What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" He sits back on the edge of his desk, hand pulling you towards him and slotting you in between his legs.
"I wanted to ask you something."
"Mhm?" He says in a sing-song tone, curious about what you surprisingly popped in for.
"Can I come over?" His eyes widen a bit; not because he doesn't want you to, no. But because he's been dying to have you over. He's just been waiting until you seemed more ready to take that step.
"Tonight?" You nod, playing with his hands. "Of course you can." He pulls his hands away just to rest them behind your back. "Sure you wanna?"
"I do." He chuckles.
"I'll pick you up this time? Down the street from your building."
"Okay."
"Is that all that's been bothering you?"
"I just wasn't sure how to ask without seeming too eager, or desperate, or—"
"Hey." He laughs a bit, brushing your hair away from your face. "Never that. I've been wanting you over, but I wanted to wait until you seemed more comfortable." You relax in his hold and sink into his touch more, fingers threading through the ends of his hair.
"I wanna stay." You boldly let out, causing San to smile.
"You can stay. Whatever you want. Have more than enough room for you, sweetheart." He leans forward to meet you in a sweet, simple peck. "What time do you want me to come get you?"
"I should finish a few things before leaving."
"Just text me then, hm? I'll come whenever you're ready."
"Okay." You look at him before smirking. "That's all I wanted to talk about, Professor Choi." He chuckles, giving your side a good squeeze while biting his bottom lip.
"You're gonna be the death of me."
"Likewise." You playfully tap his nose before planting a kiss on his lips. "I'll text you later."
"Leaving already?" He pouts as you slowly pry yourself off of him because you're in his office. On campus grounds. You have to, even if you don't want to.
"I gotta get back to work, just like you do." You give him a look before waving by the door. "See you later."
"Mhm." He responds in a sing-song tone, crossing his arms tightly against his chest while he watches you walk out.
The butterflies you give him are insane.
After another long ass day of work and classes, you quickly grab dinner with your friends before rushing off to finish the rest of your assignments. You hop in a long, hot steamy shower— exfoliating and moisturizing like crazy. You strut around in your towel, throwing your toiletries into a huge bag, along with some clothes just in case. 
You can never go wrong with an emergency set of clothes and toiletries, right?
You send San a text to let him know you're about to be ready and throw on a lazy fit, feeling comfortable enough to not have to dress up for him during an occasion like this. It's a set of black wide-legged sweats and a cropped half-zip sweater, slipping into your platform Uggs for extra comfort. You step through your little cloud of perfume before grabbing your bag and heading out.
Ring, ring.
"Hey." You pick up the call, your eyes quickly scanning your surroundings. There isn't anyone in close proximity, but you still feel like someone might've caught onto the phone call coming through. Like someone could be listening, could be nearby, could be onto you.
"Where are you? I'm right outside the lot, leading into the residential street."
"I'm on my way. Someone might see you!"
"Y/N, I promise. No one's out here. This part of the street is pretty dead."
"Okay, but people coming in and out of the buildings?"
"I promise you it's fine and out of view. Hurry. I miss you." You roll your eyes when you hear the slight whine in his tone.
"Choi San, I swear." You mutter his name so lowly, paranoid of someone accidentally hearing you call your professor's name on the phone in passing.
"Mm, when you say my name like that, though." He wears a shit-eating smirk underneath the black mask he's wearing. Truthfully, he does look a little suspect hanging out in his car off to the side of the lot in a hat and black mask. He uses his second car, a Porsche Taycan, that he doesn't really take to campus— usually drives it when he wants to go for a drive down the highway by himself late at night, or when it's time to kick it with the boys. He's certain none of them are lingering around campus since they're always so quick to book it after their last meetings or classes. It's the best way he could conceal himself right now, he thinks.
It's all good.
"I'm coming out the side door. I'll be there in a second." You hastily hang up and tuck your phone in, feeling some kind of relief that you're almost at the stairs that'll lead you to the side—
"Yo!" Felix calls out with Jiung next to him. "Where are you going? We were just coming to bother you." He furrows his brows, eyes shifting to the huge tote bag you're carrying.
"I.. need to go to the lab."
"The lab? Now?" Jiung tilts his head. They're a little confused, but they're also not entirely surprised— people were in and out of the labs doing work at all times of the day. Some were night owls and preferred doing work late nights to avoid fighting over equipment and space during the day. It wasn't uncommon.
What is confusing is your large ass bag, though. For what?
"Yeah, I gotta check on one of the mice. The vet said they looked sick." Jiung and Felix nod as they take the lie. Again.
"Why are you bringing a big ass bag, though? Are you hauling the mice away or something?" Felix snorts.
"No, I have some supplies in here that I'm bringing over. We're building new behavior arenas now that the foundation of the rig is done." Felix shrugs.
"Oh, okay. Do you need us to walk you?"
"No!" You respond a bit too quickly that they're back to giving you weird, confused looks. "No— Sorry." You smile. "I'll be fine. I think Sunwoo has been there anyway. Thank you, though."
"Mm, okay then." Jiung shrugs. "Just let us know if you need us to come get you?" He pops another apple slice in his mouth.
"I will." You wave as you walk through the door and head down the steps in a hurry. 
"Was Y/N being a little weird or..?" Felix asks, but Jiung shrugs.
"Eh, she's probably a little overwhelmed or something." He turns down the hall. "Let's just go see what Eunchae is doing." 
You finally dart out the side door, doing a light jog over the grassy area and taking a shortcut towards the street that leads into the residential area from your building. You see San parked behind another car near the first house on the street, and San can see you making your way over through the rearview mirror. He smiles to himself when you near the car, pulling on the door handle to slide into the passenger's seat. His car smells like a mix of his air freshener, along with a hint of his cologne that you've slowly become obsessed with.
"Hey beautiful." He leans over the middle console and pulls down his mask. He puckers up his lips and it makes you giggle just as you lean in to give him what he wants. He doesn't pull back right away, no. Instead, he deepens the kiss and slips some tongue in, a shaky exhale released in between as his hand comes up to caress your cheek.
"Maybe we should leave." 
"Mhm." San teases as he continues to kiss you, smirking into the kiss. 
"San."
"Just one more." He chuckles before dipping forward and kissing you passionately again. You bite onto your bottom lip when he finally sits back in the driver's seat and rests his head against the headrest, admiring how cute you look in your leggings and hoodie. "You're cute."
"Stop." You giggle and shake your head. "Drive before someone sees us."
"Yes ma'am." He starts up the car and begins to drive to his destination. You're not really sure what to expect since it's your first time going to his place. You knew San was well off, but you didn't know what you were walking into— did he live in a modern, expensive ass apartment? Was it a penthouse? A regular single family home? You'll finally see why Mingi likes to barge in from time to time. "How was your day?" You're pulled out of your thoughts when he chimes in with the question.
"It was okay. I ran into Jiung and Felix as I was leaving." He leans against his window with one hand on the wheel, letting out a breathy laugh.
"Oh? How was that?"
"I don't know? I think they believed me. I said I was heading into lab." San shrugs.
"That's a good reason since it isn't uncommon. I'm sure it's fine, angel." He looks at you before returning his attention to the road in front of him. "It's pretty hot seeing you work so hard in my lab."
"Shut up, Professor Choi." He bites on his bottom lip before slipping his hand on your thigh. He gives it a good squeeze as he continues to drive in silence, the music softly filling the void in the car.
"Did you eat?" You nod.
"Mhm. Just grabbed something from the dining hall."
"Good."
"Did you?" He nods.
"Mhm. Just wanted to make sure you were okay, though."
"I am. Thank you." You watch as the surroundings pass you by while San takes you down towards another neighborhood near campus. A lot of other professors live closeby since the university has housing assistance for them as well. You just hope San's home is one of the select few that's isolated and isn't heavily populated with said group of professors.
When San pulls into his garage, you're a little surprised at the house. You're in awe because you wonder how San makes use of all this space living alone. It's a beautiful single family home, and you're sure the decision to buy this had come from Professor Lee when they had been married. You wonder if he still holds onto those memories, or why he didn't end up moving to another place. Perhaps—
"Y/N?" You snap out of it and turn to San, who has already parked the car and is unbuckling his seatbelt. "You okay?"
"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I was spacing out."
"You sure you're okay?" He chuckles. The both of you step out of the car and head into the hallway that leads straight into his bar and kitchen area first. "I can practically hear you thinking, sweetheart." He kicks off his shoes and you follow suit, San waiting for you before walking deeper into his house. You look up at him and he gives you a small smile, holding out his hand for you to take. "Relax. You can ask me anything." He pulls you flush against him, hands gently rubbing up and down your sides. "Okay?" He tilts your chin up and presses a kiss against your lips, which surely does put you at ease.
"I'm just curious about some stuff."
"Like?" You step into the living room and set your bag down on the couch temporarily. Your eyes roam around, scanning the sleek and simple decorations. It gives off a classy, modern look; room full of brown, white and black themes, wood hints.
"I'm not sure I know how to ask." You rub at your arms while San grabs two wine glasses from the cabinets and sets them down on the island counter.
"Ask away. I won't mind. I think I already know where you're going with it, anyway." You walk towards the island and rest your elbows against the marble countertop. "Is wine good, or do you want something else?"
"Wine is good." You pause, fully taking in what San is wearing as he continues to move around the kitchen. He's casually dressed in black Essentials sweats with a matching black tee. He sets his hat off to the side, running a hand through his soft, black hair. You think San is attractive during the day with his usual button-up top and slacks, but this— this was even more attractive to you and had you buckling at the knees the more you ogled at him. "Don't you get lonely being in this big house? I-I mean, you used to live here with her, right?" You chime in, hoping not to seem too spaced out and in your thoughts again.
"Mhm. I've gotten used to it, though." He says with a soft smile. "By the way, white or red?"
"White, if you have any please." He nods.
"I got you." He digs into his wine cooler beneath the island.
"Why didn't you wanna sell this and buy another house?" He shrugs.
"To be honest, I've thought about it. Every corner of this house used to remind me of her and I'd hate it." He pours wine into your glasses. "But, I really do love the house and the space it gives me. I just flipped it into something I'd be happy and comfortable with, and I've moved past all of that. It just feels like my space now."
"That's good. As long as you're okay. You decorated your home beautifully too, San."
"I am, yeah. Thank you, pretty girl." He smiles and comes around the corner to wrap his arms around you from behind. He kisses the back of your head as you relax in his hold, letting out a small exhale. "Is there anything else you're curious about?"
"Not right now." San chuckles a bit.
"Okay, well. I'll be ready for the next time." He kisses your temple. "Why don't you get comfy so we can relax and watch a movie? Sip on some wine, eat some cheese and crackers." You giggle and turn to face him in his hold.
"You're gonna prep some cheese and crackers, too?"
"Why not?" He chuckles. "Let me take you upstairs so you can get comfortable." You grab your things and take his hand, silently following San up to the second level of his home. There's a little loft that he's converted into a small gaming area— another smaller L-shaped sectional couch nestled against the walls with his gaming consoles on the shelf beneath the TV, board games neatly stacked away. There's a guest room to your right, his office to the left. You peek and find a large bookshelf covering the back wall behind his large desk and computer set up. "Here's my room." He takes you into his large master bedroom; sheets neatly made, large master bathroom off to the right corner of the room. "Bathroom's through there if you need anything." He looks at you. "Or, you can use the guest room if you feel more comfortable doing so."
"Thank you."
"Course. I'll be downstairs, okay?" He kisses you on the lips. You watch as he heads back downstairs to give you some privacy, returning your attention to the interior of his room. It's a little weird when you think that this used to be a space shared by Iseul— she'd be in here all the time, closet partially hers, bed shared with her. You brush off the thoughts and set your things aside before walking into his spotless bathroom to freshen up even though you just took a shower. San's got his own skincare, cologne and other hair products neatly organized off to the side. You complete your nightly routine for your skincare and slip into more appropriate pajamas in an effort to wind down and get cozy for bedtime. When you step out of the bathroom, you hear the tv echoing from downstairs, along with what sounds like San humming to a song. You head down the steps to see San setting up the last bits of his cute cheese and crackers display, wiping off the crumbs on his island counter. "Hey. You all good?"
"Mhm." You giggle, following him to the couch. You plop onto the open space just as San jogs back to bring over the wine he poured earlier. "What're we watching?"
"Good question." He says, flipping through the channels while sitting next to you and sipping on his wine. "Should we put on something cute or..?"
"Have you ever watched Worst Ex Ever?"
"Oh— ah, okay. So we're going the true crime route." You laugh and shake your head.
"I watched that, but I wanted to watch the other installment, Worst Roommate Ever." He nods and throws it on.
"Yeah, I'm all for it!" He kicks off the first episode and leans back against the couch, one arm draped over you from behind, giving you the opportunity to scoot closer to him.
As the episode continues, you find that San is actually really interested in these things— engaging in conversation about your thoughts, why certain events happened in the episode, motives, thought processes— you love how he carries the conversation with you. You enjoy watching the show a little too much with him that time seems to fly right on by despite the hour-long episodes. You'd laugh and giggle when San pouts and whines when he's guessed wrong, resulting in you two sharing cute, little intimate kisses in between. After you both finish your wine and go through most of his charcuterie board, you snuggle up closer to San. You've got your legs folded up on the couch, with San's hand grazing your thigh every time he dips forward for a kiss. You've gone through 2 and a half episodes before you're yawning and giving San tired eyes, so he pauses the show; hand gently rubbing at your thigh.
"Tired?" You nod.
"Kinda tired, yeah." He chuckles and shuts off the TV.
"Let's get upstairs then." You help him clean up the wine glasses and the board even though he insisted he had everything under control. But, as he steps back and takes a moment to watch you rinse out the dishes and load them into the dishwasher, he finds his heart skipping a few beats. He likes seeing this; he likes seeing you, in his kitchen, as if you were always meant to be in this home. With him. It just felt so.. natural and domestic. It's been so long since he's genuinely felt that way. You give him a small smile when you've finished, beginning to climb up the steps as San shuts off his lights and makes sure all the doors are locked. You head into his room and start to brush your teeth, San following suit next to you. You don't even think twice about the whole thing, even as you walk towards his bed with him. He pulls back the covers and you slide in, staring at the ceiling above while he cozies up to you.
"San."
"Yeah?"
"I think I'm ready to ask the next question. But, you don't have to answer if you don't want to." You turn towards him and lay on your stomach. He chuckles a bit and brushes your hair back, reassuring you to continue on. You said you'd wait for him to open up, but you couldn't help it— you were curious, and you felt like you were getting deeper into this thing with San. Maybe it was time.
"I'll answer, but I might not go into detail. How about that?" He already knows where this is going. And with you, he wants to be as transparent as possible without having to relive that part of his life again. Despite his feelings for you, he still needs to hold space for himself especially with that aspect. He doesn't wanna undo the work he's done on himself.
"Okay."
"Go for it, angel."
"What was your relationship like with her?" He lets out a breath as he rests his cheek on the palm of his hand, elbow propped up on the pillow. 
"Mm, well. I'd say it was good until she realized it wasn't me she wanted this entire time. We were one of those couples who moved quickly and unfortunately, it just didn't work out well for us at all. We ended just as quickly as we blossomed." You look at him.
"So, when did you meet and when did everything happen?"
"We met in grad school. We started going out maybe a year after we had met and been good friends. Me, her and Yunho were always together. Another year after that, we're married. Things were good even though things were moving fast. Parents liked each other, we bought this house. It felt like things were falling into place. We were doing a lot of 'future' talks, even thought about kids at one point." You continue to listen intently while San goes on, his hand tracing faint shapes on your clothed back. "But then, the postdoc years happened. We were both busy, but me especially. I hadn't realized it then, but I was putting work and the lab before anything and anyone else. I kinda can't even blame her for acting the way she did because I should've paid more attention to her as her husband."
"You can't blame yourself, San." 
"I don't." He smiles a bit. "Not anymore, at least. In general, I should've just paid more attention." He lets out a small sigh. "I knew her and Yunho had gotten close so I didn't think much of it when I started to see them hanging out more without me, or starting things without me. The busier I got, the more she leaned on Yunho. He was there for her when I wasn't. That's what she wanted and needed the most, and he was there to provide that for her. He was able to." 
"Did she ever talk to you about it?"
"She was the type who couldn't communicate well. She'd harbor everything until that one thing triggers her and makes her blow up." You nod. "Whenever I felt tension or whenever I felt her being off, I'd ask, and her response was always 'i'm just tired' or 'too many things going on with my project, it's overwhelming.' There were only a few occasions when she told me she felt like I wasn't there for her enough. I wanted to fix it, but she brushed it off and said it was fine, that this was just our life together." San shakes his head. "Not once did I ever wanna give up on her. I wanted to fix it. I tried everything to be better for her, but I was too late, I guess. I found out about her and Yunho seeing each other behind my back, I called the divorce. She tried running back a few times but we'd always end up worse than the last time. We'd yell, we'd argue. I'd be hurt all over again, re-opening that same wound over and over again. Had me thinking I had a chance to actually fix us, only to be shot down. Then later, her and Yunho eloped and got married."
"Fuck." You mutter. "Sorry— I just, I don't even know what to say."
"The worst part is that she blamed me and painted me to be the bad guy. It got so toxic, it really messed me up. She would tell people this false narrative that I always fought with her and that I was unfair. My priorities were everywhere. She told people she properly broke it off before seeing Yunho when that wasn't the case. I dunno why she said and did all those things. Maybe she was angry at me for not trying the way Yunho did? Maybe she just hated me?"
"You and Yunho are two very different people, and you did try to fix it. She just wanted to be a brat about it. She wanted to have her cake and eat it, too." You frown. "I'm sorry, San."
"For what, baby?" He laughs a bit. "It is what it is, it happened and I'm past it."
"Yeah, but still." You play with his hair. "What was Yunho doing in all of this?"
"Denying the affair even though I caught them. He kept trying to apologize but there was always a 'but.' I mean, what else can he do? That's his girl so he's going with it."
"Sick." You sigh. "Can't believe them. They don't deserve you anyway."
"You're right. They don't. I have my people by my side." He taps the tip of your nose. "Now, you."
"You do have me." You lay your head down on the pillow while looking at him.
"I do?" He teasingly leans forward, inches away from your lips.
"Mhm."
"Good. That's all I need." His eyes shift down to your lips briefly before shifting back up to you. "Is there anything else you wanna ask?"
"Hm. Do you really mean that?"
"What? That you're all I need?" You nod. "I don't lie. Ever." He chuckles, caressing your cheek sweetly.
"Just kinda hard to believe hearing it from you."
"That's okay. I mean—" He whispers, pressing light, feathery kisses to your cheeks, corner of your lips. "I can show you instead, if you'd let me?"
"Show me." You whisper back, tilting your head back to give San more access to your neck, to you. One second, he's kissing up on your neck with your hands tangled in the ends of his hair; the next, your tongues are fighting for dominance in a heated kiss. Everything feels so calculated, so full of genuine emotion and desire. San's hands travel up your shirt, massaging your breasts before letting his thumb play around with your nipples. You let out a breathy moan in between kisses, back arching in response to his touch. He carefully removes your shirt and tosses it aside, mouth now latching onto one hardened bud. His tongue flicks around, working in circular motions before pulling back with a pop— earning a louder moan to slip from your lips, goosebumps rising on your skin. He repeats the motions on the other, taking his time to lick and suck around your nipple before pulling back. 
San is quick to reattach his lips to yours; this kiss holding more fervor, more intensity, as his hand slides down to completely slide your bottoms off. You work to remove his shirt, the both of you bare in a matter of seconds.
Clothes littering his bedside.
He tries not to break the kiss, even as he crawls on top of you, fingers dipping into your heat and in between your folds to get a sense of how wet you already are. 
"Oh my god." You cry. San's cock is painfully hard, hitting your thigh while he continues to pepper your jaw, neck, with kisses.
"Can I have you, baby?" He whispers in your ear. 
"Y-yes." You can barely make out from the overwhelming desire, excitement. Thrill.
This was actually happening.
San hovers slightly to slide his nightstand drawer out, but you stop him before he can grab a condom. 
"I'm on the IUD." You shake your head. "Don't need it."
"You sure?" He asks once more for final confirmation, and you give it to him with a nod. He pauses, eyes skimming through your features again before pecking you on the lips, hand coming down to stroke his length. You drool at the sight, admiring how perfectly long and thick he is. He smirks, tapping his heavy cock against your pussy a few times. 
Just to be a fucking tease.
He starts slow— pressing his cock in between your folds, gliding up and down. 
"Mm— god." He huffs. "You feel perfect already." San watches the way your eyes roll back, mouth open as you let out small whines and whimpers at the feeling. He nudges your clit with his tip as he continues to slide up and down, earning a loud mewl to release from your lips. His other hand is now gripping your jaw to force you to maintain eye contact with him— it's not a harsh grip, but it's enough to keep you clenching around nothing. Enough to keep you writhing for more underneath him. He rubs the tip against your sensitive nub directly, another shaky moan releasing from your lips. 
"Fuck, San." You hiss, feeling the pleasure build right at your core with the way he's rubbing against you; legs cocked all the way open for him.
"So beautiful. Think I can make you cum like this, angel?" You take your hand and wrap it around his base, letting him thrust into your hand as he continues his movements between your folds. "Feels so fucking good. Can't even imagine how you'd feel wrapped around me. Hm?" He hums, head kicking back in pleasure while trying to maintain his composure. Because fuck, he can feel himself dangerously close to the edge, but he's hanging on so he can feel you— all of you.
"San, San— oh god, San." You cry repeatedly, feeling your clit ready to explode. His tip is hitting it at the right pace, hitting you in all the right spots at the right pace. You move your hips upward, grinding into his length as he continues; mouth slacked open from the overwhelming pleasure. "You're gonna make me cum." 
"Yeah? Use me. Wanna see how pretty you look when you cum." He stills and watches as you use his cock to reach your first orgasm of the night, pressing him down with the right pressure onto your heat as you grind at a quicker pace— finally toppling over the edge. His eyes glow when he watches your mouth slack open from the silent moan you release, hands coming down to ease your twitching body. "God, you're perfect." He presses feathery kisses across your jaw, chin.
Neck.
Coming right below to your sweet spot below the ear.
"Ready for me?" He asks near your ear, gently nibbling your earlobe and giving you chaste kisses on said sweet spot. You nod, giving him the green light to move further. He lines himself at your entrance before gently pushing himself in, loud moans escaping the more he buries himself to the hilt. "Baaaby." San's moan drags out as he eases himself into you. "Shit, you're so tight." He slowly pumps in and out, eyes glued to his cock as you coat it with your slickness. "Feeling okay?"
"Mhm. Feels so full." You almost whine. His hands are now pressed onto your inner thighs to make sure you keep yourself open for him. He rolls his hips into you as he hovers over your body and locks you into another kiss. He doesn't waste any time picking up his pace, the way you whine and beg, beg and whine— it drives him crazy. 
"Take me. You can do it, sweetheart." His thumb presses down on your bottom lip, tongue licking into your mouth just as he devours you in a sloppy, wet kiss. You let out a strangled, lewd moan when he starts pounding into you harder, deeper; sounds of skin slapping against skin bouncing off the walls. Pussy squelching. San's name being repeated like a song, a mantra.
The noise is nothing short of pornographic.
"Please. More. Give it to me." You plead. "Feels too good."
"Shit— Y/N, jesus fucking christ." San groans when he slowly pulls out just to the tip, creamy mess lathering the top of his dick like icing. "Gonna make me cum." He pounds back into you at an angle where he can reach all your spots. He lowers himself back down to kiss you, fucking into you while expertly rubbing away at your aching clit.
San is so, so good.
"Want you to cum in me, San."
"Yeah? You did so well for me, baby. I'll fill you up real good. Just how you want it."' After two, three more hard thrusts, you find yourself unraveling for the second time. And this time, it comes crashing down harder, your walls squeezing and constricting around him. You're digging your nails deep into San's back, moaning into his mouth as he continues to chase his high. "I'm cumming— fuck." He lets out a loud, breathy moan as he stills; milking every last bit of himself into you. He buries himself in the crook of your neck, pressing kisses to the surface before coming up to kiss you softly on the lips. "You okay, baby?" He smiles.
"Mhm." He presses a few more repeated, tender kisses to your lips before running off to the bathroom to help clean you up. You lay back on your tummy as San slips himself back under the sheets, sitting back against the headboard. He sighs, black glasses perched on his nose while the sheets are pulled up to his hips. You watch as he pulls his laptop and sits it on his lap before typing away, letting out a small giggle at the way he's working.
"Do you always work naked like that? Especially after what just happened?" You tease. San smirks before giving your head a playful but gentle rub.
"Only if you're around."
"You're sick." He laughs.
"Why, is it distracting?" You giggle and shake your head, shoving your face further down into the pillow to avoid eye contact.
"No." You mumble into the pillow. 
"Then, why can't you look at me?" You peek from the pillow, catching San looking straight down at you with a small smile on his face. "Gotta beg for a kiss, too?" You roll your eyes and shift upwards to give him a peck on the lips before sinking back down into the sheets. "Good girl."
"In all seriousness though, do you always have a ton of work to catch up on at night?"
"Mm, I just prefer to catch up on things at night. Sometimes, it's easier to get through it when I'm winding down." He lets out a small sigh as he continues to scroll through his inbox and reply to a few emails. He also needs to work on some more grant-related things that he's been kinda putting off. "No biggie, though." He looks at you. "Getting sleepy now?"
"A bit. Good thing I caught up on everything before leaving."
"How'd you know you'd be busy?" He laughs a bit.
"You're so annoying. Plus, I'd rather not do my homework around you."
"Why? I can be of help."
"No, Professor Choi. Leave me to my own work." You mutter as you turn the other way and shut your eyes for a little longer. San lets out a small laugh before typing away on his laptop. It isn't long before you've stopped moving and he hears your soft breathing against the pillow, causing him to smile to himself. He leans over to press a kiss against your head, whispering a quick 'goodnight beautiful' before resuming his work. He works for another 15 minutes before he feels exhaustion taking over his body. He shuts off his laptop and sets it aside, snuggling under the covers and pulling you close as he quickly drifts off to sleep with you in his arms.
When the next morning comes, you wake up from the best sleep you've had in awhile. The sheets are keeping you warm and cozy, the mattress feels perfect against your body— everything feels perfect, except there's no San and you're yearning for him already.
You've barely been awake and all you want is San.
Luckily for you, you hear his footsteps as he comes up the steps right at that moment. When he turns into the room, he's already dressed in today's attire: a cream-colored long-sleeve henley top and jeans.
"Hey." San sits on the edge of the bed and runs his soft hand up and down your bare back. You look at him lazily, threatening to fall back asleep with the way his fingers lightly run across the surface.
"Hi." You look at him sweetly and he feels his heart melt. He could get used to this.
"Going back to sleep?"
"Mm." You stretch a bit and sit up, grabbing the covers to shield your naked body. "I should probably get up and get ready to head back."
"Do you have to?" He whines.
"Yes." You giggle. "My friends are probably gonna try and bother me before class. And in case you've forgotten, sir, I have to help Sunwoo fix the 2P for our work in your lab."
"Sexy."
"You're too much." You tease, making San chuckle. "Do you have meetings in between class today?"
"Mm, yeah. A few. I have to meet with Chris and Jongho about this ongoing collaboration discussion and some last minute symposium things, then I have to meet with some donors."
"Goodluck."
"Thank you, baby." He caresses your chin before kissing your forehead. "Come downstairs when you're done getting ready."
"Okay." You stretch as San heads to his office really quickly before heading back down to the kitchen. You strut to bathroom to wash up and get ready for your day, throwing on the same outfit you had on when San picked you up. After gathering your things and fixing San's bed, you head downstairs and find that San's got a cup of coffee and a breakfast plate fixed for you. He's standing near the counter, sipping his coffee while scrolling through his phone.
"Breakfast?" He smiles at you before wrapping an arm around you, pulling you in for kiss.
"Thank you."
Even though things feel too good to be true, you could definitely get used to this.
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loulovingho · 3 days ago
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I 100% agree with you that that was lazy writing. What was the point of deliberately picking someone the audience (and the 118) were familiar with to be Buck's LI when they could have picked some random. What was the point in delving into Tommy's history and his feelings, what was the point of showing him head over heels for Buck in the last ep, of getting a gift for their 6 month anniversary only to say "oh well, I figured we wouldn't last, so I'm gonna get out now before you break my heart". Why let him get that involved if Tommy's ideology was to never allow himself to move forward in the relationship because ultimately he thought it wouldn't last? It's whiplash for the audience after you saw how INVESTED Tommy was in the last ep! And how exactly is this Buck getting off the hamster wheel? This relationship has ended pretty much exactly like all his others - he gets invested, they leave! They had so much potential as a couple - seeing what it's like for two fire-fighters to date knowing they're both in risky jobs, maybe Buck having to meet/deal with Tommy's homophobic father, getting to explore a "new" character's back story instead of rehashing the same story lines from the mains as well as seeing more of how Buck deals with being in a same sex relationship. All wasted.
And since they referenced Glee, if the plan is for it to echo the Kurt/Blaine relationship in that show where they broke up so they could "explore" before getting back together, by doing so they ruined that relationship so much that by the end it wasn't satisfying that they WERE endgame - they weren't the couple we fell in love with. (And also, way to reinforce the negative stereotype of "you can't ever be long term with your first". I should let my sister, my cousin and my aunt know even though they've all been married for years to their husbands - all their first.) Even if they do decide to bring Tommy back down the line, would it even be the same relationship we fell in love with? Would we even trust the writers to stick with it and treat it well? Or if they did a final episode reunion so Buck doesn't end the series alone, how is that satisfying for the audience?
I have been watching 911 since it started, and I have always been part of the general audience up until S7 where I joined the fandom because I thought Buck/Tommy were adorable. It's the first time in years I've become invested in a couple on a show. It's the first time in years that I've dipped my toes back into a fandom. Like you, this ship inspired me to write fic again. I have a bunch of wip's waiting to be posted on ao3 and I honestly don't know if I'll finish them now. And if they have broken them up for Buddie to get together I think I'll stop watching. And not just because I never saw them as a romantic couple (I only ever saw a deep friendship) but because logistically I don't see it working. Besides the fact that I think that while they work as friends, they probably wouldn't gel as a couple, two people on the same team in a relationship? That will screw up the 118 dynamic, especially as this show looooves relationship drama. If they get in a fight, or worse, break up, then what? How would that work within the 118, unless someone transfers out, but then it's bye bye the 118 we love. And not to mention, in the only 4 months I have been in this fandom I have seen some VILE crap from the buddies, and from what I understand it they've been like that for years. And the show runners know about it, so if they go with Buddie, congratulations, you've rewarded toxic behaviour and given them a license to be worse (look at them already, going in the bucktommy tags and gloating).
I told myself after Glee ended and they royally screwed everything up that I wouldn't watch another Ryan Murphy show because he has a history of doing that sort of thing. When 911 came along I was cautious, but it looked like it would be different - more grown up if you will, especially since Ryan Murphy hasn't really been involved since season 1. I should have just gone with my gut. I just hope that, knowing these last two eps were filmed weeks before they aired, the showrunners see how popular they were and realise crap, we've made a BIG mistake. (Everyone should flood instagram and especially Facebook, whoch is more GA than most social media platforms, with RESPECTFUL comments about how devastated they are, and who knows, it might make them consider bringing Tommy back sometime in 8b - I believe they're still writing the back half of the season.)
Side note, I feel really sorry for Lou. Yeah he's going back to SWAT, and I love him in that (even though his character can be a dick sometimes) but he's said in interviews how he's tired of always being cast as "the muscle" due to his size and he seemed genuinely happy to get this role, which was exactly what he was looking for - the sweet, caring, romantic love interest role where he could show some depth, and they screwed him over (sounds like he even thought Buck and Tommy were doing well and wasn't expecting the break up until the end).
(Apologies for the long rant. But what you've been saying really resonated with me and I needed to share your sentiments.)
.
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do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 2 days ago
Text
It hurts to feel, to think, to know I may be nothing
(a kind of fix-it for 8x06)
The knocking on his door is insistent, almost angry. 
Tommy looks at the alarm clock next to his bed. The glowing digits, the only and quite pale light in the room, show 2:45 am. Who would knock on his door at this hour? There's this little tiny heart stumble that gives him a name in response, which he immediately suppresses. Tommy, who is lying on his bed fully dressed and can't sleep anyway, just hopes it's not him. Not … Buck. He couldn't bear that, not now. No pleading from those Bambi eyes, no broken voice with a stutter worse than ever. He wouldn't be able to look at the man and think of him as detached as he had called him when he left, he wouldn't be able to see anything other than Evan, and that would be wrong. Tommy weighed this thought back and forth in his head, trying to make it somehow more correct. 
The knocking is still energetic, it just won't stop. Tommy sighs. He considers just lying there, playing dead and staring at the ceiling until whoever is at the door leaves. But if it's Evan, if it really is him, then he can be trusted to knock all night. Or to try to break down the door. Although... No, he wouldn't do that. Unless he was drunk. Tommy remembers the story of when the Bachelor party got out of hand and a door was kicked in. His thoughts go round in circles, and he sighs again. It sounds theatrical in his empty bedroom, but that's the way it is. He slowly gets up, swings his legs out of bed and shuffles to the door. 
This little stab in his heart, which is not relief but disappointment, is pathetic. It’s not Evan, of course not.
It’s Eddie.
Definitely, the first thing Evan would do is go to Eddie. Then, probably in the early morning, to Bobby. Or to his sister. Heck, he’ll see all his friends because he can; and that thought somehow hurts even more. Tommy isn't afraid that Evan will make him look like a bad guy. He has every right to grieve and seek comfort. It's just that he can. From whom does Tommy find comfort?
In any case, Eddie, who looks a little disheveled and a little drunk with his red cheeks, doesn't exactly appear like someone who wants to console him. 
“Have you checked the time?” Tommy asks gruffly. 
“I did, but have you checked your brain?”
Eddie taps him on the forehead with two fingers, then pushes past him without being asked, casually dropping onto the couch in the living room. 
“This isn't the best time, Eddie,” Tommy says wearily. Yes, he is tired, even if he can't sleep. 
“Might be. But that's what this is all about, isn't it?”
That hurts, and Tommy feels anger building behind his forehead, which will be a decent headache in a few hours. Unshed tears, that's how Abby used to call it. Abby, with whom everything began and somehow everything ended. All the shame and anger about himself make Tommy's muscles tense. 
“Don't think you’d understand.”
Tommy stands there with his arms crossed, defensive, as he has been all his life, but Eddie is not impressed. Of course not, why would he. Eddie has told him stories of Afghanistan and the dirt he's been through. One man’s defensive attitude hardly impresses him. 
“Why not?”
“Because you've never been in that situation, quite simply.”
“Oh, so you want to use my non-existent queer experience against me, do you? Shallow.”
Tommy lets out a long breath and growls, “What exactly do you want, Eddie?”
“I want to know why.”
A simple sentence, a simple statement, but Tommy feels like he's been deflated. He searches for words, but they are hard to find.
“Listen,” he finally says, ”I know you're here as E… as Buck’s friend. That’s sweet, but…”
“That's true,” Eddie replies surprisingly soberly, ”but I'm also here as your friend. Sometimes we need our people to tell us we're being silly.”
Of course, he speaks from experience. That's kind of the point, and now it's bursting out of Tommy. 
“I managed well on my own for years,” he says, the words tumbling out of his mouth. “I've been through it all, the self-denial, the shame, the half-hearted relationships. Evan will never have to experience that, and I'm grateful for that. But still... this guy just stumbled into my life, no, rather rolled through it like a steamroller.”
"He broke your barriers," Eddie interrupts him. 
Tommy gives him a look. Eddie actually understands. Why is he so surprised? Tommy doesn't give away his friendship lightly, and Eddie is more profound than he pretends to be. Or even than his friends sometimes think. Which, by the way, is also true of Evan, which is where he starts chasing his own tail, right?
“He did. And he comes with a lot of luggage.”
“Oh yes,” Eddie laughs. Then, he narrows his eyes, watching Tommy intently. “Wait, you don’t  mean his past and all?”
Tommy drops into the armchair opposite the sofa and shakes his head. 
“We... actually didn't really talk much about the past. It was more like...”
“The heat of the moment?”
Tommy doesn’t have to ponder about that, because it’s true. Every new relationship is like this, everything is exciting and full of icing. You don't use the time you have with questions. They didn't have much time, that's the curse of shift work and a life as a first responder. 
“Suddenly, half a year has passed,” he says with wonder. “And then he says he wants to move in with me.”
“Were you afraid of the next step?”
The way Eddie phrases this question tells him that Evan hasn't fully understood what happened. He's sorry for that, but he's sorry for so much, it's just more grief on top of a big pile of sorrow. 
“I'm just afraid of losing my heart,” Tommy returns, and strangely enough, Eddie laughs again.
“Do you think that's funny?”
Eddie raises his hands defensively, “What I actually find funny is that you lost your heart a long time ago, Tommy. You left the man standing outside the restaurant and gave him a second chance anyway. You’re the first contact in his phone. You're the one with the ice packs, the one who buried his stupid curse with him.”
“You would have done all that too.”
“Sure, except for the part about the funeral maybe, but only because Buck and I are on terms where you can tell your friend that he's being stupid. You, on the other hand... you have heart eyes when you see him. You stroke his hand in passing, you hold back on the kisses when anybody is around only to protect him.”
“You noticed that?”
“I noticed a few things,” says Eddie. “Especially that Buck feels the same way about you. There comes a point in every relationship when you take off your rose-tinted glasses. The only mistake you've made is convincing yourself that this will end anyway.”
“But it will,” Tommy replies dispassionately. 
“Because you're his first? That's stupid, Tommy.”
“What would you know about it?” Tommy replies heatedly.
Eddie tilts his head, “Didn't you listen when I told you about Shannon? I married my first love. I know what you're thinking, of course, it didn't end well, yada yada. But it wasn't because we didn't love each other, Tommy. We were very young and very stupid, and it hurts me to see two grown men like you, who also love each other very much, behaving so stupidly.”
Tommy sinks down in his chair.
“He acts impulsively,” he interjects. “He doesn't know what he's getting himself into, and in the end, when he understands that he needs more, he'll leave. And that will hurt a lot more.”
“Maybe,” Eddie says and stands up. As unasked as he came in, he steps up to Tommy's fridge and rummages through it for a can of beer. Then he points it at Tommy and says, “But not having loved will hurt more. Being too much of a coward hurts.”
“I'm not a coward.”
“Yes, you are, because you're running away from your own feelings. And not even giving Buck the chance to prove to you that he's worth brightening up your lonely life.”
“Now you sound like a guy in a soap opera,” Tommy says sourly.
“Nah, I sound like someone who has screwed up so much in his life that he should be the last person to give advice to others. But this is Buck we're talking about, and he's just a whining misery sleeping on my couch. And it’s about you, a friend I’m fond of.”
He takes a deep sip and grimaces.
“I think you've had enough for today,” says Tommy. 
“Guess you're right.”
Eddie gets up, and to his credit, it has to be noted that he doesn't sway. Or just a little bit. 
“Let me summarize the whole mess like this: you fucked up, Buck doesn't understand why, and honestly I don't quite get it either. But what I do understand is that you should work it out together. Tomorrow morning… no wait, in a couple of hours. Sleep, then come over, and bring breakfast.”
“I don't know if that's such a good idea.”
The worst part is that there is a certain hopefulness in Tommy's voice, it almost cracks. Evan hasn't done anything wrong, and it's probably only right that he at least tells him that. Even if it hurts. Because Eddie is actually right - it will hurt no matter what, and it's better to love than to grieve over a love that could never evolve. 
“But I do.”
There is so much confidence in Eddie's voice. Something has happened to him, and one day Tommy will ask him about it. Now he holds on to his own door and nods weakly.
“Let me sleep on it,” he says. 
Eddie winks at him as he leaves.
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iridescentmirrorsgenshin · 2 days ago
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Hi! Thank you so much for all your analysis, I really enjoy them!! Did you find it strange when Alhaitham, at the end of the event, said he is not interested in visiting the temple of Silence for that gem? Because Alhaitham has always been one to pursue knowledge (sometimes to the extreme, i.g archon quest, where he offers to be taken as a hostage instead to learn more about the truth) Even Kaveh was confused by his answer. I wonder if Alhaitham only meant it in a "I wouldn't go through the trouble JUST for this gem" or if this might be a potential hint to his next storyquest? Idk, it just stood out to me that even Kaveh commented on it, when he knows Alhaitham the best.
i'm glad you enjoy them, thank you so much!! anon this is a delicious sumptuous question, this ??? inkling has been rattling around in my head since finishing the quest, so thank you for giving me a chance to break my own thoughts down about this!
alhaitham's own thoughts about the wedjat eye are that there is little more research to be carried out, as the wedjat eye is perceived as a piece of history, whose purpose and meaning has already been identified - and this can contrast against his active research pursuit with the forbidden canned knowledge capsules as it was uncertain what danger they posed, and the root of the danger
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but kaveh points out (as you rightfully say) that since the gem is a legendary historical artifact, it's strange that alhaitham isn't interested in at least seeing it, to which alhaitham states that he refuses to go to the temple of silence to do so because it's too far for him, which is so funny to me??
as if he isn't seen roaming around in the desert and going on research trips to ruins in his character trailer, as well as the latter part of the archon quest taking place in the desert. i suppose that since alhaitham had personal motives to be in the desert these times, and, apparently the wedjat eye doesn't particularly interest him, that he isn't willing to make the journey this time, okay give us nothing!!!
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alhaitham brings up the chance of the wedjat eye being brought to the akademiya for appraisal, and says that in that case, he would take a look, as he likes to know when interesting things are brought to the akademiya - which can be seen as well in his story quest, where he keeps files on interest on his desk that the player can read
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i think it's interesting that it is sethos himself who directly invites alhaitham to look at the wedjat eye for research when it's now contained in the temple of silence, as in cyno's second story quest, when the temple of silence is explored, sethos gives cyno and lord kusanali permission to choose people deemed "worthy" to pursue knowledge in the temple of silence, warning that they must be careful with their choice of candidates
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cyno then extends this invitation to kaveh and alhaitham, with them seemingly being these 'candidates', as kaveh says he is interested in visiting the temple of silence in order to look through ancient documents, with cyno saying "that day will come" which seems to imply the temple of silence being at the centre of some future event
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each sumeru event (an odd textual mystery and now nahida's birthday event) since then has, of course, included sethos, as he is now a mainline sumeru cast character, and the mention of the wedjat eye now belonging to the temple of silence is consistent with maintaining the organisation as a pivotal part of sumeru
whilst alhaitham's reluctance to physically go there seems to be for comedic purposes, in line with him not helping with the celebrations as it isn't part of his job description (oh but you can head on over to port ormos for no apparent reason to yap with kaveh and leave to go back to the house of daena? like it's a brisk stroll away?? SICK!) i think it's very likely that we'll get more of an exploration of the temple silence in future events (or perhaps a sethos hangout which i am once again asking for), especially (as you say) alhaitham is associated with pursuing knowledge, and the temple of silence is described by sethos to be the hub of this, i'll assume that there has to be something there that entices him to make the journey
as for the wedjat eye being brought to the akademiya, i'm not so sure if this will be explored in an event or character story? the purpose of it seems to be fully explored in this event, with candace being the only one to be able to operate it, and with alhaitham saying that there's no need to study it further could be a narrative choice of essentially wrapping up this story thread - but who knows?? (thinking along these lines, it's notable that candace shows the wedjat eye to the traveller and paimon, but doesn't reveal it to alhaitham and kaveh when directly discussing it, ensuring that the two never see it...? worms in brain actually)
going back to the temple of silence, the information it actually possesses regarding king deshret's civilisation being a mystery, as well as the wedjat eye being a gift from king deshret now being contained there, (along with mehrak's core being from king deshret's civilisation which i think would be very !!! to explore), is really interesting to me, especially with the emphasis on there coming a 'day' in which it's possible for the temple of silence to be explored by the main crew, or those that cyno and nahida select as candidates. i'm very much hopeful that hoyo will fulfill this foreshadowing!!
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sturnioloszn · 13 hours ago
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ICE BOUND (3) - M.S
summary; while sneaking around with the team captain, you both lose track of time and get caught in the very act you tried so hard to keep a secret.
warnings; smut, unprotected sex (pls wrap the willy), semi-blowjob?, dirty talk, praising, arguing, getting caught.
a/n; this is gonna be kinda long, but it is the last part of this "mini series", idek if this counts as a series lmfao, it's just multiple oneshots from the same storyline? idk, either way; i hope you enjoy it. 💙
P1, P2
★ ° . *  ° . °☆  . * ● ¸.    ★  ° :. ★  * •
Matt and I have been together for just over 4 months, and it's been everything and more. He's insanely thoughtful and caring, which is hard to believe considering the reputation hockey guys get.
Apart from the fact that Matt literally worships the ground I step on, he always makes sure I feel loved in ALL departments. If I was sad, dick. If I was angry, dick. If I was horny, dick. And I have to admit, he must be magic because it works every. single. time.
A notification pings on my phone, snapping me out of my daydreams; I know exactly who the text is from. I quickly unlocked my phone to reply to Matt's message.
He was driving over to my house right now even though he had practice. He made up some shitty excuse to my dad about how he "caught a cold" and therefore couldn't make it, but it was all a lie just to see me. It was sweet that he'd skip practice to be with me, but I wish he still went, I know how much hockey means to him.
A few moments later, I heard a knock at my front door, I catapulted myself down the stairs to go open it. I'm met with Matt's sweet smile, and it leaves me in awe. I throw myself into him, wrapping my arms around his torso, and he pulls me into him tighter.
He rests his chin on top of my head, sinking into the hug. He was wearing a black, 'ransom' hoodie and sweats, which contrasted with his pale skin and eyes.
I'm sure he wasn't impressed with my outift, I was in one of his hoodies and plaid pyjama pants; but I wouldn't be wearing anything in a few minutes, so it didn't really matter.
He breaks away from the hug, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. "How's my pretty girl?" He asks, letting the nickname he made for me roll off his tongue.
"Good, missed you, though," I reply, letting him into the house and shutting the door behind us. We move up to my bedroom, and we both pretend like we don't know what's about to happen.
"So what'd 'coach' say about you missing practice," I ask, falling back onto my bed and pulling him on with me; he climbs between my legs so that we are face to face.
"He told me to get better soon, said he couldn't practice without his 'star player'," he smirks, leaning down to invite me into a warm kiss. His lips moving against mine is the personification of heaven, and it makes my heart flutter each time they touch.
He continues to softly abuse my lips, licking and biting at them while soft whimpers involuntarily escape my lips. He then moves away from my lips and dips his head down to the crook of my neck, where he continues his work.
I tilt my head backwards into the mattress to grant him more access as I reach down between our bodies and gently grab hold of his bulge, which has formed in his sweats. A low groan flees his lips when I start palming him softly through the material.
"You feel that, baby? It's all yours," He breathes out, struggling to continue the work on my neck. I smile and bring him back to my lips so that I can keep feeling him, but it's not long before he breaks our contact again to speak, "I need your lips wrapped around me so bad,"
"Yeah?" I taunt, sitting up, causing him to also sit up. I slide off the bed and land on my knees in front of him while he moves to sit on the edge of the bed. I look up at him through my lashes as I grab hold of the waistband of his sweats.
He places his hands over mine and helps push them down to his mid-thigh. I examine the view in front of me, his large cock straining against his boxers, so much that there's a little wet patch on his boxers.
"Do I make you wet, baby?" I tease, grabbing hold of his cock still in his underwear. He leans his head back, giving me a view of his adam apple as he thickly swallows.
"You make me so wet," he agrees, his voice so low that by breathing too hard, you'd miss it. I finally pull his boxers down to where his sweats are and his cock springs free.
I spit into my hand before wrapping it around his base and slowly pumping it a few times until beads of pre-cum form at his tip. I lean down and lick him clean before bringing his tip into my mouth completely. I suck on his swollen head, releasing it only to swirl my tongue around it.
"Fuck- just like that," he mutters, tangling one of his calloused hands into my hair. Just as I'm about to place his dick back into my mouth, my bedroom door flings open.
"DAD?!" I shriek, quickly pulling away from Matt, jumping to my feet. Matt hurriedly pulls his boxers and sweats up, also jumping to his feet.
The door semi-closes after he realises what is going on, but he still stands behind it. "WHAT THE FUCK!" He yells. He's obviously livid. At this point, my face is painted red, and Matt also has blush covering his cheeks and nose.
"ARE YOU DECENT?!" He continues to yell. Oh God. How did I not even hear the front door open? And why is he back already? Did practice already finish?
"Yes," we both mutter in unison, lowering our gaze as he walks back in. I fiddle with a loose thread on my hoodie, trying to ignore the glares being thrown at us.
"Does anyone care to explain what is going on?" He asks more calmly but still very furious. I don't bother looking up, indicating Matt to speak.
"I'm sorry, coach," Matt apologises, his eyes glued to the ground. You could almost hear Matt's heart beating out from his chest, except that mine was much louder.
"I'm sorry? That's all you have to say to say after lying to me so that you could skip practice and sneak around with my daughter?!" He says, becoming more angry again, his voice bouncing off the walls.
We stood there in silence as my father's gaze tore us apart. I've never felt so humiliated in my entire life.
"Matthew, get out of my house, and you are never to see each other again, understood?" He speaks firmly.
"Dad, that's not fair!" I argue back, finally meeting his gaze. He couldn't decide who I could and couldn't see.
"I'm not arguing with you. He is leaving immediately and not coming back. He should count himself lucky he isn't already kicked from the team," He says, looking over at Matt.
Matt swallows, "I'm sorry, coach, bye y/n," he says, walking out of my room. Now that he is gone, the air is much denser, and the silence grew louder. My dad stood in front of me, not uttering a sound because the look on his face was speaking a million words.
"I'm so disappointed in you. You're going to stay in your room and think about your actions," he says, moving to also leave my room. As he grabs the door handle to close it, he mutters, "and you are to stay away from him," before closing the door shut.
The second the door closes, I hunt for my phone to shoot Matt a text. I tell him not to worry and that I'll try to explain the situation later, but he says that it won't change anything.
I feel horrible for dragging him into this mess. I single-handedly ruined hockey for him now, or at least hockey with my father.
A few hours have passed now, and my phone receives a notification. I open it to see a message from Matt. I don't have time to even read what it says before I hear a knock at my window.
I jump from the unexpected noise, and I look to see Matt crouched outside my window. I quickly go open the window to let him in.
"What are you doing here?!" I shout whispered at him, not wanting my father downstairs to hear me speaking to someone.
"Did y'really think I was gonna stay away from my pretty girl? Especially with blue balls," he laughs, bringing me into a quick kiss. I smile into the kiss, finding this all too amusing. Our kiss very quickly becomes deeper and more passionate with his hands raking up and down my body.
"Do you want to?" He asks, clearly referring to sex. I nod at his question, and he walks me backwards into my bed, making me fall onto it. While moving his lips deliberately against mine, he slips both of us out of our clothes until we're left in just our underwear.
He places gentle kisses all over my body, his hands gripping my hips, keeping me firmly in place as I squirm.
"Is the door locked this time?" He asks, looking up towards my bedroom door, I shake my head.
"Go close it, sweetheart," he encourages, pulling away from me. I stand up and go lock my bedroom door, trying to be gentle so that my father doesn't hear a thing. As I spin back around, I see Matt leaning against the headboard with his boxers pulled down and his hands firmly stroking his cock.
I timidly walk back to him and stand at his side, "c'mere, baby," he hushes, patting his thighs. I pull my shorts and soaked panties down at the same time before climbing over him to place my legs on either side of him. He rests both of his hands on my hips as I now comfortably straddle him.
He moves his middle finger to play with my folds, "shit, you're so wet. Is this all for me, hm?" he asks, slowly collecting the wetness that had formed. I nod my head and rut my hips on his hand, seeking even more treasure. "You're so impatient," he chuckles before removing his hand and bringing his finger to my lips so that I could suck it clean.
He then roughly grabs hold of me with one hand and uses the other to line his cock up with my entrance. He gives me a small tap to indicate that he's ready when I am, and I slowly sink down into his cock.
"Fuck, Matt," I moan, taking him fully, and he's already so deep. His head is slung backwards, resting against the headboard as I begin to rock my hips; I grab onto his shoulders for the minimal support they offer.
My movements become rougher and more ragged, causing the bed to creak slightly under our movements. He grabs onto my hips tighter, forcing me to move slower even though I wanted the opposite.
"Shhh, we have to be quiet, baby. Can't let your dad hear you riding me so good," he groans, his eyebrows furrowing but nevertheless fighting to keep eye contact with me.
I moan as a response and start bouncing on him instead. He notices my tits bouncing up and down in my top and lifts it up to get a better look. He brings both hands up to squeeze and play with them as I keep moving up and down but this only brings me closer to the edge.
"Matt...I'm gonna...come," I say, my movements becoming much more unsteady. My legs are becoming weaker, and I'm unable to keep up the pace. I then feel him move his hands back to my hips.
"Let me finish the job, pretty girl, you've done so good," he praises, gripping my hips intensely, forcing me to still but instantly replacing my movement by thrusting his hips up. He continuously rams into me, abusing my g-spot. I feel the heat in my lower stomach become unbearable, and I can't control it anymore.
"Fuck-I'm coming...fuck, fuck, fuck," I chant throwing my head back and grinding my hips to fuck him back. I feel his cock twitch, indicating that he's also close. I clench my pussy around him, encouraging him to shoot his cum deep into me.
"OH FUCK- baby, yes, just like that, you feel so good," he babbles, slowing his thrusts, fucking his cum into me. I collapse onto his chest, moulding our sweaty bodies into one. I'm panting heavily, trying to slow my breathing, and I feel Matt's heart beating roughly against my skin.
I finally have the strength to disconnect our bodies and look at him, "thank you, that was amazing," I smile.
"Thank YOU, you have no idea how much pain I was in," he smiles back. I give him a small peck on his lips before sliding off from him and onto my mattress. "Let me clean you up, pretty girl," he says, walking to get some tissue to clean his cum that is dripping out of my pussy and the remains of it from his dick.
He then laid back in bed with me but told me he had to leave soon because he didn't want to risk being caught by my dad again. I understood and didn't blame him; it was incredibly embarrassing the first time. We did not need a repeat.
Before I knew it, Matt was climbing back out of my window to leave. It made me sad that he couldn't stay longer, but I knew it was for the better right now.
As the night went on, I became more infuriated with the fact that my dad thinks he can control who I can see, well he can't. I finally reached breaking point, and I stormed downstairs to give him a piece of my mind.
"Why did you kick Matt out before?" I ask, trying to keep my cool. I stare at my dad, whose eyesight doesn't even wander from the hockey match playing on the tv in front of him.
"Because," he answered shortly. What kind of answer was that?? He can't just say 'because', who does he think he is?
"Because what?" I push further.
"Because he's on my hockey team, and I don't even know why you have boys in your room anyway. You're not allowed," he says, his eyes never leaving the tv.
"I'm nineteen, I'm not a little girl anymore," I say, already becoming upset with his answer. He can't treat me like a baby forever.
"You are a little girl. You don't understand boys and what they really want," he says, keeping his eyes firm on the tv. I can't believe this right now. How gullible and stupid does he think I am? I feel myself becoming more worked up over this than I probably should.
"I do understand because I'm not stupid, and I'm old enough to make my own decisions," I speak, becoming louder.
"No, you don't. Boys only want one thing, and that's to get in your pants," he says, his eyes finally meeting mine.
"Not Matt, he doesn't care about that. He cares about me," I say, swallowing harshly.
"Is that really what you think? God, you have a lot to learn," he scoffs.
"Yes, I do think that because Matt and I have been dating for over 4 months, and he's shown nothing but love for me. I'm sorry you and mom didn't work out, but that's not my fault. I'm gonna build my own relationships, and you can't do anything about it because they aren't your decisions to make. And if it bothers you that much, I'll move out!" I yell without thinking.
My mini rant made him fall silent, with nothing left to say he's just staring at me. Regret starts to seep into my thoughts. I shouldn't have brought up mom or threatened to move out.
"We'll talk about this tomorrow," he says calmly, getting up from the couch and turning the tv off. I'm left frozen in place as I watch him walk to his room. I messed up.
I eventually find the willpower to walk back up to my room, and I can't help but let tears fall. I was curled up on my bed, thinking about everything. I wondered how my relationship with Matt was going to change and how Matt's relationship with his coach was going to change, and for some reason I even thought of mom, even though I hadn't seen her in years.
I let these thoughts infiltrate my mind until I feel my puffy eyelids become heavy. I wipe the remaining tears from my cheeks and pull the blanket closer. I fell asleep to the thought of Matt holding me closer, comforting me.
-
I'm woken by the sun beating down on my face through my gap in my curtains. I slowly sit up, rubbing my eyes so that they can adjust to the sunlight in the room.
As I walk downstairs, I see someone sitting at the kitchen table. Walking closer, I see that it's...Matt?
Before I have the chance to question him, my dad walks over. All three of us now in the kitchen.
"Y/n sit down," my dad says, reading my very confused expression. I pull out the chair next to Matt, giving him a small smile, which he reciprocates.
"I've been thinking, and you're right. You are old enough to make your own decisions, and I'm sorry for the way I reacted," he speaks, his voice laced with sincerity. "But you'll always be my little girl," he adds, his eyes watering slightly.
By now, my own tears are falling. "I'm sorry too," I sob, standing from my seat and going to hug him; he embraces me warmly.
As we break away from the hug, we turn to look at Matt, who is still sitting down, now smiling.
"I can't stop you guys from being together, but I'm not ready for grandkids yet, so please just-" he pleads, being cut off by Matt.
"Neither are we, sir, don't worry," Matt chuckles. My dad gives him a nod, walking out of the room; I walk over to Matt, wrapping my arms around him.
He tries to bring my lips to his, but I quickly pull away, "nope, I still have morning breath," I laugh.
He shakes his head and roughly pulls me to him, connecting our lips. I give him a quick kiss before pulling away again.
"I love you," I whisper, looking into his eyes, scared that I'd drown in them and never be found again.
"I love you more," he says, matching my tone.
We stood there for what felt like an eternity, being lost in each other's eyes. And I pondered on the thought 'what would have happened if I never accompanied my dad to that practice session?'
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a/n; that's a wrappp. i hope you guys enjoyed this, and thank you so much for all the support on my posts. 1.2k notes on JEALOUS and 300 followers??? that's insane, but I'm so so thankful for all everything. i love you all <33.
Taglist; @idrk2292 @aalixsturns @aalicats87 @045696 @forgottxen @mattsturniolover @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut
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gremlinmodetweeker · 3 hours ago
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In the cat AU would either guy feel bad if they give reader a particularly bad scratch or bite. I imagine after reader pulling cat!König away from food he gets a good scratch on their face. LOVE YOUR WRITING and have an amazing day !!!
Oh my goodness you are far too sweet! I genuinely cannot express how thankful I am for these lovely comments!
But yes, how would the kitters feel after scratching Owner? Well, the simple answer is: bad. But how bad? That varies.
Horangi is a bit of an ass. He's got a massive ego and in turn justifies all his bad acts. He's not a thief, he's a collector! He isn't loud and obnoxious, he's got a bombastic personality! And if he's trying to bat at you and get your attention but accidentally catches your skin instead of your sleeve? Well then that's just your fault. You should've been staying still instead of pacing nervously in your room. He tried to show you he cared, but you went ahead and made it worse!
Most of the time, Horangi is the one to use claws anyways. He loves to hide around corners and under furniture to attack your feet. He's a brutal beast. But, if he does dig in too far, he'll go off about how you shouldn't be such vulnerable prey. He's trying to make you a better solider! You should be prepared for attack at all times!
After König sits on him for a minute he does relent. He finally admits it was a mistake and yes, of course he feels bad. Why wouldn't he feel bad for hurting you? You're his owner, after all! He loves you!
After an hour (of König forcing him to fess up), he'll pad over and try to play with you. He'll bring over a toy for fetch or some sort of toy to play. If he really got you bad, he'll brush his head against your side and let you scratch his head. Horangi doesn't often like to be pet, but he'll tolerate it to make it up to you.
König is a bit different. König is prone to accidentally scratching, but not because he tries to attack you or swat at you like Horangi. In truth, König is actually a very cuddly sweet cat. He's a bit grungy, but he's a very loving cat. The problem with König is that he's anxious all the time.
When I was young, I had a very nervous cat. I feel bad because I didn't help that cat in any way (I'd always try to play with her and she did not like that) but she was also just naturally an anxious cat. She had a very interesting thing where she never fully sheathed her claws. She was always on edge, so wherever she went you'd hear a little tap tap tap tap tap when she walked on the linoleum floors. She was only ever silent on carpet.
König is much the same. He's always anxious as a cat, so he's always got his claws out a bit. It's so natural for him that he just... forgets. He forgets that he hasn't actually fully retracted his claws. So sometimes he'll playfully bat at you and accidentally leave a scratch or two. Sometimes, he might just be desperate to run away from a bath and accidentally digs in deep into your arm, or you're trying to drag him away from the food and he gets a good scratch in.
He's immediately distraught. He is bending over backwards to try and cuddle you to say sorry after. He genuinely adores you and he can't believe he accidentally hurt his precious owner. He'll often try to lick the wounds and will purposefully force himself to fully retract his claws so he can 'hug' your hands and nuzzle against you. He really goes over the top with apologies.
So, Horangi is a dick, but that's kind of expected of him. König is a big softie that feels terrible, that's also expected. What's not expected is that they actually try to make it up to you. They're both very loving cats, albeit in their own ways.
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sylvanas-girlkisser · 1 day ago
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Tinfoil out for Rell Medarda
So after my earlier post about the whole Rell/Mel/Ambessa thing, I got to thinking, and now I'm making it everyone's problem.
Spoilers ahead:
In the season 2 opening we get these shots (not all in sequence):
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Ambessa sitting lazily on a couch holding a black rose
Mel looking uncomfortable surrounded by shadowy hands
Mel sitting on the same couch, lit so her shadow resembles Ambessa
So, Ambessa is in deep shit with the Black Rose right? They nearly killed her once, they've stripped her of most of her power and influence, and now they've kidnapped Mel. We know Ambessa would do anything to keep her family safe, and that doubtlessly include sacrificing her own life.
The most widespread Rell Medarda theory seems to be that she's Mel's younger sister, with the main counterpoint being that Rell's mom is described as "the heir to a fallen noble house" which doesn't make sense as a descriptor for Ambessa, yeah her house is falling but she's the head not the heir to the house.
And that's when it struck me: House Medarda is crumbling, but so is Mel's own empire. She's losing her sway over the council, her main ally wants to retire from politics, and a civil war is not good for business.
Which is to say nothing of the fact that it's more or less confirmed now that she's got magic, which last i checked is still very much banned in Piltover.
Also there's this promo image of Mel floating around which looks... Distinctly Noxian, at least compared to what she wears in S2A1
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Do you see where I'm going with this?
Let's say that by the end of Arcane season 2, Ambessa is dead, house Medarda is in ruins, Mel's own fortune isn't doing much better, and suddenly everyone finds out she's a mage. Who knows maybe she even becomes the scapegoat for everything that happened between Piltover and Zaun.
She's exiled back to Noxus, and has to attempt to rebuild her empire from nothing. Somewhere in the process of doing so she has a daughter. A daughter with a whole lot of magical potential.
Next thing she knows, she's got the Black Rose banging down her door to get their hands on her daughter. Sure it might leave a bitter taste in her mouth to deal with them, but Mel knows business, and isn't there a degree of poetry to the people who ruined her, also being the ones to restore her to power.
"But hold on" you might say "Mel is a kind and loving person, her biggest goal in life is to be different from Ambessa, that sounds nothing like Rell's mom."
Did you know that when Britney Spears wanted her toddlers to calm down, she would give them pacifiers dipped in whiskey, because that's what her parents did to her growing up, and she genuinely didn't realize it was harmful.
Breaking the cycle isn't easy at the best of times, and if Mel is also having to fend off vultures at every turn trying to take what remains of the Medarda fortune, it's easy to imagine her falling into bad habbits.
And wouldn't that just be the most tragic ending for a character like her, who spent so much of her life trying to undo her mother's work, only to end up traumatizing her own daughter and sternly telling her "excellence is measured in sacrifice".
Hey does anyone remember how Rell was forced by her mother to kill her friends one by one in order to make her stronger? How about that scene in season one where Ambessa kills the Ionian princess Mel had made friends with?
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hunters-vigil · 2 days ago
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The Archon's Baby - Chapter 6 - Sisters
Previous Chapter
request from ao3: Make one where they have a child but the female character doesn't tell Mavuika that she is expecting a child and distances herself from Mavuika please 🙏🙏
Fic under the cut, don't repost my stuff on other platforms, i have ao3. Reader is not the traveller. Reader's adoptive sisters are Chasca and Chuychu.
warnings: warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, empty threats about castration, implied trans!Mavuika, arguments, a lot of crying.
Chasca raised an eyebrow, while Chuychu passed you the vitamins you needed to take, reminding you very much of the good sister bad sister routine your sisters would use when you were all younger.
"The mother of my child." You stated, folding your arms as your sisters moved to stand up, "She's long gone, so you can't try cutting any balls off, Chasca."
"You heard me when I said that?" Chasca's face fell at the defensive look on yours, "you know I wouldn't. I was angry about your... condition and upset that you didn't trust me or Chuychu enough to tell us you were in a relationship."
"It wasn't about trust. I trust you both with my life, you're my sisters and I love you. But my relationship... it's complicated. We kept it from everyone until I was ready, and she was okay with that, because the moment people find out, everything changes..." you trailed off, fighting the urge to run your hand over your belly. Lucky for you, you were not showing yet.
"Why would everything change? Only the elders might be bothered that you two aren't married-" Chasca frowned but Chuychu kicked her in the shin to quieten her, watching you carefully as you took your vitamins.
"Chasca... think about it. A pyro user, and everything would change the moment people found out she was courting one of her people, let alone impregnated her."
"Chuychu, did you have to word it like that?" your face burned with enough heat that you could have had a pyro vision.
"Wait, what are you saying- oh, archons..." Chasca paused, looking between Chuychu, then you, as her eyes widened in realisation. "You're with our archon."
"Shush! Please! Please..." you begged, your voice cracking as your sisters figured out everything.
"I need to prepare for the Pilgrimage." Chasca stood up to leave, not looking back as she held back her emotions.
"Chasca!" you held back your sobs, remembering momentarily that you three were in public, but your hormones and emotions threw that out the window, "Chuychu?"
"She just needs to blow off steam. I'm going to check on her so she doesn't take it out on some innocent civillian, or you. You don't need that stress, okay?" Chuychu moved to stand up, leaning in to kiss your forehead, "I'm not mad at you, I can see why you hid this, and I will admit that it hurts but, I love you, little one. I'll come find you once I know our older sister has calmed down, and not tried to castrate the archon..."
Chuychu said the last bit more to herself than to you, following in Chasca's footsteps as you sat at the table with your head in your hands.
"I don't think I've seen you three have a fight like that in years." The sound of heels on the floor approached you, but you couldn't remove your hands from your face, trying to hide your tears but clearly failing.
Xilonen let out a soft sigh, her hand gently rubbing your trembling back, "whatever you three fought over... you'll resolve it between yourselves, you know that, right sweetheart?"
A wet laugh made the ancient name forger's ears twitch, "I doubt it. They're really mad... Chasca's supposed to be a peacekeeper but when it comes to family... our parents are going to be mad too when they find out everything."
"It's that bad that talking to them won't work?" Xilonen frowned, thinking to herself for a moment, "how about I get us some xocoatl and you can gather your thoughts? Or maybe some tatacos?"
"Ugh, archons no, just thinking of shrimp makes me want to vomit!" you held back a gag, much to Xilonen's confusion.
"I thought you loved tatacos, your sisters used to bribe you with them as a kid?"
"Um, it's complicated," feeling your face burn and eyes water at having to try explain, "but I can't eat fish or shrimp anyway now so... just xocoatl please. I can give you some mora-"
"I've got it sweetheart, don't worry about it." Xilonen dismissed you, not seeing how your nose crinkled up at the pet name, reminding you of your parents, who you had yet to tell about Mavuika or your pregnancy. Although, they may have suspected something, with how that family dinner went the day that you found out your results...
Your hands trembled as you cradled the mug of xocoatl between them, avoiding Xilonen's gaze but the woman didn't seem to be so bothered by your lack of talking. In fact, she looked like all she wanted was a nap, especially the level of alertness in her eyes or lack thereof suggesting it.
"Are... you okay?" you whispered, bringing the mug up to your lips to sip on.
"I probably should be asking you that," the smith passed you a serviette for a tissue, "but that would probably make you cry again, so I'd rather not. Me though? I'm alright, just wondering about the potted plant on my porch. It died again, I was watering it every day but, I guess that was too much?"
"Probably. Plants can be temperamental, too much water, too little water, too much sunlight, too little sunlight." You shrugged, not admitting that a saurian that Chasca had been fostering at Ifa's had eaten your plants so you gave up growing any a while back. Instead, your focus was on the life growing inside of you.
"Ugh, I guess gardening requires quite a bit of luck." Xilonen grumbled, folding her arms, leaning back in her chair in thought.
"Be right back..." you mumbled, hurrying off to go to the bathroom, much to Xilonen's momentary confusion.
"Sorry, sorry... I'm back!" you chewed your lip as you returned to your seat, hoping that you wouldn't need to pee again during your conversation, "um, so the Pilgrimage is this week, are you looking forward to it?"
Xilonen let out a yawn, "I can't wait for it to be over and people stop trying to ask me for last minute commissions." The smith's ears perked up as she looked at you properly, "speaking of comissions. How was that weapon I made for you?"
Your eyes widened at the unexpected question, stumbling over your thoughts as you tried to come up with an answer. How could you tell her that your sisters had confiscated it not long after finding out you were pregnant? Chasca had been helping you train with it, and Mavuika had tried, being somewhat successful, but the two of you often ended up too distracted by each other...
"Okay, what happened to it?"
"My sisters took it. They stopped my training sessions after finding out about... my condition." You hesitated before finally telling the ancient name bearer the truth, or well, a vague version of it. Chuychu still wasn't back yet, was she still trying to calm Chasca down?
"Your condition? Right?" Xilonen hummed, not entirely sure what you were taking about, "is it serious? Do you need anything from me?"
"It's too early to commission you to help with a nurs-anything, help with anything, so just, thank you for the offer!" you caught your slip up, but Xilonen did too as her ears twitched, taking a moment to realise.
"Oh, uh, well, you know where to find me when you do, okay, sweetheart? I should get going, I have a meeting with the archon, it's probably about her needing another set of sunglasses forging... again!" Xilonen gently petted your head as she hurried away, leaving you to frown slightly.
"Why does everyone keep petting my head?"
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hey-august · 23 hours ago
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Saw the cuteness aggression post you reblogged and would feel blessed if you ever wrote whump fic with Buggy because I would ALSO love to try and comfort a man who just staggered into the room bloody, beaten and bruised, clearly just thumbling over the threshold of “show no weakness” to “in so much pain he doesn’t even care anymore that he’s hiccuping and sobbing like a child while clinging to you” hurt comfort with heavy emphasis on the hurt? Yes pls
Anon, I'm so so sorry for how long it took me to get to this. I love me some angst and whump, and while I had ideas, the motivation to write was not working with me.
I don't want to keep holding onto this and leave you hanging for even longer, so I wrote out my idea in bullet point format.
I hope this still hits the spot!
WC: ~550 Warnings: buggy x gn!reader, mentions of blood and burn wounds
You and Buggy have an unspoken thing. A mutual pining. There's respect and some affection. A closeness, but still distance and a barrier that neither of you acknowledge.
You're the ship's doctor and the crew was in a rough fight. Lots of injuries, ranging from minor scuffs, to teeth knocked out, stitches, broken noses and broken bones, blood and tears - it's a lot in a short period of time.
You're doing what you can, and those who are less injured are helping where they can.
Once you get through those involved, the captain is the last one left needing your attention.
Maybe he's been sitting nearby the whole time, waving away anyone coming to triage or check on him, snapping that he's fine. Get the hell away from him.
But when the room empties, Buggy crumbles. It starts small, bit by bit as you assess him.
His busted lip is split and bleeding, the color mixing with his smeared lipstick. His right eye is swelling. His beautiful hair is singed. The affected tips are stuck in terrified curls from trying to run from the heat. The smell is clinging everywhere.
But the worst are the burns. You're not sure what happened - some of the other crewmembers had burns and scorch marks, but not like this.
Your captain has some rough wounds on his arms and torso, where the heat ate away at the fabric before feeding on his skin and flesh.
He's wet and sticky. Swaths of skin are weeping. Buggy's feeling exposed, tender, and hurt. Pain is radiating out while regret and fear are falling inwards.
All it takes is one soft comment from you. "You must be in so much pain." You were talking to yourself, but it's the acknowledgement that Buggy must have needed.
The eyes that had been avoiding yours, stopped holding back tears. His clenched jaw and tight lips quiver. He nods.
You can't fathom how much it hurts to move, but Buggy has his arms wrapped tightly around your midsection. His hands are clutching your clothes, pulling them taut. It's like he's a cracked vessel, losing liquid and life, but maybe you can keep him together. Maybe you could fix him. And if not, he wouldn't be alone as he breaks.
Hurting more is often part of getting better. You know this, and you let it happen.
You let Buggy cry against you. You let his tears, snot, spittle, and worries seep into your clothes. You hold the back of his head and put a hand on his back, and rub. You let your own stinging tears fall.
Noises get caught in his throat and Buggy fixes his hold, as if he's trying to wrap himself around you even more. As if he's trying to squeeze every drop of comfort and care from you.
His hands are detached, fingers stretched and probably barely connected, all so he can hold more of you. Even his feet are shuffling, seeking contact against yours. His knees knocking against your legs.
Buggy continues until he's hiccupping and coughing. Until he has a headache and his eyes are bleary.
You should have stopped him sooner. Some of the oozing wounds started to crust and are clinging to the fabric of your clothes.
Buggy whines and grunts as he literally peels himself away.
You still need to clean and dress the wounds, so another round of pain. One could argue that you should have gone ahead and done that right away, but no.
Despite the visible injuries, there's invisible damage that needed to be soothed.
You can almost see Buggy picking up his broken pieces and putting them back together. Recreating a wall, a mask, a barrier.
You know what's on the other side, though. And you will be there whenever he needs you.
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the-kr8tor · 11 hours ago
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Loki Variant! R just spinning around in circles in my head rn😔
The first time Hobie had seen you in your ice giant form, it had been on accident. And, it wasn't an entirely pleasant discovery.
He was humming as he roamed through the many halls of your palace, searching for you since it was about time that your meeting with your council should have ended. The orphans running throughout the halls made him smile, and he had to duck before a ball hit him in the face. As he was nearing your meeting room, he could hear something faint just outside the door. Was someone... crying?
Frowning, Hobie opens the door before freezing up at your shout of alarm.
"What are you doing? Leave!" You yell harshly as you point a shaky (blue?) hand towards the opened door, body turned away from whoever had come in. Now concerned, Hobie softly closes the door behind him and approaches you with all the quietness of a mouse. Just when he reaches out a hand to touch you, to take your hand in his, you flinch alway. Like you could feel him behind you, like his very touch would sear you.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong...? Look at me..." He mumbles softly as he tries to get you to face him, his head following yours every time you turn your face away. Your voice is shaky as you speak, as if you're terrified.
"No... You can't see me like this." See you like what? What could be so horrible that you wouldn't allow him to look at you? Clicking his tongue, he moves too fast for you to react, side stepping his way to finally face you properly. Hobie's eyes widen slightly in surprise at the dark blue of your skin and the piercing crimson hue of your eyes. However, he's more concerned about the tears dripping down your face and the unmistakable shame gleaming in your eyes. When he reaches out to touch you again, you back away, shaking your head and letting out an unamused laugh.
"You can't touch me. Not when I'm like this... I could hurt you."
"How could you hurt me?" You scoff at his question and scrub the tears off your face, shame and hatred seeping into your every word. You tell him of your true heritage, a frost giant who was left to die as a baby when Odin killed everyone on Jotunheim. Told any who questioned his taking of you that he was "saving" you from a "dangerous" realm of war. Odin only really took you in as a trophy, what you had learned from the man when you finally dethroned him. If anyone were to touch your skin when in your ice giant form, they could freeze to death. That this form only takes over every once in a while when the stress is truly too much for you.
"I'm hideous..." You say with a choked sob, clenching your eyes shut. Hobie's heart just about breaks at the sight. Because, how on earth could you see yourself as anything but breathtaking? You were gorgeous, exquisite. Even now, in this beautiful form you seem to hate so much.
"Come now, love. You're beautiful-"
"Beautiful...? I'm a monster, Hobie!" You snap with gritted teeth and red eyes flaring. There's a chill in the air as your voice grows louder and louder, and Hobie can't stand it. He wants to hold you close and never let you go as the words keep pouring from your lips. But each time he inches closer to you, you step further back. The air grows colder, and he can start to see his breath crystallize in the air.
"I'm the monster that parents tell their children at night, the demon that haunts every Asgardian's nightmares! I was never supposed to sit on that throne! I-I shouldn't even be here... Thor should be here. He was the one who everyone looked up to! He was supposed to be the savior! He was supposed to live! He should've lived, not me-"
Hobie had heard enough, grabbing your cloak from off of the nearby chair and wrapping it around your body before pulling you into his embrace. You were shivering and trying hard to step back, away from his arms. But it was okay. You weren't hurting him. You could never hurt him
"No more", Hobie mumbles as he pulls you both down to the ground with you sitting in his lap, your head wrapped in the cloak and laying on his shoulder. He could feel your tears soak through the cloak and his shirt. Or, perhaps they were his.
"No more of that. Everythin' that asshole ever said 'bout you, 'bout where you came from... It's all bullcrap. Your brother loved you, knew you'd take good care of everyone, yeah? Would he really entrust everythin' you both love to someone he thought was a monster? You're not a demon, lovie. You're a freakin' Rockstar with a heart so damn big and full of love for everythin'."
He grips you tighter, rubs your arms and back through the layer of clothing between you two. Your heart aches at his words, at the sincerity behind them. The chill in the room slowly subsides, and the blue of your skin slowly fades back to your normal skintone. Your thundering heartbeat slows in your ears and the tears soon cease.
"You fought too damn hard to free your people. You deserve to sit on that throne, and you deserve to live. And anyone who thinks otherwise can fuck right off. I'll bash their heads in..."
The last few words spoken make you chuckle, your hands moving to pull down the cloak from over your head as you look up to peer at him. There are dried tear streaks on his face as he looks down at you, chocolate brown eyes warm and glittering with such soft care just for you. Hobie lifts a hand to gently brush away the lingering tears in the corner of your eye with a gentle finger, touch as soft as silk. Then he leans down to press a tender kiss to your forehead. Then to your nose. Then another on your cheek. Hobie rains little kisses all over your face, adorning you with his love and affection. He doesn't stop until you giggle and try to wriggle from his grasp, until he thoroughly makes those bad thoughts flit from your mind. And, although he knows he can't make those thoughts of guilt and unworthiness leave you completely, he'll do his damn hardest to make sure it takes a long while for you to feel this low about yourself ever again.
YESSSS MORE LOKI VARIANT! R
Bestie you're feeding all of us with all these marvel aus 🤭
Omg i was wondering when r would turn into their frost giant form! This did not disappoint 😭😭😭 the hurt/comfort is hurt comforting me 😭
I love the fact that Hobie is practically living in asgard!
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mentallhealthmatters · 2 days ago
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Probably late but... (Long rant ahead)
https://www.tumblr.com/mentallhealthmatters/766237584051552256/like-fuck-you-shelby-this-guy-had-a-buuunch-of
“This is a 'I don't trust you guys, you weren't my friends,' move. This is 'you guys supported her, even quietly,' this is 'yeah no one fucking talked to him to hear his side of the story' move.”
Oh I have my thoughts and opinions on this and of people wishing or hoping that Wilbur still has friends or is still friends with those that used to be on that friend list. (the MCYT/Streamer Sphere) They are just setting themselves up for nothing but disappointment.
It wouldn't surprise me if everyone from the MC community - even those closest to him - abandoned him, in fact, I'm expecting it. Tommy private/unlisted his Wilbur Return “If I annoy Wil” VOD and even one or more of his YouTube videos that featured Wilbur (Like the Sims one). Philza unfollowed him everywhere, removed everything from his Twitch that even hinted at Wilbur, and he might be modding for Shelby (not 100% sure about that). Hell, he also probably got rid of some videos on his YouTube channel. Molly (Tommy's girlfriend) streamed with Lexie. (I think this was after the allegations) And isn't Lexie an ableist, claiming to be a victim of narcissistic abuse, which I hope she is able to heal but claiming all those with NPD are inherently corrupt or abusers because of a disorder they didn't ask for is just wrong. 
Sidenote/Mini-Rant: Saying "People with NPD will never get better because they lie to their therapists.” Is just so toxic and ableist in my opinion. 1) While NPD can’t be cured, it can be treated, and saying those with NPD will never get better discourages them from seeking those treatments. 2) Only a medical professional, psychiatrist, psychologist, or an expert on NPD can make a diagnosis, not Twitch streamers. 3) NPD and other similar disorders are extremely stigmatized and doing this is just going to make it harder for people with those disorders.
Not to mention all the ones who jumped on the hate bandwagon to throw in their two cents or those who just bashed him, Minx and Billzo for example jumping on the bandwagon: Minx was at a party at his house, saw him and Shelby(?) arguing, tried to insert herself - got denied - then later when Wilbur was heading to the bathroom because he drank too much. She followed him into the bathroom to hold his hair back (never mind that his hair is too short to be held back) Wilbur being drunk, assumed she was trying to harm him, got angry at her, and told her to leave, calmed down, and apologize and said she didn't have to leave, yet she chose to leave anyway. But according to Minx, he’s still somehow the bad guy because he got angry thinking she was trying to hurt him while drunk, she isn't a victim of anything. Billzo handcuffed Wilbur without his consent or permission to a railing(?) as a joke and threw the keys away. Then Wilbur tells or asks him to let him go making it very clear that he didn’t want this nor find the "joke" funny, only for Billzo to inform him that they don’t have the keys and set the cuffs to the tightest setting while Wil’s panicking. So of course this makes Wil panic more til he yells at Bill to find the keys. And somehow people are making Wilbur the bad guy because he yelled, while Bill was the one who restrained him, put the cuffs as tightly as possible, and laughed at him. Wilbur had every right to yell at him! (I would have) And Wilbur apologized to Bill for yelling at him!
And the others, many of whom admitted themselves that they weren't close to or knew Wilbur all that well like Aimsey, Tubbo, Harry, and Max (Didn’t Will need to be reminded by Tommy who Max was at one point?) all of which were very fast to condemn and attack Wilbur but when Beau came out about her story about being kissed without consent (might be more to that) by Snikrep, someone a majority of them hang out with, suddenly they're distancing and excusing themselves. Didn’t Aimsey make a statement on Twt saying she didn’t associate with the guy, only for a recent photo to drop that had both of them hanging out together in it, and then she deleted her statement on Twitter? Weren't Harry or Max (or both) caught on a previous stream where they were making fun/jokes about Beau and her story/situation? Isn't Harry friends with KitWisp and Snikrep who have also been accused of domestic abuse and sexual assault? I’m unaware if anything happened to them. (I think Snikrep is still editing for Tommy) It shows how performative and self-centered their activism and support for victims is. (Correct me if any of the above info is wrong or if you have more to add. I'm recalling all this from memory.)
Hypocrites, they’re hypocrites. “With friends like these, who need enemies" is a saying for a reason. 
I highly doubt he will even glance in Minecraft’s direction or touch it with a 50-foot pole because of all those people previously mentioned, even if he still likes the game itself. 
Wilbur deserves better. Better friends and better people to spend his time with. He needs people who will help him improve, not drop him as soon as the public deems it or when it's not profitable. I believe that it’s best he's gotten rid of all his MCYT "friends" as well. If all of them were willing to use his downfall to boost their reputations and careers, then he's so much better without them. He has worth outside of them and deserves more than them as much as I miss his friendship and dynamic with them. (SBI my beloved)
Besides, Wilbur being in a niche-y band with a small music channel on the side suits him more than being a Minecraft content creator. I say this as someone who found him via his Minecraft content and enjoyed it more than his band. (I like his band/songs, I just enjoyed his content more)
Plus Wilbur's biting habit is fixable, it can be helped. It's not something he kept secret, everyone knew about his biting habit and knew it was something he had done for years. I know change can be challenging, and be a long, slow, and difficult process. But what matters is that he keeps trying! That looks to be what he’s trying to do, with his last post on Twt, with him going to therapy and changing his lifestyle a bit. It's hard to stop a long-term issue or habit that started in childhood, like his biting habit (Old habits die hard) but none of them seem willing to try and help him change or improve himself. You should at least try, you'll probably get kicked and scratched in the process but that's what friends do: try to help each other. (Keyword: TRY. Don't keep burning yourself at both ends of the candle for someone who is unwilling to change. But Wilbur seems to be trying/willing.)
Even if Wilbur and some of his old friends somehow reunite or reconnect sometime down the line, if they can make amends, and rebuild the bridges burnt, those bridges aren't going to be what they were previously. They could only - at most - look similar but never be the same.
Only bridge id encourage being rebuilt is Quackity. *fuck* everyone else. But thats less i care about wilbur and have deemed Quackity to be the only one worth redeeming, but Wilbur is a crucial key to things id like to see from Quackity in upcoming plots and plans, and shelby burned that bridge. The story can still be told, but a name would have been omitted and i rather it not be.
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letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 1 year ago
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Having now watched Bridgerton after resisting for years, all I can say is, if Anthony was my sibling and pulled that season two mess after all the trouble he caused me in my love life in season one...
*hands Daphne a knife and gets the hell out of her way*
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falinscloaca · 9 months ago
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rewatched paranoia agent by proxy (reaction youtube), feeling emotionally akin to warm yet raw eggs again. great.
#i hate that i unlock my enlightened discourse centrist powers when this happens#like. that 'voting for biden as a practical decision because the repub candidates would all be worse on the issues he's fucking bad on alre#already' and 'jesus fucking christ this isn't democracy so why shouldn't the american minority demographics hold themselves hostage for som#NUDGING of the democratic political platform' (....the democrats will let us die though. like they won't budge. some will make concessions#but not many and not the ones with the ability to change didly dick) are both technically 'correct' viewpoints to have#and no i don't think things will get anywhere better for minorities in the united states where its headed even with a dem in the white hous#well at least BECAUSE of that. the republican followup to the last two we've had will still kill more. it'd still be GOOD to avoid that.#g-d the Dem party will let themselves die before they move meaningfully left though.#on one hand we have a rock gently sliding to crush us and on the other hand we have another rock moving much faster to do the same#and of course going out of their way to kill human beings en masse abroad#like if the democrat's pet minorities can't meaningfully withhold the vote then what the fuck is the point??? and we CAN'T.#not for president!!!!#(still get fucking involved with elections besides Presidential#pickings will still be slim in terms of 'good' but its not a fucking sham)#just. fucking. mutual aid and direct in-person organization.#join a fuckin org try reading some shit about sociology and political activism advocate for tenants rights and voting rights for criminals#& voting access for all#(those last two things wouldn't fix a presidential election but working to better democratize the rest of the system could give fucking spa#in years where there actually IS a primary maybe shit will be slightly less greusome. though i'll be fuckin rich if any presidential candid#candidate manages to stay true to their fig leaves to the progressives come inauguration#ALSO FORM A FUKIN UNION#MAKE ART!!!!#NOT JUST POLITICAL ART!!! MAKE ART IN GENERAL!!!!! APPRECIATE EACH OTHERS ART!!!!!! CONSUME LESS CORPO SLOP!!!!!!!!! LOVE EACH OTHER AND#OURSELVES!!!!!#to clarify by 'we cant meaningfully withhold our vote' that doesn't mean we have an imperative not to. i mean that if we withhold it#nothing will change about the democrats besides them getting pissy and at bwoerst they lose the election to the kill everyone now party#it WOULD continue to good!radicalize the american voterbase though possibly but that could also happen if we all voted for biden again and#he kept doing not enough (good stuff#he can do bad quite clearly)
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cluescorner · 6 months ago
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There's no feeling stranger than knowing that something is bad but liking it anyways. Not in a 'it's so bad it's good' way. Because that implies that it has become good. I'm talking like this thing is just kinda bad in the normal ways things are bad, but i like it anyways.
#honestly I'm talking about Batgirls rn#because like...it has its moments but I wouldn't call it good. it even has some of my own personal pet peeves#specifically the overabundance of narration boxes that aren't from a character and rather the author is speaking to us.#if I wanted an overabundance Authors Notes I would read fucking early 2000s fanfics#and Babsgirl existing but I've made peace with the fact that we'll only get an Oracle story in a Black Label or similar thing at this point#I love the art and it has among my favorite designs for both Spoiler and Black Bat#don't get me STARTED on the covers holy fuck. the 90s rewind in particular lives in my head rent free because ajlkdfjdsalk;fjdlsa;kf#it also has both moments of REALLY FUCKING BAD characterization and REALLY FUCKING GOOD characterization#Cass being like 'ok but do we HAVE to save Seer?' horrible! demonstrates an egregious misunderstanding of her. what the hell?#Steph being abnormally good at solving the Riddler's puzzles and knowing basically every cipher because of Arthur? then getting incredibly#upset at even the MENTION of him to the point that she gets fucking stabbed by the RIDDLER of all people?#wow thanks for actually addressing a very interesting part of Steph's character that is often left by the wayside. good job.#issue 14 is amazing and it makes me want to implode every time I read it. like I actually recommend it without any caveats attached#it is straight up good. it's the high-point of Batgirls and it's not even close imo.#and wow! there is almost no dialogue and NO NARRATION BOXES??#it's almost like the whole appeal of comics is telling incredible stories through art or something. and that when you have good art#and good art direction you should just fucking let it speak for itself or something#and that maybe using what words you DO have to let your CHARACTERS speak in a way they normally wouldn't is a good idea#even if the in universe reason is that Steph is basically leaving this note as a 'I am either dead or close to it' type of thing#like holy fuck how did they do that?? AND SO LATE IN THE GAME THAT NOBODY FUCKING TALKS ABOUT IT??#and obviously there is a conversation to be had about 'was Batgirls queerbaiting' but honestly since it was cancelled IDK#I could see a universe where given time it could have made a natural shift to a love story between Steph and Cass#I'm not upset about it but I get why other people might be. there are some panels that like...come on.#and as always I am most fascinated by missed potential. because Batgirls showed that it COULD be good with Issue 14#and arguably other of the better issues. the art was incredible and as the issues went on it felt like the kinks were getting ironed out#plus getting a series focused on 3 of my favorite characters was a dream come true for me. ESPECIALLY because we rarely get good#stuff for Cass and Steph.
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