#Well at least I still had good memories watching his stuff

[mrdrhenwardhykle]

You didn't have the full experience of having your social media/pop culture manipulated and set for you if you don't recognize either of these men/hj

[v1rtu4ld0ll]

𝐕𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐏.𝐒𝐇

⌞♡⸝⸝ 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬⌝ There it was , the camera you always used in your younger years to record yourself at least once a week or record special moments — it was your little diary. You filmed yourself growing up , significant moments — it also included your love story with your husband and your child . Surely watching all the footage wouldn't be bad, right? ⌞♡⸝⸝𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬⌝ sfw content, lovestory, wedding ceremony, only the ending is in the present (everything else is from the past), "present time" plays in 2032, Reader is the same age as Sunghoon, kissing , young teens in love ⌞♡⸝⸝ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭⌝ 3k

⌞♡⸝⸝ 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞⌝ Not gonna lie , i got a bit emotional while writing this, reblogs and feedback are appreciated!

A silver colored Digital camera with cute stickers on it and a beaded charm , that was the camera you used when you were younger — it was dusty now , you haven’t used or touched it in a while. It’s fascinating how many precious things one can find while cleaning the attic — old pictures , clothes your child wore as a baby , a box that contained stuff from highschool and college , but the most precious thing was your digital camera — a tiny memory card in it that held years of precious memories , a quick look wouldn’t hurt , right?

"It's the 15th of December in 2019 , I'm currently 17 years old", You moved your hand away from the camera as you turned it on , an awkward smile on your face as you looked at it. "Oh wow... this is really awkward.. Hello Diary or future me or anyone who found it i guess ? I've decided to lead a little video diary to watch back in the future , hopefully with a Partner by my side and possibly a child ? I thought it would be cute to watch it together in the future and watch me grow up or to look back on good memories. But that's not the only reason , this will be very embarrassing for me if i will end up with someone else but — i met a really cute boy at the Ice rink today. He doesn’t know I exist yet but I’m planning on going to the Ice rink again tomorrow and hopefully see him again! He’s really cute , very handsome and a bit anti-social so I don’t know if I will have the courage to talk to him tomorrow — he’s unapproachable! From what I have seen , he’s a figure skater — It’s like he’s flying on Ice with how graceful his movements are , like a bird who got freed from its cage. Well , whoever is watching this and I didn’t end up with him and has to watch me talk about another boy — I am very sorry!”, an almost embarrassed expression made its way on your face , your hand that was covered by your sleeve covering your mouth to cover up the silly grin you had on your face as you let out a squeal of embarrassment before hurriedly shutting off the camera.

God , your expressions never changed , you still had that same expression whenever you were embarrassed. The next video started to play, but it wasn’t a video of you — it was a video of Sunghoon when he was younger. The video dated back to a week later of the first video you filmed — it seems like you didn’t have the courage to talk to him after the first video after all.

He wore his usual training tracksuit he always wore when he trained , a monotone expression on his face. The camera followed the directions he glided across the ice to , his movements experienced and graceful, he looked so free on the ice rink — the ice rink was his home. “Look at her watching him with that flustered expression”, it was your friend's voice , the camera panning to you — a small fond smile on your face as your eyes practically sparkled while watching him before you looked at the camera in embarrassment. “Shut up!”, you giggled shyly as you tried to move the camera away from you but soon got distracted by watching him again , a soft sigh falling from your lips as you watched him do an axel. Your friend put their hand on your shoulder as they gently shook you. “Come on (Y/n) , just talk to him! The worst he can do is say no or ignore you!”, your friend laughed softly as they tried to encourage you to talk to him before the video cut off. It started to film again , your friend seemingly filming you secretly as you did your move on him. Your back got filmed so only Sunghoon was visible from the front — a surprised expression on his face before his cheeks flushed as he grinned while nodding his head. Your friend whispered a quiet  ‘Yes!’ as you got Sunghoon’s number , their happiness and excitement for you is visible in their voice. Your friend continued to film the whole interaction before you walked towards them once Sunghoon had to get back to training , a happy and excited expression on your face as you tried to suppress your squeals but they ultimately came out once you reached your friend. You were so happy on that day after finally being able to talk to the boy who you had been eyeing and also getting his number. 

The video ended and the next videos were just you filming Sunghoon on several days when he was ice skating , it was clear how much he loved it — his first love , the ice rink , that would never change. Your voice could be heard in the background , silently gushing about how pretty he looks on ice and how good he is at ice skating — compliments that always made his heart swell up with pride. There were also short clips you had taken when you were with Sunghoon , having met up regularly to hang out or watch him practice — short clips from the scenery you two were at , pictures of when Sunghoon took you out and you’d see something looked pretty, pictures of Sunghoon or short clips of the two of you. Your smile was so bright and whenever you’d look away , Sunghoon would look at you with eyes as soft as a pillow — eyes sparkling with a fond smile on his face. He was falling for you.

The next video played but you were giggling while glancing to your left before you spoke up. “It’s been a while since I last properly filmed something , it’s the 14th of february 2020 and , Sunghoon over here wanted me to film my reaction to something”, you panned the camera into his direction to which he’d grin and cover his face with the sleeve of his sweater before moving out of frame. “Don’t show me! It’s embarrassing!”, he could be heard whining in the background to which you could only giggle. Judging by your Background , the two of you were in your room. You sat up a bit and placed your camera on your window ledge since you two were on your bed that was right next to your window. “Alright , close your eyes”, Sunghoon said as he was rummaging through his back judging by the rustling noises and you did close your eyes — the corners of your lips twitching as you tried to bite back the smile that was starting to grow on your face.

With your hands held open and eyes closed , you felt something getting placed in your hand — your cheeks growing hot as you opened your eyes just to see a small black velvet box in your hands. You looked at Sunghoon in surprise to which he just urged you to open it with a shy smile on his face. You slowly opened the box and the camera captured your expression perfectly , the look of genuine surprise on your face was a sight he loved. “Sunghoon, this was probably so expensive!”, you gasped as your nimble fingers lifted up the thin silver chain with a delicate heart pendant attached to it , an icy blue gem in the middle of it —  there was something under the gem that made it look as if the blue gem was frozen on the inside. “Nothing’s too expensive if it makes you happy”, Sunghoon mumbled as he moved into the frame , your mattress dipping under his weight as he kneeled behind you and brushed your hair to the side before grabbing the necklace from your fingers —  the silver was cool against your skin as he held it in front of you and locked the clasp.

“Don’t look at me… I have something to tell you”, Sunghoon started with a soft sigh as he placed his hands on your shoulders before he ran them down your arms , his hand finding yours while his chest was pressed against your back with his chin on your shoulder. He didn’t care if he was going to get rejected or not since your camera was still running — it would be embarrassing if you were to reject him on camera but it would be a great memory if you accept it. “(Y/n).... I’m not really good with expressing my emotions or feelings so I apologize if this will be awkward, I’m trying my best but… I really like you. You’re more than just a friend to me , if I had to compare you to something, I’d compare you to an Ice rink. With you I can be myself , I don’t have to put on an act — you make me feel free and like nothing could ever get to me. You don’t judge me or tell me to be different , you’re always there for me and support and comfort me. You turn the thoughts in my head off and make me feel at peace. I…I want to go out with you… but only if you want to as well?”, the camera focused on you as you tried to stay calm but on the inside , your heart was doing backflips while Sunghoon felt as if his heart was going to jump out any second with how hard it was pounding against his chest — he just indirectly told you that you were his first love. You turned your head a little to the side so you could look at him , his eyes shifting to look back at you. “I want to , I really do. You don’t know how happy you’ve made me with that”, you said with a silly smile on your face , his facial expression matching yours as he heard what you had said —  his arms moving to circle around your waist to hug you. His eyes were intensively staring into you — a hint of hesitance and desire glimmering in his brown orbs. “Can I kiss you..?”, he whispered softly , your heart doing another flip as you nodded your head gently —  his right hand moved up to the side of your face as he leaned in , turning your face more towards him as best as he could , keeping your position in mind , before kissing you gently.

‘Oh we were so young and so in love.’ , the corners of his lips twitched up into a subtle smile.

There weren’t any videos after that from the same year ,the year after , the year after the last year and the year after the last year again. The next video was a video that was cut together , a long one that didn’t have an ending to it , you didn’t finish editing it. It started with the previously watched videos before there was a huge jump —  you looked older , more mature , this was back in 2026. A bright smile was on your face , your eyes shining so brightly that they could light up a whole room. You wore a white dress , your hands covering your mouth as you looked at your reflection , eyes teary and looking like diamonds shimmering in the light. “It’s the 14th of February in 2026 and…. I can’t believe it , my best friend is getting married”, it was your best friend's voice trembling with emotions , they were close to tears , just like you were. They moved towards you to film you as you dabbed your tears away from the inner corners of your eyes to ruin your makeup , your giggles being heard clearly on the footage. “I’m getting married to the love of my life , I can’t believe this is true”, you sniffled as you smiled into the camera. There was a cut and the next scene came , Sunghoon’s mother and sister hugging you while complementing how pretty you looked in your wedding dress before your Mom placed the veil on your head , handing you your bouquet of forget-me-not —  possibly an usual flower to use for a wedding bouquet but you didn’t care ,you liked the meaning of them. “Are you ready?”, your mom asked softly as she put her hands on your shoulder , her eyes teary as she looked at you —  her little girl was getting married ,the day had come and your mother wasn’t sure if she was the one ready for it. “Yes”, you nodded your head as you gave your mom a soft smile before she hugged you.

There was another cut and the next scene played , the wedding ceremony started. The beautiful tunes of the pipe organ started the ceremony , the wooden doors opening as you walked in with your dad by your side , the camera panned to film Sunghoon who was nervously waiting for you by the altar. His hands were trembling as you finally stood in front of him , his hand taking yours gently as he whispered something that couldn’t be heard —  but his lips moved so clearly that anyone could see that he whispered that you looked beautiful. Your backs turned to the camera as the priest spoke up and you exchanged your vows. Your friend zoomed the camera in to clearly capture Sunghoon and you putting your rings on each other before he slowly lifted your veil. He was no crier, he rarely cried but to get married to the girl he loved got his waterworks working , his glossy eyes twinkling in the eyes as he exhaled a shaky breath while he caressed the side of your face with his left hand. “You may kiss the Bride”, he didn’t need to be told twice as he leaned down and gently kissed you , cheers and happy crying erupting in the church as the deal had been sealed. The video cut again and the next shots were from the wedding — you throwing your bouquet and his sister catching it , the two of you cutting your wedding cake , the two of you having your wedding dance before switching to him dancing with his mother and you dancing with your dad before the video cut again. The change of scenery was you filming a house while the “sold” sign was being removed from the lawn , Sunghoon could be seen carrying furniture into the house together with your Father in law and your own dad before you turned the camera towards you.

“It’s the 10th of July in 2027 and we’ve finally moved out of our Apartment and are in the process of moving into our new House. Baby ,we did it! The renovations are finally done and we can start our own family properly!”, you said in excitement with a bright smile on your face. “We did it… we’ve gotten so far , I’m so proud of us”, your voice cracked a little as you started to get emotional as realization finally hit you. “We’re married , have our own home and… it won’t be long until we’ll finally meet our little Princess”,you moved the camera in an angle that showed your swollen belly , you were 6 months pregnant at the time —  you were glowing , looking so pretty in your gorgeous sundress. Your eyes were starting to get teary as all the emotions hit you at once and you pointed the camera to the ground as you tried to pull yourself together. “Are you okay my love? Why are you crying? Do you not feel good?”, Sunghoon’s worried voice could be heard as he came to you , the shadows on the pavement showing that he was hugging you and kissing your forehead while you laughed softly and sniffled that you were just getting emotional.

The video cut again and this time it was Sunghoon who was filming, his tone hushed as he spoke. “It’s the 15th of October 2027 and… our little girl is finally here”, he turned the camera so it was focused on you sleeping in the hospital bed with your newborn sleeping on your chest — his fingers adjusting your hospital gown since it was pulled down a bit as you were breastfeeding previously. His hand moved up to your face , gently brushing your messy hair away from your forehead. “My pretty girl…. I’m so proud of you , you did so well and now , our pretty princess has set foot into the world , our little angel”, his tone was soft and hushed , barely a whisper as he moved the cameras a bit to film your sleeping baby girl , his fingers gently touching the newborns hand just for the small hand to open and grasp onto his index finger. “My pretty girls… I will do anything to protect the two of you”, with that , the video cut again and the next video clips started to play. Clips of your daughter growing up , from her starting to crawl to her first time standing , from her first steps to her teeth growing and her starting to speak, to her first time swimming and her crying when Sunghoon had to be away for a couple days —  she was a daddy’s girl for sure. But then , there was nothing , you haven’t filmed for a while.

His small smile shifted into a sad one , his eyes filled with grief —  how would you be able to film when you weren’t here anymore? It happened two years ago , a car accident — you fell into a coma before ultimately passing away. He couldn’t stop grieving , not now , not in ten years , not even when he’s old and wrinkly —  maybe not even until he will die. He had to fight back his tears , he couldn’t cry , not now , not when he knew that his little princess was watching him right now. “Daddy…. I miss mommy…”, the little girl said , he wasn’t aware that she went to look for him and found him in the attic watching the videos —  the little girl watching from behind. He sighed softly as he gathered himself but his glossy eyes couldn’t be hidden as he turned around to look at his daughter and opened his arms to hug her as she walked towards him.

“Me too… Daddy misses Mommy too …”

[aurumalatus]

YOU ARE THE ONLY THING

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ (THAT'S EVER MADE SENSE TO ME)

wc. 5k chapter warnings. angst, cursing chapter summary. the memory of you haunts kinich wherever he goes, a perpetual existence in his life. but when he sees you again by chance, he takes the opportunity to try to right his wrongs. author's note. the first chapter of many...this is gonna be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, a lot of stupid mistakes and forgiveness and moving on and all that good stuff. pls lmk what y'all think! reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

masterlist | next ↣

MAYBE WE DON'T TALK ENOUGH. [1]

The graduation ceremony had been lovely, Kinich is sure.

If he had actually been paying attention to any of it, he might’ve even had fun. The field had been decorated with an array of balloons and flowers reflecting your school colors. Countless tears are shed and hugs are exchanged—he knows this might just be the last time he sees some of these people for the rest of his life. In a way, it’s a tribute to the childhood he’s spent here.

He scoffs, kicking at the dirt. To hell with that.

Because while everyone else had been grinning widely, proudly cheered on by their families, all he could do was stare at the empty seats in the stand. Unfulfilled promises swirl madly in his mind; the congratulations that people offer him in passing just slip in one ear and out the other.

So when you approach him, one hand outstretched as you shyly ask him to talk alone, all he can do is follow, blankly staring at the back of your head.

“Kinich, I have something to tell you.”

/

Kinich feels the remnants of you when he runs, sweat sticking to his skin and cold, biting air filling his lungs in a single breath.

Mid-stride, he zips his windbreaker to his neck, watching his breath dissipate like ice. The wind feels so much more piercing when he runs—it stings at his skin and his teeth. Fallen leaves crunch underfoot, a blanket of color over the edges of the field. Autumn always makes him feel melancholic—change always makes him feel melancholic.

Each step pounds heavy in the grass, picking up speed. His teammates know that he likes to run alone, just him and his contemplation—though Aether claims that it makes him a crazy person—and these are the rare times that he can just think.

Running comes naturally to him. Thinking does too, but not like this.

Most days, he tries to stay busy enough to avoid the thoughts. When he’s busy, there isn’t time to reflect on the past, there isn’t time to regret. Being team captain and taking as many credit overloads as he does means that he can stay ahead of the impending waves of guilt.

But when he runs, and it’s just him and the sound of his footsteps, memories of you start to creep in.

They say grief comes in waves, and he believes that must be true—you’ve always been a tide, ebbing and flowing into his life. That much was a constant, even when you weren’t. 

(Or, even when you ceased to be.)

He can go about a few weeks without thinking about you, as far as he’s tried. And he means really thinking about you, not just a brief thought relating to you, or your life, or your memory—he’s not sure he could last even ten minutes that way. Over the years, you’ve become so tightly intertwined with his being that he’s not sure he could ever untangle that connection fully.

His laptop password had been your birthday for years after you left. He still makes his tea the way you taught him, with lemon and just a spoonful of honey. Your shared playlists still haven’t left his Spotify library.

He sighs. Three years is a long time.

It’s long enough for most normal, well-adjusted people to grow out of their past relationship, or at least not be wondering about them for a majority of the day. And that’s if he can even call what the two of you had a relationship—it had been something, and it was his fault that it wasn’t anything more.

Sometimes, he just wonders where you are and what you’re doing.

It’s a sick sort of thing to ponder, especially knowing what he did to you, but he can’t help it—often, he sees you in everything.

He wishes that wasn’t the case.

A part of him wishes he could strike you from the history of his existence. Another part of him wishes he could see you again, just once.

“Sorry for calling you out here! I just thought if I didn’t tell you now, I might never tell you…”

“Kinich!”

He flinches halfway through his step, the echo of your voice fading somewhere in the back of his mind. When he skitters to a stop, he realizes it’s his coach yelling his name, one hand cupped at his mouth and the other frantically waving his clipboard. He gauges the distance between them—lost in his thoughts, he had run about 200 feet straight past the other man.

Flushing in embarrassment, Kinich jogs back to meet him.

“Sorry about that,” he pants. “Was just thinking about one of my exams.”

There’s a pause, like Coach Wayna is deciding whether to ask questions or let it go—Kinich isn’t usually one to lose track of himself, after all. Still, the man seems to land on the latter.

“Well, nice hustle,” he praises, rewarding him with a strong clap on the shoulder. “Get some water and wash up.”

He slaps a towel into Kinich’s outstretched hand—he accepts gratefully, slinging it over his neck and scrubbing the sweat off his face. 

He glances up at the graying sky. The clouds are coalescing into mismatched swirls—maybe it’ll rain tonight, he thinks vaguely. It doesn’t usually stop them from practicing anyway. He can recall a number of times that he has walked home drenched in mud.

“Already? It’s early, isn’t it?”

At this time of year, practices don’t usually end until the sun kisses the horizon, dipping and dimming. Kinich usually walks back to his apartment with his roommates at dusk, Aether’s whining carrying them home.

Coach Wayna is busy watching the other guys run, scribbling something down on his clipboard.

“We’re letting out early today,” he shrugs.

Licking over his lips, Kinich tastes the salt pooling at his cupid’s bow, lungs heaving.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks, raising a brow.

Looking out over the field, he watches the rest of his teammates finish their sprints. Aether is messing around again, trying to leapfrog over Xiao’s back, much to the latter’s irritation. Gaming seems to find the sight amusing, based on the way he whoops and cheers.

Kinich sighs, shaking his head—Aether is lucky that he’s as talented as he is.

Coach Wayna laughs, a guffawing sound that resounds deep in his chest and across the field. He’s a good-natured guy, really, if not a bit more patient than Kinich himself can manage.

“The occasion is that you guys are college students,” he explains, “and sometimes, I’m willing to let you enjoy your lives a little bit.”

A half-scowl crawls over Kinich’s lips. Coach Wayna is always on them about enjoying their lives outside the sport, just like everyone else in Kinich’s life. His friends have always been determined to get him out of his bedroom and get him participating in something that isn’t his clubs. It’s irritating sometimes, to say the least.

Kinich’s tongue runs dry, so he pads over to the cooler, throwing the top open and pulling a water bottle out to shake off the excess condensation. It’s nice and cool, a welcome sensation even when the air is colder than usual—internally, his skin thrums with heat.

He gets about halfway through the bottle by the time his teammates make it over, in various states of exhaustion. Aether is first to react, letting out a loud groan and flopping to the ground dramatically.

“Coach, are you trying to kill me?” he whines, throwing an arm over his eyes. “I can’t feel my legs.”

Xiao approaches Kinich directly, taking a water bottle from his outstretched hand.

“It’s your fault that you’re so tired,” Xiao deadpans, taking a swig and settling down in the grass. “Because you were late, the rest of us had to run extra.”

As kind as Coach Wayna is, he doesn’t let things like tardiness slide too often—Kinich’s legs burn as a firm reminder of that. Everything they do, they do as a team, which includes punishment.

“Blame Lumine,” Aether grumbles. “She forgot her keys, so I had to drop her off at work.”

Aether’s sister, as kind as she is, does tend to be a bit forgetful. But Aether is also irresponsible as hell sometimes, so there’s a 50% chance that he merely overslept. Xiao seems to silently agree, based on the way his brows knit together.

Coach Wayna has a short meeting with them to end practice, and Kinich half-listens—he’s still caught up on earlier. It’s only when Aether flicks him in the back of the head that he returns to earth.

“Hey, airhead, we’re going to Third Round Knockout,” he says, an order, not an invitation. Kinich scowls.

“You mean you’re going,” he corrects, packing up his duffel bag. “I’m going home so I can take an ice bath and forget this ever happened.”

He can count a number of other things that are infinitely more important than taking a single step in that greasy place, too. He has a few exams coming up to study for, a lab report to do, and a few logistics issues to resolve with his financial aid and scholarship. So really, he has no business going out at all.

But the thought grows more and more appealing the more his stomach rumbles. Aether seems to notice too, because he grins cheekily, slinging an arm over his friend’s shoulder.

“Just follow the sweet, sweet siren song of burgers and fries, and let it guide you home.”

Xiao sighs from where he sits on the bench, shaking his head—sharing an apartment with Aether and Kinich means he’ll likely get roped into this too. Aether goes around making his pitch to all their teammates, but most decline on the basis of being too busy or having things to do. Kinich thinks they’re just too exhausted to deal with Aether’s antics.

“I can’t, I’m sorry,” Gaming whines, checking his phone. “I have an exam tomorrow and if I don’t study and sleep, I’m gonna fail for sure.”

Aether wags a finger in his face, grinning. “You don’t have to study, C’s get degrees!”

Kinich wonders if he should step in, knowing how easily influenced Gaming can be when it comes to Aether’s lax personality. He doesn’t have time to get the words out, however, because Xiao strides past with a critical side-eye. 

“Yes, and Aether’s get dropped from their university…”

“I don’t—hey!”

“Let’s just go,” Kinich sighs, hoisting his bag over his shoulder. Aether pouts, but follows his teammates off the field. 

“Fine, but Xiao’s treating!”

/

Third Round Knockout is exactly the type of place Kinich imagines college students to like.

It sounds strange when he words it like that, considering he is a college student himself, but he means a different type of college student—the type that finds cheap, greasy pizza and boisterous laughter enticing. Or perhaps anyone who finds the showy, race car-themed decor attractive (just how much money did they spend on checkered flags?), or thinks that spending your Friday night listening to pop music from low-quality speakers is a good time.

He doesn’t mean it in a really bad way, of course. He’s friends with college students like that (like Aether), and that’s the only reason he finds himself stepping past the threshold. Still, after a long day of practice, he can’t deny that sitting down for some food sounds pretty good right about now, even if that food comes cheap and deep-fried.

“God, I’m fucking starving,” Aether moans, collapsing into one of the booths in exhaustion. He flips one of the plastic-lined menus over, scanning over the food options. “I seriously think if I have to wait another second to eat, I’ll die.”

Xiao slides into the booth next to him, brows furrowed as he types away at something on his phone. “Seems like you’re always somehow on the verge of dying.”

Though his stomach grumbles, Kinich doesn’t bother looking at the menu—the food here is as standard as it gets, burgers and fries that drip with grease and milkshakes that are basically entirely comprised of sugar. But he reasons that he probably deserves this after the day that he’s had. 

Everything had been nothing short of exhausting. He had conditioning in the morning, followed by three exams back to back, then headed to practice right after. Needless to say, his brain is running on the fumes of the black coffee he downed in between his second and third lecture.

“You good, man?” Aether asks, poking at Kinich’s hand. “You’ve been looking like a zombie all day.”

Kinich figures that a zombie is probably an apt description for how he looks right now, in his ragged hoodie and old sweats. He hadn’t been planning on a night out, after all, but he’s not one to care for fashion even on a good day.

He merely mumbles back an “I’m fine,” thoroughly disinterested in discussing what he’s endured in the last twenty-four hours. He presumes that that’s just the life of a university student like him. The athletic scholarship is good, and he does enjoy playing with his teammates, so he’ll rest and recover and do it all again tomorrow, just like he always does.

Xiao and Aether start bickering over something on the menu, so Kinich takes that opportunity to zone out.

He blinks tiredly, gaze wandering—the bright, multicolored decor is almost too much for his weary eyes. People are drinking and grinding to the music on the dance floor across the room, the bass of the music so loud that he can feel it vibrating under his feet.

Sighing, he pinches at the bridge of his nose, trying to avoid a migraine.

He shouldn’t have come today. His mental to-do list only grows longer, and staying home would’ve been a far more efficient use of his time. Perhaps a part of him had felt guilty for how busy he’s been in the past few weeks—it’s actually been quite a while since he sat down with his friends like this.

“Alright, Kinich, you lose!”

The sound of his name pulls him from the depths of his mind to find Aether and Xiao staring at him expectantly.

“What?”

Aether nods to the counter, crowded with a swathe of people. “You have to go order. You were last to nose goes.”

Nose goes? Kinich’s face scrunches in disbelief. Sometimes, he feels more like a kindergarten teacher than a soccer team captain.

“Are you four years old?”

Aether tilts his head, a challenge. “Are you rejecting the sanctity of nose goes?”

Maybe he doesn’t feel so guilty for being busy after all.

Desperate, Kinich looks to Xiao for support, but the other man shrugs, as if to say I can’t deal with him either. Arguing with Aether is a guaranteed headache, so Kinich merely groans, begrudgingly rising from his seat.

“Whatever. Just tell me what you want, then.”

He sighs as he shoves through the crowd, passing through sweaty limbs and sticky floors. No one seems to pay him any mind, and he takes a few accidental elbows to the ribs. God, he wants to throw up.

The actual line for the counter isn’t too long, luckily. There’s only one or two people in front of him. 

He checks over Aether and Xiao’s orders in their groupchat. Aether’s order is a list about a mile long, while Xiao simply wants a single combo meal. Typical.

He thinks on his own order a bit, and he’s midway through creating a mental list about the pros and cons of getting french fries versus onion rings when he looks up again to gauge the wait time. His breath hitches as he realizes two things:

He’s next in line.

He knows the people at the counter.

One of them is Childe, donned in a white t-shirt and a dark leather jacket.

Kinich knows who Childe is just like everyone else—with how much his name gets thrown around on this campus, he’d have to be an idiot not to. Being the star quarterback of the football team, he’s as close to a celebrity as one can get around here. Plus, they have some mutual friends, but Kinich doesn’t really consider Childe a friend, per say. They’re acquaintances at best.

But Kinich doesn’t really care about Childe—he doesn’t know him well, never has, probably never will, and he’s not one to worry about people outside of his concern. No, it’s not Childe that draws his attention at all; in fact, he’s in the way of it.

It’s the fact that Childe is talking to you.

Kinich sucks in a breath.

He blinks once, thinking it may just be his exhaustion playing tricks on him, but you’re still standing there, smiling up at the other man.

Though he’d known that you applied to this school, he never found out where you actually ended up going—you’d blocked him on everything post-graduation, after all. It seems like some sort of sick sign from the universe that you would be here right now.

You’re wearing the Third Round Knockout uniform, he notes dully—so you work here. But that still doesn’t explain why you’re smiling and laughing with Childe, looking entirely too happy with his company. Kinich has talked to the ginger before, and he’s not that funny. 

Childe turns at that moment, seemingly finished ordering his food, before he lights up in recognition.

“Ah, Kinich, what’s up?” he greets, patting him on the shoulder. “Hey, nice game the other day! You’re fast as hell.”

If he were anywhere else but here, Kinich might’ve actually appreciated Childe’s compliment. But right now, he can’t even remember what game he’s referring to; instead, he offers a dry, tight-lipped smile.

“Thanks.”

He peeks around Childe’s arm—you haven’t noticed him yet, too busy counting bills and stuffing them into the register. You’re halfway through a yawn when you call out to him.

“I can help the next person, please!”

Childe shoots him a grin, waving as he steps past him to leave, and suddenly Kinich feels overwhelmingly vulnerable. It feels endless, the drag of your gaze as it turns up to him, falling to his face. Pure shock paints your features.

Something unearths in his chest, kicking up with dust that stings at the corners of his eyes. 

They bloom there, a wealth of feelings that wrap like thorn-lined vines around his heartbeat. Regret speaks the loudest—it screams from where it sits, panging with familiarity at the sight of your face.

“K—Kinich,” you greet once you recover from your initial shock, a rasp. There’s an audible lump in your throat, voice reedy and thin. 

You look even more beautiful than he remembers. That’s all he can think as his brain force feeds him a series of memories—images of hazy sunsets and half-empty spray paint cans and secrets shared between chapped lips. His entire youth is nearly synonymous with your name.

His eyes draw to your neck, the bareness of it; it makes his heart ache.

You toy with the silver chain swinging at your throat, shyly staring down at your feet.

Almost in slow motion, your hand slinks up to your collarbone, reaching for something that isn’t there. It has Kinich’s eyes fluttering shut for a moment, almost painfully.

“Hi,” he starts, sound barely crawling from his throat. “It’s been a long time.”

He waits, but he doesn’t know what for. A change, in expression, in tone, in something, a sign that you remember what the two of you were, or perhaps what you could’ve been. But you’re still blankly staring at him like he’s a stranger.

“Can I help you?”

Kinich forgets about the food entirely. He just can’t get over how different you look, sound, and are. It’s a stupid realization—obviously you would’ve changed in the last three years. But somehow, he feels like he’s been the only one rooted in place all this time.

“Sir?” you repeat pointedly. “Can I help you?”

He utters your name once, soft, then inches forward, an instinct. “Listen, I’m sorry—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you interrupt smoothly, devoid of warmth. You back away, defenses up; you’d expected this from him, clearly. “I don’t really want or need it.”

And it hurts to hear that, that you don’t really want or need something from him. Because that always used to be the case, used to be your normal—clinging to each other, wanting and needing and having each other. And though he doesn’t like to live in the past, this is one thing that Kinich is unwilling to let go of.

“Can I…still try?” he starts, hesitant. “To apologize?”

The music still pulses in his veins, in his hands, in his chest—it echoes in his ears as he awaits your reply.

Deep down, he knows he shouldn’t do this. He’d lost any right to pursue you years ago. And he’s certainly not the type to make emotionally-charged confessions in public, but he sees you and he wonders if you still remember his favorite color.

It’s messing with his head.

“Why would you?” Your tone is biting, words sharp as they’re flung off your tongue. “No offense, but we haven’t known each other for years. I don’t see a point.”

And though you’re right, the thought pains him—there had been a time when he was the only one who knew every part of you, and you of him. But you’ve changed so much, you both have, and the evidence is standing before him.

Your eyes fill with frost. His mouth grows dry with regret.

“I know, but at that time, I—”

“You avoided me for months, Kinich,” you cut in quietly, thumbing at the edges of your sleeves. He knows that habit—you always do it when you’re nervous. “Forgive me for thinking that meant you wanted nothing to do with me.”

The bitterness leaks into your voice. You’re trying to be indifferent, but the resentment still feels raw.

And he deserves that, deserves this, he knows; he’s made a lot of mistakes when it comes to you. He more than anyone knows how much he fucked up, and if he could take it back, he would do so in a heartbeat. But he can’t, and your dull eyes and bare neck are evidence of that.

“You’re right,” he breathes, then swallows, gathering himself. “I’m sorry.”

You clear your throat, looking for something else to busy yourself with—anything to avoid eye contact. 

“You don’t have to be.”

Despite your words, the misery is written across your face, like you’re reliving every single moment of that day. And, of course, you have no way of knowing, but he wonders if you realize how often he relives it too.

“Now that we’ve graduated, I just thought you should know…”

Kinich feels completely out of his element, pinned in place.

He wonders what he even wants out of this whole interaction. Your anger? Your hatred? Would it have made him feel better than your disinterest? His fist clenches.

Say something. Don’t let it repeat itself.

It’s always been his vice—he doesn’t think he’s a stupid person, but he does think he’s a quiet one. And sometimes, that comes back to bite him in the worst moments. When he thinks back on the moments he’s shared with you, he can recall so many times that he could’ve said something. And maybe it wouldn’t have saved you both, but what if it would’ve?

You’re sighing in resignation, looking over his shoulder to call the next person when he speaks, hasty. 

“If you ever want to talk about what happened, we can. I can.”

It reeks of desperation, and he has half a mind to be embarrassed, but the feeling doesn’t surface. Instead, he catches a flicker of budding hope in your eyes, a wink of familiarity that has his heart slamming against his ribcage. 

Your lips form the shape of his name, and Kinich finds his breath.

“I like you, Kinich. A lot. For a while now. And, if you’ll have me, I’d like us to be together.”

“What’s going on here?”

Too focused on your expression, Kinich fails to notice the older man sneaking up behind you, a stern frown on his face and arms crossed. You cringe at the intrusion, already struck with a sense of foreboding. 

You whip around, hands drawn meekly to your chest.

“Sir,” you squeak out, a nervous giggle escaping your throat, “I was just—”

“We’ve already talked about this,” your manager hisses, a contrastingly serene smile on his face. “This would be your third strike.”

Despair creeps onto your face, and Kinich finds himself drawn forward, hand outstretched.

“Wait, sir, please. It was my fault. She was just—”

Your boss fixes Kinich with a sour glare, looking him up and down—his lip curls into disapproval when he sees the tattoo on his arm. 

“Don’t make excuses for your friend.”

Everyone around stares at the commotion—when Kinich glances back, Xiao and Aether are watching, wide-eyed.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t feel the same way.”

“You’ve had enough chances,” your manager starts, deceptively saccharine-sounding.

He looks between the two of you, spiteful. Kinich’s heart drops like a stone. 

“You’re officially fired.”

/

“Wow, you fucked up bad.”

The next day, Aether’s unhelpful commentary is nearly drowned out in the general noise of the quad. 

Fluffy clouds half-obscure the sun above, leaving a permeating warmth and a relaxing breeze. There’s an extensive crowd of students spread out across the grass, studying and laughing and chatting. It would be a beautiful, enjoyable day, if not for Kinich’s overwhelming guilt and the irritating sound of Aether scarfing down his lunch.

And while the blond’s remarks are unhelpful, they aren’t necessarily wrong. Recounting the whole event just makes him more aware of how idiotic he had been. Kinich rakes his fingers through his hair in frustration—he just can’t stop making mistakes when it comes to you.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” he admits, absentmindedly pulling at the blanket beneath him. “I just wanted to talk to her.”

After the incident, your manager had disappeared with you into the back, likely to work out the details of your termination. You threw him a last glance over your shoulder, eyes pouring with regret—whether it was regret that you had been interrupted, or regret that you had interacted at all, he isn’t sure.

“Oh, you talked to her alright,” Aether chirps, mouth full. Kinich’s face twists in disgust. “Talked her right out of financial stability.”

Lumine jerks an elbow into her brother’s ribs, ignoring his pained yelp. 

“What he means to say,” she starts, shooting her twin a poisonous glare, “is that you made a mistake, and you know it now. All you can do is apologize, or leave her alone if you think that would be best.”

Kinich thinks on that for a moment. Apologizing seems reasonable, but the laundry list of things he should apologize to you for seems to grow longer by the day. He’s not even sure you would hear him out for that long at this point.

Last night had given him a glimpse of hope, but your manager had ruined anything he had built up in that moment. 

And really, he should leave you alone. The guilt building and knotting in his chest is enough, enough that he knows that getting involved with you further would only lead to more heartbreak for both of you. He’s just not sure if he’s capable of letting you go again.

“I mean, no offense, but weren’t you the one who rejected her back then? And then, like…ghosted her?” Aether asks.

Lumine facepalms, thoroughly exhausted by trying to reel in her twin’s complete lack of decorum. It seems to be her full-time job at this point.

“It’s okay,” Kinich sighs, waving her off. “He’s right. I did.”

He’d been going through a lot back then, not that it had been a valid excuse. He’d been far too immature to be honest with you like you deserved. 

With a groan, Kinich shuts his laptop to fully focus on the topic at hand—he hasn’t been studying for a few minutes now anyway.

Lumine and Aether stare at him like they’re awaiting clarification. He shrugs, deflated.

“I was young and stupid. There’s no good explanation for it.”

“I don’t know if was is the right term,” Aether adds thoughtfully. “I mean, you did just get her fired, and that’s because—”

“—Aether.”

Lumine hisses through gritted teeth, and her twin chuckles, suddenly nervous.

“That’s because I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot and I’m going to stop talking now.”

Aether dives back into his chicken fried rice like a kicked puppy, pouting. Lumine glances over at Kinich, gauging the conflict written over his features. She sighs, smoothing her hair over her shoulder.

“Well, the choice is yours.”

If it were just up to him, he would chase after you and apologize endlessly. But he knows that his aren’t the only feelings in play here—if anything, yours matter more. So, he decides to leave it to fate.

He fishes into his bag with one hand, producing his wallet and shaking out a few coins. He holds one out for his friends to see.

“Heads, I apologize. Tails, I leave her alone.”

He swallows hard.

“Forever.”

He’s not sure if he truly means that quite yet, but he tells himself that he does. Steeling his resolve, he tosses the coin in the air. Aether and Lumine’s eyes grow wide as they follow its path, spinning and twisting before landing neatly on the ground.

“Kinich, do you think we’ll still know each other in five years? Ten years?”

“Of course we will.”

Kinich leans forward, peering down at the fallen Mora.

There’s a tinge of relief in his sigh.

Heads.

[captainsophiestark]

I Made You Breakfast

Kai Parker x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Summary: Kai's on his apology tour, and Y/N is his next stop after things didn't go too well with Damon or Bonnie

Word Count: 2,000

Category: Fluff, Humor, a little bit of Angst

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed to myself as I headed downstairs in my favorite pair of sweats, mentally making a list of everything I had to do today. It was an unfortunately long list, compounded by the latest supernatural drama, which my friends insisted on dragging me into. Bonnie had finally made it home from the prison world, thankfully, but that didn't mean any of the drama in our lives had gone away. In fact, it had almost doubled, with news of Damon's mother floating around in another prison world somewhere. I got halfway through an eyeroll at the memory of everything going on lately when I stopped dead in my tracks.

I could smell bacon, eggs, and toast wafting up towards me from the kitchen. Someone was here, in my house, cooking breakfast. And with everything going on lately, I knew for a fact it wasn't one of my friends.

I glanced around, grabbing a stake off the nearest end table. No vampire should have been able to get into my house unless they were a friend I'd already let in, but I'd had enough near-death experiences despite that fact that I was constantly prepared.

I crept towards the kitchen, trying to listen for any signs of trap or trouble. All I could hear was a faint clinking of plates. If someone had seriously broken into my house, why the hell were they just hanging out in my kitchen making breakfast?

I got my answer a second later when I burst through the door, going for the element of surprise, and found none other than Kai Parker standing before me.

"Oh, hey!" he said, jumping and spinning to face me with wide eyes. "You're up!"

"...Yup. And... you're here. In my kitchen. Making breakfast."

"Yeah! I hope you like it. Here, let me get your plate. I thought I'd have a few more minutes."

With that, he turned to the stove and starting scooping scrambled eggs and toast onto a plate. I just watched him, not moving an inch.

"Kai?"

"Yeah?"

"What the hell are you doing in my house?"

He turned back around to look at me again, his eyes wide and the plate half-finished in his hand. After a moment, his expression morphed into a sheepish grin. I just blinked at him, my expression unchanging.

"Well, after I merged with Luke, I started getting all these... feelings." He said the word like somebody else might say 'zits' or 'rash'. "And one of those has been guilt, for some of the stuff I put you through. Or I guess, your friends, mostly. I tried apologizing to Bonnie earlier, and... it didn't go well."

His expression darkened, and I frowned. But a moment later, the clouds apparently cleared, and Kai fixed me with a beaming smile again.

"So I thought I'd try again with you. In the Prison World, I saw Damon making Bonnie breakfast all the time, and she seemed to really like that. So I figured you might, too."

I just stared at him for a few long moments without saying anything. I turned my options over and over in my mind, trying to get my still half-asleep brain to make a rational choice. I probably should've been incredibly freaked out that Kai was here at all, but I'd actually had a few positive interactions with him even before the whole merge thing, and had kind of started to like him. Or, at least, started to think he had some ally potential, despite other things he did. We'd even bonded over music taste and his new fascination with social media, and he'd tried to help Sheriff Forbes, although it hadn't necessarily been out of the goodness of his heart. For some reason, I just couldn't muster the fear or anger I probably should've been feeling when I looked at him in my house. Finally, I sighed, my mind made up. No reason to try to force bad feelings when they wouldn't come on their own, right?

"Thanks, Kai," I said, actually meaning it as I moved over to the dining table. "Aside from the fact that you broke into my house to do it... that's actually pretty sweet."

He beamed at me, and I found myself returning his smile. He turned back around to finish making my plate, and I shook my head. This was absolutely ridiculous, but I couldn't say I minded very much.

"Here you go!" he said, setting the plate down in front of me with a big smile. He didn't move away, just standing off to the side and watching me expectantly. I picked up my fork, but didn't take my eyes off Kai.

"...Aren't you gonna join me?"

"Oh! Right. You know, I've been practicing how I was going to do this in my head all morning, and now that I'm actually doing it it's like I completely forgot everything I was planning to do. That's weird, right?"

I shrugged. "I mean, sounds like a normal part of being nervous to me."

He nodded emphatically as he returned to the table and sat across from me with a breakfast plate of his own.

"All these new... emotions from Luke have been, like, super weird. I don't know how you all deal with these all the time."

"Eh, yeah, they can be annoying sometimes. It gets easier with practice though, and I'd say on the whole they're a positive experience."

Kai nodded thoughtfully, taking a bite of his eggs as his gaze wandered around my kitchen. I took a few bites of my own food, and I had to admit, he was a surprisingly good cook.

"So..." I started. "Was this it for the apology? It's a great breakfast, but usually an apology has a little more attached..."

"Oh!" Kai's attention snapped back to me. "No no, this isn't it. I was planning to do the other part of the apology while we ate breakfast."

"Makes sense. Go for it."

He cleared his throat and shifted around in his seat, then met my eyes before hesitating again. I tried to look encouraging as I ate my eggs, and after a moment, he nodded to himself and continued.

"I'm sorry for trying to kill your friend, and testing out my power on her. And that I couldn't save your other friend's mom, even though I really couldn't do anything about that. I still... I still feel bad. And honestly, I'm mostly sorry for everything I've done that hurt you, even if it was indirectly. I... I actually really like you, and so, uh... I don't want you to hate me. I keep getting this stabbing pain in my chest when I think about it... or when I think about that time I saw you crying over Bonnie..."

He trailed off, staring at the table instead of me, apparently lost in thought. After a moment though, he shook his head and cleared his throat, looking back up to meet my stare again. His blue eyes were wider than usual, his eyebrows pulling together, and he looked to be in actual distress for maybe the first time I'd ever seen, at least when his life wasn't being threatened.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I promise not to do anything to hurt you again. Will you give me a second chance?"

The corner of my mouth quirked up in a smile, especially at the rare senserity in his tone. I knew my friends would have quite a few things to say about this decision, but I didn't let myself think about that. At least not right now.

I sighed. "Kai, despite the fact that you broke into my house, I'm going to believe you about this whole 'turning over new leaf' thing. I... I'd be lying if I said I didn't like you too. So, if you really mean what you're saying about not hurting me or the people I care about anymore?"

He nodded so fast I was actually a little worried about him.

"Completely serious. Cross my heart and hope to die. I'm ready to join the Mystic Falls Scooby Doo team for good."

I smiled, laughing a little and shaking my head.

"Well, okay then. I can't promise anybody else on the team will be quite as easy to convince as me, but... I forgive you, Kai. I'm happy to see you like this. And, by the way, you make some very good eggs and toast."

"Thanks. I had to get good at cooking, you know, alone in the Prison World." A shadow passed over his face again, until I reached across the table and lightly rested my hand on top of his. Then, his face lit up like the sun. "And thanks for giving me a second chance. I promise, you won't regret it."

I wasn't totally sure I believed that, but I decided not to say so. Instead, I smiled and gave his hand a little squeeze before pulling back.

After a moment of silence where I could see Kai vibrating with the desire to say whatever he was holding back, he finally blurted out the other thing he'd apparently been planning to ask me this morning.

"So... I might be a little rusty about how all this works, or if it's changed since the eighties, but... would you want to go out with me sometime? Like on a date?"

I smiled, then buried my face in my hands. My friends would kill me if I said yes to this, but despite myself, I really, really wanted to.

"What's wrong?" Kai asked. I shook my head and looked up at him again.

"Nothing, Kai, I just... ugh, my friends are really not going to like this."

He smiled. "Does that mean you're saying yes?"

I took a deep breath and let it out, then shrugged and matched his smile with one of my own.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think it does. What the hell, right?"

"That's great! I was thinking we could go do karaoke? I've always loved karaoke. I got good at it when I was passing time in the Prison World."

"I have to warn you, I am very much not good at karaoke. But I'll still sing my heart out with you anyway, if you want to go!"

"Perfect! We can go tonight." I laughed, and Kai's expression immediately dropped. "Is that okay? Do you not want to go tonight?"

"No, Kai, I do. It's a little fast, honestly, but I don't mind. Why wait?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking. So... should I pick you up? Around seven? We could get dinner first, and then go."

"I think that sounds like a great plan, Kai," I smiled at him, which he immediately returned. A moment later, though, his hand shot up to clutch at his chest.

"Ugh, what is... what is happening to me? Why does my heart feel like it's about to explode?"

"That's probably excitement, Kai, or butterflies, which are like positive nerves. I'm feeling them too. It's because we're looking forward to going out together tonight."

Kai made a face. "This is what people were talking about when they said they got butterflies? This is terrible." I hid a laugh behind my hand, and Kai's eyes snapped up to mine. "Wait. You said you were feeling it too?"

I nodded, and Kai's expression immediately changed to a wide grin.

"So you're excited, too?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am."

He nodded, the smile staying on his face as he dug in to his eggs again, glancing at me between almost every bite. I just shook my head, a smile on my own face all the same. This was going to be an adventure, going on a date with Kai Parker, and I knew my friends were going to want to murder me for it. But I couldn't totally bring myself to care.

Despite some pretty rocky history, I had a weirdly good feeling about Kai, from the moment he'd started his apology speech this morning. And so far, I'd never been wrong when I trusted my gut for stuff like this, even when it led me into karaoke. I had a good feeling it was going to be right about Kai Parker, too.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[korcariqueen]

A Second Shot ~ Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

Content - Worst! Wolverine needs to take a break from the chaos of the apartment and goes to find a bar. Lucky for him he walks in to the one you work at.

A/N - Thank you so much for the love already. All the likes, comments and reposts have been so encouraging. I'm gonna go ahead with writing a full series. Like I said before this will be more adult 18+. Ya know sex, violence, swearing. All the good stuff 😂 stay tuned ❤️❤️❤️

Hi 👋 this is my first fic. Please comment if you like or have improvements. I have an idea to make this in to a full series that would be more 🌶 adult. Let me know if any of you are interested in reading that. Warning: Slight swearing

Logan needed to get out of the apartment. Wade and Peter had started to brainstorm the rebirth of X-Force 2.0, which Wade promised would be at least 40% less lethal than its predecessor. And for unknown reasons the ‘brainstorming’ included multiple whiteboards and creating a practice plane to ‘stick the landing unlike last time’. The ensuing DIY project caused Laura to barge out of her room, screaming at Wade about the noise. The merc with the mouth then thought it was wise to make a ‘menies’ joke. Not surprisingly Laura launched herself on the man, claws out.

I’m too sober for this.

That was enough for Logan to grab his leather jacket and head for the door. Logan walked down the busy New York streets. It was late September, the night was chilly with light rain splattering on the sidewalk. Logan was surprised by how lively the streets were for the time of night, before remembering it was a Friday. He wondered how long it had been since he was sober enough to remember the day of the week. He continued down the street, silently taking in the bustle. Taxi drivers were hitting the horns like they were paid by the noise. Young couples were making out in darkened alleys, lost in their own world. Logan smirked to himself. God when was the last time he did that? He shook the urge to wander down memory lane. He passed a few bars, neon lights flickering invitingly. He peered in. Bachelorette party. Could be fun but he just wanted a quiet drink tonight. Another. Karaoke night. Logan winced at the off tune, drunken singing. Heightened hearing had its downsides. Every bar and pub seemed packed with drunken revellers, ready to enjoy their night and invite the weekend with a killer hangover.

Logan was ready to give up and head back, knowing full well that Wade and Laura had probably destroyed the apartment, when he glanced across the street. A small bar, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the street. ‘Sammy’s Bar’, adorned the sign above the door. Logan focused his hearing. There was definitely people in there but it sounded quiet enough. He crossed the road and walked down a few steps to the wooden door, before pushing it open. 

He stepped inside, the smell of hard liquor wafted in the air. The place was a decent size, something you wouldn’t be able to tell from the street. The space was dimly lit, a few old looking sconces dotted the far left wall above booth seating. A few people sat there, engrossed in hushed, alcohol soaked conversations. Small round table seating were dotted around the open middle section of the bar, their patrons loudly arguing over politics as the few ancient looking chandeliers above swayed slightly with the roar of traffic outside. On the far right stood the solid wood bar with a few high stools lining it, with a couple of people sitting watching a boxing match on the TV in the right corner. The bar had a few beer taps, the usual stuff and a few European beers. Logan rolled his eyes before catching the well stocked liquor on the wall. This will have to do. Logan walked to a vacant stool by the bar, next to a greying older man nursing his drinking and quietly reading a book. Shrugging off his jacket and lightly shaking off the droplets of rain that clung still to it. 

“Be there in sec.” called a voice from one of the tables. Logan grunted in response as he sat at the bar. He propped his forearms on the worn wood, interlocking his fingers. Bar must’ve been here a while judging by the wear of the wood. His eyes began to trace the scratched names on the surface. “Josh was here”, “For a good time call Chloe” “Kenny hearts Lisa”. He heard the hurried footsteps of the bartender rounding the bar to stand in front of him.

“So what can I getcha?,” came the cheerful voice. 

Logan lifted his head, “A double of..” His voice caught in his throat as his eyes widened slightly. You stood there with a bright smile adoring your face, head slightly cocked to the side. You looked to be in your late 20s, early 30s if he had to guess.Your hair was up in a high ponytail and you wore a black t-shirt that hugged your figure. Logan glimpsed your slightly loose jeans. Comfortable for working in a bar. 

“Ahem” Logan cleared his throat. “A double of Jamesons, neat. Thanks.”

“No problem. Coming right up.” You flashed him another stunning smile.

Oh fuck.

You pulled out a small step to help you grab the whiskey from the shelf. Your t-shirt riding up slightly showing off the small of your back and waist. Logan wondered what it would feel like to grip your waist as he- 

“Pipe down old man” Logan mentally scolded himself. You hoped for the step stool, whiskey in hand and began to pour his drink. You chatted with the, what he assumed to be, regulars sitting beside him; laughing and commenting on the match they were watching. 

God, even your laugh was beautiful.

“There you are”, you said as you placed Logan’s drink in front of him.

“Thanks.” He managed to muster without his voice cracking like a kid whose balls hadn’t dropped. He took a slow sip, letting the warming amber liquid melt his day’s stress away. 

“So I haven’t seen you around. We don’t get many new faces here.” You offered idle chat as you cleaned the bar around you.

“Urm no. Not been here before.” Logan offered in response.

“New in the neighbourhood?”

“Yeah you could say that” You have no idea.

“Well, welcome to our neck of the woods. Umm?” you asked.

“Logan. Thanks. Sammy?”

“Oh no.” You laughed, placing your hand on your chest. “ No Sammy’s my boss and owner of this fine establishment. I’m [Y/N]” you offered your hand to shake. Logan took it, his giant hands enveloping yours. He could have sworn he heard your breath hitch slightly at the contact and feel your heartbeat a little faster. You quickly retract your hand, Logan smirking slightly at your sudden awkwardness.

“Well Logan I’m happy you found us.”

“Yeah, most of the places ‘round here got too many people. Way too loud.” Logan said as he took another sip of his drink.

“Yeah. That’s why most of the old timers like it here…” Your hand flew to your open mouth as you realised what you had said. “I mean not you obviously.” you stuttered as you tried to recover your accidental insult. “I mean like the older guys like a quieter ambience you know like Leonard is always complaining about how those places you can’t hear yourself think” You are tripping on your words as your brain goes into overdrive. “Not saying you have the same issues as a 65 year old man!” Logan couldn’t help but laugh at your attempts to salvage your blunder. 

“I’m older than I look, darlin,” he says with a coy smile, glass still hovering at his lips.

“What? No you can’t be much older than me. Definitely under forty!” you stuttered out, still frazzled.

Logan's smile spread into a toothy grin. He was enjoying how flustered you were. 

“Hey [Y/N]! Another one when you’re done flirting with the new guy.” A man on the far side of the bar shouted, holding his empty pint glass.

“Shut up Leonard!” you yelled back. The man, Leonard, laughed in response. “Well I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough. I’ll leave you to your drink, Logan.” You gave a quick embarrassed smile as you hurried off to see to the other patrons. 

Logan let out a small laugh as could hear you scolding the man he presumed was Leonard. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Oh come on I’ve never seen you get all jittery before. Besides, you looked like you were drowning out there. What the hell did you even say to him” 

“Nothing! Just drop it or I’ll tell Martha you were here last Thursday when you were ‘working late at the office’.” you snapped back, glaring at the man. Leonard put his hands up in surrender, quietly conceding. 

[Y/N] quickly glanced over at Logan to see if witnessed the exchange. Logan kindly dropped his head, pretending to be fascinated by his glass. You let out a small relieved sigh, before leaving the bar to clear some tables. Logan lifted his head back up, making eye contact with Leonard across the bar. The man gave him a wide smile, lifting up his glass in a silent cheers, clearly enjoying how flustered he made their favourite bartender. Logan mirrored the action with his whiskey glass before taking another sip. 

The old man in the stool next to Logan began to stand up, closing his book and placing a few dollars on the to pay his tab. Grabbing his coat, he called out to you, “I’m off now [Y/N].” 

You turned, smiling at the man, “Okay Kenny. You take care. Bring Lisa next time, I miss her.” 

“I will. Night” The rest of the bar called out their goodbyes to the man as he finished putting on his coat. He began to walk past Logan before he stopped. Logan shifted slightly in his seat toward the man.

In a hushed tone “She works here most nights.” He flashed Logan a knowing smile and wink before donning his flat cap and walking out the bar. 

Logan couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head. Yeah this will definitely need to be a regular spot, especially if it means being served by a certain beautiful bartender. 

[irkimatsu]

Hmm, anything for sexually deprived Husk who snaps at you but feels bad so opens up? You offer a hand, but only that unless he wants more? 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🎉

Anon, I am so sorry if you didn't want breeding kink, because what came out of my cursed hands is breeding kink.

Husk goes into a rut, Reader offers to help him out, Husk quickly comes unglued. About 2.5k words. Seriously NSFW. Breeding kink, mating press, all that good nasty furry shit.

---

Husk has seemed especially agitated these past few days.

It’s not like he’s ever been the friendliest resident of the hotel, not by a long shot, but normally that manifests in him offering terse responses and no-nonsense advice. In fact, he seemed to have developed a bit of a liking for you. He enjoyed bantering with you over drinks, and even smiled in your presence a few times, a real rarity for him. Recently, however, he seems to be outright avoiding you. He won’t sit near you during hotel bonding activities, and when you go up to the bar, he silently pours your usual drink and seems to be waiting for you to finish it and leave. He hasn’t even looked you in the eye in a while.

Did you do something wrong?

It’s the third night of Husk’s attitude, and if anything, he seems worse off than ever. He’s making a horrendous racket as he digs through shelves, slamming bottles and glasses onto the counter.

“Where the fuck did I put it?!” he growls to himself, before finally finding a black, gold-trimmed bottle at the back of a shelf. “Fuckin’ finally…” He twists the cap off of the bottle, then tilts his head back while he gulps down as much of the bottle as he can in one go. He finally stops his gulp with a heavy exhale, then shakes his head. “That’s the stuff…”

“Husk…?” you ask as you take a seat at the bar.

“What,” he growls as he slams his liquor bottle onto the bar in front of you. His fur is bristling, and his ears are pinned back.

“S-sorry,” you stammer out, immediately regretting opening your mouth. “I was just wondering if you were okay…”

“Do I look okay?” he asks before taking another long swig from his bottle.

“...I guess not.” You watch him drink, wondering what could have possibly happened to make him this moody for this long. “Did Alastor do something?”

“For once, no,” he says after pulling the bottle away from his lips. He’s still not looking at you. Whatever he’s looking at doesn’t seem interesting; he seems to have chosen that direction simply because it’s not yours.

“...did I do something?”

His silence isn’t encouraging.

“If I did, I can’t make up for it if you won’t tell me what it was. It’s been three days, Husk.”

Husk groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose between two of his claws. “It’s nothing you did… it’s something stupid. Just forget about it.”

“You’ve heard me talk about stupid stuff all the time,” you say. “Aren’t we friends? Can’t you at least tell me why you’re avoiding me?”

He needs to drain his liquor bottle before he can make up his mind. “...yeah. Okay. I’ll talk. But only to you. If anyone else walks in, this conversation is over.”

“Of course.”

He grabs another identical bottle from the cabinet and takes a seat next to you. “When I died, it didn’t surprise me when I woke up in Hell. What I didn’t expect was waking up as a cat.”

You’re not sure where he’s going with this as he pauses to open his new liquor bottle, but you’ll hear him out.

“I still had all my human memories, my human personality… but there was still something different in my brain. Different instincts. Stuff I couldn’t suppress no matter how irrational I knew it was, like wanting to climb and scratch things, or suddenly being afraid of water.”

“Or like chasing laser pointers?” you say with a smirk.

“That was one time,” he answers, not at all amused. Your punishment is for him to take a particularly long swig before he’ll continue talking. “And one of those instincts is… well… mating.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Every once in a while, I need it bad. I know it’s stupid! Why is that instinct even there?! Sinners can’t have kids, and even if I could, why would I want to bring new life into this shithole?! But the thoughts still take over. I need to mate. I need to have kits. It only lasts for a few days, but it’s frustrating. I can barely think about anything else.”

“I’m guessing you… can’t take care of it yourself?” You know it’s an obvious question. He’s been here for decades; if he could take care of it himself, he would have figured it out by now.

“I actually can, normally,” he says, to your surprise. “I can feel it coming, take a day or two off, maybe get some toys, stay in my room and ride it out. But sometimes…” He trails off and looks away from you again.

“Sometimes…?”

“Normally that instinct isn’t directed anywhere. I just wanna mate, I don’t really care with who. Led to some… interesting nights as an Overlord. But sometimes… someone catches my eye. I don’t know what it is. Does that person have to be someone special? Do I just have to be in their proximity the instant it hits? But whatever it is… that person ends up being all I can think about.”

Your face grows hot over what he’s implying.

“And when that happens, it’s fucking miserable. Nothing short of being with that person will make me feel any better. Trying to take care of it myself just makes it worse. Just reminds me that they aren’t there with me…”

“What if that person didn’t mind helping you out…?” you ask, testing the waters.

He raises one of his large eyebrows. “You… do realize who I’m losing my shit over this time, right?”

“I figured as soon as you mentioned someone catching your eye,” you admit. “It’s not like you’d wouldn’t tell me about it if it was someone else. And if there’s anything I can do to help…”

“What are you gonna do? Jerk me off until I can finally get some fuckin’ sleep?” He laughs coldly at his own joke before finishing his second bottle, and as he sips, he realizes you aren’t protesting. “...you’re fuckin’ serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I like you, Husk.”

“I couldn’t take advantage of you like that.”

“You’re not taking advantage. I’m curious about you, myself. Just for a bit, to see how it feels for us both?”

It takes him a moment to think, and you can’t imagine his screaming instincts making it easy to turn down your offer. “All right. Fine. But if I do anything you don’t want me doing, I give you full permission to beat the shit out of this stupid cat body.”

—

Husk isn’t wasting any time as soon as you get up to his room. Within seconds, he’s stripped of his pants and underwear. You can’t help but stare as his already-erect cock is revealed; it’s quite thick, and covered in curious looking bumps. Husk is panting, already struggling to catch his breath.

“Okay. Just a handjob,” he says as he sits on the edge of the bed. “Just once, maybe twice if we both wanna keep going. You don’t owe me more than that. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Husk, it’s fine. I want to do this with you, I promise,” you assure him as you take a seat next to him. Normally you’d warm up a partner with some kisses and cuddles, but given the way his face is flushed, you don’t think he has the patience for that. Instead, you go right for the prize, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock.

Husk instantly hisses through his teeth as he jerks his hips up. “Fuck, that’s it…” His tip is already leaking precum down his shaft and onto your fist. You lightly pump his cock, adjusting easily enough to the small, rough barbs that line it. His rapidly building precum makes it even easier to glide your hand against them. Within seconds, his eyes are starting to glaze over. 

“Can I hold you?” you ask.

“I mean… if you want…” he says as he jerks up again. “Fuck… that’s better already…”

You wrap your free arm around his shoulders and pull him against you. His body is so heated with need right now… you can only hope you’re helping to alleviate that need, even if only slightly. You nuzzle your head against the soft fur on his neck, and he purrs in satisfaction.

“Mmm… babe…”

He’s never called you that before, but you like it.

He wraps his arms around you in turn, burying his face into the top of your head. “Damn, you smell good…”

You grip him harder, and he gasps and squeezes you tighter.

“Oh god…” He starts peppering the top of your head with rapid kisses, seemingly unaware of himself. “You’re doing so good, baby…”

You could easily get used to this rhythm, working him up to a climax while held tight in his arms…

“I want more.” He grips at the back of your shirt as he pants. “Want more… want you… wanna mate…” He kisses you again as he tugs at your clothes. “Wanna mate… wanna mate…”

You turn your face up so that his kisses catch your mouth instead. This doesn’t stop him from kissing you. He groans against your lips as he presses further against you, his body trembling. “Want you, baby… want you…” he whispers against your lips.

“Take me,” you whisper back.

He pulls your hand away from his cock so he can seat you in his lap, leaving you free to return his embrace as he kisses you. You lean in deeply to the kiss, letting his rough tongue caress your own, as he keeps tugging on your clothes. You only break the kiss for as long as it takes for you to get your top off in one piece. He slides your pants down off your ass, and groans as he palms your cheeks.

“So fuckin’ hot…”

The instant you’re naked, he turns to pin you to the bed, landing your head directly on the pillows. He moves quickly, squatting above you and holding up your legs so your thighs are pressed against his. The whole time, he can’t stop muttering to himself.

“Want you, baby, want you…”

You cry out as in one swift thrust downward, his cock fills you to the hilt, his hips flush with yours.

“Want you… want you…” His irises are blown wide as he stares down at you. “Want you…”

You smile reassuringly up at him as you fold your hands behind his neck. “I want you, too.”

You don’t know if it’s your words or your touch that set him off, but either way, he’s launched immediately into a frenzied pace, thrusting down into you as if his life depends on it. It’s a rough way to start, but you adjust easily enough to his pace and to the barbs scraping your walls. His claws are tearing at his pillows, and he’s growling and panting, as if there’s no human thought left in his head.

He’s fucking hot like this.

“You’re… gonna look so good…” he growls as he keeps thrusting. “...when you’re filled…with my kits…”

“Fill me, Husk…!” you gasp out. His tail lashes as he fucks into you even harder.

“Have my kits… have my kits…!” His speech is becoming more choppy, his thrusts more erratic. “Have- want- fuck-”

As his cock throbs inside you, you pull him down for another kiss. This seems to be what pushes him over the edge, as he slams deep inside you and immediately lets loose. His cum fills you deep, your current position preventing anything from leaking out.

“Fuck…” he groans, just barely pulled backed from you kiss. “C’mon… take it…” He keeps thrusting, pushing his cum as deep inside you as he can. “Take all of it… you gotta have kits for me…”

“I will,” you promise before kissing him again. He relaxes against you, comparatively; his body is still hot to the touch, his cock still hard inside you, but at least he’s breathing a little easier.

As he pulls back from the kiss, he looks down at you through dazed, half-lidded pupils, his tail’s swaying now a lot slower. “Beautiful…” he murmurs with a laugh before kissing you again. “You’re gonna have kits with me… I’m so glad…”

You don’t have the heart to ruin his fantasy right now. You’re sure his mind will clear it out any second, anyway.

“Babe…” he whispers as he strokes your face. He smiles, and his cock twitches inside you. “Can I do that again? I wanna make sure…”

—

Your hips are so sore as you wake up in Husk’s bed. Just how many times did you let him fill you? You lost track after the third. It’s hard to keep your head on straight with a beast pumping you full of cum over and over again.

You know he would have stopped if you asked him to… and that’s why you never asked.

You look over to see Husk sprawled out on his stomach on his side of the bed, snoring loudly. You can’t help but smile; he’s so handsome when he’s asleep. If you had to pick a resident of the hotel to wake up next to like this, he would have always been your choice, no questions asked.

You spend some time stroking the soft fur on his head, paying special attention to his ears and cheeks. It takes him a while to finally stir.

“Why do I feel like I got hit by a truck?” he grumbles as he tries to push himself up, before quickly giving up and letting himself drop back down to the bed. “What happened last night?”

“Good morning, Husk,” you greet him, voice a lot more cheerful than you really feel. You wouldn’t mind sleeping for a few more hours, and it doesn’t seem like Husk would object to that idea.

“What the-” He turns and stares blankly at you for a few seconds, as if not quite comprehending what he’s seeing. “...was that real?”

“You mean, you fucking me and begging me to have kits for you?” you say as you stroke his ear again. “It was real. Thank you, Husk.”

Husk groans as he grabs another pillow and sandwiches his head between two of them, apparently trying to smother himself. “What the fuck was I saying last night?! Of course I don’t want kits! We just barely met! What the fuck!”

“Husk, it’s okay,” you assure him as you take the top pillow from him. “It was just a fantasy, right? And I enjoyed it.”

“We just barely met,” he repeats. “And I said all that shit to you already.”

“Did it make you feel better?” you ask.

Husk hums in thought. “Well, my brain isn’t screaming at me to start fucking you anymore…”

“Then it worked,” you said.

“But now you know what I’m like when my brain goes stupid on me,” he continues. “So I bet that won’t happen again.”

“Of course it will,” you assure him. “I told you, I enjoyed it. And next time you start feeling like that… I’d rather you asked me than someone else.”

He stares at you in what seems to be disbelief. “So… you know I’m a creep, but… we’re still friends?”

You can’t help but laugh. “Maybe a little more than friends, after something like that.”

Thankfully, that got him to smile. “Okay… just don’t tell anyone what just happened.”

Given how loud you two were, it’s probably a little too late.

“And maybe sometime… we can do that when I’m not a horny idiot. I have a softer side, too, I swear…”

You stroke his cheek and kiss him. “Can’t wait to see it. “

[spotsandsocks]

Hiiii Spotty 💕💕💕

🎅+calm

-❤️🪐

Never know what’s gonna happen when I start these- wasn’t expecting this but here we are we get what we get 😆 I’m not in charge of the words the words are in charge of me 😘 444 words of silliness 💚

“Just…stay calm. Ok?”

From his spot against the wall Eddie watches Buck approach his brother in law cautiously as if he’s afraid he might bolt. He might actually, judging by the look on his face.

“Calm! You want me to stay calm!”

Chimney's voice is… well, shrill is probably the right word. Eddie tucks his shirt back in, trying not to feel too awkward about it. It’s not really their fault. People should make more noise when they walk around corners.

“After … after …” Chimney’s hand waves in the general direction of where he’d seen what he’d seen.

It’s not even like they’d gotten very far. Clothes were still mostly where they were supposed to be. Chimney’s just being dramatic.

“God!” The older man scrubs at his face. “ I need to go scrub my eyeballs!”

Honestly the dramatics, it’s hard not to laugh but Buck isn’t taking being caught too well so he refrains but he does throw a mildly snarky comment into the situation.

“You didn’t even see anything.”

The glare he gets is actually quite impressive. Chim stares hard and speaks slowly, regret in every word.

“I saw enough.” Pointing up he adds, “Mistletoe is no excuse for this!”

Chim sounds disgusted and it’s just too much, Eddie’s snort of laughter breaks free. Honestly,all they were doing was making out against the wall, as per the tradition with mistletoe, they hadn’t even got to the really good stuff yet. Chim’s lucky he didn’t catch them in the showers at the station last week. Then he would have had an eyeful! Eddie smiles at the memory. At least this time there’s snuck off to what should have been a quiet corner of Maddie and Chim’s backyard.

Chim’s finger is waving in the air, “It’s one thing to know you two are a thing but it’s utterly unacceptable to have to see it with my own eyes! You’re paying for my therapy. I mean it.”

Walking backwards, Chim points again, this time right at Buck.

“And you! Put those away.”

Buck’s blush is adorable as he starts to button up his shirt hiding his chest from view which in Eddie’s opinion is a shame.

Chimney shudders then disappears back into the house. Alone again Buck turns back to face him with a grimace.

“Oops!”

Eddie has to bite his lip not to laugh again. He’d never imagined he’d enjoy sneaking around with Buck so much but he does. He likes it a lot. Even Chimney’s trauma isn’t going to stop him which he proves by reaching for his boyfriend and correcting the unfortunate situation of his buttoned shirt as quickly as possible.

[talaok]

The cheating

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You misinterpret a situation and think that Joel is cheating on you.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, misunderstanding *not proofread*

| Request |

"where's Joel?"

"I'm happy to see you too Ellie" you joked, easing her backpack off her shoulders.

"No, I just mean, he usually picks me up from school" she explained

"He was busy today" 

"doing what? What's more important than me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"first of all, I love the way you think, never change it, second off all, I don't really know, he went out in a rush"

"He didn't tell you?"

"no, not really"

"oh I'm gonna have a field day scolding him about not declaring where he's going like he wants me to do"

"he does that because he loves you"

"yeah, well, it's time he gets a sip of his own love" she air-quoted the last word, making you smile.

"you little demon" you chuckled, pulling her closer as you started walking off.

"what the fuck?" you exclaimed, as you swung her backpack on your shoulders "What the fuck do you have in here?"

She looked up at you, a malicious glint in her eyes

"Have you ever heard of books?"

__ __ __

"So how was school?" you asked, as you rounded a corner to get onto the main street.

The wind was blowing but the sun was up in the sky, resulting in the perfect temperature.

The pebbles under your feet sounded with each step as the commune's buildings started surrounding you.

"useless, as usual," Ellie grumbled, her tone scarily matching her dad's. 

"oh c'mon, I'm sure you learned some interesting things"

"nope"

You glared at her "Did you at least have some fun?"

A smile crossed her face "That I did" she said, "Me and Dina found a dead frog!"

"ew! gross!" you grimaced "You call that fun?!"

She laughed "I do, it was so soft and... sticky" She touched her fingers like the feelings still lingered on them, and you watched with more than a bit of terror as her eyes sparkled at the memory.

It was at times like this you wondered just how much she had taken from Joel.

"I'm gonna puke" you commented, making her snort 

"Relax we didn't do anything bad, Dina insisted we gave it a funeral"

"thank god" you breathed a sigh of relief "That poor thing,"

"We buried it under a tree and gave speeches and everything, it was really moving"

"What did you say?" you asked, as you surpassed the refectory

"You know, the usual stuff" she shrugged "How good of a frog she was, how she'll be deeply missed yadda yadda yadda"

"of course" you chuckled "the usual stuff"

She smiled too now "I'm fucking starving" she moaned

"language" you reminded her, and as usual, got in return the same scowl that told you: first just how hypocritical that was coming from you, and second, that she was never gonna listen to you, and you both knew it.

"Why?" you ignored her look "Didn't you eat?"

"Today was vegetable loaf day" she responded like that was enough of an explanation.

"So what? That sounds good"

"it may sound good, but when you get that green goo on your plate I promise you're gonna change your mind"

"goo?" you made a face

"Yes. Goo." she repeated, "They say Ms. Meril dumps all the rotten vegetables into a pot and then adds a special ingredient, that I personally believe to be..."

You had stopped listening to her a while ago as your eyes stared at the image in front of you.

You would have recognized that hair from a mile away.

He was there. Joel was there.

And not alone.

Your eyes fully focused on the man and woman in front of the pub.

You could see they were talking, and not just that.

Her hand was on his chest, as she stood so close to him they could probably taste each other's breaths.

You couldn't see his face, Joel's face, your boyfriend's face, but what you could very well see was that he wasn't pushing her away or protesting in any other way.

If you hadn't known any better you would have thought they were about to kiss.

And just then, you realized that you did, in fact, not know any better. 

You felt your heart speed up, as your feet slowed down, unconsciously coming to a stop.

That's why he had to leave in a rush?

To go fuck another woman?

As much as you felt the rage boiling inside of you like a fire, what really prevailed was the pain of the realization.

You stood there, watching them, as tears clogged your throat.

So much for I love you

So much for I was lost before you

You could physically feel your stomach twist and turn and suddenly you were nauseous.

All this time, you thought, and he's cheating on me

"Hey, you ok?" Ellie's voice was distant, muffled behind the wave of emotions coming at you.

When you didn't respond, she followed your line of sight, still firmly pointed at the pair.

"Oh fuck" she said quietly, making everything worse.

You had secretly wished she would have seen something else, given you an explanation, and laughed at how crazy you were being, but her tone told you everything you needed to know.

"I'm-I'm sorry y/n" 

Never, had you heard her stutter.

"I can't believe this- he's an asshole, I'm gonna-" she took a breath "I'm gonna beat him up, and he's gonna regret this, I swear"

As much as you wanted to laugh, you feared the moment you opened your mouth a sob would have fled it instead.

"I can't believe this" she repeated, and the truth was, you couldn't either.

You were happy. There was nothing that didn't work, you had a great relationship, you barely fought, you loved each other's presence, everything was good... or so you thought at least.

And he had thrown it all down the drain

And for what? For some slut he just met?

No, you immediately stopped yourself, No I'm not gonna be one of those women that blames the other woman.

This is all his fault. 

He's a cheating, lying bastard who doesn't deserve a minute more of my time, you decided, taking a breath.

"Let's go," you told Ellie

She frowned, confused "A-are you sure"

"let's go"

__ __ __

Ellie hadn't left your side for a second. 

You were sat side by side on the couch, your gaze fixated on the chimney in front of you, as Ellie probably rummaged through her mind to think of something to say.

You were frozen. All the anger and the pain mixing together to create a seeming numbness.

"Listen I-" 

Ellie's words immediately stopped when the front door opened.

"Hi, I'm home!" He half yelled from the entrance.

"Hello?" He spoke again once he didn't get an answer.

His heavy steps sounded against the floor as he started walking to the living room.

"Where is every-" he stopped once he saw you "There you are, why didn't you answer?"

The confusion on his face only multiplied once you took both your expressions in.

"what is it?" he asked, clueless "I'm sorry I couldn't come get you today something came up"

"Yeah, something," Ellie remarked, disappointment clear in her tone.

Joel frowned "What are you talking about?" he asked, "what's she on about?" he turned to you now.

You were about to speak when the girl beside you interrupted you.

"You know very well what I'm talking about Joel, don't play dumb"

The wrinkles on his forehead increased as his puzzlement persisted.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," she said "I can't believe you would do something like that, especially to y/n"

"what are you-"

"we saw you" Ellie anticipated his question "In town"

"I don't kno-"

The girl wouldn't let him speak, and you'd be lying if you said that didn't make you feel a tiny bit better.

"there's no point in lying anymore we saw you with our own eyes Joel"

He looked at you once again, and you adverted his gaze to look at the very angry girl at your side.

"thank you, Ellie, but I think I can take it from here"

She hesitated, looking between you two "You sure?"

"yes" you swallowed your nerves away "don't worry"

She shot Joel a look for far longer than necessary and then finally got up.

"alright" she nodded "I'm gonna go next door then, but if you need anything just yell," she said, starting down the doorway, but not before stopping at Joel's side "And you... I'm not talking to you anymore" she decided, getting out and closing the door behind her.

The silence that filled the room was louder than any sound you'd ever heard, except the one of your pounding heart of course.

You stood up, walking to the other side of the couch so you were facing him but you were still carefully distant.

"What is going on?" Joel finally spoke

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that you needed to keep your cool because you're sure as hell not wasting any voice or tears over this asshole

"Joel I know you're cheating on me, or at least have cheated"

"What?"

"When I was getting Ellie home from school we saw you in front of the pub"

You watched as realization crammed his face.

"y/n that was not what you think"

"I'm sure it wasn't Joel" you rolled your eyes "Listen I don't care for any lame excuse or apology, I just need to know one thing... why?" you said "You at least owe me that. Everything was good wasn't it? What was it that made you feel the need to go and fuck some other woman?" for all your promises your voice was getting louder.

"I didn't- y/n I've never cheated on you"

"stop lying!" you burst "Be an adult and fucking own up to what you've done!" 

"y/n" he stepped closer to you and you took a step back.

"stop" You put a hand in front of you, signaling for him to not take another step "Answer my question"

Now he took a breath. And god if you didn't want to punch him.

You're frustrated? You're mad? How do you think I feel?

"y/n" he spoke again, his tone more even, "I swear to god sweetheart I have not cheated on you. The woman you saw me with is Jessie, She's just Tommy's friend. Nothing happened, Of course, nothing happened baby, I love you, you know that. I would never hurt you”

“Oh please, so you're telling me all of Tommy's friends get their mouths that close to yours?"

His lips gaped open, as he struggled to find the right words.

"Alright," he breathed, convincing you you were about to get a confession.

A mix of nausea and homicidal rage electrified your body.

"She is... well, she had been- flirting with me," he said "But I've never led her on, sweetheart, I would never do that, I don't have eyes for anyone but you" he sighed, and his deep brown eyes were pained "Listen," he took a step, and this time, for some unknown reason, your feet wouldn't budge, "My brother called me about an emergency and I rushed there to help"

"an emergency at the pub?"

"just-" There was anxiety and sadness creeping up his voice "Please let me finish, I swear it's not what you think baby"

"fine" you nodded

"I helped him out and he invited me for a drink over at the pub and I accepted. We talked for a while and then when I was about to go, Jessie showed up, and she was trying to get me to go to her house, to which I said no and headed out, but she kept following me until we were outside, and that's when she cornered me and I decided it was time to stop being nice and tell her I don't want anything to do with her"

Silence fell again.

"I can call Tommy if you want, he saw all of this"

"Like he wouldn't lie for you" you commented

"You're right, but you also know how strict he is about these things"

that's true, you had to admit.

"Please sweetheart" he begged, his hand trying to grasp at yours "Y/n I love you, I love you more than anything, I'd give my life for you, I'd do anything for you" he promised "I know it's hard to believe me but I swear to anything and anyone you want that I'm telling the truth. we can even ask Jessie if you want, just please- I need you to believe me" If he sounded desperate it's because he was.

"If that's true why didn't you push her away?"

"I-" he stuttered "I didn't because I didn't want to cause a scene, I just wanted to talk like a civilized person, like you always say I should do more"

You bit your lip, trying to make some sense of the mess in your brain.

"Joel" you huffed "Are you being honest? Because I'm giving you a chance to come clean now and if I were you I'd take it"

"I am" he answered within a second "I am sweetheart, I'd never cheat on you, you're the love of my life for god's sake," he said, his hand finally grasping yours.

You looked up at him, and a dark pang of surprise came over you as you noticed the glinting glaze on his eyes matching yours.

"please" he murmured "I can't lose you y/n, not over something like this. I understand how you could have misread things, I do, but I promise that's not what happened." he breathed "I'm yours y/n, I only want to be yours" 

Your eyes fell to where your fingers intertwined, all the memories rushing back like a raging river.

"You promise?"

"I promise," he said, and you believed him. because this was Joel Miller we were talking about, the man that you had fallen for since he first saved you, and kept falling for each time he saved you again. He was a good man, no, not the traditional definition of that term, but to you, he was a good man, the best man.

"alright" you decided "Seems like I'm gonna have to have a talk with Jessie"

"And I with Ellie" A small grin tugged at his lips

"Oh she's pissed alright" you chuckled "I don't know if I'd do that if I were you"

[19burstraat]

I know I've definitely seen posts abt this before, but I can't get over how much the 'Jordie' in Kaz's head is just... not Jordie. Like obviously it's not, bc he's dead, but it's also not even accurate to Kaz's memory of him.

Like these are the sorts of things that are attributed to 'the voice of' Jordie:

Jordie had come for his vengeance at last. It's time to pay your debts, Kaz. You never get something for nothing. But he could hear Jordie laughing. No, little brother. No one is stronger. You've cheated death too many times. Greed may do your bidding, but death serves no man.

While Jordie was no stranger to grandstanding statements, and one might argue Kaz actually picked that habit up from him ('The city is winning so far, but you'll see who wins in the end' for example), these aren't the sorts of things he'd have said to his kid brother??? Yes, he could be arrogant, and he's snappy with / acts superior to Kaz a few times, but as far as we see, Jordie is mostly very good with Kaz; he has a remarkable tolerance for/patience with him, especially for a newly orphaned thirteen year old. Kaz admittedly comes across as a quiet kid and is pretty compliant; he rarely talks to anyone except Jordie and Saskia, he seems to just watch for most of their interactions with 'Hertzoon', he largely does as he's told and doesn't wander off, but he's still like... nine, and wants to do stuff like see the magicians and make all the dogs walk at once, and sulks when Jordie stops him from doing stuff and makes him stay inside. We also see Jordie pretty frequently lying to Kaz to try and make him feel better. But this mental-Jordie is not a comforting presence. The start of SOC is literally set up to make you think Jordie is someone that Kaz has swindled or betrayed, that he fears will come back for vengeance, so it's a big 'oh wait wtf' moment when you realise that he's not a rival gang member or anything, he's just his brother, and it wasn't his fault. But you wouldn't know it! Kaz wants 'Jordie's' voice silenced 'forever' and seems afraid of it, almost— at least, it turns up in vulnerable moments. He thinks that 'paying his debt' (i.e. taking out Rollins) will get rid of it. (Sorry hon. It won't.) Kaz thinks at one point that he still sees Jordie as "infallible" and looks at him through the eyes of the child he'd been, but in other scenes he's glove-puppeting 'his brother' to punish himself. I guess he still sees Jordie, even in death, as the ultimate authority figure, and to cope with guilt/stress/grief he imagines that this is something he's being compelled or commanded to do, and that when he does it he'll have redeemed himself, when really it's just desperate flailing to get the closure he couldn't have. I'm sure he knows goddamn well that this isn't actually what Jordie wanted for him ('You'll go to school') and that's why the mental 'Jordie' is really off, because Kaz knows its not really the will of his brother— it's just him. It talks like him! He doesn't even try to imitate the real Jordie! It's just Kaz, alone— but he's never really been able to come to terms with that.

[3nni3]

Shadows In The Street Lights <3

A/N: Finally it's here. I don't know if this should be a series or not, but in the meanwhile I think about it, I hope you enjoy this little creation of mine, which was inspired by my childhood favourite movie, Starstruck. I hope some of you have pleasant memories of the movie as well, and now, welcome to live your own Starstruck movie in a form of this text. Also for the plot, if your native language is Dutch or English - now it's not. :)

CW: smoking, cursing, idk the basic stuff.

F!reader

This doesn't have any smut, fyi horny motherfuckers ;)

Word count: 3k ish

Have a nice day.

-E

(Gaat het? = You okay?)

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

It was over. Something you had planned and waited for months was now over. But you couldn't be happier. You finally got to experience the one and only, Joost Klein live show. And it was so much better than anticipated. You walk out of the venue with your friends, the cold autumn breeze of Amsterdam hitting you, but you don't mind. After being inside a venue that you swear was at least hundred degrees Celsius, this felt nice for a while.

You hug your friends at the bus stop in front of the venue, saying goodbye as their bus arrives. The promise of never complaining about anything else again when you get back to your car crosses your mind as you curse your choice of clothing, thinking of the hoodie you decided to leave in the backseat. The night really was getting a bit cold, and even though everything was perfect, the cold air of Amsterdam and lack of cigarettes in your possession kinda made you irritated. You look at the ground, shoving your hands deep in the pockets of your thin jacket, as you walk to the direction where you left your car, turning the corner without watching where you're going. Mistake number.. whatever it is. 

A door was opened right in front of you, and nearly hit your head, but your shoe stops it, and you nearly lose your balance.

"Oh, sorry! Gaat het?" You hear a male voice speak as you regain your balance. "I'm fine." You chuckle, as you look up at the man in front of you, shocked. Holy fuck. "Joost? Oh shit, sorry, I mean, like, that was my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going." You ramble without thinking. Taking in the features of his figure, a tall Dutch man in front of you, your heart skips a couple of beats. Black jeans that has some kind of wavy seams as a decoration, Ed Hardy hoodie with the hood pulled up, and some shades covering his eyes. However with a simple outfit like that, he manages to look better than ever, making it impossible to look away. The man looks to the side as he notices you eyeing him. "It's alright," Joost laughs lightly, "as long as you're not hurt, we're good." You smile at his reassuring words, still a bit dumbfounded.

"You were at the show?" He continues, noticing your eyes on him, recognising who he is. With a slight chuckle leaving his lips, he takes his sunglasses off, putting them in the hoodie pocket. 'God it should be illegal to see those hazy, blue eyes without glasses framing them,' your thoughts racing as well as your heart. "Yeah, I was." you smile back at him, trying to regain your composure, mesmerized by the blonde in front of you. "How did you like it?" He decides to small talk a little bit. 'Why not,' he thought, since there was no other fans around, a little small talk never hurt nobody. "It was so good, you're so good!" You babble, immediately regretting it. He laughs, a warm comforting smile forming on his lips, making your worry about your overly enthusiastic babble fade away. "I'm glad. Are you here alone?" He asks, looking around you guys, not noticing anyone with you. "Yeah, or like… I was there with friends, but they left like five minutes ago." You gesture to the side with your head. "Ah, alright, alright…" He says in an awkward voice, trying to continue the conversation somehow.

"You're not from here." He states, bringing up the fact that you're talking in English. You shake your head, telling him where you're from and he nods, urging you to continue. "I just moved here, still struggling to learn Dutch." A laugh leaves your lips with that sentence. "That's fine, I know it's not easy." Joost answers with an understanding smile, "Duolingo lessons done?" His comment making you grin. "Yeah, definitely."

A silence following it, not quite knowing how to continue, not wanting to ask for a photo or ruin the nice interaction with your favourite artist, and the tiny voice in your head is screaming at you for not knowing what to say next.

His facial features look beautiful under the dim street light, and those damn ocean eyes staring back at you make you think you would die if you kept looking at them any longer. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you began speaking, wanting to escape the awkward silence before it's too late, "Listen, it was so nice meeting you. I- eh, I need to-" He cuts you off, "You here by car?"

You nod, confused, his eyes still staring into yours. "Yeah it's parked behind the corner at the parking lot." You point at your right. His eyes following your gestures, looking at the direction you're pointing at. "Mine's there too, come, I'll walk you to your car." He says, quite enjoying this normal interaction with someone, and not wanting it to end just yet. You shake your head, "No you don't need to, I'll be okay-"

"It's not that safe in this area during these hours," he explains, worried about your safety, "there's been a lot of weird shit happening here lately…" You listen to him talk, as he gestures for you to walk with him. Before you even acknowledge it, your legs start moving on their own, agreeing to his request by following him. The silence settles down on you two as you wonder how the hell you ended up in a situation like this, and how on earth could you ever explain this to your friends later.

You agree silently by following him, as he gestures you to walk with him. A silence falls on you two, but this time it doesn't feel as awkward.

He pulls out his cigarette pack from his pocket, taking one and offering the pack to you. You gladly accept, taking one. He reaches out to light your cigarette that's hanging between your lips, before lighting his own. "Oh my, you're a saint. Thanks, this was very much needed." You laugh as the smoke fills your lungs, your thoughts sidetracking somewhere, possibly containing something about the man next to you. "What made you move here?" He suddenly asks, bringing you back to the present from your thoughts. "Oh, uh, I guess I just needed some change, you know? My job has multiple locations around Europe, internal transfer making it easy to relocate basically anywhere." You explain and he nods, blowing out smoke as he starts speaking again, "What do you do for work?" "Short answer is media," You say, deciding to go a little bit indepth with your answer, "and the long one is graphic design and editing for bigger corporations and managing their public image on social media."

Joost looks at you, raising his eyebrows as you two turn the corner. "Oh. That sounds so interesting. If I hadn't gotten into this music thing, I would've probably gotten into graphic designing as well. I like drawing on my iPad and doodling."

"I've seen your doodlings online, they're good." You admit, taking the final drag of your cigarette, before dropping it on the ground and stepping on it, while trying to still keep up with Joost's pace. He slows down for a few steps, seeing you got left behind, looking at you. "Thank you. That means so much. I want my art to be seen, either music or some doodles. I want my art to inspire people, help them or just for them to enjoy it in general. I guess it's somewhat a dream of mine..." He rambles. But you don't mind. You like listening to him. He drops his cigarette and steps on it putting it out, and is about to say something, when your phone rings. "Sorry." You mumble to him as you take the call, "It's my friend." He listens carefully to the foreign language you speak. While he doesn't understand a single word, he still manages to pick up two words - "Joost Klein". 

You say goodbye to your friend, putting your phone back in your pocket. "She called to make sure I'm alive and on my way home," you explain as you feel Joost's questioning look at you, "and I told her I'll be okay, that you're walking me to my car." His smile visible on his face, feeling good that he's able to provide the feeling of security to you, so you wouldn't need to walk alone in a sketchy neighborhood.

You reach the parking lot, the only two cars remaining are yours and Joost's, funnily enough, parked only one car length away from one another. "That one yours?" He points out at your car, somewhat amused, "Because if it is, mine's right next to it." You chuckle, "Yeah, that's mine. But don't judge, she's old, I know." You continue talking about your little Volkswagen Polo that has seen it's better days... almost two decades ago. "Hey, not judging," he throws his hands up, "as long as it gets you home tonight, it's good." His warm smile making your heart skip a beat. He leans against his car's passenger side door. "Well, I think I really need to thank you," you start as you open the car door, sitting down while putting the keys in the ignition, "for making sure I'd get safely here." You continue as you turn the key - but nothing happens. "No worries, honestly. It was my pl-" Joost starts but quickly stops seeing your frustrated expression. You try again but all you get is flashing lights on the dashboard. "Everything okay?" He asks, worried, pushing himself away from his car, taking a couple of steps to your way. You groan in response. "Well she's not getting me home tonight, I guess." Your laugh comes out unamused, as your head falls back against the headrest. He leans his elbow against your open driver's side door, cringing, "I'm sorry, I think I kinda jinxed it..." 

You shake your head, sighing, "No, not your jinxing. Just a horrible battery, which was supposed to be replaced way too long ago. A fucking ticking time bomb the whole car..." You laugh, not knowing what else to do, "I think I need to call and wake up my roommate." He shakes his head, "How far away do you live?", the blonde man asks, furrowing his brows. You groan and step out of the car, leaning against it, "Like half an hour away." The cold night air makes you shiver, so you decide to grab your hoodie from the back seat and throw it on. Crossing your arms, feeling the comfortable warmth your hoodie is providing, and you sigh. Joost puts out a cigarette you didn't even notice him smoking before this. 'What a chain smoker he is...' you think and mentally chuckle at that. He keeps fidgeting with his car keys and looks away for just a second before returning his gaze to you. "I'll drive you." The words come out of his mouth suddenly, surprising even himself with that, but for some reason, he really enjoys your company. The first normal interaction he's had in a while and to be honest, who wouldn't enjoy being accompanied by a pretty girl who's polite. You're not taking photos of him, asking about music, demanding something - quite the opposite, as you once again decline his offer, shaking your head. "I can't accept that, I'll call my roommate, she'll come pick me up." He huffs, "Seriously now, I really don't mind. I feel guilty for jinxing that-" "Joost." You stop him, letting out a little laugh, "It's fine." He rolls his eyes jokingly as you pull your phone out of your pocket, ready to dial your roommate. "Absolutely not." He chuckles as he pushes your phone down. "You're home much faster if you let me drive you. It's getting late, c'mon now." He says, giving you a sympathetic look.

God what a dream come true, Joost Klein _begging_ for you to be his passenger princess. But something in you just won't let him do that. Drive an hour extra so YOU will get home. It doesn't feel like a right thing to do. And you're pretty sure he's just suggesting it to not sound selfish. "Joost I absolutely can't-" "Get in." he cuts you off smiling, opening the passenger door to his car. You sigh, pushing yourself away from your car, grabbing your bag from the driver's seat, slamming the god damn stupid door shut and locking the car. "There's no point arguing, I'm not leaving you out here. It's fucking scary - even for me." He says as you reluctantly sit down in his passenger seat. He gently closes the door for you and walks around the car, getting in the driver's seat, starting the car. "Thank you. Like for real." you mumble quietly as he puts the car in drive and steers the car to the exit of the parking lot and onto the main road. "I owe you one." You say as he laughs, handing you his phone. "You can pay back by being the DJ, so I can focus on the road."You take his phone from his hand, your fingers gracing his hand, sending shivers through you. 

You don't know what to play, since all you've lately been listening to is, well, Joost. You test the waters of his music taste as you press play, and the first chords of 5 Seconds of Summer's Youngblood starts playing. He starts humming along, and a surprised look lands on your face, but you don't say anything. It feels weird. Sitting in the passenger seat, while the driver is literally your favourite artist. A silence falls among you as the music keeps playing, neither one of you knowing what to say. You know too much about him considering the fact he knows literally nothing about you. Of course it's all just public information, in his songs, or on his social media. Online in general. You're not a stalker either way, but it doesn't feel like you should know that much about someone you just met. You seem to notice Joost humming or singing along with you to almost every song you play, and smile to yourself, knowing he vibes with the same music as you do.

"Take the next exit." You give directions to the man next to you. He nods and proceeds to take the next exit. The landscapes flash by as you drive in silence. But this time it's not an awkward silence, it's a comfortable one. The music is still playing in the background as his phone sits on your thigh and you once in a while keep adding more songs to the queue. At some point, you started playing some of your favourite songs in your native language, knowing he probably doesn't understand much of the lyrics, but he still keeps vibing, nodding his head along to the music.

"And turn right from there." The words come out nervously, as you slowly overcome the shock of the situation and realise that Joost Klein is actually driving you home.

"You know, you have a great taste in music." Joost's compliment catches you off guard, "Thank you?" You don't mean the answer to come out sounding like a question, but it does. "And I don't just mean my music, you know?" He states, chuckling a little, "It's refreshing to know someone else too has as huge of a range of favourite genres." You feel a smile tug on the side of your mouth. "Well, your music isn't bad either." The joking tone in your voice gets more visible as the fan-artist barrier breaks down a bit by bit. All the small talk is becoming more natural, which warms not just your heart, but Joost's as well.

As you continue giving him directions, the surroundings start looking more and more familiar, meaning you'll soon be approaching your neighbourhood. The nearest grocery store gets left behind as you pass by a pub of some kind you have yet to visit, and then comes the intersection where you guide him to take a left into a road that leads to your house. A tiny pang in your chest tells you that you won't want this night to be over.

"It's that one on the right." You point out and he pulls into the driveway in front of a gray coloured small apartment complex with bushes framing the walkway up to the door. Lights and decorations could be seen on almost every balcony out of the six that were in sight on the front side of the house. "What a pretty place, I like the lights." He admires the decorations. "Yeah, I quite like it here..." You hum agreeingly, but tired. A nice silence sets between you guys for a few seconds again, and Joost definitely doesn't want to be the one breaking it.

You hand his phone back to him, your hands touching again, but you brush off the butterflies in your stomach, and grab your bag from the floor between your feet. "Listen, so, I wanna thank you, this was really nice of you..." You smile at him, not really knowing how to continue. "You're welcome, I'm glad to get you home safe." He returns your smile with a nod. As you open the door to step out, you feel devastated that this interaction with him is over now. "How much do I owe you?" You ask as you get up and lean forward, leaning your arm against the door. He laughs and shakes his head, "I'm not a taxi, you don't owe me anything. Besides, I really liked this. You're a nice girl." His words make you blush and you look away. "Alright then. Thank you, for real, Joost. And you're pretty nice too." You smile at him and he nods, "Goodnight. Hope your car gets fixed soon." "So do I... Goodnight." You decide against prolonging the pointless chit chat, and close the passenger door as you walk towards the front door. Joost stayed in the driveway, watching you walk up to the door, put in the door code, and walk in. Only after that he allows himself not to feel worry about you getting home safe, as he sees your figure walk up the stairs through the windows at the staircase. He let's out a sigh, puts his car in reverse and starts moving. As he backs out of your driveway, he realises - he never asked your name.

[therealcocoshady]

Kinktober - Day 25 - Rimming

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

A/N : Y'all had me feeling a little guilty for making you cry with the latest Kinktober post so I decided to treat you to some smut. At first, I thought it would be short and sweet and... well, it is a little longer than expected but you guys don't mind, do you ? 😏. The prompt is "Rimming". I was terrified to write it but I think it turned out pretty fine. Anyway, please tell me what you think ❤️.

If you liked it and want to support a struggling student, you can buy me a cup of coffee. ☕️

CW : Mention of porn watching - SMUT - Rimming - P in V - F in A. - Fluff

MDNI.

When it comes to sex, Marshall is a simple guy. Sure, he likes to try something new every once in a while, but nothing particularly extravagant or extremely kinky. He’s the kind of guy who considers anal as freaky enough. You never really minded that, though. Sure, you were a little kinkier than him, but he was so good in bed that you never got bored. He wouldn’t be caught lacking, finishing without you cumming at least once or twice. And there was so much trust between you that, if you wanted to try something, you could bring it up to him and he wouldn’t judge. He would even indulge you, sometimes, and try to explore some of your kinks and interests. Nothing hardcore, though. In fact, the face he made when you mentioned knife play remained engraved in your memory for a long time. But sure enough, he didn’t mind giving the lighter stuff a try. Only for you, though. You were grateful and enjoyed it, even though some of those attempts ended up with him shaking his head and saying « I don’t think I’d want to do that again. Sorry babe ». You didn’t care, though, since he kept you satisfied, and you shrugged it off. You couldn’t care less that he didn’t like blindfolding or using restraints. In fact, you thought it was rather endearing, the way he’d tell you he wanted to be connected to you, able to hold you in his arms ans look into your eyes. 

So you didn’t really care when you brought up a sudden interest in rimming and he quickly dismissed it. « For you, or for me ? » he asked with a raised eyebrow. You gave him a smile and shrugged. « Me. Or you. I’m open to both, I guess. Your choice » you hummed. He took a pause before answering but the way he scrunched his nose and pursed his lips kind of gave it away. « Don’t think I’d enjoy that, babe. Sorry » he said calmly. You nodded and understanding and moved on to another conversation topic. Easy breezy. It never had to be any more complicated than that. You weren’t one to push your desires on other people anyway. You expected it to go like it always did : none of you mentioning it again and sticking to the stuff you both enjoyed. 

One afternoon, you had gone to visit a friend while he stayed home, catching up on some emails and work-related stuff. His old computer had been acting up, lately and, though he was kind of pissed when it died, he wasn’t exactly surprised. He walked to the bedroom to borrow your laptop, that you had left on your bedside table. When he opened it, he was immediately met with your browser and tabs you hadn’t bothered closing. Private browsing tabs. Porn, actually. He knew you enjoyed watching porn, sometimes. You’d bee pretty open about it, so he wasn’t surprised. However, being naturally curious, he couldn’t help but let his gaze lingers on your search bar. Nothing wrong with keeping up with his woman’s interests, right ? And apparently, judging by the keywords you’d used, rimming was very much still on your mind, the female being on the receiving end of it. 

It was the first time he ever allowed himself to snoop through your things and, though he didn’t feel especially guilty about that, he caught himself feeling a little guilty for refusing to indulge you. He knew you probably didn’t hold it against him, you never did, but he didn’t want you to feel frustrated in any way, shape or form. He clicked on the play button and ended up watching a video. Then another one. He’d never been attracted to the concept of eating ass before, but if there was one thing he was a sucker for, it was your orgasms. Nothing made him get off like you getting off, and the louder he managed to make you scream, the better. He was almost addicted to your moans, the little whimpers you let out when he did something you liked. And when he heard your cries of pleasure as you asked for more, it was music to his ear. The noises coming from the computer speakers were enough to convince him. He’d could be really stupid, sometimes, but he’d never be dumb enough to refuse an opportunity to make you come. 

When you came home that night, you were drenched. It was raining cats and dogs and the short walk from the driveway to the house had ruined your hair and makeup. It didn’t help that the temperatures were dropping and, as you walked through the door, you were shivering. « Well… Summer’s officially over » you groaned as you removed your shoes and jacket. « Looks like it. » he hummed. « You’re freezing, my love. How about I draw a nice bath for you ? » he offered with a caring smile. You gladly accepted his offer and, moments later, as you enjoyed the warm water thanked whatever entity it was that blessed you with such a caring partner. He even brought you a glass of your favorite non-alcoholic wine and sat on the bathroom floor as you told him about your day. You let go of all the tension as he washed your hair, enjoying the gentle scratch of his fingers on your scalp. It had to be what heaven felt like. You caught him looking at you as you exited the water and wrapped yourself in a soft towel. The look in his eyes made you feel as if you were a work of art. Under his gaze, you felt beautiful. « Gorgeous » he commented in a low voice. You blushed and he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose before helping you blowdry your hair. You were used to it, him being caring. It has become some sort of routine. In the first moments of your relationship, you’d been a little surprised by it, insisting that you were fully capable of taking care of yourself, what with being a grown, independent woman and everything. But he always replied the same thing « I know. But let me. I want to. ». And it was much too enjoyable for you to refuse so, in time, you had grown accustomed to the royal treatment he never seemed bored of giving you. « Better ? » he asked softly. « Much, much better. Thank you baby» you replied as you wrapped your arms around him. 

He led you to the bedroom and you both lay in bed, cuddling and exchanging soft kisses that grew more passionate. « You smell incredible. Bet you taste just as good. », he whispered against your lips. You let out a soft giggle and kissed him again. « Why don’t you have a taste and tell me ? » you suggested in a sultry voice. He nodded and quickly got rid of your towel and his teeshirt, tossing them somewhere before pinning you to the bed. He started by kissing your lips, making his way to your neck and further down. He kissed his way down to your core, giving you a charming grin before starting to eat you out. You closed you eyes and found yourself writing, your body contorting in pleasure as he added a finger. You couldn’t help the moans that escape from your lips, hearing them grow louder and louder as you felt your climax come your way. Just before you could feel the explosion, he stopped and looked up, staring in your eyes with a smirk. « Babe » you complained with a whine. « How about you get on all fours, baby ? » he suggested. Suddenly, the frustration didn’t feel so bad. He knew doggy was, by far, your favorite position. Something about the the angle and depth he could reach. You happily obliged and he got undressed while you playfully shook your ass. You expected him to enter you, but he didn’t. 

Instead, he placed a loving kiss on one of your ass cheek. Then another. Then another, inching closer to your hole. You let out a small gasp, understanding where this might be going. « What do you think, love ? Can I taste you there too ? » he asked softly. You couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear. He had no idea how badly you wanted this. Or so you thought. You nodded and he placed a kiss right there, before starting to lick gently, using the tip of his tongue. You welcomed the sensation with curiosity, a hint of apprehension as well. You’d been meaning to give it a try for years but, so far, you hadn’t felt comfortable enough with anyone. And then, your man hadn’t seem too eager. It didn’t take long for a wave of warm pleasure to come your way, radiating through your whole body. You arched your back a little more, letting out a whimper that turned into a long, throaty moan as he kept going and fingered you again. It was just as good as you thought it would be. Better, even. And Marshall didn’t seem disgusted, judging by the way he kept going, from kitten lick to full on flicking is tongue and dipping it. You hadn’t expected the pleasure to be so intense but it had you forcefully gripping at the bedsheets, instinctively shaking your ass in his face. He kept going, encouraged by the gasps and grunts you couldn’t control. Eventually he stopped, his tongue only able to take so much before going numb. He didn’t leave you hanging, though. One second later, he replaced his fingers by his shaft and started thrusting, immediately taking a fast pace. You could feel him rock hard, mistreating your dripping wet cunt. And as if it wasn’t enough, he added his thumb to your puckered hole, his spit having down a nice job as makeshift lube. The sensation sent you reeling and you heard yourself wail, tears streaming down your cheeks. You felt yourself clenching around him and, though he’d been pretty silent so far (compared to you, at least), he let out a throaty moan before you both collapsed on top of each other. 

He placed a kiss on your shoulder before rolling to the side and bringing you into a hug. It wasn’t the first time you sobbed after an intense orgasm, but it was the first time it lasted this long. You slowly caught your breath ad looked at him, fucked out face and red eyes complimented by a little drool at the corned of your lips. You probably didn’t look your best by usual standards, but you could have sworn Marshall had never been more attracted to you. « Hey » he whispered as he cupped your cheek. « Good God » you mumbled, earning a chuckle from your man. « You do taste good » he hummed playfully. You stared at him and let out a soft giggle. « Do I ? » you asked as you blushed slightly. « Yep. And I’m definitely going to want more », he added with a wink. The perspective of this happening again had you grinning and you couldn’t hold your excitement. « I’m going to marry the shit out of you, Mathers » you said jokingly as you thought to yourself that this man was the most incredible creature to ever walk the earth, right when you thought he couldn’t get any more perfect. You’d found your match and you would never, ever let him go. Not that you had any doubts before, mind you. « Weird way to propose but ok, » he chuckled, looking at you lovingly. « How does May 3rd sound ? ». 

[fruitcoops]

After Midnight

Annual pride fic is here! I hope everyone is staying safe, well, and hydrated :) Character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW for alcohol/ light drunkenness/hangovers

July 1, 1:30 p.m.

“Jesus,” Remus mumbled. Pressure pinched his lower back, runching up his shirt; he dug a clumsy hand beneath himself and fumbled for his phone. It took a few moments to extract it, clamped between weak knuckles, but he managed. Handful of Twitter notifications, a text from his dad, an automatic calendar notification, sticky lips and—good god, did his hair really look that bad?

He tried to sit up and was met with an immediate (and wildly cranky) grumble from the concrete slab resting across his belly.

Remus sighed, and closed his eyes. Getting up was overrated. He didn’t even want to think about the state of the house.

June 30, 10:30 p.m.

“AYO AYO AYO!”

Kasey winced. “Christ, Harz, take some pity on my eardrums.”

“Hey, man, sorry—has anyone seen the margarita mix?”

“Side counter,” Remus noted, tipping his chin toward the kitchen. “By the sink.”

Finn’s face brightened. “Sick, thanks.”

“Gentle pours, please. Not everyone here has a college liver.”

“Please,” Finn snorted as he cracked a screw-top open. “You’re all in much better shape than those guys ever were. Knutty around?”

Remus shrugged and took another sip of his beer. He liked this kind—Sirius had picked well. “Went off somewhere with Reg. Probably gaming.”

Finn whistled through his teeth. “Not getting him back anytime soon, eh?”

“Oh, you bet,” Remus laughed.

July 1, 2:00 p.m.

“We should ban frat boys from the team.”

“Mmm.”

“All of them. Every one.”

“Mmm.”

“Or at least remove the—” Sirius paused to catch another mouthful of water directly from the faucet. For the first time in Remus’ memory, his glossy hair looked slightly dull and flat. “—lead weights from their hands, mon dieu, what did they put in there?”

“Hell. Burning, vicious, alcoholic hell.” He turned his head with utmost caution, and still felt a warning throb in the back of his skull. “I liked those ciders you picked up.”

Sirius groaned; Remus watched his forehead bump the side of the kitchen cabinet with a soft noise. “Don’t talk to me about cider right now. My tongue feels like I licked one of your sweaters.”

Remus frowned. “You like my sweaters.”

“That’s not…” Sirius straightened with a wince. Both hands remained braced on the marble. “The fuzzy stuff, it’s all in my mouth. Wool.”

Remus thought it was rather more like someone had packed his cheeks and sinuses full of cotton balls, but sharing that didn’t seem like the wisest choice. Nine hours of sleep. Dizziness still threatened every attempt at movement. The tap turned off and he heard Sirius’ footsteps approach; pressure compacted Remus’ ribs once more with a wobbly flop.

“I like this shirt,” Sirius mumbled into his left pec. His voice was thick—from his hangover or drowsiness or just giving up on English, Remus wasn’t sure. Knowing Sirius, it was a bit of all three. His stubble scratched gently over Remus’ collarbone, still damp from sticking his head in the sink. “Soft. Cute.”

“It’s one of yours.”

“Ah. I have good taste.”

“Clearly.”

The corner of Sirius’ mouth pulled up in a smile. “Hmm. Harzy and Tremz are going to be doing bag skates until their legs fall off.”

Remus snorted, trailing his fingertips through the squashed curls at Sirius’ nape. “Not to play frat boy’s advocate here, but in their very weak defense, I don’t think the punch alone did this.”

“Non. Margaritas.”

“I still think Lily poured extra in.”

“Ouais, prolab—probleb—oui. She did.”

A phone screen lit up in Remus’ periphery. He grabbed for it, stiff-fingered and extremely stuck beneath a lump of husband, and squinted into the bright light. “Pots says good morning, and that he’s going to go lay on the porch for a few hours. He loves you.”

“Mmph. Love, too.”

June 30, 11:25 p.m.

Sirius loved parties. He fucking loved them. This was the best night of his life. Second-best, after his wedding. Or third? He was happy when Harry was born. But no, his ribs were still broken then. That had to put it under tonight, because tonight was perfectly amazing and awesome, and James was his—

“You’re my favorite person,” he yelled over the music, leaning on James’ shoulder in case he didn’t hear. “I love you!”

“I love you, too!” James shouted back. His glasses had gone a bit sideways on his face. That was fine. Lily would totally fix those for him. She liked to kiss his nose, and she had once told Sirius that fixing James’ glasses made sure she got to do it. Sirius thought she might want to pick something that wasn’t so easily broken.

“Hey,” he continued with a pull to James’ shirtsleeve. “I kiss loup on the mouth.”

“I know!”

“And the cheek!”

“Why are you telling me things I already know?”

“Because Lily kisses your nose,” he explained. Maybe the music was too loud for James to understand. He looked confused. “And you can break your nose. But you can’t break your mouth or your cheeks.”

Finally, understanding dawned on James’ face. “Dude,” he said. “You’re so right. We gotta go tell her.”

July 1, 2:07 p.m.

Remus set Sirius’ phone down on his lower back and reached for his own, wiggling a little when his hips got stuck under Sirius’ torso. A displeased huff followed—he kissed the top of Sirius’ head in apology and let the popsocket slot between his fingers, just in case. He was so clammy all of a sudden.

You Have (4) New Messages From: Lion Den RAHH

everyone not dead sound off

breathing.

Technically alive. Wish I wasn’t.

who made the fucikgn margs

New Message To: Lion Den RAHH

Not dead. Margs were Harz and Lily. You fuckers need to clean up after yourselves.

He had just clicked his phone off when the screen went retina-blasting bright again. Remus let his head fall back against the armrest and immediately regretted it. It took an embarrassing amount of time to lift his head again without the room tilting sideways.

New Message From: Lion Den RAHH

Big words. Small brain. Still drunj

*drnuk

DTUNK.

Three gray dots scrolled, then vanished. Remus smiled to himself. The vindictive part of him was glad to see they weren’t the only ones in Pride-induced misery.

New Message From: Lion Den RAHH

Some1 help knutty is snorng like a fucking chainswa

Remus glanced down. “Did you know Knutty snores?”

“In planes.”

The shallow rhythm of Sirius’ breathing flexed the shirt across his back. Remus gave an appreciative rub along the valley of his spine and felt him arch into it. “Aw,” he cooed. “My poor little hungover lion cub.”

“Nooo,” Sirius protested weakly.

“Poor baby. How will you survive.”

“At least you don’t snore.”

“True.”

“Is Harzy suffering?”

“As much as he can while he’s in bed on a Saturday with his boyfriends.”

“Good.”

July 1, 12:15 a.m.

“Bonjour, hi, hi.”

An arm caught him around the waist—Remus stumbled, but within half a step he had been gathered up against a warm, familiar chest. “Oh, hey,” he hummed, dopey even to his own ears. “Missed you.”

Sirius might have returned the sentiment, but Remus didn’t hear it through the buzz in his veins and the stutter of his heart when Sirius’ mouth found his own. He staggered backward with a sharp inhale and let Sirius carry their momentum. His back hit the wall; Sirius sighed into his lips when Remus dragged a hand through the top of his hair.

He tasted like oranges when Remus bit his lower lip. “Yum.”

“Love you,” Sirius said, smiling. Their foreheads bumped and Remus pushed into it. He was rewarded with another kiss that turned his ankles to loose jello. “Non, non, don’t leave.”

“Mmm, I’m not going anywhere,” he promised through a grin.

His eyes closed as Sirius’ mouth trailed over his cheek and jaw, then down to suck at his neck. “Should’ve done this earlier.”

Teeth grazed his skin with each word; Remus shivered despite the warm night. “Yeah?”

“Before the parade.” The sway of Sirius’ accent did unholy things to his heart. Stubble teased his skin when Sirius nudged under his chin. “That way everyone could see.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Remus breathed.

July 1, 3:45 p.m.

“Did you drown?”

Sirius glared at him across the bedroom, playful and foggy. Remus grinned and took a swig of Gatorade.

“You look like you did.”

“How are you rebounding?” Sirius grumbled.

Water droplets stuck to the mirror with each scrub of the towel through his hair. He’d left it longer than usual in the postseason, fluffy around his ears and neck. Remus was inclined to keep it that way as long as he could. He met Sirius’ gaze in the mirror and took another pointed sip. “Our lady of blessed electrolytes.”

“…give it.”

July 1, 1:30 a.m.

Sweat and glitter burned crystalline in the glow of multicolored LEDs. Sirius wasn’t sure where—or who—the glitter had come from, but finding one culprit in this crowd would be a losing battle, and one that required him to stand up. There was no way in hell he was leaving this perfect place.

Remus’ eyelashes threw shadows over his freckles when he blinked. “Do you think they’ll start leaving soon?”

“I’ve been hoping since midnight.”

His laugh was everything. Quieter at first, a mischievous snicker blooming loud at the end. Sirius let his eyes fall shut when Remus leaned over. His temple nestled against Sirius’ forehead. “Hi.”

The seam of his jeans rippled under Sirius’ fingertip. His quad flexed, and Sirius felt the weight in his lap grow heavier while Remus settled in. “Hey.”

“Proud of you.”

Sirius pressed his smile to a blush-warm cheek. God, he loved how pink Remus turned on nights like this. “I love you.”

It only took a minute adjustment, and they were kissing. He kept it soft and long and chaste, more a series of small pecks brought together by their closeness than anything. The tip of Remus’ nose was cool on the bridge of his own. He nibbled the corner of that grin and tasted bright apple-sugar, chasing it with a flick of tongue.

“You’re bad,” Remus murmured with audible delight, twisting slightly. He hardly went far—most of his weight rested on Sirius’ chest and he came closer without hesitation when Sirius tugged on his hips. His golden eyes flashed in the sudden transition from hot pink to blue lining their walls. “We have company.”

“So did Dumo.” Sirius kissed the roundness of his lower lip. “When we won the Cup.”

“We can’t throw a fuckin’ Pride party and then sneak off in the middle of it. It’s cliché.”

“If this is the middle, I’m sneaking off to sleep in an hour, and you can decide to join me or not.”

Remus’ laugh was loud all the way through, this time.

July 1, 6:00 p.m.

The groupchat had grown steadily more active as the hours passed and more of their friends were revived from their howling, sharp-toothed hangovers. Remus, for his part, had already sworn off alcohol six times in the past four hours. He hadn’t been left this hard-over since his junior year of college.

A gust of wind blew in from one of the many open windows and ruffled his shirt. Remus grimaced. “I still smell like a distillery.”

Sirius (who, despite his whinging, had recovered rather fast) sniffed the air. “Ouais.”

“Thanks, baby.”

“Worth it, though.”

Remus gave him a sideways look. “Was it?”

Sirius glanced up and frowned, then set his slice of pizza down. “I liked the party.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” One of his broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It was nice, having people around. The parade was fun. Kind of busy.” He took another bite, tipping his head back and forth thoughtfully even as a gentle blush colored his neck. “I like showing you off.”

Remus liked to think he had grown accustomed to Sirius’ sweetness—to his big heart and kind words, both of which were reserved for a select few that somehow included Remus. Yet he constantly found himself left speechless, cast far out to sea by the sheer honesty Sirius saved for him.

He stretched a leg out under the table and tangled their ankles together. “Love you.” Remus tilted his chin vaguely toward the window. “Here, and out there. For us and them.”

“We should have more parties,” Sirius said by way of an answer. The blush had risen to his ears. His foot ran along the length of Remus’ shin.

“Okay.”

“I want to see everyone, and I want to love you so they know it.”

Remus’ face hurt from keeping his smile from drifting too close to utter lunacy. “Okay.”

“We should ban glitter next year.” Sirius nodded to himself, then nudged Remus’ foot. “And frat boys.”

“They’re gay frat boys, though. They have a right.”

The bridge of Sirius’ nose wrinkled. Fucking adorable. “Well, maybe they just need to pick a side.”

“Lily was partially responsible for the biohazard margaritas,” Remus pointed out, picking a piece of pepperoni off Sirius’ slice and adding it to his own.

“She’s out, too.” Sirius jabbed his pizza at him. “And you’re on thin fucking ice, thief.”

“I’ll pick her party over yours.”

“You can’t pick your best friend over the person you’re gay married to. It’s Pride.”

Remus stole another pepperoni, dodging the smack of Sirius’ hand. “Then I’ll get gay married to Lily.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Any marriage I’m in is a gay one,” Remus informed him, slouching lower in his seat to hook his calf around Sirius’. “I can gay marry anyone I want. I’ll gay marry a dozen people and go to all their parties over yours. Ha-ha-ha.”

Sirius flicked a piece of pineapple at him; it bounced off his chin, and while he was distracted, Sirius stole one of his pepperonis back with a triumphant grin. “Fine. See if any of them put up with you like I do.”

“Thief.”

A foot poked Remus in the back of the knee. “Doesn’t count if it was already mine.”

[fairestbeard]

The Bear “Pasta” episode is about tainted/interrupted magic.

 

Walk with me.

In my previous meta I discussed how The Bear uses magical realism or marvelous realism in its story telling as evidenced in “Pop”. This is also very evident in the episode “Pasta”.

What Is Magical Realism?

Magical realism is a genre of literature that depicts the real world as having an undercurrent of magic or fantasy… Within a work of magical realism, the world is still grounded in the real world, but fantastical elements are considered normal in this world.

David Lodge defines magic realism: "when marvellous and impossible events occur in what otherwise purports to be a realistic narrative"

The genius of The Bear is that it’s so subtle in its use of marvelous realism that it is totally left to interpretation. The magical aspects of the stories are so blended in with the ordinary so much so that you might not notice at all. We can see The Bear employing aspects of folklore and the supernatural in the most subtle ways.

Violet.

Over the course of the season, we’d see the color and general ambience of the show shift a lot to emphasize the mood and the events. This episode focuses on Carmy and Syd bonding over the menu they’re trying to create and it feels (to the sydcarmys at least) like some type of love is in the air. This is the closest Sydney and Carmy had ever been in proximity and intimacy to that point. It is also the most progress they made on organizing the menu in the season. We even arguably see Carmy the most animated and relaxed for how neurotic he is known to be.

In this episode we see a lot of violet or purple, which is associated in magic with love potions. There’s a ray of violet light streaming through the restaurant and all through the episode we can that (especially) Carmy’s skin is ever so slightly tinged purple. There’s also a hint of purple in almost every scene either from the lighting to random purple objects in the background (remember season 1 with the tomato cans everywhere? They’re saying something).

This was a very deliberate choice and the biggest evidence is the Chicago flag shown at the start of the episode.

The Chicago flag in The Bear vs the real Chicago flag.

Wiz Richie

Richie assumes the role of the wizard-in-charge, dressed in the purplest purple and trying to assert himself all over the ongoing renovations at the restaurant. He calls himself the supervisor (supervisor of the spell?), accuses people (obviously the audience) of not knowing “how to watch stuff”, in other words we should be paying more attention. The movement or beat of the episode is also centered on him. Everything is going chaotically well as it does with the Berzatto clan both at  the restaurant and away but then…

Richie finds an anomaly.

 

Mold is the death knell

Fak tells them mold is the death knell and it could "ruin everything". In other words, it could spoil the magic that's already happening, because it will.

 

Richie is in denial about the presence of the death knell and is trying to get everyone to ignore the problem instead of dealing with it the right way. But there really IS a problem and his efforts to prove there wasn’t results in a more catastrophic ruining of the magic.

 

This moment is where the whole trajectory changes. That’s the exact moment Carmy runs out of veal stock and has to go to the store. While Emmanuelle and Syd's dinner turn from sweet memories to an argument about whether Carmy is trustworthy, Carmy runs into Claire.

A breached portal

What I love about this scene is how once you see it you can’t unsee it.

The way Claire is introduced into the scene, it’s almost like in a marvel-esque fantasy film where a portal is opened do or create something good but some other force gains access to that portal and is introduced to their world. We also see the introduction of the cold blue that pervades the rest of the season.

We can sense Carmy's discomfort. He tries to gently evade what's to come.

But the mold has taken hold.

Sometimes the dark force is not a horned creature with a three pronged weapon. Sometimes the dark force is beautiful and smiling and “remembers you”.

Note: While I now and forever will be anti Claire bear and even though the format, through this marvelous realism lens, casts her as a malevolent force, in reality she probably isn't. Storer stays deceiving and léger de main, remember? Ultimately Carmy is the one "trapped in a prison of his own design".

[awriterinthenight]

"I'm Lockwood" -Anthony Lockwood

requested by: anonymous

words: 1420

warnings: none really just Lockwood staring a lot, oh and I added that the reader can like see little memories with her ability just add a bit to the character

I let out a deep breath before approaching 35 Portland Row.

I'd spent all day looking for a smaller agency to join due to personal reasons, but all of them rejected me because either I wasn't reputable enough and they didn't want someone that could potentially get their agency in trouble. Or, if the agency was willing to accept me, the agency had a not so good reputation, and as much as I need a job, I also like living.

I knocked on the door three times, and waited as a boy in glasses and frazzled hair asked, "You here about the job."

I nodded my head, "Yes, I was told on the phone I was being interviewed by someone Lockwood, are you him?" I asked politely.

He just scoffed saying, "No, but you probably won't stay long enough to learn my name. Come on, come inside, the last person should be out in a minute or two."

I followed him inside the house. The inside was...well...interesting, but not in a bad way. I quite liked its randomness and the chaos that seemed to flow.

I was too busy admiring the house, so when a girl ran past me screaming, I was very caught off guard. I made a face, knitting my brows together turning towards the boy, "If being an agent doesn't work out she would do well as being an actress for horror movies with the scream she has," I say, looking at the door she just ran through.

He seems to just roll his eyes, trying to hide his small smile at my comment. He walks into the room where a girl and another guy I'm pretty sure is Lockwood, "Alright, last one," the boy with glasses says, as he sits and gets comfortable in an armchair.

The guy turned around and looked at me standing in the doorway, "Hi, I'm Lockwood, why don't you take a seat and we can start the interview," he said gesturing to the couch.

I sat down watching him as he also took a seat in front of me. He smiled at me before turning towards the girl leaning against the wall, "Lucy, why don't you make us some tea and grab some more biscuits," he asks.

Before Lucy can leave the boy with glasses stops her, "Woah, why do we have to waste more tea bags and biscuits. I reckon she's a bolter anyway," he snarks.

Lockwood sighs saying, "At least give her the benefit of the doubt and pop the kettle on," he tells Lucy and the other boy, before turning towards me. He looks at me for a second, as if unable to speak or find words, before clearing his throat, "Alright, so I assume you have up to your 4th grade," he asks as just a formality.

I nod, "I have all my stuff right here," I say grabbing the folder containing my stuff out of my bag, "But, I don't have a recommendation letter. Things at my other agency ended quickly and quite unpleasantly. I hope that won't affect whether I get the job or not, will it?" I ask a bit nervous.

He smiles again, looking up at me through his eyelashes, "I can assure that will not compromise your chance of getting the job. You seem quite impressive. Won a few fencing competitions I see," he says looking through my folder.

I shrug, "I'm good with a rapier I guess," I say, trying to not sound too pretentious.

He just smirks, setting down the folder, "So what is your talent, George's talent is touch, mine's sight, and Lucy's is her hearing," he says, as Lucy walks back in with our tea. I grab a cup, and out of the corner of my eye I can see Lockwood still looking at me.

"Touch mostly, I can touch something, and then get a picture of the person the object is connected to, or a memory, and sometimes if its strong enough I can hear it," I answer, explaining my talent a bit more.

"Well we can always use another person with the talent of touch," he says, "Now, I know this might seem strange, but I don't believe in hiring an agent based on recommendations. I like to see their talent in person, so if you could tell me what you feel or see when you touch each object I'll think you'll do just fine." He hands me an object covered by a cloth. He removes the cloth revealing a pocket knife, "Now what do you feel or see," he asks, placing it in my hands. When he does they briefly graze mine, making his face turn pink a bit, but he tries to hide it.

I hold on to it as I start to feel a happy feeling. I can see what looks like a man hunting, but he's smiling the whole time. I open my eyes to see Lockwood looking at me softly. When I notice he starts to stumble over his words, "So, umm... so what did you feel or see," he asks a bit frantically, as he takes the knife back.

"I felt a happy feeling, I could see what looked like a man hunting, but he seemed like he was in his happy place," I say, trying to hide my smile from Lockwood's actions.

He smiles back at me, "Perfect," he says looking at me, "This belonged to my uncle. He loved hunting, before he died of a stroke, but he was always happy hunting." He grabs the next object and opens the case, "Now what about this," he asks, handing me the object, this time seeming to purposefully graze my hand this time, making me have to try not to blush.

I take the watch but it feels different from the other one. This one is full of death and horror. I throw the watch onto the table, shocked from its intense feeling. "Why would you make me hold that, especially in a job interview," I say, frazzled from what I just felt.

Lockwood seems to try to look for words, "It's just part of the process, I swear you won't feel anything as horrible as that," he says calmly putting his hand on top of mine.

I lean forward again nodding, "Alright then, what's the next item," I ask, wanting to speed up this interview.

He uncovers what looks like a skull in a jar. He looks at me a little too long before saying, "I promise you this one will be fine," he assures me.

I put my hand on the jar and try to feel something. All I get is what sounds like mumbles and the feeling of discontent, which isn't unusual from the dead. "Just mumbling, and like every other spirit, doesn't want to be dead," I say looking back at Lockwood, who's already looking at me.

"Alright, just one last one then the jobs yours," he says, uncovering the last item, a toothbrush holder. I give him a weird look making him smile and look a bit flustered.

I grab it, but I feel nothing. There's no feeling, no words, no memories. I open my eyes, "There's nothing," I say, placing the cup down harder than I mean to. Across from me George starts to laugh.

"What's he laughing at," I ask confused.

Lockwood sighs, keeping up his smile, "Well I should hope you don't feel anything, this is just a normal toothbrush cup," he tells me lightly. But I don't take it that way.

I scoff, "I thought this was supposed to be professional, but clearly it is not," I say standing up, "I'm leaving." This causes Lockwood to stand up quickly catching my arm.

"Wait, just hear me out," he says, and I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt, "Its just to make sure you're telling the truth. Most people lie about it. We never meant to upset you, so if you still want the job it's yours," he asks, still holding on to my arm.

I sigh, "Fine, I'll take the job, but no more dumb shenanigans like that, or I will leave," I warn him.

He looks at his hand holding my arm before removing it, turning a slight shade of pink, and starting his sentence stumbling over a few words, "Of course, no more jokes, and the job is yours," he says sincerely.

I just nod, saying, "Good."

"Good," is all he says in response.

[thetormentita]

spes ultima dea - chapter 2

Audaces fortuna iuvat — Virgil.

Pairings: Ofc x Lucius Verus

A/n: maybe I left some things unwritten between first chapter and this one, maybe i’ll post some stuff in the future 🤔

Warnings: mentions of murder, sexual abuse and slavery; angst, maybe some fluff.

Rating: Explicit (+18)

Tagging list: @novaursa @maegelletargaryen @mmkkzz

She swings her legs from the second floor of the courtyard as she braids her hair, her eyes observing the lanista and the veteran gladiators training. The sun casts warm light on their swift maneuvers, spotlighting the sweat glistening on their skin, and she thinks they glow like the heroes of the tales she was told when she was a child.

Lost in reverie, she imagines herself among them, wielding a sword with courage, though she knows the life of a gladiator is far from what she was taught. If the Romans would not have come to her lands, she would be a ranger, or a soldier, bow in hand, eyes observing with attention her surroundings, or even a healer, but instead of learning from Ravi she would have been apprentice to the tiny woman with grey hair and crooked spine of her memories whose name is now forgotten beneath the mossy oaks of her village.

“Where the new ones?” The thick accent of the Dacian old slave behind her almost startles her, taking her back to reality.

“Macrinus took them. Dominus says they were to fight in a private party for the Emperors’s favourite.”

“I hope one o’ them cuts the throat of those brats” mumbles the woman, taking a stool and sitting behind her.

“Kata!” Alana turns to face her fellow slave, a woman that could almost be her grandmother with fiery red hair tinted with grayish hairs and the darkest eyes she has ever seen.

“Shut up and let me do yer hair.”

It is not her tribe, those are not her lands, but a part of her feels that the gods have given her a small tribe in replacement, full with warriors to fight back the enemies, and companions to share the burden of captivity.

“Quintus looks worried.” Mumbles Alana, almost pouting, her arms hanging from the bannister as well.

“When does he not look worried, lass? If he does not train the men good enough the ludus loses coin, ‘nd the first to be punished is ‘im.”

“The ludus never loses coin.”

It is strange to have the place that empty. With their dominus by the private event with the newest men and Ravi to help and their domina enjoying the free time far from her husband, the place almost looks like a haven, people from half of the empire gathered in a peaceful moment that might never come again.

“It did” Kata scoffs, her fingers swiftly braiding her long mane as she speaks, never pulling her hair. “The last time you were just a pup, too li’l to know anything. A general fell in disgrace and was sent ‘ere, and he was the best I have seen in many time. Ravi met ‘im too, he was fond of ‘im. A good man.”

“What happened to him?”

“Dead. All the good ones end up dead.”

Alana clenches her jaw, thoughtful as she watches the horizon. She wonders if the same fate awaits to those she holds dear.

…

“Look at me. Look at me.”

The healer hisses as he takes his face with a hand, forcing him to look at his face. A quick glance is enough for the Indian to know that, at least, the strongest of the newcomers can return to the ludus.

“He savaged my people” the gladiator grits as his hands clench in tight fists, his knuckles turning white with fury. “He took everything from me.”

Despite the defiant answer in proper Latin to the emperors, it still amazes him to hear the gladiator speak other than Punic.

“Who did it?” He muses, forcing him to sit down before him.

“The general.”

Their gazes meet, and a pang of sympathy hits the healer. He knows too well how he feels, how it is to have everything taken from you only because somebody at the other side of the world fancies it.

How much it had hurt for him. The memory still lingers, like a scar that refuses to fade, but he has grown used to that dull pain deep down in his chest. It fuels him, makes him stronger, more determined to mend the broken and save what can be saved.

“Keep your mind clear, you hear me? Your priority must be to earn your liberty.” Hanno is spirited, it shows, but in that moment Ravi has other thoughts forming in his head “Forget the general, the emperors and all those rats around. You have to win your battles and get your freedom.”

“But how—?”

Ravi takes a deep breath, his own victory sometimes still feels too recent.

“Win. Make the people like you, make the other gladiators follow you. Prove your worth, and soon the chains that bind you will break. I lived it myself.”

“Why are you here then?”

A sad smile tugs from the corners of the healer’s lips, and he casts his gaze to the ground. “I had nowhere to go. My village was razed to the ground and my people are dead or captured and slaved at the other corner of the empire. I forged my own family here, and the dominus saw it is more cheap to have me here tending at you than to make somebody else come.”

Ravi glances at Hanno, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. He has been at his side, he has been furious and violent, but he kept his mind straight. No chains, no walls could hold his spirit captive.

Hanno nods slowly, his resolve hardening like tempered steel.

“I saw good men dead because they were impulsive. Don’t make the same mistake.”

The distant echo of footsteps call the men’s attention, and Ravi is the one to stand up first, placing himself between Hanno and whoever approaches them. It could be the emperors, it could be their dominus, it could be one of the ladies witnessing the fight looking for a favour, it could be Nemesis herself finally claiming their souls.

“Should we call him our favourite this season, then?”

It is their dominus, visibly satisfied with the new acquisition. If he mourns the loss of the rest of the small group, his face does not show it. He approaches them like a vulture waiting for carrion, eyes gleaming with interest.

“Did anybody show any interest in Hanno?”

Ravi knows that for the man they are just faces, only his servants having name when it suits him.

“Apparently the general’s wife, and possibly a senator or two… The season is still young, don’t you think?”

Behind him, Hanno stays stiff, his eyes observing them, and it only takes a stretched palm for Ravi to make him think twice about engaging in any hasty confrontations.

“My advice is to rotate the men as last season, dominus. They all are strong, and whenever they expect the least, they will see Hanno fighting at his best, taking every bout with technique and strength. We all know he has it, and the commoners will adore seeing him in action.”

It hurts him to ignore the Numidian in such way in front of him, but he knows how things go by the tunnels under the amphitheatre, and the least he wants is to get him or himself hurt in the process.

The dominus chuckles softly, an unsettling sound that sends a shiver down Ravi's spine.

“Of course. You see it all, don’t you? Well then, let us make sure this season is as entertaining as ever. Send our favourite to the baths, and make the lass tend to him.” Ravi bows his head, concealing the discomfort beneath his calm demeanor as the dominus throws them a crooked smile “A gift. For his worth.”

A gift.

Ravi sighs when their owner is far enough from them, his breath mingling with the cool air. He turns to Hanno, seeing the silent questions etched on the man’s face like shadows.

…

A gift.

The last time somebody talked about her as a gift things had ended quite bad for her, with bruises and pain for days, and nightmares for months. But it is the curious stranger this time, not any brute with more muscle than common sense, and she thinks she should not be afraid of him, because he has let her tend to his wounds with unexpected gentleness.

Yet uneasiness flows her senses, almost making her flinch when she hears any noise, her eyes falling to the ground of the room, only the water from the pool providing a steady, soothing rhythm to calm her racing thoughts.

Would he be gentle or prefer to split her in half? Or maybe he wants her to do all the work? What if he prefers the company of men instead of women?

She is lost in her doubts and fears when she can hear footsteps approaching, soft against the stone floor. She closes her eyes for a moment, her instincts hitting hard, and she can spot two different people—no, it is three of them. Her heart races as the footsteps draw closer. The air grows tense, heavy with uncertainty, as she braces herself for their arrival.

But only one crosses the entrance.

“Alana…”

She raises her eyes only to meet his, the purest blue she has ever seen greeting her with a gentle warmth. It feels almost like a promise that perhaps things will be different this time.

“I heard you won. The dominus wants me to take care of you.”

Her hands, clasped at her front, twitch slightly. Her instinct is to pull them away, to melt into the shadows where she feels safe but, instead, she steadies her breathing, forcing herself to remain present.

“Ravi has tended to your wounds?” He nods, and his gaze softens. “Good. Now, you have to get into the water.” As she talks, she pushes herself to approach him, to help him get undressed. “I have soap and oils to help you get rid of the dirt.”

She bites her lower lip as her fingers work deftly to unlace his tunic. Her actions are clinical, but her eyes betray a flicker of hesitation. She wants to think that he is a good man, but she knows well that good men can turn into cruel shadows in an instant. Her heart warns her as much, a constant reminder of past betrayals, moments of despair that costed her a part of her willingness and her strength.

Still, she can't avoid the hope budding in the recesses of her heart.

“What happens?” He mumbles in a perfect Latin, making her stop for just a moment, her fingers pausing in their task, her brain trying to assimilate that she was right and he is more than a Numidian soldier subdued by the pet of the emperors.

“You… You can understand me?” She raises her eyes, wide open, to meet his again as a slow smile creeps onto his lips.

“Yes,” he replies quietly, a hint of warmth in his voice.

“But how—?”

“It is a long story.” He glances to the water with a weary face. “But something troubles you.”

She hesitates, her hands still over his garments, almost like wanting the clothes to keep his nudity to himself.

“I— I am your gift. From the dominus.” She mumbles, her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze still observing his face, expectant of what his reaction will be. “I—It means that you…”

“I know what it means” his rough hands upon hers stop her words. His touch is gentle, not at all like how she imagined it. “I will not force you, I swear” he reassures, his eyes seeking hers with sincerity. “I give you my word.”

She releases a breath she doesn’t realize she has been holding, a flood of relief washing over her as his thumbs trace soft circles upon the back of her hands, almost like wanting to soothe her worries. All she can do is to lower her head and mutter her thanks, a single and betraying tear rolling down her face. He notices the tear, and she flinches when he brushes it away with a finger, softly, as if afraid to break her. Her heart pounds, both from relief and the unusual tenderness he's shown.

“Come on, to the water.” She mumbles as she tilts her head to the pool, letting his clothing slip past her fingers and lay on the floor.

His expression softens, caught somewhere between curiosity and vulnerability, as he steps towards the shimmering surface. A silent groan escaping his lips as the warm water envelops his weary body, easing tension he didn’t realize he carried. She observes him as he sinks deeper into the pool, watching the water ripple around him.

It certainly is a relief for him to not have to bear with his burdens alone. He glances up at her, grateful for her company, and motions her to join him.

“Oh, no.”

“Why not?”

Her gaze flickers toward one of the corners of the room, where the dancing light of a candle casts shadows that dance upon the water.

“I am here to take care of you. Maybe some other day.”

She looks at the gladiator and she doesn’t see a man defined by blood and battle, but rather someone yearning for solace, desperately trying to find peace in a world that refuses him rest. Others are fueled by vicious rage and sorrow, and she thinks that he may be keeping his own pains deep down where no one can see them. She finds herself wishing she could offer him more than a moment of tranquility, something lasting.

Hanno sighs when he settles himself in the water, steam easing his muscles and breathing life into his weary spirit. She observes his features sculpted by the flickering light and she decides he is handsome despite the filth clinging to his body.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Do tell.”

“You were the only one who came speaking Latin. How—?”

He bites his inner cheek, thoughtful, and she approaches him meanwhile, kneeling behind him with soap, oils and cloth.

“I grew up in the port. My father was a merchant.” He turns to face her, slightly surprised to find her behind him, ready to start “Got an idea. Why don’t we play a game? For every question you want to ask me, I can ask one in return. What do you think?” A soft smile curves her lips as she dips the soap bar in the water, his eyes observing her hands, her swift and bony fingers moving with gentle precision.

“Fine by me.” She mumbles, and with care she puts one of her hands atop his head, softly making him face the front as her fingers stroke his hair with care.

“My turn then. How old are you?”

“Don’t really know. I came here before starting bleeding. I have always been at the ludus.” She dips the soap again in the water before starting to scrub it gently against his hair. “How is Numidia? Ravi only said it is past the sea.”

“Boiling hot” a soft giggle escapes his lips as he lets her do, and she smiles at the sound of it. “But you get used to it. Most of all rocks and desert if you go to the south. I lived near the sea, and you can find some more life there. What about your home?”

Her home. It sounds strange to her, because she had forced herself to adapt to a life she never wished for.

“Forests. Enormous green fields” she tries to focus on what she is doing so the memories hurt less. “You can hunt deer and rabbit, and if you are lucky even boar… I once almost shoot down a wolf, but I was small and my arrows were too little for the animal. There was a tree in my village that was up to the sky, and I liked to climb it and see the stars at night, but Mama always got angry and said I would twist a leg or break my head…” She finds herself clenching her jaw, trying her best to keep herself serene. “Dip your head, I need to take the soap from your hair.”

He does as she says and she allows herself a trembling sigh when he can’t hear her. Despite having taken her own situation and forced herself to adapt and see the bright side of it, sometimes she can’t help but feel a longing for the life she had been forced to leave behind.

To distract herself she buries her fingers in his hair again, and allows herself to pass them along his scalp, brushing it softly, only returning her hands to both sides of her lap as he sits up, wiping the excess water from his eyes. “Thank you,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “I never imagined a healer could offer comfort beyond just remedying the body.” He passes a hand along his hair, and a soft smile appears upon her face “How did you became a healer?”

“Well, healing comes in many forms,” she replies, allowing warmth to fill her voice. “I started to follow Ravi around the ludus, and he showed me. By the time they realized it was cheaper to have Ravi stay in the ludus, I was already helping him.”

There is a question lingering in the air, and neither of them wish to speak it out loud, because it only brings pain.

“I like your braid. It suits you.”

A smile lingers upon Alana’s lips. Maybe it is the first compliment she gets in many time. One of her hands go to her own hair, her fingertips brushing over the elaborated work of Kata.

She could swear she is blushing with Hanno’s words.

“Do you like it?” He hums in approval, leaning against the wall of the pool to let her do better, and Alana’s quick mind starts to imagine him doing what Ravi did, earning his freedom and being remembered fondly by it.

She realizes that when Hanno looks at her, something deep down stirs, like a distant echo of hope calling her heart to soften its guard.

“You were trembling before” Hanno takes one of her hands, studying it as if the answers lay in her palm, his fingertips tracing shapeless figures on the skin, almost trying to soothe her sorrow. “How many times—?”

She frowns, clenching her jaw. “It’s hard to say,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “A few. Too many,” she adds, her eyes distant. Hanno nods, sensing the weight of what remains unspoken.

“I— I am sorry” he murmurs, guilt lacing his voice. Yet, there is an understanding in his eyes, a silent vow to share her burden. “If you want, I can help,” he offers, his grip on her hand tightening slightly, offering his strength.

“I don’t see how you can help.”

“They won’t touch you as long as I am around.” She lifts her gaze, studying him intently. There is a resolve in his eyes that she hadn’t noticed before, a fierce protectiveness she finds comforting. “I mean it,” he insists, meeting her gaze with unwavering determination.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Building Bridges (Male!Reader x Jason Grace)

Any domestic headcannons for Jason Grace? Just general cute and romantic stuff when deeper into a relationship with the guy.

Percy likes to joke that Jason's lucky there hasn't been a Pontifex since the times of ancient Rome, because he basically gets to assign himself his own duties and hours.

It's hard, having resigned the title of praetor and left behind the Legion. No one's really sure where Jason belongs, and after the rigidity of a legionnaire's life, it's unsettling, to say the least.

He ends up getting contacts a few years in after one too many times of losing his glasses on top of his head.

This relieves a lot of his stress, as repeatedly putting on and taking off his glasses tended to give him headaches.

He and Piper drift apart - mainly because they had chased the idea of being together so long that when it came to actually being together, they had no idea of what to do.

Besides, Piper still had to figure out how she felt about Hera's false memories of their relationship she still had, and trying to "get back there"

They remain friends and are in fact much better friends than they were partners. It was Piper that Jason came out to about his own bisexuality later on.

Jason takes his time with things, not rushing into dating because he feels like he has to or needs to fill a void. Instead he tries to learn who he is, establish a support system with Percy, Thalia, Frank, Annabeth, Hazel, and Nico.

He travels often for his duties as pontifex, seeking out gods and spirits to see how they would be honored.

In a lot of ways, he sort of gets to decide what the gods will become.

Since they depend so dearly on human perception of them, and will evolve accordingly, Jason can, by dictating their worship and temples, dictate the path they will follow.

So with a such a heavy and important duty as his main job, he really does like to clearly delineate between his life as pontifex and his time with family, friends, and loved ones.

Jason may not be particularly spontaneous or even exciting, but he is incredibly attentive and reliable.

Jason has worked so hard on his own mental health and well-being that he really does become a safe space for someone he loves.

He's a master at listening without judgment and allowing you to vent.

But he also has a mind like a steel trap, and he will remember things you like, things you want, and your habits.

Definitely the boyfriend who seems to read your mind, simply because he's so observant. He'll automatically have your preferred snacks and drinks in stock.

You'll also find little notes he writes to himself to remind himself of things, like "Pick up snax (for Y/N <3)

Or little lists of your favorite shows you've recommended he watch because otherwise he'll forget.

He lives in a small but really nice little house in New Rome, set up more like a large apartment than a house is.

Basically, it is ready for you to move into like, the moment you stay over the first time.

I think Jason becomes more fond of sturdy clothes as he gets older. Thicker jackets with long sleeves to hide his Legion brand, probably a cowboy hat or baseball cap to hold his longer hair out of his face.

I think he definitely gets hat hair a lot and finds it hilarious and cute when you notice it and ruffle it to get it out of that slicked back shape.

Jason might not always be good at it the first time, but he does like to plan dates and excursions. Organization and chores can be tough for him, but he also has some immense self-discipline.

And then he'll just have the most random moments where he'll act on an impulse without thinking and spend several moments visibly looking disappointed in himself.

Jason is highly physically affectionate, draping himself over you and often times nibbling at your neck or ear.

He also really likes to have you leaning against him or even in his lap, even if you two are doing different things.

It might be a reassurance thing, or a touch-starved thing.

As far as marriage goes, I don't think Jason would propose it but he'd absolutely say yes if proposed to. In New Rome, everyone already knows you two are a couple, and it's not like there are tax or legal benefits to worry about, so it's not something that crosses his mind.

He refers to you as his partner, or when feeling romantic, his "other half."

Jason is actually a really good cook, but he needs something to help him focus, or to keep him on track.

Jason is a snuggler, but ONLY when awake. When he sleeps, he seems to keep some space. Probably because he overheats quickly. Even under a blanket, this man always has a leg out or the blanket pushed down to his hips.

He likes to involve you in his day and thoughts but doesn't push you to do the same. Though he loves being included.