#LA stick and poke

[michellenero]

FREE MY MANS RISOTTO HE DOES NOT DESERVE THE GLUE TRAP ‼️‼️‼️‼️

MUHAHAHAHHAAAAA 👹👹

[moonchild9350]

Drive

Summary: you've been pining after your chauffeur Hyunjin for years. one night, you decide to take things into your own hands, deciding the only opportunity you need is to take a little drive.

Pairing: chauffeur!Hyunjin x wealthy fab!reader

Genre: stranger to lover au, fluff, smut-18+MDNI

Word count:3.6k

Warnings: car sex, teasing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), finger sucking, masturbation, exhibitionism, cum tasting, p in v penetration, creampie (don't), alcohol usage, breeding kink, use of term miss (but not in a sexual way)

Notes: the whole time i wrote this, i was thinking of the song Drive which we all know is about driving only yep lol. I hope you enjoy!

If you liked, please consider a like, reblog, or comment as it keeps me motivated ♡

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

The buildings pass by, disguised as large, blurry objects that are difficult to make out, each one blending in with the next. The other cars seem to be racing with yours, as they speed away to their destination.

You sit in the backseat, your phone in one hand as you respond to messages, your tongue poking out from the corner of your lips in concentration. As you pressed send on the last message, you tossed your head back with a sigh, throwing your phone down on the leather seat.

Closing your eyes, you let the air conditioner that is blowing gently from the vents above your head cool you down, as it was another insufferable, hot day. Your top was starting to stick to your skin, as you perspired. Damn you couldn't wait to get home and shower.

"Everything alright miss?"

You startle slightly at the husky voice, your eyes snapping open as you looked at the rearview mirror, where a pair of brown eyes were peering at you in concern.

"Yes, Hyunjin, I'm fine," you responded while tossing your hair back, giving him a good view of your chest where your cleavage was visible.

Hyunjin nodded, satisfied at your answer, his focus shifting back to the road.

You smirked, feeling a little more energized after the interaction. Hyunjin was your personal driver, appointed to you by your family. Each member had their own, as your family was wealthy and part of the elite of the city.

He was respectable and did his job well, taking you anywhere you needed to go. He was also good on the eyes. You loved sneaking a peek at his gorgeous, long brown hair, his beautiful brown eyes, and not to mention his luscious lips.

You decided to spice things up, as you were bored, but also slightly horny sitting within the proximity of a god himself.

You sat as seductively as you could and sighed again, Hyunjin taking the bait and looking up and into the mirror again to check on you. You kept eye contact, batting your eyelashes as you smirked at the man.

Hyunjin shifted slightly in his seat, his eyes darting to the road in front of him and back to the mirror to look at you.

Bringing your fingers to your lips, you slowly pushed the digits in, swirling your tongue around them, getting them nice and wet. You gently sucked on them, holding eye contact with Hyunjin the whole time.

You felt a jolt run through your body, settling in your core, causing your clit go throb. The thought of Hyunjin getting hot and bothered just because you were sucking your fingers, caused your pussy to clench as your slick seeped out into your panties.

You giggled as he shifted in his seat, as he let out a soft grunt. You knew he was clenching his hands on the steering wheel as you heard the sound of the leather crunch as he moved.

You continued to tease him, licking and sucking your fingers until the car pulled up to your drive way, the vehicle safely coming to a stop.

You withdrew your fingers with a pop, and wiped them on your shirt before grabbing your bag that was next to you. Before opening your door, you leaned closer to Hyunjin, placing your hand on the shoulder of his nice, crisp white shirt.

“See you later Hyunjin,” you purred, squeezing his arm before leaning back and opening the door.

“Bye miss,” Hyunjin said in a deep voice, watching as you slipped out the back seat, slammed the door, and walked away.

He sat there for a moment more, his cock twitching within your pants as he watched how your ass swayed with each step. He’s not sure what just happened, but chose to ignore it as he started the car again to park it in the garage.

You were happy with today’s event, happy that he fell for your charm. You knew the effect you had on Hyunjin, have known it for years.

You know he watches you from time to time in the car, as you walk away, his eyes glued to your ass. You’ve seen the way he eyes your cleavage when you lean a little too close when talking with him.

It will be easy to entice him, to ensnare him within your clutches using your charms.

It was laughable really, after all he’s just a man.

— —

The next day, you needed to have Hyunjin drive you to a small gathering, a celebration for the success of your new business.

You picked out your best lingerie set, smiling as you delicately pulled the black lace over your legs, snapped the lace bra over your breasts.

Picking up your red dress, you slipped it on, the material hugging your curves perfectly, showing off your shape. You topped it off with a diamond necklace and diamond studs, the light reflecting off the jewels and scattering throughout the room in the afternoon sunlight.

You slipped your heels on, fastening the buckles against your ankles. You felt satisfied as you took one last look in the mirror. Grabbing your clutch, you made your way out of your room, your heels echoing off the tile as you walked down the hall, the grand staircase, and finally out of the door.

Hyunjin was waiting for you, standing by the door of the car. You smirked as he eyed your body, his eyes widening as they traveled from your face to your tits. He lingered there before eyeing your curves and your legs before looking back up to your face.

“How are you miss?” Hyunjin asked, trying to cover up the lust in his voice.

“Very well, thank you,” you purred, sitting down on the seat as Hyunjin had already opened the door for you.

You slowly pulled your legs into the car, Hyunjin’s eyes traveling along the flesh. Once seated, you signaled to him that you were good, watching as he carefully closed the door. He got into the drivers seat and pulled away from your home.

You both sat in silence for the ride. You looked out the window, your mind on the man in front of you. You couldn’t help but wonder how his lips would feel on yours, how his hands would glide across your body as he takes you over and over.

You felt an ache form within your core, your arousal slowly seeping into your panties. You clenched your thighs together seeking friction as you imagined how big his cock is, and how he would look as he came, giving you loads of his cum.

You were so lost in thought, you didn’t hear Hyunjin announce that you were at your destination. You snapped out of your reverie and noticed how he had turned around in his seat, his eyes searching yours in concern, but mixed with something more. It was as if he knew what you were day dreaming about.

You cleared your throat and straightened up and opened your door. As you stepped out of the car, you took a breath of fresh air, your mind clearing from whatever that was swirling around in your brain.

“Thank you Hyunjin, I’ll see you later tonight.”

You didn’t hear his response as you had already slammed the door shut. You walked away from Hyunjin and towards the party, putting a smile on your face.

— —

The night passed, the drinks flowed. You danced the night away, as the alcohol coursed through you, causing that warmth you craved.

You were also warm elsewhere, your core throbbing, aching, needing to be touched, filled until you were satisfied. Your panties were soaked as you danced to the beat, the seductive song blaring on the speakers.

Your mind wandered as you moved, wishing Hyunjin was there, his arms on your waist as he held you from behind. You smiled at the thought of how you’d both get lost in each other, letting the music carry you to paradise.

However, as the song changed to something more upbeat, you watched as the picture materialized in front of you, disappearing from your mind. You needed Hyunjin and tonight you would have him.

— —

You sat outside on the step, breathing in the fresh air as the wind tickled your sweat coated skin. You were sipping a glass of water, eyes gazing in the distance as you waited for hyunjin. It was late and you were tired, but you still had that ache and that need for your chauffeur.

As you watched a black car pull up, you smiled, slowly getting to your feet. Hyunjin hurriedly got out of the car and rushed to your side.

“Miss…are you alright?” He inquired, his arms out, ready to stabilize you if needed.

“I’m fine Hyunjin,” you chuckled, gently pushing his arms away.

You walked next to him, his long legs matching your pace. You patiently waited as he opened the door, and slid in, your back relaxing against the plush leather seats.

It didn’t take long for hyunjin to get in and start the car, the house slowly fading away in the distance. You relaxed further in your seat, your eyes drifting up to where Hyunjin was sitting.

You watched as he gripped the steering wheel, the veins becoming more prominent with the motion. You sighed as you imagined those hands elsewhere, a shiver running down your spine and causing your pussy to flutter.

You leaned back as you began to run your hand over you body, eyes closing as your fingers brushed against your collarbone, inching lower until they reached your thighs.

Opening your eyes, you looked at the man in front of you, a soft smiling reaching your lips as your fingers inched higher, the digits playing with the hem of your dress.

You felt like you were floating, not quite drunk but enough to where you felt uninhibited. Every touch was heightened causing little ripples in your belly, your core aching and dripping.

Hyunjin was still watching you, his eyes darting to the road and back to yours. You kept eye contact with him through the mirror, as you spread your legs wider for easier access.

You touched the pads of your fingers to your soaked panties, apply slight pressure on the material right over your clit. You gasped out as you circled the nub through the cloth, waves of pleasure spreading with each twist of your wrist.

Biting your lip, you reached down to remove the offending clothing, dragging your sticky, wet panties down your legs. You tossed them on the floor, and ground your thighs together, your slick steadily dripping from your pussy and onto the leather seats below.

Hyunjin held his breath as he watched you dip your fingers into your sopping hole, deeper and deeper until you squealed, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet car.

He gripped the steering wheel harder, his knuckles turning white as he felt his cock fill out within the confines of his pants. You were a tease, and it was driving him insane.

You knew you had him, smiling as he stopped at a red light, his attention now solely on you. You fingered your self harder, faster, the wet sounds filling the car causing you to groan and Hyunjin to whine.

You chuckled as he shifted in his seat, his eyes on your pussy. With each thrust of your fingers, your palm caught your clit just right, your high approaching fast.

Your moans filled the car as you stroked your sweet spot, the warm feeling in your belly building until it snapped, pleasure spreading the your body as your walls spasmed around your fingers. You thrashed around as you rode out your high, your arousal drenching the seats below. Once you came down, you withdrew your fingers and smiled.

“Enjoyed the view Hyunjin?” You cooed, watching as he blushed and cleared his throat, his gaze turning back to the road, as the light had since turned green.

You relaxed on the seat spent, satisfied at easing the ache within your core. It didn’t take long however, until you felt the throbbing within your core wanting to be filled again.

Hyunjin suddenly stopped the car and got out, causing you to sit up in your seat, shocked that you were already home. However when you looked out the window, you noticed you were not home but in an abandoned parking lot.

Confused, you cocked your head, wondering what hyunjin was doing. Before you could react, hyunjin opened the door and got into the back seat with you, leaving the door wide open for anyone to see.

“Please, please, need you miss!”

You stared at the man in front of you, shock in your eyes. That shock soon turned to a smirk as you brushed your hand through his hair as he whimpered.

“You can have me baby,” you purred as you slightly yanked on the strands of his hair. “You can start by cleaning up this mess.”

Hyunjin looked at you before looking at the seat, the leather slick with your arousal. He licked his lips and whined before lowering his head and touching his tongue to the pool of liquid.

He groaned at the taste before he fervently started to lick up your slick. You ran your fingers through his hair as he cleaned up the seat, your pussy clenching at the sight.

“Nasty baby aren’t you, licking up my cum from the seat. It’s ok, I have more for you,” you said lifting his head up from the seat.

His tongue was still out, his eyes hooded as you brought his face closer to your pussy. You moaned as he attached his mouth to your clit, sucking the bud within his pillowly lips.

You gripped his hair harder, moving his head up and down, his tongue slack as you rode the muscle. You whined as Hyunjin pressed his face further against your folds and stuck his tongue within your entrance as deep as it could go.

Hyunjin fucked your little hole, catching every drop of your arousal on his tongue, making sure not to waste a drop. You felt pleasure trickle through your core each time his nose brushed against your clit, leaving you breathless each time.

You smiled down at the man below you, your heart beating erratically as he worshiped your pussy, eating you out like a man starved.

“Keep going baby, m’close,” you moaned rocking your hips against his face causing Hyunjin to groan, your pussy clenching at the vibrations.

Hyunjin lapped his way back up to your clit, suckling your bundle of nerves within his plush lips. He sucked hard and fast, his tongue darting out to flick the bud left and right.

You were close, that feeling of ecstasy within your reach. You pushed Hyunjin’s face further against you, smoothering him in your essence as the band within you snapped, your orgasm hitting you hard for the second time that night.

Your pussy contracted over nothing, your arousal seeping out with each spasm, coating Hyunjin’s lips and chin. Your fingers carded through Hyunjin’s hair as you rode out your high, little whimpers leaving your lips at the aftershocks.

It was becoming too much as he was still attached to your clit. You weakly pushed at his head, trying to get him to stop.

“S’too much Hyun,” you begged, watching as he leaned back to look at you, his face glistening with your arousal in the darkness of the car.

Overwhelmed with admiration for you, hyunjin leaned forward, pressing his lips to your in a passionate kiss. You groaned as you tasted yourself on him, your tongue darting out to lick along his lips.

Hyunjin shoved his tongue within your mouth, the muscle tangling with yours in a mess of teeth and spit. You reached down to touch his bulge, his cock hard within the confines of his pants. You palmed his erection, giving it a slight squeeze as he whimpered against your lips.

“Please miss, can I fuck you?” Hyunjin asked, his voice laced with desperation. “Need to feel you, please,” the last words fading out softly as he continued begging.

You wanted nothing more than to feel the man you’ve been pining over for what felt like ages. You lifted your dress up higher and maneuvered yourself to where you were on all fours.

Hyunjin quickly got up, unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants and boxers down, sighing as his cock sprang free. You looked back, your mouth watering at the appendage.

You knew he was a godsend but the sight of his cock made your pussy clench. You watched as he stroked his shaft, the sight of the pretty vein on the underside of his cock causing you to leak more slick. He wasn’t very long but girthy, complete with a mushroom tip that was red and leaking.

You arched your back further with a sigh as he brushed his cock through your folds, coating it with your slick. He teased you again and again, as he pushed the tip in just to withdraw it moments later.

You were frustrated and horny, needing to be filled with cock, and you needed it now.

“Fuck me Hyun, give me your cock baby,” you cooed.

Hyunjin grunted before pushing his length all the way in, stretching you out nicely, a mixture of pain and pleasure radiating through your core. It didn’t take you long to start moving your hips, as you met his thrusts, fucking yourself on his cock.

Your moans mixed with his, the only other sounds being the wet squelch of your pussy as he fucked you and the crickets surrounding the car in the night air.

You clenched around him, reveling in the feeling of his cock massaging your walls, hitting so deep you were seeing stars, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Hyunjin fucked you hard but slow, making sure you felt each stroke. He angled his hips so he could reach deeper, his cock rubbing against that sweet spot within.

He gripped your ass, massaging the flesh, his cock twitching at how your little hole sucked him in each time. He was close, and he wanted nothing more than to fill you to the brim with his cum, the thought of breeding you driving him insane.

What would your family think if he gave you his baby? Their beloved prestigious daughter swollen with the chauffeur’s child…his child.

His hips sped up at the prospect as he chased his high. He needed to cum but he wanted you to first. Reaching down and around you, he found your clit, rubbing tight circles around the bud.

You mewled out, being caged in by him as he fucked you, the feeling almost primal, like you both were nothing more than animals. His fingers on your clit sent shivers down your spine, the pressure building in your core, threatening to overflow.

“Gonna cum miss,” Hyunjin groaned, as he continued his assault on your body. “Can I fill you up? Lemme breed you, make you mine.”

Your pussy clenched at his words, the thought of you dripping with his cum turning you on.

“Yes, Hyun, fill me up, breed me.”

With a groan, hyunjin stilled his hips as spurts of cum flooded your walls. At the feel of him filling you up, you let go, your pussy spasming around his cock, aiding in milking him dry.

You were still caged in by Hyunjin’s body, his breath fanning across your shoulder as he came down from his high. He pressed gentle kisses down your spine, his fingers trailing down your skin before withdrawing his softened cock.

You whimpered as you felt his cum seep out of your pussy, the liquid dripping onto the leather seats, likely causing a stain after tonight’s activities.

“Wait here miss,” Hyunjin said softly.

In your periphery you saw him walk to the passenger door and open it up, his hands reaching into the glove box for some napkins. He came back around and began to clean you up before fixing your dress and helping you up.

Once done, he tossed the messy napkins away and cradled your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

You preened in the intimate moment, you eyes lost in his brown ones as you both stared at each other in silence. You heard the crickets chirp, the occasional hoot of an owl, and your own heart beating wildly within your chest.

“Miss….” Hyunjin began, but you cut him off, holding up a hand.

“Call me y/n,” you said, “of course only when we’re alone.”

Hyunjin nodded and visibly swallowed. “Y/n,” he said, trying out the name. He quite liked it and definitely could get used to it.

You thought he was going to continue, as he continued to stare at you, like he had something to say.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips barely opening at the statement.

Hyunjin leaned forward to press a kiss to your lips. It was unhurried, soft and gentle, nothing like the kiss of passion you shared earlier.

He pulled away first, his forehead resting against yours. Your mind was running a mile a minute, wondering what would happen now. You’ve always wanted him, but now that you do, would he want you?

Your thoughts were answered as he took your hands in his and said, “be mine y/n.”

You smiled as you let out a little chuckle. “Of course Hyun,” you said, more than happy to be his and only his.

Hyunjin smiled back, kissing the back of your hands.

“Guess we’re going to have to take more drives huh,” Hyunjin said, a little smirk on his face.

You most definitely would, that’s for sure.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght

[2hightocare]

We’re jk oc deprived 😭😭😭

Any new Drabble ?

noooo I can’t seem to finish any of my works for them, there’s only like prompts of barely 500 words here’s sum for you guys🥳🥳🥳🥳

1.

“Do you guys have triple extra-large condoms?”

“Your dick is not that big, oh please,” Yoongi bursts out laughing, throwing his head back and covering his face with his hands. You can’t help but snort softly as Lora tries to figure out how many inches triple extra-large would be using her hands.

“How is that possible..?” Jimin says, laying his head down on the hotel room bed beside Taehyung, who’s been snoring away since you all arrived.

“Just because you have a small dick doesn’t mean I do,” Jungkook retorts, crossing his arms and leaning against the colorful wall of the room.

You’re all in Las Vegas, celebrating Jungkook’s and your three-year wedding anniversary. It was a spontaneous trip planned just a few hours before catching the earliest plane. None of you are new to Vegas, Taehyung, who’s lacking enthusiasm. The moment he steps foot in your and Jungkook’s hotel room, he knocks out.

The room has become the main hangout spot for everyone.

“I aspire to be as delusional as Kook,” Ari jokes from her spot on the floor in front of the mirror, curling her hair. The group bursts out laughing as Jungkook rolls his eyes and wraps his arms around your neck from behind, joining in the laughter.

Jungkook’s strong personality is one of the things that drew you to him. He always knows how to make you laugh, no matter the situation, with his random remarks and perfect timing.

2.

“I think this is the dumbest thing ever,” Jungkook sighs, bouncing his leg where Iseul is sitting, sucking on her pink pacifier. Her two small pigtails bounce with each movement of your husband’s leg.

“She needs them, they’re literally mandatory, baby,” you lay your head on his shoulder, glancing around the clinic and noticing a brunette mom making googly eyes at your husband. Jungkook, too worried about his daughter, doesn’t even notice.

“I know, but do you not hear all the babies crying?” Jungkook says, watching Iseul giggle at his worried expression. “I’m afraid you’re worrying more than her,” you laugh, squeezing Iseul’s cheeks, making her squirm in Jungkook’s lap. “Aren’t you so cute, huh?” You coo, eliciting giggles from Iseul.

“Oh no,” Iseul pouts, pointing to the pacifier on the ground. “Oh no, it’s right, princess,” Jungkook bends over, picking up the pink pacifier and passing it to you. Iseul reaches for it eagerly, but you scrunch your face, sticking out your tongue. “Yuck,” you say, and Iseul mimics you, making Jungkook laugh at her reaction. “God, can’t believe I made such a perfect offspring,” Jungkook exclaims, showering Iseul’s face with kisses, which only makes her laugh more.

“You did not just call her offspring,” you gasp, a snort slipping past your mouth, making Jungkook laugh loudly before quieting down, realizing where you are. “Jeon Iseul?” The door opens, revealing a woman, likely the doctor’s assistant.

You and Jungkook immediately stand up, making your way to her. “Iseul?” she asks, and you confirm with a smile, interlocking your fingers with your husband’s as he holds Iseul on his other arm.

“Okay, follow me,” she says, leading you through a hallway adorned with pastel colors and animals painted on the walls, catching Iseul’s attention as she points and babbles.

“Gee-raffe!” she babbles, her baby teeth showing as she smiles at the animals. “Aw, she’s the cutest,” the assistant remarks, turning to give a warm smile to your daughter. She opens a sliding door with a giant elephant in the middle, leading you inside.

“Take a seat. Whoever’s going to hold her, please sit there,” she points to the big chair in the middle of the room. Jungkook sits, placing Iseul on his lap and adjusting her dress.

“Okay, can you tell me her birthday?” the assistant asks. “November 10th, 2022,” you answer, adjusting your cap as Jungkook pokes Iseul’s cheek.

“Okay, the doctor will be here in a few. Bye, Iseul. Nice meeting you,” she waves at your daughter, who waves back before the assistant exits the room.

3.

“I want another one,” Jungkook whines, attacking your neck with kisses. “Baby, no,” you moan as he sucks and nips, leaving red marks on your throat.

“Please, give me another one,” your husband pouts, finally looking at you. His tattooed hand holds the base of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss as he smiles into it, making your teeth clash.

The kiss is messy, strings of saliva connecting between you both each time you separate to catch your breath. Jungkook bites your lip, making you moan into his mouth, to which he replies with a cocky smile.

“I’ll fuck you so good, baby, please,” Jungkook whines between kisses. “Please,” kiss. “Please,” another kiss. “Please,” and another.

“We can’t,” you reply between kisses. “Why the fuck not? We can do them right now,” Jungkook says, pulling you closer by your throat.

Jungkook has been wanting another kid, but as much as you want to say ‘fuck it’ and do it, you just couldn’t at the moment. You’ve been too busy with school, and the same goes for Jungkook with work, but he didn’t seem to think it through. He wanted another mini you, turning the house upside down alongside Iseul.

“Please, Iseul would love to have a brother… or sister,” he adds late, causing you to side-eye him, which only makes him smile as he nestles into your neck.

“No babies yet, let’s wait,” you happily sigh as he places a kiss on your collarbone, twirling a strand of your hair.

“So we’re not fucking?” Jungkook peeks up with a grin as you burst out laughing. “Not without protection,” you scratch the back of his head, making him moan before he rests his head on your lap, looking up at you with a smile.

“I see how it is,” you joke as you feel him shift in your arms before laying his head on your lap. “What?” you ask, placing your small palm over his face before moving it around. Jungkook sticks his tongue out, licking your palm, which has you quickly retrieving your hand.

“Ew, you’re nasty,” you scrunch your nose as he reaches for your hair, pulling gently.

“That’s nasty? You literally asked me to spit in your mo—,” before he could finish, you place your palm over his mouth again, shutting him up as his eyes widen with amusement.

“Shush,” a small giggle leaves your lips as you blush like a high school girl. You’ve known Jungkook for over ten years, and till this day, he has you giggling and kicking your feet whenever he looks at you.

“I miss your lip piercing,” you pout, squishing his cheeks with your hand as he laughs, poking your belly button with his pinky. “I do too, but Iseul literally ripped my shit,” he says, a pained expression on his face as he remembers his daughter pulling on the lip piercing with incredible force.

“Is that why you took out your ear ones too?” you ask, biting your lower lip as your finger plays with his pierced earlobe. He nods, his eyes fluttering closed as your fingers trace along his perfectly carved eyebrows.

“Well, I miss them,” you pout, tracing the outline of his lips.

“I’ll put them back on tomorrow,” he winks, making you roll your eyes before pinching his lips together.

4.

“I still can’t believe you guys won’t add me to the group chat,” Jungkook whines, leaning his head on your shoulder and looking up at you with hopeful eyes.

“It’s only girls, so no,” Eunbi says, finishing braiding her thick blonde hair as Jungkook sends her a dirty look, which she returns.

“Namjoon is on it?” Your husband continues poking your cheek, as if that would make you add him to the group chat. But only if he knew that you weren’t even admin, and that it was Eunbi’s job to begin with.

“He’s part of the girls. He just gets us,” you give him an apologetic look, which he rolls his eyes at before scooting to the furthest edge of the couch and crossing his arms.

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | pink skies

a/n: bf!luke, who else cheered?; suggests that five star and luke spent the night but nothing explicit! i decided not to let the angst monster touch them. they're my babies!!!! five star and luke get behind me!!!

viii. pink skies by lany

series masterlist | previous | next

there were many things about luke castellan that surprised you. one being that he wore glasses, or at least is supposed to wear glasses. he refused to wear them, against the sound medical advice of his optometrist and his mom’s insistence. his first adult responsibility was buying his own contacts because his mom refused to set up the appointments for him out of spite. he only wore his glasses when he was around the boys and poisoned mercury’s management team, but never out in public, and definitely never on stage. 

two, he loved jazz music. only a handful of people knew this about him and half of those who do, don’t believe him. he supposed it was hard for people to believe that a pop punk lead singer would have an appreciation for jazz music, but luke loved it. jazz always sounded romantic and sensual and there was something calming about it. he listened to jazz before each show. he’ll never admit this unless you twist his arm, but he wept like a goddamn baby when he first watched la la land. 

third, he was a polyglot, which he says is a little ironic because according to his mom, he spoke his first words in english significantly later than his peers, but he picked up on other languages quickly. he first found out about his talent in high school when he started hanging out at the rodriguez household and chris’ mom and sisters started saying phrases to him in spanish. he started taking spanish classes in high school and kept teaching himself when he dropped out. so far he can speak spanish, italian, and a bit of french. he attempted to learn greek, but it never clicked for him. he knew how to read it but his pronunciation was atrocious. he promised he’d try again sometime soon, but who knows if that’ll happen.

fourth, his idea of pillow talk was the two of you asking random questions to each other to get to know each other better, which is how you learned all these things about him. after one thing led to another last night, you fell asleep to the sound of luke’s voice against your ear. it wasn’t even that late; the group hadn’t come back from their trip to get food after they left the party, but you and luke were sleepy as you lay in the tangled sheets of your bed, at peace. 

you learned that he was ticklish on the side of his ribs and that he planned to get a tattoo there but when the artist tried to put the stencil on his skin, he giggled and moved around so much that the artist warned him about his placement. he didn’t end up getting the tattoo there, but instead got it a little lower on his torso. luke had six tattoos, making him the one in the band with the least amount. the stolls were tattoo fiends and made it their mission to get a small tattoo from each place they visited on tour. luke’s personal favorite was the single line on the side of their index finger. it was a messily done stick-n-poke after one too many drinks in new jersey. 

when he was younger, he used to climb on the roof of his house in connecticut. his parents warned him that he was going to hurt himself one day, but he, being the rascal that he was, never listened. until one day, after a light rain, he’d gone up there and slipped on the shingles and fell face-first against the roof. he scratched his face pretty badly, hence the scar on his face now. he told people that he got the scar from a bar fight because it sounded cooler. one day his childhood pictures will be posted on some website and his cover story won’t be as believable anymore, but that’s a bridge he’ll cross when he gets there. 

it was weird to fall asleep next to someone. you hadn’t found yourself in this position in a long time, longer than you’d care to admit. when you hooked up with people in college, you purposefully made up some excuse about why they had to leave before sun up. “my roommate will be back soon.” “i have a huge test tomorrow morning.” “my friend just called and said she needed my help so i gotta go.” but with luke, you didn’t feel the need to make up an excuse to kick him out. you didn’t want him to go. 

he asked the silent question as he was putting his clothes back on, hesitantly approaching your bedroom door to exit. he didn’t know if he was overstaying his welcome. he didn’t want to rush you when it came to things like this. so when he’d asked where his other shoe went, not caring about where it landed in the heat of the moment, you shrugged your shoulders and said, “dunno. we’ll figure it out in the morning, come back to bed.” 

you didn’t need to tell him twice. 

luke woke up before you did. you were lying on his chest, face pressed into the crook of his neck. your breaths made his skin tingle. he twirled the ends of your hair around his fingers, taking in the view of you next to him. he could get used to waking up like this every morning, he thought. he couldn’t imagine a better way to start his day. 

you stirred, craning your head to face him as your eyes fluttered open, a subdued smile on your face, “g’mornin.” 

“g’mornin’, five star,” he replied, lips immediately leaning over to press against yours. he frowned when you pulled back, shaking your head, “let me kiss you.” 

“i have morning breath,” you cringed, moving your arm from under you to caress the nape of his neck. you placed a kiss on the corner of his lips, making him groan. 

“i don’t care,” he pouted, nudging your nose with his own. you rolled your eyes but let him kiss you. the kiss was lazy and languid, lips moving gracefully against each other. it was sweet and slow like you were both trying to soak in this feeling with each other. you broke the kiss when you broke out into a smile, suddenly feeling shy. 

“it’s noon,” you said, glancing at your clock behind luke. “we need to get up soon.” 

“five more minutes,” he placed a string of kisses on your shoulder blade, grinning at the red marks he left on your skin from last night. “let’s stay here a little longer.” 

you had a feeling here meant something more than just the comfort of your bed. here was the bubble you both allowed yourself to stay in for the last twelve hours, a little universe that was just for the two of you. it was different kissing luke in the darkness of the night. you could blame it on the secrecy of it all, shadows hiding your feelings for him, no expectations or weight of the dreaded conversation, but in the morning light, you felt vulnerable. you knew the mature thing to do was to ask him about what last night meant. was it just a one-time thing? would things change between the two of you now that the chase was over? you didn’t know. 

little did you know, luke was thinking the same things as you. he would prolong this safe haven for as long as he could in case he would never get to experience it again. luke tightened his grip around your waist, breathing in the scent of your shampoo as he kissed your forehead. he couldn’t stop himself. he got a taste of what it was like to be with you and now, he couldn’t get enough. he’d find any excuse to have his lips on you. he grinned at you as he pulled away, “you snore, you know that?” 

you buried your face in your pillow, embarrassed, “stop it.” 

he laughed, “it’s cute, five star! i don’t mind it.” 

“are you sure?” you asked, scrunching your face up in disgust, “i can’t in good conscience let you sleep over again if you don’t even get any sleep because i snore.” 

“consider your conscience cleared because i really don’t mind,” luke pressed his lips against yours again. gods, he couldn’t get enough of you. “this makes up for it.” 

“ew,” you shoved him playfully, sitting up to start getting ready for the day. luke remained flat on his back on your bed, “you’re so fucking corny.”

he propped his head up on his extended elbow, a smirk on his face. the rays of sunlight that peeked through your blinds illuminated his toned chest. faint scratches and pink marks contrasted his tanned skin. “guilty.” 

you got up from bed, digging out a clean sweater from your closet. you wandered around your room, organizing things as you went on. luke watched you from your bed, eyes following your every move. his white shirt was peeking out from under the sweater. your sleep shorts showed off your toned legs perfectly. your hair was a mess, braids undone, but you still looked gorgeous. he blinked as your eyes darted to him, “you look beautiful.” 

you rolled your eyes, narrowing your eyes at him, “you can’t even see me properly. you don’t have your contacts in.” 

he’d taken them off before he fell asleep. he hated sleeping with contacts in. he’d snuck out in the middle of the night to grab his glasses from his nightstand before slipping back into bed with you. he was thankful you were a pretty heavy sleeper because he didn’t want you to think he was sneaking out to leave you by yourself after last night. when luke returned to his side of the bed, you rolled over and cuddled into him in your sleep, like you’d been waiting for him to return. 

luke reached over to retrieve his glasses from your bedside table and placed them on his face. he pushed them up on the bridge of his nose and shrugged, “still beautiful.” 

you walked over to him, sitting on his lap with your thighs caging him in. you held his face in your hands, admiring how he looked with the frames on his face. luke’s hands made their way to your waist, steadying you. you smiled, “i like how you look with your glasses.” 

a lopsided smile appeared on his face, boyish and charming. “yeah?” 

“mhm,” you hummed, “you look like a nerd. s’cute.” 

“pfft,” he scoffed, poking your side, “i’m not a nerd. i’m a rockstar.” 

“shut the fuck up,” there was no venom in your voice, despite your words. you couldn’t muster any resemblance of annoyance when he was looking at you all doe-eyed and pouty-lipped. you moved from on top of him, crawling over to your empty spot, “luke?” 

he turned to you, “five star?” 

“what are we doing?” 

“we’re spending the day in bed,” he replied, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. he knew that the conversation was coming in soon. he was scared of what you’d say next. 

your smile vanished as your shoulders hunched over, “you know what i mean.” 

luke rubbed his jaw, “you tell me.” 

luke didn’t know what he should say. he didn’t want to say that last night meant nothing to him because he’d be lying if he said that and he didn’t want to lie to you, but he also didn’t want to scare you off by telling you how he really felt. it felt like a situation he couldn’t win. his pessimism was hounding him. he didn’t want to mess this up before it had the chance to start. 

“are we just fucking around? is this casual because i–” 

at first he thought he could handle it. he’ll let you take the lead, he’ll follow you. whatever you wanted, he’s game for it, even if it meant that he got hurt along the way. but then the word casual left your lips and it felt like he was slapped across the face. he thought he could handle it if you wanted you guys to be casual or friends who kiss sometimes or friends who occasionally do more than kissing sometimes, but actually hearing you use those words made him tense.

“please don’t ever use those words about us again,” luke breathed out, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “i don’t know if you’ve noticed five star, but there’s nothing casual about how i feel about you.”

“i think we need to start talking to each other more,” you pondered. “because there’s nothing casual about how i feel about you either.” 

“throw a guy a bone sometimes. you’ve tormented me for two months. how was i supposed to know that?” he teased.

you cocked an eyebrow, “but yet you like me so really what does it say about you?” 

just like that, the indecision faded. it was back to just you and luke. the same way you’d always teased each other and pushed each other’s buttons. you’d both been stressed about what the other was thinking when you should’ve just talked to each other. perhaps all the poets and the writers in the world were onto something when they said that communication is key because you two wasted so much time running away from what this could be. it was funny really, how the two of you were both keeping these things to yourself, too scared of how you felt for each other to make a move. how much sooner could this have happened if you told him how you felt the minute you realized it? would he have kissed you a month ago? would you have been waking up with him beside you on your bed for weeks? who knows? 

“it says more about you, to be honest,” he said, “you’re irresistible. even when you’re mean to me, i adore you.” 

“you’re such a flirt, castellan.” 

“i need to up my game,” luke chuckled, “yeah, i got the girl but now i gotta work to keep you.” 

you placed a hand on your chin, pretending to think, “i don’t recall being asked to be anyone’s girl.” 

“you’re breaking my heart, five star,” he sighed dramatically, clutching his chest. he dropped his body weight on yours, making you squeal and attempt to push him off. he laughed at your efforts. “be my girl?” 

“on one condition.”

“anything.” 

“let me hear the song.” 

luke let out a full belly laugh, rolling over on the bed. he shook his head, biting his bottom lip. there was never a moment where he wasn’t on his toes when he was with you. he didn’t expect you to say that. you really were stubborn when it came to things you put your mind to. that fucking song. “no, i told you it’s not ready!” 

you stuck your tongue out at him, “then no.” 

luke’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as a goofy grin appeared on his face. he pulled you on his lap again, back pressed against his chest. he moved your hair to one side, kissing down the other side of your neck in soft, quick motions. he mumbled into your skin, “fine, but i’m following you around like a lost puppy. i’m yours.” 

you sighed dreamily, reaching over to place a hand on his arm. you couldn’t help but make fun of him despite the butterflies in your stomach, “simp.” 

you felt him nod against your body, “that’s me.” 

“we really need to get out of bed.” 

“five more minutes?” 

it had been at least fifteen since he last asked for more time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. you gave in and got back under your covers with him. you let him be the small spoon this time, your arms wrapped around his toned back, smiling at the soft sighs that left his lips when you ran your fingers down his spine. he kissed your collarbones, face relaxing as sleep overtook him again. 

you watched him fall asleep and reached for your phone, trying not to disturb his rest. you snapped a quick picture of him, smiling as you admired his features. you were falling for luke castellan.

[sweetteainthesummerx]

THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (13)

In which they visit Paris!

series masterlist

notes: let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and leave a comment! Enjoy :)

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

alexandrasaintmleux posted on their story

caption: Louvre, pastries and Aubrey

olliebearman posted

olliebearman c'est la vie (the only French I know 😌)

liked by kimi.antonelli, aubreyyang and 701,694 others

user1 ARE WE GONNA TALK ABOUT SLIDE 3

-- olbreylovers YES THATS DEFINETLY HER THEYRE SOFT LAUNCHINGGG

scuderiaferrari stick to italian

-- user2 ADMIN!!

landonorris nice sunnies

-- olliebearman thanks their borrowed

-- aubreyyang pls return them I can't see 😔

-- olliebearman omw 🏃‍♂️

-- user3 not them flirting under landos comment

-- landonorris right this is so rude I demand compensation

-- aubreyyang we'll get you a magnet

-- landonorris DEAL

user5 they're in love in this essay I will

aubreyyang posted

aubreyyang are you happy to be in paris? 🇫🇷💋

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, olliebearman and 670,332 others

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dior.n.goodjohn OUI!!

-- aubreyyang miss u bae

aryansimhadri pls bring me back a t shirt too

-- aubreyyang will do

user1 THEYRE SHARING SUNGLASSES = THEYRE IN LOVEEE

alexandrasaintmleux mignon

-- aubreyyang je t'adore <3

aubreyyfanpagee I love how we have collectively decided that yes, they are dating

MESSAGES

ollie

r u still up 😊

aubrey

yep what's up

ollie

wanna come to my room and watch a movie?

aubrey

ive heard that line before

ollie

NOOO I would just like some cuddles and a Disney movie pls

aubrey

okay :)

let me shower and ill head over

ollie

see you in 20

Aubrey examined her outfit: a big Ferrari shirt given to her through PR, a pair of cotton shorts and white scrunch socks. 

She figured it hardly mattered; more and more everyday, she was sure that Ollie would think she was beautiful not matter what she wore. 

When she showed up at his door, he was very broad, damp and shirtless. 

Not to brag, but she was one of the biggest young names in Hollywood. She’d worked with male models and actors alike, but none of them managed to stir up a storm in the pit of her stomach like Ollie could. 

His sweatpants (grey) were slung low on his hips, and he had a towel in one hand. With a dopey grin, he swung her into his arms as she squealed. 

“Oliver, you’re getting water in my hair! I just blew dried it!”

“Yeah? Looks nice.” He told her, all wide innocent eyes as he dumped her on his bed. The big television had Cars 1 & 2 queued up already. 

“Nice,” she grinned as he settled in beside her, “very fitting.”

“I thought you’d appreciate my wittiness.” He shrugged modestly, and she poked his rib. 

“Watch the movie, Bearman.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He casually flopped over onto her lap, laughing when she groaned at his weight. Aubrey slid her right leg under him, and he shifted so he was lying between her legs, still facing the TV with his head resting on her stomach. 

“How are you liking France?” He murmured, sliding a big hand up and down her calf.  Something low and hot bubbled in her stomach and only intensified when he dragged the tip of his nose over the sensitive skin of her thigh.

“I love it here. It’s so rare I get to practice my French now,” she carded her fingers through his soft brown hair, “how about you?”

“It’s…” he sighed contentedly, pushing up into her hand like a puppy dog, “it’s…really nice, doing touristy stuff. During race weekends we don’t get to.”

“Hmm. And there’s not much paparazzi around. In America, it’s so terrible. I just want to hide away in my apartment.”

“I’ll bet. Sometimes I forget that you’re super famous.” He admitted, stroking her ankle with his thumb.

“Sometimes I forget when I’m with you too.”

“I think that’s good. We’re just…two normal people.”

“Do you remember my Elle magazine interview?”

“How could I not?” He answered quietly, and she flushed. 

“I meant what I said you know. You and Charl and Alex and Lily…I’ve never got to be a teenager and this is really nice.”

“Me too. I mean this is pretty glamorous, but,” 

“It’s still better than just the cameras and the fame.” She concluded for him, suddenly feeling very sleepy.

“You’re better than any camera and all of the fame in the world, Yang.” He murmured.

Her fingers slid to his ear, fiddling with the soft his earlobe.

She wondered what they were. He was her best friend, no one could make her laugh or feel so much like he could. Being with his was easier than it had been with Mace or anyone else. He always told her what he was thinking.

"You are something special, Ollie Bearman."

Aubrey woke up to the sound of a Shakira song and a space heater pressed up against her. 

She realized, blinking the sleep out of her eyes, that the Shakira song was Charles’s ringtone and the space heater was one Ollie Bearman. 

She was tucked under the covers, her legs tangled with his much longer ones. Her face was pressed into his bicep, his forearms locked firmly around her waist. He looked so angelic, sleeping through Hips Don’t Lie. She sat up slowly, reaching for her phone. 

“Hello?” She asked blearily.

“Hello? That’s all you have to say for yourself? Alex and I are worried sick! Where are you?”

“Oh, shit. Sorry! I fell asleep in Ollie’s room,” she heard Alex yell on the other side of the line and Charles gasp, “no! Not like that. We watched a movie and knocked out, honest.” 

She felt like she’d been caught by her parents. 

“Aubrey?” Alex came onto the phone, “You will tell me everything later. Also can we please leave before lunch to shop? Charl owes me a bag. I told him you two would end up in a situation like this!”

“You guys bet about us?” Ollie lifted his head, squinting up at her. 

“No..?” The older woman tried, “Okay, yes. See you in an hour!”

“Wha..” He asked, voice deep from sleep. She bit her lip, no one should look that good waking up.

He pulled her back down, pressing his face into her hair. 

“We should get up,” she murmured, having no intention of moving for a while. 

“Sure.” He replied, burrowing them further into the sheets. 

aubberieyaang posted

aubberieyaang ARGH I CANT STOP SMILING HEHEHHE

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celine_diorr another fallen soldier :(

-- aubberieyaang HE TOLD ME IM BETTER THAN FAME

-- celine_diorr damn maybe hes kinda good to keep around if he can get us more paddock passes

-- chuck_bushes yo can I get in on that

walkdontrun EW THERE ARE CHILDREN ON THIS PAGE

-- aubberieyaang ...

liv_laugh_love maybe so american was actually about you guys all along

-- aubberieyaang still a banger tho

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

Taglist: @callsignwidow @iloveyou3000morgan @honethatty12 @taygrls @destinyg237 @ilivbullyingjeongin @eiaaasamantha @1uvsptnik

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[thepersonperson]

I can't believe it's genuinely canon that Geto was jealous of Sukuna being the one to fill up Gojo.

I know Gojo reassured him but we saw he thought of Toji as the last person who satisfied him. No wonder Geto ended up on a crusade against no cursed energy monkeys.

Geto's insecurity with his place in Gojo's life really was his downfall. (On top of not having access to Karl Marx.) He kind of just assumed that Gojo being in a league of his own after awakening meant they could never be together as The Strongest duo.

That insecurity was so pervasive he initiated their break up by objectifying Gojo for his strength. And he later assumed Gojo stopped loving him too.

But you might be onto something with Geto's jealousy starting with Toji. Though he didn't see Gojo awaken (which was essentially "la petite mort" or the little death), Geto was around to hear Gojo call Toji アンタ (Anta). And that particular usage of Anta was really weird.

(Yeah this is one of those asks that poked my neuroses in just the right way.)

-Content Warning: Brief discussion of teenage sexuality.

-Mangareader(.)to for the raws.

-TCBscans for everything but Vol 0.

(Click images for captions/citations.)

Gojo's You Pronouns

I kind of lost my mind over Sukuna's you pronoun usage if you want to know why this kind of thing matters to me. Thankfully, Gojo's you pronoun usage is much more straightforward. Which is why the use of Anta for Toji sticks out a lot.

Gojo usually uses オマエ (Omae—masculine, informal, between peers or to look down on the addressee) for absolutely everyone. Friends, enemies? Doesn't matter, he's using Omae. It's either that, 君 (Kimi—affectionate towards juniors) with his students, or he avoids using you pronouns to be polite. He has only deviated from this pattern with two people—Uraume with てまえ (Temee—hostile and offensive), and Anta with Toji.

Anta is a contraction of あなた (Anata) and both are used in the exact same way. It's an informal you mostly used by people learning Japanese since normal use suggests a familiar and casual relationship with the addressee. That can be rude depending on the context. In the context of love, it's a romantic thing, colloquially called the wife pronoun as its often used by a wife to her husband. The only real difference between Anta and Anata is the indication of class. As a contraction, Anta is seen as more low class/uneducated than Anata.

So what did Gojo mean by his use of Anta with Toji?

Since Anta can indicate the speaker is casual/friendly, uneducated, or flirting, we'll have to infer what Gojo meant with context. Sometimes, it's easier to look at how other characters use this pronoun to get an idea.

For example, Hanami uses Anata for everyone which is why there's nothing flirtatious about them using it. This is just how they talk in general and they aren't singling anyone out in a special way.

A male character who uses Anta for most people in the way Hanami uses Anata is Ike from Fire Emblem. (I'm so sorry this is the only guy I can think of using this as a default you pronoun and he's from a completely different series.)

Ike uses Ore (masculine, informal) as his personal pronoun and he was raised as a mercenary with no formal education, so the Anta in context is more of him being from the lower class and casual. Anta is also less masculine than Omae, so this is also gives Ike that soft edge to his roughness that everyone loves him for. When he uses Anta while speaking to nobles in Path of Radiance Ch 14, they find it extremely offensive and get pissed because they perceive it as him not showing enough respect. (And he does call them out for being dickholes using Anta which makes them even angrier.)

If I recall correctly, (sorry I only really remember Zelgius and Sephiran's pronouns because it subtly confirms them a queer couple), Ike uses Omae (or Temee? The fudging accessible JP transcript went poof.) for the Black Knight and no one else. The Black Knight killed his father and Ike hates him for this. This Omae is not friendly, it's hostile.

I use this example because it shows how for one character these pronouns mean one thing and other characters it the polar opposite. Gojo uses Omae to be friendly, Ike uses Omae to be hostile. Ike uses Anta to be friendly, Gojo uses Anta to...

I don't know.

I don't know why Gojo uses Anta for Toji. It's really fudging odd and he never uses it again or for anyone else. Gojo for Toji uses Anta then Omae then Anta.

First it's confusion over being stabbed. I think in this context it means more of "hey there, buddy" in the way someone might try to talk down an aggressive person by trying to be chummy.

At the time, it probably told Geto something was really wrong because Gojo never uses that pronoun.

The Omae he swaps to is normal Gojo usage. He explains how Toji screwed up with killing him in the way he's been talking at all the assassins that came after Riko.

But internally? Toji remains Anta. This is weird since Gojo usually just sticks to Omae or some kind of nomer when he doesn't know people's names.

Leading up to this internal monologue, Gojo is not angry. He's extremely zen. So much so that he apologizes to Riko for not being upset she was just murdered. This makes me think the Anta isn’t meant to be disparaging.

Anta has always been less harsh than Omae in comparison. It can imply a distance between the speaker and addressee or it can suggest they're very close.

I can't tell if Gojo is trying to express a unique kinship he feels with Toji or if he's putting Toji on a pedestal of strength he idolizes and considers himself separate from. Perhaps it's both and this confusion is intentional. Gojo is a teenager figuring himself out in the most traumatic way possible here. My point is that this use of Anta indicates Gojo feels some kind of way about Toji he doesn't for anyone else.

Toji is very special to Gojo.

Most people are aware of Gojo picking up certain habits and speech patterns because Geto. Rereading JJK after learning about Gojo's history with Geto turns a lot of his silly quirks into things that are really depressing.

Toji is second to Geto in terms of influencing adult Gojo's behavior I think. Not just in the paranoia he experiences of being made vulnerable again, but some of his speaking mannerisms. Gojo asking for last words before he kills someone started with Toji.

He has that same empty look when he does it each time too. This doesn't seem to be like him mourning Toji in the way he mourns Geto by speaking in the way his beloved suggested. It's like he's reliving trauma. And dear lord did Toji traumatize Gojo. The kind of terror in the faces teenage Gojo makes while being hunted and killed are never made again.

But despite this, Gojo as an adult seems to look back on this awful experience fondly sometimes. When Sukuna starts to make him think he's about to lose, Gojo smiles as he recalls this feeling.

Satisfaction? Being killed by this guy was satisfying? I suppose it makes sense, this temporary death did awaken him to immense power that made him feel amazing. In that sense, Toji was Gojo's greatest teacher. And as a teacher, Gojo molds a philosophy from that experience and tries to imbue it on his students in a less traumatic fashion. (I say tries because this still killed Yuji by accident and caused a lot of unneeded stress for the second years in Vol 0.)

As you can see here, Gojo thinks this way because he did die alone despite having strong allies. And because his death made him stronger, he thinks growth can be triggered in a similar fashion. Geto calls him out on how fudged up this “tough love” is.

Gray morally aside, these beliefs and actions are because of Toji. A lot of what Gojo is as an adult is one giant unhealthy coping mechanism for Toji, fondness included.

When Nanami calls Gojo a Jujutsu Pervert he isn't wrong. Gojo is a freak that gets off to fighting in part due to Toji. It's like this horrible little ball of fear, denial, and horny with him. Thinking about Toji being the last person who satisfied him in that way over Geto isn't out of character. The types of blissed out faces he made during that fight do pop up in the Sukuna fight.

We also have to acknowledge that Toji is at the got dang afterlife airport with everyone else. For some reason, despite all the pain he inflicted, Gojo admires him on a similar level to the people who didn't want him dead.

Toji is a lot of Gojo's firsts. His first fear, his first death, his first awakening, and most importantly his first exposure to revolution. Toji is the first person Gojo met that escaped the bindings of Jujutsu Society and obtained freedom. He defied the Zenins and started a life outside of them. His pride and grief brought him back, but for a few years he was the impossible success story.

Though Geto heavily influenced Gojo’s morality, Toji was the basis for Gojo’s revolutionary ideas. It shows in how he trains his students and values the strength of non-sorcerers. He correctly identifies that Toji only wound up this way because of Jujutsu Society, mainly the higher ups, and vows to do something about it.

Is this to prevent another Toji because of fear? Is this how Gojo honors his memory too? Both, probably. Toji basically asked Gojo to be the godfather to Megumi, his son named Blessing, and prevent him from being raised a Zenin. In other words, he gave Gojo his blessing to do better than him and break that awful generational cycle. Gojo has taken that very seriously.

Megumi knows next to nothing about the Zenins until he's made the head after Naobito dies and Maki massacres them. The fact that Megumi being made the head ultimately triggered Maki's massacre of the Zenin Clan is like Toji getting exactly what he wanted from beyond the grave. A mini revolution made possible with Gojo laying the groundwork by providing a space where Maki can exist without hate.

Geto's Jealousy

As Geto was spiralling, he probably thought back on Gojo’s use of Anta with Toji and got a little jealous. After all, Toji was the reason Gojo grew so much as a sorcerer instead of him.

Can you imagine? The love of your life keeps telling you that together you're The Strongest and that's why he's with you. But he goes off with some dude after calling him something he's never called you and comes back a god. He grew more in those few minutes with this rando than the years he spent with you combined. Inadequate wouldn't even scratch the surface of that feeling.

It was always a one-sided admiration—Toji was a bum who leeched off women as you would expect any straight dude would coming from an immensely misogynistic household. He killed children for money and had beef with an 8 year old after looking at him once. But Geto still might've been envious that a non-sorcerer did more for Gojo’s growth than any sorcerer.

Geto’s Coping

The aftermath of Toji put a strain on their relationship in more ways than one. First and foremost, it made Gojo The Strongest. As I said earlier, this caused Geto to become insecure with his place in Gojo’s life. But what I didn’t mention is that the higher ups exploiting this newfound strength is why this never got addressed until it was way too late.

As shown here Geto’s condition gets worse because not only is he mentally isolated from Gojo, but physically as well. A horrible little detail—changes in weight can be very gradual. If you're with someone all the time, you'll likely never notice it. Gojo was kept separate from Geto for so long that this difference was noticeable.

They fall out of sync because Jujutsu Society has decided that their labor is more valuable apart. The problem here exploitation. Toji made it extremely clear to both Gojo and Geto that was the problem. Geto unfortunately came to the wrong conclusion on how to deal with it.

Tags from @nyan-bynary on this post sum up my feelings on this nicely.

#OK OK I HAVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT HOW GETO GOT RADICALIZED BASICALLY INTO FASCISM BC HE ENDED UP BLAMING THE WRONG CLASS FOR THEIR OPPRESSION #LIKE THIS IS SO VERY MUCH THE CASE WITH LIKE RANDO WHITE LIBERTARIANS AND SHIT IRL TOO LIKE THEY NOTICE SHIT SUCKS #BUT THEY END UP BLAMING THE EVEN MORE OPPRESSED PEOPLE INSTEAD OF TAKING THAT ANGER UPWARDS TOWARDS THE ACTUAL PPL DESTROYING EVERYTHING

#like geto saw a man who was so fucking abused and treated like shit by his clan that he basically ran away and started a new life #where he resents the people who were oppressing him but he still had to work for similar people to make ends meet #and in doing so was made a pawn for the internal power struggles of the higher ups #which hurt the other people lower in the hierarchy as well including gojo and geto #but instead of seeing the hand that guided everything here he blamed the toy in the hand instead #devoting himself to destroy every single toy which unknowingly included himself and the sorcerers he wanted to protect so badly as well

#like in his efforts to gather sorcerers he ended up doing a better more inclusive job of gathering sorceres from EVERYWHERE he could reach #he had the true potential to make real grassroot connections with fellow oppressed people but he was misguided on who the target should be #like it's ironic that the only black sorcerer that we see is in the group of the guy that calls non sorceres 'monkeys' #because it says something about him that his problem actually wasn't racism (against non-sorcerers) #it was the high risk terrible lifestyle forced upon every sorcerer in the name of non-sorcerers #WHO DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU GUYS EXIST AND ARE BEING EXPLOITED LIKE THIS IN THEIR NAME IN THE FIRST PLACE MAYBE TRY TO FIX THAT AT SOME POINT???

#it's all so sad bc the moment he chose the wrong people to blame his fate was sealed and it sucks bc he could've done real good things #gojo was the closest to doing anything remotely revolutionary but he went the too peaceful route and it cost him everything #he didn't organize or protest with enough destruction or maybe he thought he couldn't until it became a last resort

#like I find it funny that despite everything gojo wanted to do bc his form of resistance was so lax he ended up alienating hakari and kirara #and the elders. the divide and conquerers that they were used it to expel them from the school #just ahhhhhhhhh so many thoughts I wish they could've done more I wish I wish I wish

In that post, I joked that Karl Marx could’ve saved Geto, but that wasn’t really a joke. Trying to address exploitation without the theoretical framework to be productive about it is like swimming against an ocean riptide at night. You can recognize that you’re drowning, but not knowing where the shore is or that you need to swim at an angle instead of directly against the current dooms you.

The really sad thing is that Geto never realized that non-sorcerers were exploited just like him. Nanami worked directly alongside them and realized their exploitation was one in the same.

He realized that this exploitation was a systemic issue. Gojo realized that those in power were responsible for enforcing it. Both of them lacked the drive to be aggressive about that in the way Geto was. Together, the 3 of them really could’ve unionized to obtain the work-life balance they desperately needed.

But that was never going to happen. The higher ups isolated them until their communication skills and therefore relationships deteriorated alongside their mental states. (Notice how even outside of Jujustu Nanami has no friends. He's just as alone as those two.)

Geto's Love

I don’t think Geto ever learned how to love properly after Toji in a very similar vein to Gojo. Though he more outwardly shows affection to his family, there’s this sense of distance he has between them as a cult leader. His children call him Master and do not take his last name. He’s worshiped as a figurehead and for his beauty. And no one really understands him in the way Gojo used to.

And it must also be noted that the anguish from his family and daughters at his possession did not cause his body to stir. Only Gojo calling his name did.

It's not that Geto doesn't love his family, he just loves Gojo more despite having spent less time with him. (10 years with his family vs 3 years with Gojo.) Even Geto himself says that his family isn’t enough for him to be truly happy.

A world where sorcerers are not exploited is what he thinks will fix this. He wants this for himself, his family, and Gojo. Especially Gojo.

Their breakup was caused by Gojo being exploited more than anyone else. Geto has always objected to that. A world of only sorcerers hypothetically gets rid of the labor exploitation Geto hates for every sorcerer. And it also creates a world where Gojo doesn't need to be The Strongest. It's a world where instead of being overworked, Gojo will have all the time in the world for Geto.

This love Geto holds for Gojo underlies his actions. Him setting this ridiculous plan into motion on December 24th is a grandiose romantic gesture. You can feel the resentment and the longing. He tried to fill the Gojo hole in his heart with a new family and hatred only to fail.

Gojo reciprocated. He always did. But neither of them realized the love was mutual until both of them were dead because work came first.

So yeah anon, Geto was jealous. Both Toji and Sukuna got to know Gojo in ways he couldn’t because being an enemy of Gojo ironically gives them more direct attention from him since that’s a part of work.

Jujustu Society vs Queerness

Even if Gojo and Geto realized their love before everything went to hell, I'm not sure if they would've acted on it due to societal stigma.

Like @nyan-bynary mentioned, Kiara's transness is something the higher ups no doubt rejected. The type of conservatism modern Japan is under does not embrace the open queerness of the past that was especially prevalent during the Heian Era, you know the Jujutsu Golden Age. In a reflection of these politics, the Zenins embody the type of sexual hierarchy wanted by the elders—men run everything and women have children. Even though Hakari and Kiara are a straight couple, they're unable to have children together which is rebellion in of itself. Why Gojo didn't do more for them is kind of baffling.

To be fair, Gojo kind of sucks at sticking up against injustices like this. Hakari and Kiara aren't the only failed in this way. When Geto is verbally discriminatory towards Maki, Gojo doesn't refute his beliefs, Yuta does.

This is honestly, pretty fudged up. Gojo just lets Geto be horrible and offers a weak "don't do that" as a response instead of arguing for Maki's personhood. And we know for a fact he is strong enough to do something and be taken seriously. After all, he did threaten the elders to protect Yuta's life. He didn't stop Geto until he became a large-scale physical threat. For some reason, that's the only type of discrimination Gojo will act on—violent acts that will result in death.

I think this is because Geto told him he needed a really good reason to kill other humans before he snapped. It took a lot of convincing for Gojo to slaughter the higher ups as the result of this. His inaction here could also stem from Gojo being so used to dehumanization that he hardly recognizes it as a problem. But Gojo did force Nanami to address Yuji as a human child instead of Sukuna's Vessel later, so perhaps he reflected on this exchange and tried to do better. (Despite allowing everyone else from Kyoto to be weird about Yuji.)

Regardless, it's this passive mentality when it comes to non-violent discrimination that makes me think Gojo wouldn't have acted on his feelings for Geto.

There's probably a lot of pressure on Gojo to have progeny of some kind (aka be straight and have babies). I do find it a bit odd we've seen nothing of his Clan to the point that Megumi also knows nothing about it. (Though this was probably to spare him the politics drama for the enjoyment of his youth.) They did spoil Gojo rotten, but that doesn't mean backwards societal expectations weren't thrust on him from birth. He was raised to be a living weapon you know. Suppression of his own queerness was likely a part of that education.

And though Gojo is pretty rebellious when it comes to challenging the status quo, like antagonizing those older than him and letting those younger than him speak freely around him, he still has some toxic ideas from his youth he hasn't let go of. He prioritizes his strength over bonds and allows himself to be exploited while trying to make sure his students don't wind up like him...by having them prioritize strength through pushing their limits.

In other words, Gojo would likely just repress his feelings for Geto if it meant obtaining his goals. A queer relationship would be used against him by the higher ups since it rebels against the expectations of Jujustu Society in a way he hasn't pushed hard against. (I'm so sorry Hakari and Kiara.)

With that being said, it's not all that surprising that a lot of the curse users are openly queer. They've freed themselves of exploitation and expectations. Their genders and sexualities are theirs to control. None of them are shy about it. Larue openly loves Geto, Sukuna will kill you for not respecting his disinterest in romance and sex, Uraume will kill you for not respecting that, Kashimo will hit on a man as he's being killed by him, Kenjaku is Kenjaku.

I don't think it's a coincidence that Gojo is at his horniest when he's fighting other men. It's like the one space where he's allowed to engage that side of himself without fear of repercussion because at the end of the day, one of them is going to be dead anyways. (His flirting with Nanami when they're alone together not included.) Sometimes queer people want their love with violence because it’s the only way they can have their sexuality without guilt. That punishment absolves the sin.

Jujutsu Society as it stands is not compatible with queerness. Gojo has a really fudged up way of expressing his attraction to men as the result of this. And if you ask me, I think Toji is the one who really got his wires crossed.

[thatgirlstrawberry]

How to Lie to a Behavior Analyst pt. 3

In which Y/N and Spencer decide to go on vacation together… then the unexpected happens

Warnings: Smut scenes, fluff, lying, second hand embarrassment probably, dirty talking, penetrative sex, oral sex(m rec)

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

“What about Miami?” Y/N asked, hanging upside down with half of her body on Spencer’s bed.

He looked at her from the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging from his lips. “Miami’s dangerous. I’m not taking you to Miami.”

She groaned and tossed her phone up on the bed. “I wanna go somewhere with sun! And sand, and really pretty sunsets!”

Spencer nodded, spitting the toothpaste in the sink and washing his mouth out. He walked into the room when he was done and sat next to her. “We can go to Hawaii?” He shrugged.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t even seem like you want to go on a vacation anymore.” She said, sitting up and resting her head on his shoulder.

Spencer shook his head. “No, I do! I just want to make sure you’re happy and if you want to go to Miami, then let’s go, okay?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “But I want you to want to go to Miami! If I want to go to Miami but you don’t want to go to Miami, then what’s the point of going to Miami?” She asked.

“That was way to many Miami’s.” Spencer spoke. Y/N groaned and he pressed a hand to her back and rubbed it. “Look, I will go wherever you want and I’ll be happy about it because I will be with you.” He spoke.

Y/N jutted her bottom lip. “Awww.” She tilted her head. “You’re trying to get your dick sucked aren’t you?”

His eyebrows raised. “I mean, that wasn’t the original motive but I could go for that.” He smiled, leaning in, kissing her slowly. She pulled away and her hands went straight for the zipper of his pants.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

The two of them decided on LA instead of Miami which both of them were happy with. They were staying at a beach house for an entire week.

Y/N was so excited. She walked into the BAU with a smile on her face. She was stopping by to tell her dad that she was leaving town to spend the week at a friend’s house.

He saw her and held his arms open. “Hey, sweetheart. What are you doing here?”

She glanced around, seeing the rest of his coworkers surround them. “I just wanted to stop by and see you all.” She smiled as he kissed her cheek. “And to tell you that I’m going out of town for a week.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Really? Why?” He asked.

Y/N paused for a moment. “I’m going to LA to stay with my friend, Mia. Remember? She was my roommate in college.” She told him.

Rossi nodded. “Ohhh. Okay, make sure you bring your taser and your pepper spray.” She nodded. “Oh! And don’t forget to turn on your location.”

Y/N chuckled. She glanced at Spencer who hadn’t noticed her come in. He was reading something at his desk with the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his lips.

Her boyfriend was so fucking cute.

So anyway, she made a big deal out of a cough to get his attention so he’d look at her and realize she was there. “You okay, kid?” Hotch asked.

She nodded and cleared her throat, inwardly celebrating when Spencer rose from his chair and made his way over to them. He pressed his lips together and nodded at her, sticking his hands in his pockets.

She smiled at him and waved a bit before looking at her father, sighing. “Okay, well. I should get going. I just wanted to see you one last time before I leave for the week.���

Her father nodded and kissed her cheek. “Okay, sweetheart.” He paused. “Uh, I think I’m gonna have Reid take you to the airport. Just to make sure you get there okay.” He looked back at Spencer who looked confused. “Y’know, because you’re going to see your mom in Vegas this week too, right?”

He cleared his throat. “Y-yeah, of course.” He nodded. Emily and JJ nudged each other.

Y/N smiled and bit her lip. “Great! Pick me up from my place tonight?” She looked around, almost gasping when she realized how it sounded. “I’ll send you my address and my flight time.” She added.

Spencer nodding, pursing his lips a bit. “Of course. I’ll see you then.”

It was awkward now. She nodded and looked around. “Okay, well I’ll see you all when I get back.” She turned to her dad. “I’ll text you when I land okay?” She kissed his cheek and they all aid their goodbyes before she left.

As she was leaving, she pulled her phone out with a smirk and texted Spencer.

To: Dick Dealer 💘

Guess who’s getting head on the way to the airportttttttttt

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Spencer watched Y/N try to load her big ass suitcase into the back of his car. It was really heavy because even if she denied it, she also knew that it was true, she was an over packer.

He chuckled and moved forward to help her get it in there. She sighed and giggled saying, “You just keep racking up boyfriend points huh?”

She kissed him and slid out from between his arms and walked to the passenger side of the car, getting in.

A few moments later, Spencer got in the car with a sigh. He leaned his head against the headrest and looked at his girlfriend. “You ready?” He asked.

She was practically glowing with excitement. “Yes, I’m so ready. Like readier than I ever have been.” He chuckled.

“Y’know, since we’re going to a place where no one knows us…” She trailed off. “We could walk around town holding hands, kissing…” She smirked. “We could have loud sex in a bathroom and not have to worry about anyone recognizing us.”

“A public bathroom?” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows.

She clicked her tongue. “Yeah, probably not the best idea. Even though you did just finger me on the counter of one a week ago.” She shrugged.

Spencer sighed. “That’s also true.” She giggled. “Guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” He told her.

She smiled as he started the car and pulled out of his parking space. “For now, I’ll just give you your reward for earning all those boyfriend points.” She whispered, her nails lightly gliding over his thigh. Spencer glanced at her as she pulled her hair back into a low ponytail.

“Oh shit, head two days in a row!?” He smiled excitedly. Her fingers pulled his zipper down and she glanced up at him through her lashes.

Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile and leaned over the armrest, licking her lips. “Focus on the road, babe.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Spencer and Y/N held hands as they rolled their bags into the hotel. It felt weird to be able to hold hands in public and not be worrying about who was watching.

They looked like a married couple. Spencer had sunglasses on and Y/N wore a short white sundress with one of his Hawaiian button ups thrown over her shoulders. It was too hot to be buttoned up so Spencer snuck glances at her boobs every few minutes.

She knew it too.

Anyway, they checked into their room. It was a nice large room with a king sized bed, long frilly blinds that covered the glass doors to the balcony, a bathroom and a big ass TV.

She jumped up and down and squealed, throwing her suitcase down. She ran and jumped onto the bed. Spencer watched her jump on the bed and chuckled.

He walked over to the curtains in front of the balcony doors and pulled them open. He heard Y/N gasp. “Spence! Scratch the bathroom sex, we can have balcony sex!” She squealed.

She ran and jumped into his arms, burying her face in his neck. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

After a long day of sight seeing, Spencer and Y/N returned to their hotel room. “Baby, I told you you need more sunscreen.” Spencer chuckled.

Underneath her eyes and her shoulders were a light shade of red, giving her a permanent blush. It was dark out by now, the stars in the sky shining bright.

Y/N groaned and bit her lip. “I knowwww.” She drew out.

She spun around, closing the door and stalking closer to Spencer who had taken off his shirt to get ready for a shower.

“Spencer…”

He spun around quickly. It was like he was waiting for her to call his name. “Don’t you wanna get a little extra sweaty before you get in the shower? Y’know, put it to good use.”

He nodded and walked forward quickly, grabbing the backs of her thighs and picking her up, set her down on the table behind her. His lips were on hers immediately, tongue breaking past her lips.

Her dress rode up with his hands on her thighs and her hands gripped his bare waist. She moaned into his mouth and her legs wrapped around him. One of his hands made it’s way between her legs, rubbing her clit. He felt the dampness and smiled as he licked into her mouth.

“Mm…” She moaned.

He groaned and pulled away. “I love this dress, on you baby.” He whispered. Her mouth fell open and she kicked her shoes off, licking her lips.

“You wanna keep it on while you fuck me?” She asked, looking up at him, biting her lip.

Spencer shut his eyes, keeping his fingers on her clothed clit and he nodded. “Fuck, yes. I’m gonna take these off though, okay baby?” He snapped the band of her panties against her skin.

She nodded and moaned as he pulled them down her legs and throwing them aside. She swallowed hard as her hands reached for his shorts. She helped him pull them off and she licked her lips when she saw his hard dick pressing against the fabric of his boxers.

She grabbed at him and he chuckled, pulling his boxers down. His dick sprang out and she bit her lip in anticipation. “Please, Spence! Fuck, I need it so bad.” She mumbled.

Spencer lined his dick up with her entrance and grabbed her jaw, making her look at him as he pushed into her. She gasped, her eyes widening.

His eyebrows creased as he shut his eyes an groaned. “You always feel so fuckin’ good baby.” He moaned, his hand was placed on the top of her stomach and his thumb rubbed her clit.

Her lip was caught hard between her teeth as he slowly rocked into her. “Ohhh… fuck Spence.”

His hips snapped slowly and his thumb moved at the same pace. “I’m so glad we’re here baby.” He mumbled. He groaned as she clenched around him.

“Me too, Spence— fuck, me too!” He began to snap his hips faster, going deeper into her. His thumb left her clit and he placed his hand on the side of her face. She sucked his thumb into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it.

“You’re so pretty, baby.” He nodded, his thrust speeding up a bit. He pulled his thumb out of her mouth and went back down to rub her clit.

She whined and moaned for another two minutes. “Fuck, I’m gonna come!” She nodded, her voice high pitched and breathy.

“Me too, you always get me so there.” He groaned as his thrusts got faster.

“Fuck! Spencer—“ Her moms were cut short when an orgasm raked over her body, her thighs squeezing Spencer’s.

She felt him come inside her and her chest heaved. “Fucking shit… oh my god, have we ever had sex on a desk?” She asked, feeling him pull out slowly so he didn’t hurt her.

He shook his head. “Nope. Cuz my other desk is in the BAU and you didn’t wanna get caught getting bent over my desk.” He smirked, kissing her. She kissed back.

“Do we have any ice?” She asked, hopping off of the desk, looking around the room for a bucket.

“The ice machine’s in the hall.” He said. Spencer was always really touchy-feely after sex so he was trying to guide her towards the bed instead of the ice bucket on the bedside table. He also wasn’t done for the night so he was trying to get the sexy little dress off of her.

She giggled as he buried his head into her neck. “Go start your shower, I need ice for my skincare.” She nodded, placing her hands on the arms that were wrapped around her. “I’ll join you when I come back.” She winked, turning her head and kissing him.

He groaned and pulled away from her, walking towards the bathroom. He watched her grab the ice bucket and make her way towards the door.

A few minutes later, he was in the shower.

Five minutes later, he had realized that Y/N wasn’t in the shower with him yet and that was a problem for him and his dick.

So, he got out of the shower, wrapped himself in a towel and walked into the bedroom. “Babe?” He called.

No answer.

He duro his brows and walked towards the hotel room door. It was cracked open. He ran his fingers through his hair and peeked out of the room.

He looked to the right, nothing.

He looked to the left.

There were ice chips spilling out of the black bucket that Y/N had just carried out of the room. His heart plummeted and he ran out into the hallway.

“No.” He whispered.

“Y/N!?” He called out again. “Fuck, no! No! No!”

————————-

Oooooooooooop

Dramaaaaaaaaaaa

Anyways hope you enjoyed this

Thank you tot he people who requested something like this in the comments on the last part I love ya bunches

❤️❤️❤️

[afewproblems]

I just got a tattoo done and was thinking about all of the before and after care instructions they gave me and how older Eddie would have possibly reacted to the list of things he would need to do or items to purchase for a new addition to his sleeve.

The artist reaches out to Eddie years after corroded coffin makes it big. She's fairly well known as a minor celebrity herself in the tattoo and body modification space in LA, so when she contacts Eddie's agent about offering a new piece for his eclectic sleeve he checks out her portfolio and is immediately sold.

She sends him the idea and he signs off on it right away and before they know it, he and Steve are on a plane from Chicago to Los Angeles.

It isn't until it's done, and the second skin is placed over the piece, smoothed out to ensure no bubbling, that Eddie balks at the secondary list of steps he needs to take.

The artist taps out the instruction email on her phone, hitting send with a dimpled grin before reaching out to shake his hand and Steve's, thanking them for being such great new clients. She asks Steve if he would be interested in a piece at some point, to which he smiles politely and shakes his head.

Steve has never been into tattoos for himself, though he's always gone to great lengths to admire and kiss each piece on Eddie's body.

Eddie half listens as they continue to chat, pulling out his phone to review the email she sent him.

"Ensure that you leave the second skin on for three to five days and upon its removal (see removal instructions on page two)..."

Eddie has to stop himself from rolling his eyes right then and there. It's not as though this is his first ever tattoo, he's been getting ink since before this girl was even born.

He winces at the thought, reminding himself that just because she's young doesn't mean she doesn't know her shit, and she clearly does. He shakes his head and nods when Steve says goodbye for them and they make their way to the elevator.

"Okay, what's with the face?" Steve asks quietly as soon as the door closes.

Eddie sighs and folds his arms over his chest, careful not to bump the now tender area on his forearm.

"You look like you swallowed a lemon, spill," he reaches out for Eddie's shoulder, his warm hazel eyes, now lined with gentle wrinkles at the edges search his face, "do you not like it?"

Eddie barks out a laugh, "it's probably one of the nicest ones in the whole collection, no Stevie, it's not that".

Steve raises his eyebrow now and just looks at Eddie until the elevator dings and the doors open before them.

God Dammit.

He loves and hates this ability, that Steve knows Eddie will crack eventually if he just waits long enough.

"Fine!" Eddie sighs as they make their way back to the hotel.

It's gorgeous out, nothing like the weather back home right now, the palm trees lining the streets and the twinkling fairy lights on every corner gives the area an almost magical feel, despite the bustling pedestrians packing the sidewalks.

"It's a little weird all the instructions," Eddie says eventually. He speaks slowly, doing his best to articulate exactly what he feels.

Steve nods, though the confused pinch between his brow doesn't quite fade.

"And I've been getting these done since it eighties, Steve, it's just a little--"

Eddie growls and tugs on his hair in frustration, "I don't want to be shitty".

Steve shrugs and loops his arm around Eddie's small waist, tugging him closer.

"Be shitty, you know I love it," he grins and lifts his free hand to remove Eddie's from his hair, "what about the instructions made you upset?"

"It's like I'm being talked down to," Eddie says with a frown, "I got a stick and poke from Jeff in '84 that was totally fine with out any of this," he lifts his arm now to show off the shiny second skin to Steve who nods.

"And which one was that again?" Steve asks, there's a leading lilt to his voice that makes Eddie want to sit on the sidewalk.

He huffs out a low whine, "Steve--"

"Eddie," Steve answers with a soft smile.

And Eddie knows he's lost this argument, if you could even call it that, because the bats that Jeff did for him all the way back in '84, have since been covered up.

Over the years they had morphed into six blobs of bluish grey on the back of his forearm that could no longer be distinguishable as bats, and after being asked about his 'abstract' tattoos by an interviewer a few years back, he had made the decision to get them covered.

And it could have been any number of things that lead to the eventual fading and blobification of his bats, but Eddie figured it was probably because they had almost immediately gotten infected a few days after Jeff had finished them in his parents garage.

Eddie clears his throat and opens the email on his phone again, taking another look at the list the artist had sent him.

"Fine, you gonna help me take care of this thing Stevie?" Eddie grumbles as they enter the revolving door of the hotel, stepping carefully into the pie shaped section to avoid colliding with the moving entryway.

Steve snorts and lets his hand curl through one of the belt loops on Eddie's jeans, "I think I remember agreeing to something like that, in sickness and health?"

He leans forward and nuzzels his nose into Eddie's ear, "till the end of our days".

[asherraccoon]

Storm- RadioApple oneshot

(I am such a sucker for soft Radioapple omg)

(It was raining while I wrote this lmao)

Thunder erupted from outside. The rain thudded against the windows and roof. Wind howled. Lightning flashed brightly. It was storming. 

Charlie stared out the window, watching the rain as it pounded against the pavement outside. Vaggie was seated beside her. 

“Charlie, shouldn't you go check on your dad?” Vaggie asked as her eye flickered between the pavement and the lightning. 

“I don't want him to get even more stressed by having someone try to talk to him. He gets pretty bad during storms,” Charlie replied, leaning against the wall. 

Alastor appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. “What do you mean, my dear?” He asked curiously.

“AH-! JEEZ! Hi, Alastor,” Charlie sighed in relief.

“I'm telling you, Charlie, he needs a bell,” Vaggie said, rolling her eye. 

“Dad hates thunderstorms,” Charlie said to Alastor, looking back out the window. “I don't want to tell you too much about it since it's pretty personal to him, but he gets pretty freaked out when they happen,” she explained. “I wouldn't want to- oh, and he's gone,” Charlie's expression fell into an annoyed one when she turned to see Alastor was already gone. 

“He needs a bell,” Vaggie repeated. 

____________________________

Alastor entered Lucifer's room and closed the door behind him. “Lucifer?” He spoke, his eyes searching the room. It seemed empty. 

There was a loud clap of thunder and a squeak that followed it. 

Alastor looked in the direction of the squeak and saw the black and red feathered arrow-shaped tip of Lucifer's tail sticking out from under the bed. His eyes softened and he walked over. He sat down on the floor and leaned against the bed. “Lucifer,” he said softly. 

Lucifer's tail flicked, then went under the bed. A few seconds later, Lucifer's head poked out from underneath. “Ba-Bambi?” he mumbled, trembling with fear. He squealed and whimpered, ducking back under the bed as another boom of thunder happened. 

“Lucifer, sweetheart,” Alastor sighed. He lay down on his back next to the bed. He turned his head to look at Lucifer under the bed. 

Lucifer had his eyes shut, hands over his ears, and his wings curled around himself. “No more booms… no more booms…”  he whispered. He hated the loud noises so much.

Alastor extended his hand out to Lucifer. “It's okay, dear,” he said gently. “It's only thunder, it can't hurt you,” 

Lucifer hesitantly grabbed Alastor's hand, squeezing it. 

Alastor squeezed back. 

Lucifer yelped and pulled his hand back and covered his ears again when there was another loud thunder roar. He had tears in his eyes and couldn't stop shaking. He just wanted it to stop. 

Alastor hummed. “Do you want hugs?” Alastor asked him.

Lucifer nodded. 

“You gotta come out first,” Alastor told him. 

Lucifer shook his head. “Scary,” he whimpered. 

“I know it sounds scary right now,” Alastor said. “But it's only thunder. It's just a storm. I promise you're safe,” He smiled softly at Lucifer. 

Lucifer slowly pulled himself forwards towards Alastor.

Alastor sat up to let Lucifer out. “That's it. See?” Alastor encouraged. “It's safe here,” 

Thunder erupted.

Lucifer froze in place, letting out a yelp and a sob. 

“It's okay,” Alastor said softly. “You're almost out,” he spoke softly yet encouragingly. 

Lucifer crawled more out until he was halfway out from under the bed. When he heard another rumble he used his wings to push himself forward into Alastor's arms, crashing into his chest and on his lap. He clung onto Alastor tightly, letting out quiet sobs into his shoulder. 

Alastor was surprised by the angel suddenly crashing into him. “Whoa!” He let out a small laugh. He put his arms around Lucifer and stood up, picking up Lucifer with him as he did so.

Lucifer let out a small whine as he was picked up. He clung onto Alastor tighter. He never needed Alastor's warmth and comfort more than he did now. 

Alastor sat down on the bed, letting Lucifer sit on his lap and cry into his shoulder. He gently rubbed the bases of Lucifer's wings, playing with the feathers. “You're safe with me, mon ange,” he said affectionately.

Lucifer sniffled and snuggled close to Alastor. “Mmm.. Bambi…” he mumbled quietly. 

“Yes, Lu?” Alastor asked. 

Lucifer hugged Alastor tighter when there was another crash of thunder. “B-Bambi…” He whimpered. 

“Shhhh, it's okay. Bambi's here. I'm right here,” he said, his hand moving from Lucifer's back to his hair and playing with it. 

Lucifer wrapped his tail around Alastor's leg. He fluttered his wings before curling them around the two of them, making their hug even closer and tighter. 

Alastor gently scratched Lucifer's head. He hummed. A song started playing, sounding like it was coming directly from Alastor, though his mouth didn't move. After a moment, he began to sing along with the music. 

Days seem sometimes as if they'll never end. Sun digs its heels to taunt you. But after sunlit days, one thing stays the same; rises the moon~

Lucifer looked up at Alastor when he began to sing. The music had taken him by surprise, but he didn't complain or ask about it. He leaned into him, his head going directly under Alastor's chin. He tried to focus on Alastor's voice and not the rumbling thunder outside. 

Alastor continued his lullaby as he felt Lucifer nuzzle and snuggle into him. 

Oh~  close your weary eyes. I promise you that soon the autumn comes to darken fading summer skies. Breathe, breathe, breathe~

The lullaby seemed to do its job. After a few more moments of Alastor singing, Lucifer was calm and relaxed. No longer trembling or reacting to the sounds of thunder outside. He was fully focused on Alastor and his voice. His horns had shrunk and his tail was relaxed around Alastor's leg.

Days pull you up just like a daffodil, uprooted from its garden. They'll tell you what you owe, but know even so, rises the moon~

You'll be visited by sleep~ I promise you that soon the autumn comes to steal away each dream you keep.

Lucifer's eyes fell heavy as Alastor's lullaby came to an end. His horns and tail disappeared. His wings fell loose around the two of them. 

 Breathe, breathe, breathe~

His wings disappeared and Lucifer fell silent and motionless, aside from his breathing of course. 

Alastor smiled as the music came to a stop with a click. He gently pet Lucifer's hair. “Sleep well, my king,” Alastor said softly as he pulled a blanket up over the both of them and closed his eyes.

The rain continued to patter against the windows outside, although now it felt much more calm, and the thunder wasn't nearly as scary anymore. 

[nadas-dirthalen]

I Saw Solas's Origin in an Achievement Icon and It Opened My Eyes on 15 Years of Lore

— PART TWO: if you haven't read previous parts, do it now! —

[ 1 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ]

Welcome, friends and travelers! I wanted to get some thoughts recorded before Veilguard's release so I could see if I am right about an absolute BOATLOAD of theories I have.

In short: I saw the achievement list when it was released. I have seen the backstory hints for Solas included in said list. AND MY MIND WAS BLOWN.

You have been warned: THIS COLLECTION OF THEORIES INCLUDES SPOILERS FOR EVERY DRAGON AGE GAME AND ALL PROMOTIONAL MATERIAL UP TO AND INCLUDING OCTOBER 18, 2024.

Come sit down with me. Make a nice cup of tea (and hide it from Solas). We've got a lot of unpacking to do.

(this photo isn't the spoiler, I just like it.)

Today's Docket: (Almost) Every Hint the Elvhen Language Gave Us Along the Way

Today we will be reviewing:

The Lullaby from the Deep Roads in Trespasser

Elven phrase: Ar dirthan'as ir elgara, ma sula e'var vhenan.

Lullaby: "Suledin (Endure)"

A breakdown of the word Suledin

Lullaby: "Where Willows Wail"

Song: "I Am the One"

Decoding the word (Indecipherable) from the Temple of Solasan

The Lullaby from the Deep Roads in Trespasser

I wish I'd posted here this summer, but finding this lullaby during a Trespasser replay and actually going out of my way to translate it was the first inkling I had that Solas might be Titan-wrought.

We know that Mythal mined Titans. But this lullaby is the first concrete indication that I had that she made Solas from lyrium, too.

For our purposes, I am not pasting the incorrect translation given by the codex. Just the elvish.

Ir sa tel'nal, Mythal las ma theneras. Ir san'a emma. Him solas evanuris. Da'durgen'lin, Banal malas elgara. Bellanaris, bellanaris.

It took me a long time to translate, and there are some parts I'm not even sure that I have correct. But they came together for me once I saw Solas's achievement icon, and I will explain some of the new pieces later on in this post.

Since the dwarven word for lyrium is Isana, I am making the guess that Ir san'a translates the same way.

I am one, not [nal] [anymore] Mythal gives me dreams Lyrium within Becomes Solas evanuris Little stone boy Never grants me elgara (the Domain, the Titan—more on that soon) Forever, forever

Da'durgen'lin has been ringing in my mind for months. Plural months. Seeing the achievement icon, that was the first word that came to me. Mythal's da'durgen'lin — her little stone boy.

He was once a part of more than one, and now is alone. Just one. Mythal gave him dreams—dreams that called him. He became Solas, evanuris. Little stone boy.

And now, he will never be of elgara, a spirit of the Titan, ever ever again.

Forever, forever.

"Ar dirthan'as ir elgara, ma sula e'var vhenan" — What does e'var mean, and what in the world does it have to do with Sera?

Second big "Solas might be Titan-related???" thought this summer: hearing Vows & Vengeance episode 1 and hearing a phrase that had eaten my brain since I first heard it used. Ar dirthan'as ir elgara, ma sula e'var vhenan. Something Solas says, a little flippantly, to Sera—and something he sighs at, when she does not understand it.

But in V&V, when he says it to the Eye of Kethisca, its lyrium song... quiets.

So what does it mean? Well, some of the words had poked at me for a while. But with the achievement icon, I believe I understand them, when I think about their Titan implications.

Ar dirthan'as ir elgara, ma sula e'var vhenan.

Ar: The elvish page on the DA wiki says this is the word for "I" or "me." We're sticking with that.

dirthan'as: This one gave me pause. We know dirth as "knowledge" or "wisdom," but also as "tell" or "speak." To understand it, I looked at the suffixes, the TWO suffixes. The "--an" suffix we recognize mostly from place names (vir abelasan, Solasan). But the "--as" suffix? I recognize i from "vhenas:" "home". So for this one, I am taking "place-home" to mean "domain." Domain of wisdom.

ir: Wiki says "I am," and I'm sticking with that.

elgara: We know "elgar" is elvish for spirit. But why the extra A? It puzzled me, until I realized Solas's Titan connection. I think the extra A comes from lyrium spirit. (And from the previous song, I think elgara is referring to that connection back to the lyrium, Solas's place in the Titan's choir.)

ma sula: In Elvish, the placement of the "ma" determines the subject/object of the sentence. When you see "ma" before a verb, it means, "you do the verb." Since "sula" is likely "sing," this means, "you sing" — or, "sing to me."

e'var: THIS one blew my brain wide open. "Var," we know from the Wiki, is "our." But why the E? Well, think about "Our" in the context of a Titan. Who is our? This refers to the Many.

vhenan: Heart. We know that one.

Taken together?

Ar dirthanas ir elgara, ma sula e'var vhenan. I am a lyrium spirit of the [Titan/Domain] of Wisdom, sing to me in the song of All Our heart.

Think about Sera. Think about small painted boxes, and go watch one of the many theory videos equating Sera with Andruil. Think about why Solas might have been trying to speak to her with those words, in the same way he spoke to the Eye of Kethisca.

Then hope for a Sera cameo in Veilguard. Cross your fingers and light your candles with me.

"Suledin (Endure)"

This is another one of those ones where I won't be posting the (incorrect) translation. My translation here is spotty, with a lot of my guesses or unknowns going into [these brackets]. But even with many guesses, I think this says enough to let us know one thing: this is about Solas, and possibly even written by him.

Melava inan enansal ir su aravel tu elvaral u na emma abelas in elgar sa vir mana in tu setheneran din emma na lath sulevin lath araval ena arla ven tu vir mahvir melana ‘nehn enasal ir sa lethalin

Time was once a blessing I am a song-journey [with no way forward] Eternal are sorrows within In spirit, no longer "we" The land of waking dreams no longer exists Love is purpose Love is the journey of [joy/victory/blessing] A way out of the trap between [my speech and the Many] Time of singing again Triumph over loss, lyrium elvhen man

Ask me, one day, how all these mentions of Love might relate to Lucanis. To Spite. To the climax of Veilguard itself.

I hope I'm right.

A quick breakdown of the word Suledin...

It is very possible that it is, in fact, three words made into one. Sul • e • din.

Sul: possibly shortform for Sing

e: possibly referring to the Many, as in e'var

din: end, or the dead.

Suledin: Sing our dead. As in, go on living, remembering the lost. Go on being, breathing, and carrying the memory of the forgotten. Not strictly endure, but outlive.

Var lath vir suledin, then, might mean: our love will outlive this.

Crying yet?

(Banter source: Varric/Solas after the first memory in the Jaws of Hakkon DLC.)

Lullaby: "Where Willows Wail"

Tel’enara bellana bana’vhenadahl, Sethen’a ir san’shiral, mala tel’halani Ir sa’vir te’suledin var bana’vallaslin, Vora’nadas san banal’him emma abel revas. Ir tela’ena glandival, vir amin tel’hanin. Ir tela las ir Fen halam, vir am’tela’elvahen.

My translation:

Nothing is eternal, the tree of the People is forever [ruined/blighted] I walk the path here in the land of waking dreams, I give you no help I am [one of The All], [but I cannot endure because of] our [bad/ruined/blighted] vallaslin [Vora] inevitable [here] becomes nothing within the sorrow of freedom I am not [good/holy] [belief], the path the one of no glory. I did not give myself the name Wolf, we [are not called the elvahen.]

I'll let you cry with me. Solas is alone. He can't help you. He is stuck.

The tree of the People... might be the branches of the We. The lyrium, connecting him to the Titan. The blood of the We that makes up all that Solas is.

It is forever ruined. He is cut off. He is one of the All, but he has no ability to find strength in that pain, because of the vallaslin—the one he burned off his face, leaving a scar.

Y'know. The vallaslin in the shape of lyrium branches. The ones in the shape of his body. The ones that so many of us were wearing for 10 long years.

The sorrow of freedom.

Let that ring in your mind, as I have.

"I Am the One" — and now, we're beginning understand the Forgotten Ones, aren't we?

No translation needed. Let me bold what I want to focus on.

I feel sun Through the ashes in the sky. Where's the one Who'll guide us into the night? What's begun Is the war that will Force this divide. What's to come Is fire and the end of time. I am the one Who can recount What we've lost. I am the one Who will live on. I have run Through the fields Of pain and sighs. I have fought To see the other side. I am the one Who can recount What we've lost. I am the one Who will live on.

Solas is the one who can remember what was lost. Cool, elvhen empire, right?

But he says I have fought to see the other side. This song crops up in Origins. Why would it say that, when Solas hadn't actually physically been back to the Fade by then?

Because that's the wrong other side. The original other side was any life outside of his Titan.

The divide isn't between us and the Fade. It's between the Fade/Evanuris and the Titans of the real/waking world.

And with all Titans being forgotten, with them forgetting how to wake up... isn't it peculiar that Solas is the sole one who can remember?

What does it mean, then, that Solas is the one who will live on?

And was any of this why the elven version of this song was what they used for Solas ans Elio's chanting in Vows & Vengeance episode 1? Because something about that song prompted them to use it, even though the elvish is not BioWare canon because it was written by someone else.

For whatever reason, they wanted us to know Solas was singing these lyrics. That this was his message, when dealing with a lyrium orb.

Trust me, I'm still going. If "Titans = Forgotten Ones" isn't clicking yet, it will by the time I'm through with these posts.

The (Indecipherable) from the Temple of Solasan Codex tells us everything we need to know. But what does it mean?

This one's long, but I'll break down this codex bit by bit.

Faintly carved into the stone is a figurebound in chains. Two other figures haveturned their gaze from the central image.The script below the image is ancient,though Solas is able to provide a partialtranslation: Pride in our accomplishments and in our hearts. That same pride became (a word meaning corrupted or altered) within him, he sought to claim (indecipherable), cast from favor and so he was bound. Hidden from mortal eyes, death lies within.

Here goes.

Faintly carved into the stone is a figure bound in chains. Two other figures have turned their gaze from the central image.

I believe this means: two worlds that don't accept Solas as their own. Or, the "We" that turned away from him.

The script below the image is ancient,though Solas is able to provide a partialtranslation: Pride in our accomplishments and in our hearts

The use of our here is insane. Because I don't think it's our in the regular way, I think it's Our in the capitalized way. If I were to translate back to Elvish, I'd write it like: Solas in e'var enasalin la e'var vhenan.

I think it meant to say: the Titans harbored pride. Pride in themselves and the We; but Pride that turned their focus away from the We.

Ambition.

That same pride became (a word meaning corrupted or altered) within him,

That same pride was preyed upon and altered. By whom? Well, who filled him with dreams?

(This needs a LOT OF CONTEXT from the Blackened Hearts memory in DA:tv, Memory #3, before I can definitively say more!)

he sought to claim (indecipherable), cast from favor and so he was bound.

Ah, (indecipherable). He sought to claim a new life. He sought to claim love. He sought to claim independence. And the Stone struck him out of it. Separated him. Cut him off from the whole like a rotting limb. And so... he was bound, because he was untethered. Mythal bound him to her, and (probably) made his vallaslin in the shape of the body he'd just had. (Lemme cry about that a whole other time oh my god)

Hidden from mortal eyes, death lies within.

BECAUSE THE WORLD FORGOT THE TITANS.

The Titans are hidden from mortal eyes. The TItans are starting to exhibit their blighted selves with the emergence of red lyrium.

The Titans, perhaps, are doomed — unless Solas fixes them by tearing down the Veil? Unless the lyrium that grows in the Fade is also needed by the Titans in the waking world?

ANYWAY: if you're still here reading, thank you. Truly. I'm hoping Part 3 will come soon, but I truly don't know yet! Busy week, chronic pain, etc.

Next up: The Titans' Magic and Lyrium.

[renecdote]

wedding bells

honestly I wasn't planning to post this because I thought it was too silly but @nymika-arts said I should so. if you like it you can thank her <3

[Read on AO3]

Buck’s feet are up on the coffee table, his head tipped back against the couch, eyes closed but not sleeping when Eddie sits beside him, mentally apologising to Hen and Bobby as he puts his own feet up on the coffee table and makes himself comfortable. The cushions bounce a little, tipping them towards each other, and Buck grunts at being displaced, then tips himself fully against Eddie’s side. It’s late. They should both be in the bunks trying to get some sleep like everyone else, but Eddie came upstairs for a glass of water and found the glow of the TV and his best friend on the couch instead, a lure impossible to resist.

“What are you watching?” he asks. The scene that is playing out is vaguely familiar but not enough that he can recall the name of the movie or even the actors starring in it.

Buck opens his eyes, head lifting just slightly to squint at the TV. “Um, something about wedding dresses? I don’t know, it was already on when I got here.”

They watch in silence for a few minutes, TV light playing across their faces, but soon Buck’s eyes are closed again, his head back on Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie tips his own head back against the couch, too tired to figure out the movie’s plot when it’s already halfway through. Girl meets guy, falls in love with guy, denies that she’s in love with guy, guy wins her over in the end. Something like that, probably. Everyone lives happily ever after.

The background noise of the movie and the warm weight of his best friend against his side is lulling Eddie towards a nap when Buck breaks the silence.

“Do you want to get married?”

“Sure,” Eddie answers sleepily. “Fall wedding?”

“What?” Buck frowns, and Eddie realises: oh, he meant do I want to get married generally not to him specifically. Then Buck is asking, “Why fall?”

Eddie waves a hand: why not? “The leaves are pretty.”

“The leaves—” Buck stops, shaking his head. “We live in LA, Eddie, we’re not exactly swimming in fall vibes.”

Vibes, Eddie mouthes at the ceiling. He blames Ravi and whatever influence he’s had on Buck’s vocabulary. Then he stops, thinks about it some more, and mentally apologises to Ravi for blaming him. He’s pretty sure Bobby is the one who brought vibes into the firehouse.

“Fall has good weather too,” he says. It was summer when he married Shannon and a low pressure system brought down biting, heavy rain that soaked them through as soon as they stepped outside the church. “Not too hot, not too cold, less chance of rain…”

“Doesn’t that happen in a movie?”

Eddie’s turn to frown. “What?”

“There’s a movie where it rains during the wedding,” Buck says. “I can’t remember if it’s supposed to be a good sign or bad sign, though.”

“I think it’s just a sign that it’s raining.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “In the movie, Eds. Like a sign that she’s marrying the right guy or the wrong guy, you know?”

Eddie thinks about fat drops of rain smacking him in the face, his hair sticking limply to his forehead, Shannon shivering against his side, not noticing or not caring as the hem of her wedding dress turns black from the mud.

He thinks about Shannon, pregnant, and the way it felt like a sign. The way it felt like a sign the second time too, but was just the universe mocking him for believing in something like signs.

“I think Hollywood makes rain seem a lot more romantic than it actually is,” he says, shrugging the melancholy away.

“Yeah,” Buck agrees, something distant in his eyes like he’s remembering some awkward relationship moment of his own in the rain. “And snow. It’s like they forget how cold and unpleasant it gets.”

He shivers as he says it, some phantom memory attached to that too. Eddie thinks about asking, but Buck’s past is a patchwork of old bruises and anything he doesn’t willingly share is usually one he doesn’t want poked at. If they were at home, on the couch or in the kitchen, nursing a six pack between them—maybe then Eddie would poke anyway, ready to soothe any hurt it uncovered. Now he just nudges Buck with his elbow and says, “So, fall wedding. No rain, no snow, we won’t sweat through our tuxes before we get to the end of the aisle.”

He catches it a beat too late—we—and braces himself for rejection, for laughing it off, for fumbling through an explanation. His heart is torn, hoping Buck will think he just meant they’d both be in tuxes and walking down the aisle because he’d be Eddie’s best man, and half dreading that that’s all Buck will think when he pictures them at the altar together.

Except—

“We could have a destination wedding,” Buck suggests, his fingers idly pulling a loose thread on one of Eddie’s buttons. Eddie swats his hand away before he can unravel it completely.

“Destination weddings are expensive,” he counters. “We should just get married at the courthouse and save all our money for the honeymoon.”

Buck snorts. “You want to pull a Bobby?”

“I didn’t say we wouldn’t invite anyone.”

He wants to say all I need is you, me and Chris but everything this conversation has become already feels too dangerous. Too close to serious. They’ve always been good at blurring the line between friends and whatever else they could be, but this feels too blurry even for them. Eddie wonders if he should pinch himself, just to make sure he isn’t dreaming.

“And we’ll have a party too,” Buck adds. “Do you think Hen’s cake guy could do a wedding cake?”

“I think Hen’s cake guy can do anything,” Eddie replies, his mouth somehow still working while his brain is spinning, spinning, spinning. He doesn’t remember a lot of the time he spent under the influence of the LSD brownies, but he’s pretty sure it would have felt like this: everything heightened, one step to the side of reality, this unrelenting gravitational pull towards Buck even back then.

“I don’t know what everyone complains about,” Buck says, head tipped back to smile at him. “Wedding planning isn’t so hard.”

Eddie smiles back, like it’s just another inside joke between them. Like this conversation isn’t happening in the middle of a bubble, thin and wobbly and liable to pop at any moment. He wants to say you make everything easy but the edges of the words are too sharp, too real, and he’s not ready for the bubble to pop just yet. He wants to enjoy it, even though he knows it can’t last.

The music in the movie swells as the girl finally gets her Big Damn Kiss and the start of her happily ever after. Buck smiles twists into something wistful as he turns back to the screen and Eddie wants to hold him tighter, but he’s not even holding Buck so it doesn’t make sense.

“I miss kissing,” Buck tells him, quiet enough that it feels like a confession. “Not—I mean, I like sex too, obviously, but kissing just for the sake of kissing, you know?”

It’s late. Everyone else is asleep downstairs. The glow of the TV and the dim yellow light left on above the stove make the shadows feel deeper around them, the night fuzzy around the edges. The movie’s final scene is rolling into the credits, another love song playing quietly through the loft. Their bubble hasn’t popped yet.

Maybe it’s all of those things, or none of those things, that makes Eddie say, “I could kiss you.”

Buck goes still.

Eddie wonders if he could bite clean through his tongue so he can never speak again. Human teeth are crazy strong so it’s definitely possible, right?

Buck would know if it’s possible, he thinks, and then he really does have to bite his tongue so he doesn’t laugh hysterically. God, why did he say that? Just because he was thinking about kissing Buck—has been thinking about it for months going on years—doesn’t mean he should have said it. He’s halfway to an apology—an excuse, maybe, some way to laugh it off as practice for their hypothetical trip down the aisle—when Buck sits up, pulling Eddie upright with him.

“Okay,” he says. “Show me what you’ve got, Diaz.”

His grin is all bravado, but Eddie knows him well enough to see the nervousness at the edges. It soothes him, somehow, knowing Buck is nervous too. Not that this isn’t still a completely stupid idea, the kind of idea that they can never come back from and will probably regret in about two minutes, but—

He cradles the back of Buck’s head, holding him steady while Eddie tilts his own head to fit their lips together. Gentle at first, growing bolder when Buck’s hands curl in the front of his shirt to pull him closer, tongue running along the seam of his lips until they open to welcome Eddie inside. Buck tastes like coffee, a little bit sweet like the vanilla syrup he keeps hidden away at the back of the cupboard in the kitchen. His breath is warm against Eddie’s chin when they break apart just long enough to breathe, lips lingering together, noses bumping, one kiss made up of a dozen smaller kisses.

Eddie pulls away first, forehead resting against Buck’s just for a moment before he drops his hand from the back of Buck’s neck and makes himself sit back. His hands are shaking, he thinks, and he doesn’t know if it’s fear or desire.

“Oh,” Buck murmurs, reaching up to touch his lips, an absent kind of movement like he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

Eddie swallows, the taste of Buck still on his tongue. He should—say something, do something, probably not lean in and kiss his best friend again (and again and again).

They both jump when the bell rings.

“Eddie—” Buck starts, but there’s no time. Eddie’s fingers are tingling, his heart stuttering in his chest, but his feet are already moving, muscle memory carrying him while his brain buffers trying to catch up.

“We have to go,” he says, and he’s as grateful as he is irritated by the interruption of the alarm.

“Eddie,” Buck says again, catching his hand to halt him before he can climb into the engine. They’ve got seconds before Bobby sticks his head out the window to ask them what the hold up is, but it only takes a handful of seconds to say, “October.”

“What?”

Buck smiles, “Let’s get married in October.”

He ducks in close enough to kiss Eddie on the corner of the mouth, quick and lop-sided, and then he’s climbing into the engine with a bounce in his step, and—

Oh, Eddie realises, he did mean he wants to marry me specifically.

(“Soo.” Chimney draws the word out awkwardly, looking around at everyone crammed into the engine together. “We all saw that, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Hen answers, her eyebrows raised above her glasses. “We definitely all saw that.”

Eddie just shrugs, his knee pressing against Buck’s thigh, their eyes catching and holding, unable to help smiling at each other while everyone else looks on. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

There’s a round of “uh huh”s and “sure you don’t”s and a half-muttered “at least I’m not finding out about this one four months later” from Bobby.

“By the way,” Buck adds when it’s quiet again, “you’re all invited the wedding.”

They’re still smiling at each other like lovesick fools when the engine explodes into a cacophony of exclamations around them.)

[didishawn]

Preparation (Pedri x Reader) smut

Warnings: Pedri makes you ride a dildo to take your worries away from how big he is, some Spanish

Someone asked for Pedri size kink and I accidentally deleted it

Masterlist

Look, Pedri might not be the tallest guy out there, the problem is that his girlfriend- you, is fucking tiny and his cock is way too big to take.

It makes him a bit cheeky, really, that one time you were practically crying and begging him to let you suck his cock, only to go wide eyed and face blank when you saw it, so fucking thick and long -you played dumb, as if you had forgotten what was about to go down, only put him back in his boxers, turned around and went to bed, leaving him with blue balls but with a sense of pride.

But as time passes, he doesn't find your worry for his size funny anymore, tired of his hands being the only ones to get him off, as everytime your hand wraps around his cock, it's only for a few moments before you become terrified again at the realisation your fingers don't even meet while around him.

So your boyfriend starts coming up with a plan, as he isn't sure how many more blue balls he can go through before dying because of being unable of having his cock inside you. One day, he makes what he deems the perfect purchase, calling you over once the package arrives, telling you he has found the solution to the big problem in your relationship.

"¿Es en serio?" you ask him, raised eyebrow as you see the toy in his hands. (are you for real?)

He holds a bright yellow dildo, and while you might not have spent a lot of time watching his cock, you are sure the sizes must be similar.

He excitedly nods, looking so proud of himself "Obvio que si. Mira, tú y yo no vamos más allá porque según tú soy muy grande, algo que no comparto pero bueno" (of course. Look, you and I don't go further because you believe me to be too big, something I don't share but alright)

"Pedri, eres gigante" (Pedri, you are huge)

"Gracias amor, pero el punto es que este es literalmente de mi tamaño, diseñado para ser una réplica casi exacta de mi polla, la única diferencia es que tú vas a montarla y controlar todo, así hasta que te acostumbres y podamos hacerlo de verdad" (thanks love, but my point is that this one is literally my size, designed to be an almost exact same replica of my cock, the one difference is that you are going to ride it and control everything, like this until you get used to it and we can actually do it)

He looks at you expectant and you think it over for a moment "Si que parece ser una buena idea" (it does sound like a good idea)

That makes him grin, he approaches a random plastic chair that definitely was not there before, placing the plastic cock to stand tall in it "Mira, se pega a la silla y todo. Ahora quítate la ropa amor, déjame ver tu preciosidad mientras montas la polla" (look, it sticks to the chair and all. Now take your clothes off love, let me see how pretty you are while you ride the dick)

You are a teasing minx as you strip, completely naked as he sits in a sofa in front of your chair, taking his pants and shirt off, hand around himself as he watches you take the lube to cover the dildo.

You are in your knees above the dick, it's tip poking your entrance as you hover it, teasing your entrance, you take in the tip, already makes you full, full on moaning as you pinch your nipples.

"Lo estás haciendo muy bien, amor" he calls out, enjoying the rosy of your cheeks and the slight tremble of your thighs. (you are doing really good, love)

You continue going down, taking the cock so good, your walls opening around it.

"Mirate, tan pequeña y recibiendo tan bien una polla demasiado grande para ti, que linda que eres" (look at you, so tiny and taking so good a cock that is way too big for you, you are so pretty)

It has bottomed up, all of it inside you, making you want to cum already, you refuse, wanting to enjoy more of the feeling, wanting to prepare to take the true one. You plant your feel on the chair, legs opening to let Pedri see how good you are taking the cock and the throbing of your clit.

You struggle to go up and down, your mind already too hazy and body tired, you are so full, body trembling, everything feels amazing, but you need more, he knows it too.

Cock still in hand, eyes fixated on your pretty little pussy taking the big, bad toy, he walks towards you, leaving you face to face with his enormous dick.

You take your time examining him, the black patch of hair decorating him, his abs, the happy trail and v line, his balls look so heavy, so full, veins looking about to explode, it's red, looks so hard, you can't help but lean over, kitten licking a vein, his hands burying tightly into your hair and loudly groaning out, head pushed back.

You look so small next to his cock, he hits your cheek with it twice, moaning when you try to wrap your lips around the tip, the vibrations of your moans feel heavenly.

One hand controls the movements of your mouth -only his tip fits, he makes a note to also prepare you to deep throat him, his other hand is on your shoulder, moving you up and down on the cock, rougher and faster that you had been, entire body squirming and trembling until he looks down to see you squirting, juices pushing the sad plastic out, the sight is enough to push him too over the edge, rapidly struggling to paint your face white.

"Lo hiciste muy bien amor, mi pequeña chica dejándose follar por dos pollas demasiado grandes para ella" (you did great, love, my little girl letting herself be fucked by two cocks way too big for her)

[jebewonmorelike]

Good Luck, Mickey!

wc: 1k warnings: a pretty flirtatious little joke made by ricky... do you need to be warned of that? maybe if you have a weak heart. otherwise very very light angst and fluff. pronouns: none used; n/a summary: planetmaster/idol!reader and their boyfriend ricky have to pretend they don't know each other while the cameras are on ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ this was a request! it's short and sweet but fun. i might want to expand more on this one eventually. spending tonight rewatching bp after work :,)

Positioning yourself in the wing of the stage strategically, you lean forward just a bit so you can take a look from behind the curtain at the crowd of unsuspecting trainees lined up after completing their second mission.

You spot a head of perfectly styled blonde hair sticking out from the group almost immediately due to the height of its owner. Smiling to yourself, you hop up and down a bit to pump yourself up. You can't wait to see the look on your boyfriend's face when you step out onto the stage.

The lights dim quickly, then flash dramatically back on as a producer gives you the go ahead. You nod respectfully and steady yourself as you begin to make your way out from behind the curtain and to the center of the stage. The boys gathered in front of you in neat formations begin to scramble excitedly; shouting and jumping with enthusiasm as you step towards the front of the stage.

Your eyes find Ricky, who is standing completely still as he stares up at you in shock-- not knowing how to react properly to your presence. Some of his teammates are poking him and laughing, teasing him about your unexpected appearance as a Planet Master.

You had met Ricky a while ago when he joined your company as a trainee. You would run into each other in the hallways at night, as you were always in a practice room trying to improve even after your debut. He could be uncharacteristically shy around you, since you were his senior (and he was secretly such a big fan). Needless to say, Ricky was incredibly surprised when you were the one who eventually asked him out.

"Hello Boys Planet trainees! I'm leader and main vocalist (Y/N) from Virtual Reality," you announce confidently. "I know you've only just finished your Second Mission, but time is limited when you're forming the next big K-Pop boy group!"

Most of the trainees begin another uproar, some complaining that they're exhausted and some shouting for you to hurry up and announce the next mission already. You sympathize with both sets of emotions.

You glance at Ricky, who is now smirking at you from the crowd-- eyebrows raised as he chews his cheek. Fighting the urge to grin back at him winningly, your eyes return to your script card in your hand.

"The Third Mission is..." You look back at the screen behind you and gesture towards it as a new pair of words appear. “Artist Battle!"

Yet another commotion ensues and you suddenly understand why the boys kept losing their voices in the first two missions. As you finish your script, announcing that teams will be formed and then re-formed after eliminations, you're instructed to meet and greet the trainees and give them your well wishes.

After a half hour of greeting all of the contestants and having to pretend like you'd never met any of them before in your life, an especially familiar contestant strolls up to you.

"Hello, how are you?" Ricky greets formally as a few of the trainees he is closest with giggle behind him. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

"Hi, how are you?" You return, extending your hand for him to shake as you bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing in front of the staff. "What did you say your name was?"

"Ricky," he replies, taking your hand in his and shaking it firmly. "And your name is?"

You squeeze his hand hard, raising your eyebrows in a stern warning. Too far, you mouth.

"Ow!" He whines before looking around to smile nervously at the closely observing staff. "I mean, WOW that joke did not land! Of course I know who you are. I love you."

You pinch his hand harder.

"--R WORK! I love your work," Ricky corrects after your warning, but the mischievous glint is still in his eyes. "I'm a big fan of your entire body of work."

Zhang Hao and Kuan Jui have to excuse themselves as they burst into laughter, running out into the hall to (most likely) tell everyone what Ricky just said with cameras rolling.

Ricky smiles at you smugly and you finally drop his hand. A producer frowns at you both confusedly. "Do you two... know each other or something?"

Ricky shakes his head. "Where would I have met the leader and main vocalist of Virtual Reality before?"

The producer nods, shrugging in agreement. "Huh. You just have good chemistry is all."

"He's not my type," you reply coolly, eyes narrowing as you glare at your boyfriend.

"Hey," Ricky pouts softly; a little frown forming on his lips.

You fight the urge to lift up on your toes and give your tall, handsome boyfriend a peck, opting instead to pat him on the shoulder and give him a boastful grin. "It was nice to meet you, Nicky!"

His eyebrows furrow now, the adorable pout growing deeper (and more powerful). "It's Ricky."

"Good luck, Mickey!" You call over your shoulder with a wave, following two staff members out the door.

~

Walking through the empty hall to the back parking lot after you've finished removing your wardrobe and makeup in your dressing room, you see your favorite trainee (okay-- your second favorite trainee. Red House Mingyu is actually your favorite but you can NOT tell Ricky that) waiting for you in the doorway.

"Hey Nicky," you greet with a laugh as Ricky looks up from his phone.

"Stoooooop," he whines, basically collapsing in your arms as you hug him. Into your shoulder, he mumbles, "I am your type."

You kiss his cheek, rubbing his back comfortingly. "You totally are my type.”

"I can't believe you're hosting the show I'm on," he says, pulling back from the hug to look at you. "You told me you were getting the cats bathed today."

You throw your head back in a laugh. "Cats don't get bathed, lovey."

He laughs awkwardly. “Oh."

"I thought that was such an obvious lie that you'd catch on!" You exclaim, grabbing his hand in yours and swinging them back and forth playfully.

Ricky looks around, checking if any staff are lingering in the hallway before swinging open the door and pulling you through.

"Where do you think you're going?" You ask with a giggle as Ricky pulls you towards your car.

"To get ramen with you," he replies with a smile, raising your hand in his above your head so he can twirl you around.

You spin around with a grin, bowing after the impromptu dance move before he continues to pull you along. You watch as his pretty, dangly earring jingles while he runs.

"Fine," you relent with a grin. "But you're gonna have to buy me a lot of ramen to make up for that body joke."

[johnwickb1tsch]

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline that's turning into a fic Part 5 ~

Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle

You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you... Warnings: His Hotness don John being a bully 🙃 <----Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 chapter map

-Life moves at its own pace at Las Nubes. True, it is a vineyard, but it is also a working farm, a self-reliant symbiosis of the land, the beasts, and the men and women who tend them. There are sheep and chickens and pigs and of course, the pride of the land owning Californio: horses. There is always something to be done, when you are not tending your father, so when the chance comes at the siesta break you pounce on it to write a little in your diary. Everyone else is asleep, or at least resting during the hottest part of the day, and its almost as though you have the place to yourself by the duck pond in the shade of the courtyard. You throw them little morsels of stale bread, smiling at the happy way they wag their tails and mutter as they nibble. 

The hens enjoy themselves, at least, until the drake decides yet again that it’s time to bestow his special attentions. There is one hen in particular he favors, and you wince as it looks more like he’s trying to drown her than make love. The poor thing has a little bald patch on the back of her head from him biting her to hold on as he rides her. 

“Leave her alone,” you say, poking at him with a stick to dislodge him from the poor girl. She shakes it off and goes back to her bread. He makes his complaints to you, but retreats to the far side of the fountain. 

“Poor bastard. You didn’t even let him finish.” 

You jump a little at the sound of don Juan’s voice, not having expected to see anyone around. Warily you watch him as he takes the seat next to yours, his long legs sprawled out before him. He wipes his face with a handkerchief; he’s been doing something in the fields, perhaps, or out with his prized stallion. He seems tired, but content; whatever chore he labored at must have gone well. 

“He’s too much of a pest,” you say. “He needs to be sent to the cook pot.” 

Juan smirks over at you. “But then where will my ducklings come from?”

You make a sound between your teeth at that, and he goes on, “I like him. He is exactly what God made him. He does not have to apologize for it.”

It’s true, that he’s a handsome fellow, with his iridescent emerald green head and the proud curl of his drake feathers on his behind. “He looks like pato asado to me.”  

“You would take his life?” poses Juan, clearly enjoying playing the foil. He was always like this, even when you were children. Always taking the opposing side, for the sake of being contrary. “For being a man of passions?”

“For hurting his females for the sake of indulging his passions. He’s supposed to protect them.”

“Ah, well. Everything comes with a price.” 

You look over at don Juan, devastatingly handsome, even in a dusty work shirt open at the collar, his long legs encased to the knee in well-worn leather boots. Once you might have sold your soul, to possess this man for yourself. 

Now you realize, some prices are too high. 

“What do you want, Juan?” you ask cautiously. You can tell that strangely he’s in one of his more playful moods. That doesn’t mean you’re safe by half.

“Just to talk.”

“About?”

He leans in across the table, his dark eyes raking over you. You hate it, how that still gives you such a guilty thrill. “I have a proposition that may interest you.”

“Is this a proposition you would not like my husband to overhear?”

Now it is he who makes the frustrated hiss between his sharp teeth, sneering. “Come off it. You are no more married to that man than I am the Pope.” 

“Señor, how you offend me.” 

He narrows his eyes to slits, but a smirk pulls at the corner of his proud lips. He is enjoying himself–and that worries you. “I understand you, y/n, better than you think.”

You’re afraid that might be true.

“Oh?”

“I have always known you have a heart not easily tamed. Perhaps it is why I have always loved you.”

“Juan…”

“Marry me, y/n. Be the mistress of this place. Of your own destiny. I will give you your room with your typewriter in the tower, overlooking this.” He holds his arms wide, encompassing the entirety of Las Nubes. “There is no better view, no better place to be on this Earth. Your only master shall be me.”

Many things can be said of don Juan. If there is something you know he does truly love, it is Las Nubes. He is a man of this land, and you understand he truly cannot fathom wanting to be anywhere else. 

Then, you realize that he must have been spying on you and Paul in the pool that night, and that maybe he really does know everything. 

Once, being crowned reina of this estate might have been your fondest dream, something so far out of your grasp there was never any sense in even thinking of it in the light of day. Now…you know that binding yourself to Juan would be like offering your ankle up for a gilded ball and chain. 

He would destroy you, little by little. Maybe not even maliciously, but in spite of himself. He is what he is, and you are what you are. 

It would be war. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you say, tracing a finger over the edge of your little diary, unable to meet his burning eyes while your heart beats too fast in your throat. “I’m already married, and you are engaged.”

“To some girl I’ve never met, two-thousand miles away? What is she to me, but a dowry? We don’t need it. The harvest was generous; the land blesses us as always. We take care of Las Nubes, and she takes care of us.”

You can feel his eyes boring into you, and it sends an uneasy thrill down your spine.   

“I’m sorry, señor. You’re too late. Don’t marry her if it displeases you. But you must find yourself a different bride–I am taken.”

You physically feel the change in the air, as his jovial bonhomie shifts to blackness, like a thunderhead looming. Yet somehow it surprises you when he moves like lightning, snatching you up in his unforgiving arms, his grip on your wrists bruising. “WIllful girl. I offer you this highest honor, and you throw it back in my face? I will prove that you are lying to me,” he tells you, his voice low in your ear. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your fear. “And then, I will claim what is mine.” 

“Let go of me.”

“What if I don’t?” he demands, delighted by the thought of a fight. You can see the spark in his eyes. Despite his anger; this is fun for him, and you know a marriage to this man would never know peace. He would terrorize you for nothing if not his own amusement. Maybe he would give you a room in the tower–but its more likely he would lock you in it. 

“Y/n?” Again, Paul rides to your rescue, approaching from somewhere beyond the wall. 

Before you can answer this time, don Juan presses his mouth to yours in a punishing kiss, your teeth clashing in his furious bid to claim you. This time, he remembers to retreat before you can bite him too, releasing you so abruptly you fall back into your chair. With a dramatic sweep of his arm he knocks your diary into the fountain before stalking away on those long legs. “How clumsy of me!”

You shriek, diving for the little book. 

That is how Paul finds you, on your knees by the water, crying over your inked words now obliterated. 

“Y/n?” He falls to his knees beside you, at first not understanding, searching you for injury. “Are you alright?”

You hold up the little book, half the pages now more resembling a watercolor painting. “It’s ruined.” 

“Oh.” He frowns, not wanting to belittle this thing that clearly distresses you, but not understanding nonetheless. “Can’t you…write it again?”

You know you’ll never be able to recreate exactly what you’d put down there. You won’t be able to remember what you wrote, in the throes of feverish inspiration, the manic fugue of the cosmic muse whispering through your writing hand. 

Amidst your own daily musings, you’ve been writing a story about a spirited young lady who meets a handsome veteran on a bus. 

You shake your head, crestfallen, and Paul’s frown darkens for you. 

“What happened?”

You don’t know if he saw the tailend of don Juan turning the corner before he made the scene, but a part of you fears that if you tell on the master there will be a fight. “I dropped it,” you say meekly. 

For a moment, you can tell he wants to argue, but because he’s a better man than anyone here, he lets it go. “Ok, sweetheart. Let’s go see if we can get it dried out.”

You are beginning to see this miraculous thing about Paul. When you are dead set that a thing is doomed, he still finds hope. Although you’re mostly certain the diary is ruined, you still feel better returning to your room with his arm around your shoulders. 

Maybe you can rewrite it after all.  

[toomuchracket]

birthday surprise (dad!matty x reader fluff)

another matty35 fic!! a sweet little moment about you and your girls surprising their dad on his birthday, on the other side of the world from home. enjoy! <3

“here we are, 345. dyl, you take the keycard for your mum, yeah?” adam hands the card for the room to your eldest, then peels your middle child from his leg, ruffling her curls. “and remember, you need to be extra loud to wake your dad up. feel free to film it, also.”

you snort, readjusting the baby in your arms. “you think i'll be able to wrangle these three and matty and get the camera out at the same time?”

“good point. still, i expect to hear all about it later!”

“of course. thanks again for helping with this, mate,” you give your friend a hug. “right, you lot, hugs to uncle adam before we go inside.”

adam crouches so dylan and elena can cuddle him, then stands to boop phoebe's tiny nose. “see you all at dinner. have fun!”

“we will!” dylan calls after him. grabbing the handle of her suitcase, she turns to look at you expectantly. “can we go in now, mummy?”

the eagerness is practically radiating off her and elena - actually, even phoebe, barely a year old, seems keen to get inside to see her dad. then again, her two big sisters did spend the entire flight from london to LA explaining that matty was away for work and it was about to be his birthday and the reason you were all on the plane was so you could go and surprise him at work “and also to go to the beach”. while she might be too little to fully understand what they're saying - especially given that both of your elder daughters inherited the matty trait of rambling at the speed of light - their enthusiasm was definitely contagious; despite your lethargy from trying to get three under-eights through an airport and onto a plane in peace, your own excitement about seeing matty for the first time in two months was heightened listening to them yap.

you nod, smiling at your girls. “open the door, dyl, sweetheart. remember to be really quiet when we're going in, yeah? we don't want to wake daddy up before we're ready, do we?”

“no,” elena shakes her head, wild curls flying everywhere. she's the one most like her dad, in personality and looks, with a big toothy smile and a frequent disdain for rules or convention. “and we need to put all our things away first, too.”

well, sometimes she's very like you. “exactly, lena. help your sister with the door, would you?”

little faces set in determination, dylan and elena push the heavy door open as quietly as possible; you shift phoebe into one arm and hold it with the other while they grab their suitcases, then swap the baby to your other arm while you grab your own. once you're in the little entryway, dylan sensibly grabs the handle so she can close the door with minimal noise, turning to you with a grin. “we did it.”

“we did. well done, munchkins,” you high-five dylan and elena, and kiss phoebe's fluffy little head before looking around the hotel room - although, suite would be a more accurate word to describe it. you knew management were booking some sort of family room for matty in preparation for the birthday surprise, but you didn't quite expect something so elaborate. “wow, this is nice.”

“it's so big!” elena pokes her head round the nearest door to you, left ajar, and returns absolutely beaming. “that's daddy's room.”

dylan gasps and tiptoes to stick her own head in, and you follow, excitement buzzing through your body. at the sight of matty, fast asleep with his curls askew and the covers bunched around his waist, you sigh happily; even after all these years together, you're not used to being away from him, and the sight of him within touching distance after almost nine weeks of nothing but facetimes and texts and phone calls honestly brings a lump to your throat.

you can't keep looking at him forever, though, as easy as it would be for you to do - you and your daughters are on a mission, after all. “right. lena, could you open the door on the left, please? the one across from dad's?”

she obliges. “bathroom - oh!” she gasps. “the shower has a bench in it!”

“really?” you peer in, jaw dropping in complete bewilderment - the room's bigger than the master bedroom in the old flat. “shi- shocked. i'm shocked. anyway,” you nudge her out of the doorway. “moving on. next room?”

dylan's already on it. “another bedroom, mum. two beds.”

“that's you two's, then. come on, we'll put our stuff in here for now.”

it's a lovely room, sun-dappled and spacious. you giggle as elena cannonballs onto one of the beds, while dylan immediately goes to the window to look out onto los angeles; phoebe coos happily as you lay her on the other bed, kicking her tiny legs in the air with reckless abandon. she giggles when you lean down to blow a raspberry on her tummy, your favourite sound in the world, and cuddles into you when you take her into your arms again. “alright, my girls, i think it's time,” you start, and the two older girls come skidding over. “who's got dad's birthday card?”

“me,” elena runs to her carry-on, pulling out the card the three of them made for matty and carrying it over as if it was made of glass.

“and the present?”

“here,” dylan holds up a gift bag.

you nod. “good. you ready?”

they both nod enthusiastically, little bobbleheads with cheesy grins. you grin in return, turning to phoebe. “are you ready, baba?”

adorably, she grins back just as cheesily as her sisters; you take that as a “yes”, although you carefully sniff her to make sure she doesn't need changed. with an approving nod, you stand up, smiling. “alright. let's go and see daddy. quietly.”

you've barely got the words out before dylan and elena are tiptoeing as quickly as they can out of the room, graceless impersonations of the demi-pointe running they do at ballet class. turning to phoebe, you sigh. “nice of them to wait for us, isn't it, pheebs?”

she giggles again, a flash of matty genes amidst a face that looks mostly like yours. even though you've been married to him for years and loved him even longer, the fact you have three kids with matty is a little bit mind-boggling to you. in all those years you spent pining for him, the thought of a family was far-fetched even in your wildest dreams - thinking about your girls, half you and half him, flesh and blood with hearts of gold and incredible brains and the biggest smiles you've ever seen… it's honestly a little overwhelming, in the best possible way; a perfect epilogue to a love story that took a few more pages to kick in than it should've.

“mama,” phoebe coos, distracting you, beaming when you coo praise in response. yeah, she only knows two words, but she learned them scarily fast compared to her sisters - again, you reckon it's down to their and matty's respective constant yapping. “dada?”

“yes, sweet girl, we'll go and see him now,” you hoist her further into your grasp, kissing her chubby cheek before following your other sweet girls. they’re waiting outside matty’s door, looking between it and you like they’re watching wimbledon, practically vibrating with excitement. the sight makes you smile. “ok, girls, game plan time. i say we all sit on the empty side of the bed, and when i give the signal, we shout ‘surprise!’. classic, simple, effective. yeah?”

“good idea, mum,” dylan nods. “now?”

you grin. “yeah.”

she bolts into the room, ducking round the half-open door without touching it, elena at her heels. you can’t really stop yourself from running, either, although the door hinders you slightly more given that you’re holding phoebe. and, you know, you’re not five or seven. by the time you and the baby get in, the girls have already carefully climbed onto the bed, staring lovingly down at matty not unlike the way they stared at phoebe when she first came home from the hospital.

the thought makes you giggle, which in turn makes elena turn round to scowl at you. “mummy! shhhh!”

“sorry. here, dyl, take… thanks,” you pass phoebe to her biggest sister while you climb onto the bed, too; dylan carefully sits the baby down beside her, the resemblance between them especially evident in the way they’re smiling. you can’t blame them - you might be biased, but you do think your husband is a very cute sleeper, pretty lips slightly parted and eyelashes brushing his cheek.

a cute sleeper, beginning to wake up already. dylan and elena are coiled springs, ready to shout-shock their dad into full consciousness - their faces aren’t visible where you sit, but you know that they’re grinning. you are, too. so is phoebe, most likely.

two months apart. far too long.

matty’s arms stretch the exact same way dylan’s do when she first wakes up (and you do your best to keep your thoughts about them to a PG rating). you’ve been privy to his wakeup routine countless times since you were eighteen, and, still, your heart flutters at the way he yawns and rolls onto his side, lips set into a sleepy faint smile, blinking his eyes open. but, before you can even open your mouth to signal “now!”, those eyes widen fully; accompanied by a “christ!”, matty jumps (well, jerks) backward in surprise, and, in the process, completely falls out of the bed.

all four of the rest of you crawl to the edge of the bed, reactions varying to the echoing thud of your husband’s arse hitting the hardwood floor. dylan and elena are beside themselves with laughter, clutching each other in complete hysterics, while you lean over in shock, tentatively asking “baby, you alright?”. but it’s phoebe’s reaction that matty actually responds to, pulling himself back up when he hears her concerned wail of “dada!” and sees her lip trembling, a sign of imminent tears - he climbs onto the mattress and shuffles towards the centre, scooping her up into a cuddle and pressing gentle kisses to her little head. “oh, my sweet baby. daddy’s alright, munchkin, really, but i appreciate the concern,” he scowls at the older two. “at least one of my daughters cares about me.”

“sorry, dad,” dylan moves to snuggle into him, elena copying the action on the other side. “we do care. but that was a little bit funny.”

he smiles, leaning down as best he can to kiss their curls in turn. “yeah, i s’pose it was. and i’ve missed making you all laugh, even if that time was unintentional. missed you, all of you, my girls!”

elena looks up at her dad adoringly. “missed you too. a lot. so has dyl, and pheebs. and mummy.”

“yeah,” matty looks at you properly for the first time; his eyes look like home, warm and loving and familiar, and it still does funny things to your stomach. “hi, darling. you kept this quiet, didn’t you?”

“wanted to surprise you, baby,” you move to kiss him, as passionately as you can with three kids around; despite the restraint from both of you, you’re lightheaded when you break apart. “happy birthday.”

“thanks, my darlings,” matty blushes, amid a chorus of felicitations from your daughters. he sniffles and hugs the baby tighter, tears welling in those pretty eyes. “this is really special, having you all out here with me today. god, you’ve no idea how much i’ve missed you.”

“yeah, we do,” you laugh softly, leaning around phoebe to gently wipe the tears from his eyes with your thumbs; he kisses your palm as a thank-you. “we took a twelve-hour flight across the atlantic because we didn’t want to be away from you any longer! thank god management agreed to it, by the way. reckon i’d have gone insane if i had to wait for tour to end before i got to be with you again. and yes,” you notice matty opening his mouth to speak. “we’re here until hometime.”

“oh, thank god,” matty’s eyes close in bliss. “i miss home.”

“funny you should say that, actually,” you wave to get dylan’s attention, nodding towards the gift bag. “take a look at your birthday present.”

“and card,” elena chips in.

“and card, of course,” you settle the baby against your own chest, smiling as matty tugs the girls into a cuddle after he reads the card from them; it turns to a full-on giggle when he opens the gift bag. “so, verdict?”

matty cheers, pulling out the box of pg tips teabags and packet of chocolate digestives. “you always know just what i need,” he wraps an arm around you, kissing your head.

“yeah, which is why there’s also a new turntable waiting for you at home, too. we were gonna buy a record to go with it, but,” you look up at your husband quizzically. “we thought it might be nice to go shopping for one here, together?”

he kisses you sweetly. “i love that idea. to be honest, i’d be happy doing anything with my girls. shall we go record shopping today?”

“matty, babe, it’s your birthday. you decide!”

“alright. record shopping it is,” he grins, increasing the volume of his voice as he continues. “but first… i’m thinking we should order room service.”

elena’s face lights up. “can we get pancakes? please? with nutella? and strawberries?”

matty gestures towards the entryway. “menu’s out there, munchkins. go and have a look, see what you want,” he smiles after elena and dylan as they tear out of the room. “can’t believe you managed to get those adorable riots on a transatlantic flight by yourself. and you, baba!” he coos to phoebe, who babbles excitedly in response. her dad laughs, kissing her head before kissing you. “seriously, i’m in awe of you. have been for decades at this point already, but… i’m so impressed that you pulled this off. and so grateful. and so in love with you, forever and always.”

“i love you so, so much. always will,” you kiss matty’s lips, then nose, then all over his face, until he’s giggling a lot like the baby wriggling happily on your chest. “happy birthday again, baby.”

[ghosts-bandwagon]

THANKS GOD you write for alejandro, because this men have me on my knees. First of all, congratulations on those 100 followers. Well deserved for your great content and how fast you do it, it's great! You deserve more than that. Now, back to the request.

I would like to leave the solitude for alejandro (daddy yes). Maybe where he's trying to courting his crush, or in what way he would try to win the woman he likes without trying to expant her or push her away from him.

Thank you ♡

Stop you’re making me blush and cry ❤️😭 you’re too sweet! Yesssss we gotta give our boy some love too ❤️ (side note: I always listen to music when I’m writing these, so I got the opportunity to dip back into my Spanish playlist and I might gone a little crazy with this lmao)

Let’s flip the tables, you’re coming off the plane with Soap and Ghost and Alejandro is blindsided, Laswell told him about MacTavish and Ghost, how could she have forgotten to mention you?

You’re walking up to him just a step ahead of the other two, instantly he can recognize that they respect the hell out of you which means he does too

Your solid grip and the smile you give him as you introduce yourself have him feeling lightheaded, and as he’s getting into the car, he’s got an eye on you through the mirror and he decides that he has to have you

Despite the seriousness of the mission, he’ll find ways to get you to smile, whether it’s telling you a joke or telling you something about Las Almas, anything to see that gorgeous smile

When there’s downtime he finds a way to be physically close to you, he watches you as you train, he’s with you in the common area, he’s offering to give you (and only you) a tour of his base

He goes from referring you by your name to calling you different terms of endearment

“Hell of a shot, amor.”

“Wheels up in 20, querida.”

He always saves you the best looking breakfast pastries, there’s always magically a seat available next to him, he loves introducing you to different foods, maybe even poking fun at you for sweating from the spice

“Pobrecita, too much?”

He loves when you shove him with your shoulder, you’re still laughing so he’s not worried, don’t worry he’ll get you some tissues for your runny nose

And when things have finally calmed down and Graves and Hassan are no longer a threat, he gathers you up in a big celebratory hug, he’s spinning you around and you’re a little breathless, but he can’t help it, you make him feel alive and at peace and almost like a kid again

“You were incredible, mi vida, maybe I can talk them into letting you stick around longer hm?”

“Are you sure? I still don’t speak Spanish very well.” You laughed,

“That’s ok, querida, I’ll teach you.” He winked at you with his signature lopsided smirk, and suddenly your cheeks felt incredibly warm

Private lessons with Alejandro don’t sound too bad