#all this Shit is random but I realized that if I put my effort into a few things academically that I haven’t even shared in these tags -

[dollfacefantasy]

Would you ever write a prequel to Sharing is Caring? Like when Leon says to Chris, “Trust me, she’ll be into it. I can’t even tell you how wet she gets just from talking about shit like this,” or when he’s just talking to reader about how wet she gets when thinking about someone else watching her with Leon, would you ever write a small drabble or something based on that scenario that obviously took place before the threesome with Chris? I hope you understand what I mean! 😭

yeah bb i got you <3

leon kennedy x fem!reader

prequel to this fic

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, guided masturbation, daddy kink, mentions of spanking, exhibitionism, threesome w/ chris, p in v, blowjobs, and cum

so when i wrote that part, i was thinking it happened on multiple occasions between reader and leon. this is how i believe one of those times would go *dream harp music and dissolve transition*

Today had been a lazy day for you and Leon since the two of you woke up that morning. The bedroom was dim from the overcast sky outside, and music played softly in the background as you and your boyfriend cuddled in bed and talked about nothing. It was your personal heaven on earth. The prettiest slice of paradise you could imagine.

You laughed at his corny jokes while he entertained random questions you’d asked him. Eventually the conversation reached a lull, and in the brief pause, you remembered something you’d been meaning to ask him.

“We’re still going to that work dinner for you on Friday, right?” you ask, glancing over at him.

“Mhm,” he responds, “Why?”

“Gotta get my nails done,” you answer.

He can’t help smiling at that. The effort you put in for him was adorable.

“Yeah? What color you gonna do this time?” he asks.

“Red.”

“Why red?” he says, reaching over to stroke your cheek.

“Cause aren’t guys supposed to like red the most?” you say as if it’s the most obvious fact in the world.

“You know I like what you like, baby,” he chuckles and leans in to kiss your neck.

“Yeah, but it’s a dinner full of guys. I gotta impress them for you. Can’t have your work people thinking your girlfriend is less than the best,” you say.

He exhales sharply at your attitude, finding it funny. 

“So you’re painting your nails for other men?” he teases, “Be careful or I might get jealous.”

A smile rises to your lips, and you squirm a little from the way he’s kissing your neck. In truth, Leon loved showing you off. It drove him up the wall when guys’ stares would linger on your cleavage or cast down to your backside. They could look all they wanted, but you were all his. And you knew he felt that way, which is why it drove you a special type of crazy when he’d play with you like this.

“No, I'm painting them for you. So your work guys will be impressed and jealous of you,” you say.

“Ahh, I see,” he says, feigning realization, “You want them all to see that you’re such a good girl, right?”

His voice drops and it hits you straight between your legs. You fidget a little, masking your desire with a laugh. Nodding playfully, you act as if it’s a joke rather than your honest motivation.

“That’s why I gotta wear a pretty dress too,” you tease back.

“I see. It better not show off too much though, else I might have to take you over my knee right then and there. They rent out a private dining room, y’know. I could do it. Show them all how I keep my good girl in line,” he whispers.

He nips at your throat, and now you’re officially turned on. The heat in your cheeks and neck migrate south to fester between your hips. Your thighs rub against one another in a pathetic attempt to sate yourself for the time being. He notices of course, and that only means he’s not stopping any time soon.

“Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he breathes, “You’d like getting to whine and pout while everyone watches you get put in your place, hm?”

Tingles spread throughout your chest through your tummy. His hand slips beneath your shirt and rubs up and down your side. The painfully slow pace of his palm brings chills over you.

“Answer me,” he whispers.

“Yeah, I’d like it,” you say. Your voice was short and quiet as it often was in moments like these.

He chuckles and moves his hand up to your breast. Your nipples had stiffened into little peaks against the cloth of your top. He pinches one as he licks a stripe up your neck.

Shuddering, you whine for him, “Leon.”

“If you said that in front of them, that’d earn you a couple more smacks. What are you supposed to call me?” he prompts.

“Daddy…” you correct yourself with a whimper.

“That’s my girl,” he croons.

His hand continues to fondle your breast for a few moments more before his hand leaves your chest and grabs your jaw. He tilts your head in his direction, so you have to look in his eyes.

“That’s what you’d cry out in front of all of daddy’s friends. That’d really show ‘em you’re a good girl. It’d show ‘em more than any dress or color on your nails,” he says before connecting his lips with yours.

He kisses you deeply, slipping some tongue into your mouth and holding the back of your head to keep you close. His movements lead yours, luring you further into the lustful exchange with him. When he pulls back, you’re breathless with puffy, wet lips. His eyes have clouded with the desire to toy with you.

Now his hand slides down to your panties. The pretty garment had already started to dampen and cling to your cunt. He pets you over the barrier, teasing you with the anticipation of what’s to come.

“You’d be perfect, spread across my lap, ass out in these cute little things. Which pair would you wear?” he teases, nuzzling you as his fingers start to increase the pressure.

“The ones you bought me for my birthday,” you answer.

“Good choice,” he grins, “You’d look so precious in those, even more with your skirt bunched up over the top of them.”

You squirm a bit, wanting more from him, but he keeps up the same light caresses to your center.

“I know you’d love it, babydoll. I can just see it,” he whispers, “You’d love being the center of attention, having all those eyes on you. You know they’d all talk about you too. They’d talk like you weren’t even there. They’d talk about how pretty and cute you are, how sweet you look while taking your spanking, how much they want a girl like you all to themselves.”

All you can respond with is a soft whine. Your heels slide against the mattress as you fight to maintain some sliver of composure. And he continues running his mouth.

“They’d all get so hard for you, princess. Especially Chris. He’s gonna be there on Friday. He’s got a little crush on you,” he teases.

That snaps you out of your lustful daze. You’d met Chris a few times before this. He was nice enough. The two of you didn’t really have anything in common except Leon.

“He does not,” you say softly, rolling your eyes.

His eyebrows raise with amusement. “Does too,” he insists.

“He does not. You just want someone to tease me with,” you say before his mouth is back on yours, silencing your words with a kiss.

“Trust me, baby. He does. Bet he strokes it to you every night,” he murmurs against your lips.

You don’t want to admit the spark of heat that strikes in your belly at the thought of that. You’d be lying if you told Leon you didn’t find Chris attractive. He fits right in with your type. He was older, big and muscular, and condescendingly affectionate. All you can muster in response is a muffled “no he doesn’t.”

“Mhm, I can tell by the way he looks about you. And he’s always asking about you too. He’s got a thing for you, sweetheart. Wishes he could be your daddy instead of me,” he says. His voice comes out husky from the close proximity to you.

A little moan slips from your lips just as his hand slides into your panties to play with your clit. The pad of his middle finger finds it with ease. With the amount of times he’s made you cum, he’s sure he could find it while he’s sleeping. He presses down on the swollen bud and swirls his digit lightly.

“I know he’d love to see you get spanked like a little brat. But his favorite part would be the ending. The part where all those smacks have knocked some sense into you and you’re back to being a good girl. I think he’d jizz his pants if he saw your puppy eyes while you begged me to stop,” he whispers.

More arousal drips from you as you picture the scene your boyfriend is setting. You still weren’t fully convinced Chris was into you, but fuck, it was hot to imagine he was. Your mind conjures visions of his eyes locked on you. In your fantasy, he’s flushed, lip between his teeth as he wishes he could have a turn. He palms himself over his pants lazily, not putting in enough effort to distract him from the sight before his eyes. Your voice would be begging for Leon to stop, but your eyes would be begging for him.

Leon can see how into the idea you are so he continues. Simultaneously, his finger down below increases its pace on your bundle of nerves.

“You like thinking about that?” he coos mockingly, “But that’d be kind of cruel, wouldn’t it? Dangling you in front of him like that. Maybe I’d have to give the poor guy a break, let Chris come along with us after all the others had gone their own way. Let him see just how good you are for your daddy in private.”

Your eyes are starting to gloss with desire as he draws you further into this dream.

“Would you like that, honey? Letting Chris see this beautiful body, letting him see how well you can behave when you want to. If you were really really good, maybe I’d even let him play with you too,” he purrs.

Internally, your heart jolts. You had never brought up your interest in threesomes to Leon. He knew you had a bit of an affinity for being watched, but the potential conversation about being shared scared you. It was something that turned you on like damn near nothing else, but in reality, you weren’t certain of it. Plus, if he wasn’t into it, it’d be something you could never come back from.

The relief you felt from him bringing it up on his own was immeasurable.

You nod to answer his question.

“Use your words, babydoll,” he says.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he praises. 

His hand slides down to cup your pussy before he pushes two fingers into your cunt. You whine at the intrusion, but your hole was used to the sensation. He had your breath hitching and your eyes fluttering within a couple of pumps.

“You could sit in my lap while he fucked you. I’d hold you the whole time like the sweet thing you are while he stretched you out,” he says, “Or we could take turns with you, one after the other, fucking you till you were seeing stars.”

You nod again and arch your back slightly. “Please daddy. Want that,” you whimper.

“I know you do, sweet girl. I wouldn’t want you getting overwhelmed though. Your mind has less stamina than that pretty pussy does,” he teases.

Your lip juts out into a pout at his taunt, but it’s quickly wiped away by a mewl that erupts from you when he curls his fingers inside you.

“I think it might be better to let Chris fuck you and get you all warmed up for me. Then I could take over, and you could suck him off. I’d make that cute cunt cry on my cock for a while, and you could get a taste of him. I know you love having something in your mouth.”

“Yeah daddy,” you whine. 

He rubs his palm against your clit as his fingers fly back and forth, working you closer towards the edge. In the same rhythm he was grinding his bulge on your hip. He was rock hard beneath his boxers. The hypothetical situation was clearly getting to him just as much as it was getting to you.

“I’d be the one fucking your pussy full of cum just like you needed. And if you’d shown Chris what a perfect angel you are, I’d let you choose if he came in your mouth or all over your gorgeous face,” he says.

His eyes close as he rolls his hips with a little more force. He throbs in his boxers. Your head tilts back, allowing him to kiss your neck a few times before speaking again.

“I know you’d probably pick swallow, but I think all of us would love to see your face painted with his cum. Maybe let him pretend for a second that you belong to him,” he grunts.

“I’d pick on my face cause I know you’d wanna see it,” you whimper. And it was true. The most pleasurable thing in the world was Leon’s approval. It brought you more satisfaction than any orgasm or cum shot ever could.

“Such a good girl,” he moans, “That’s my baby. Another guy’s cum on your face, but all you can think to do is please your daddy.”

Both of you hit your highs almost in time with each other. You’re a little quicker than Leon which is fortunate since he loses precision when he cums. You feel like you burn into a blaze of euphoria when it hits, your body rapidly heating up. It’s like you’re light as a feather and floating through a blissful abyss of comfort. He cums in a more intense burst. His hips buck against the plush flesh of your hip. He locks his free hand on you to keep you close so he can thrust against your warmth till he’s empty.

The two of you lay there for a few moments after, taking a second to calm down. You feel like you could fall asleep at any second. You barely register Leon stumbling out of bed to clean himself up and change. He hits the fan on the way back to bed,which you’re grateful for.

As soon as he’s back in bed, you roll over and drape your limbs across him. He nuzzles the side of your head with a few kisses.

“You need a nap now, baby?” he asks softly.

“Mhm,” you mumble back.

“Close your eyes for me then, pretty girl. Get some rest,” he says before smirking and whispering in your ear, “Just promise me you’re not gonna dream about Chris now.”

You whine and lightly jab your knee against his ribs.

“Shut up, Leon.”

[agendabymooner]

stop the world i wanna get off with you ! kimi r. x ofc (coppola!ofc)

“with the exception of you, i dislike everyone in the room.”

summary: vera jones ‘coppa’ coppola-raikkonen happens to be one of the three original it girls of formula one. funnily enough, she’s also the one to give birth to the loudest/messiest versions of the iceman as she continues her journey as a mother and a wife (all while she’s a director of the most iconic movies to have existed).

content warning: fictional raikkonen kids, mentions of breakups, mentions of tilly hearth and trish alonso (ofc) use of explicit language, family banters in social media

note: i know i have the most random selection of drivers on my masterlist but i swear i’m just tryna indulge in my lil bubble of happiness.

masterlist

tagged romaraikkonen, kimimatiasraikkonen

liked by arthurleclerc, olliebearman, charles_leclerc

user1 icegirl on fire as always 🧊🔥

user2 real hot girl shit of you roma 😩

arthurleclerc aroma, you’re supporting the wrong leclerc 😀 liked by veracopparaikko

romaraikkonen i can tell you that my shirts are nothing of an inchident. trust. liked by veracopparaikko

charles_leclerc i cannot believe i am being picked on by my favourite icegirl 😠

romaraikkonen hardly picking on you when i got ur name and face on my shirts??? smh i didn’t ask mum to get them for me to get called a h8r

rooraikkonen cool story maniac, can you run over jolauriraikkonen next?

romaraikkonen i’ll start with you first then i go target johann next, yes?

jolauriraikkonen what did i do??? i didn’t leave your pc plugged in, akka rooraikkonen witch

veracopparaikko kimimatiasraikkonen your kids are at it again, kimi.

kimimatiasraikkonen not my problem

veracopparaikko 😠

jolauriraikkonen it’s okie mum i’ll make sure dad sleeps on the couch tonight 😉

jolauriraikkonen dad did say 3 sprint races win = i get to go to the next three races too 😍 thank you for the team effort romaraikkonen liked by veracopparaikko

romaraikkonen omagaaaaa these are officially the worst races ever

ferraridriveracademy how are we going to put you two together in one room then?

romaraikkonen don’t.

jolauriraikkonen i’m gonna sob, this is a w for me

romaraikkonen what are you even doing up??? aren’t u like 14?

veracopparaikko question is: why are you even on your instagram? 🤨

jolauriraikkonen oh so when dad does it, it’s okay? he has to get up early too you know???

kimimatiasraikkonen please don’t involve me in this

user3 we love an unproblematic king 😭😭

user4 why are these kids so funny 🥲

kimimatiasraikkonen so proud of my girl 🧊❤️ liked by veracopparaikko

romaraikkonen like father like daughter 😉❤️🤝

tagged rooraikkonen, kimimatiasraikkonen

liked by landonorris, tillywolff, valterribottas

jolauriraikkonen 1/10. she looked more like the bottom of beetlejuice’s foot than the lady herself.

user1 naw johann-lauri got kimi’s humour for sure

rooraikkonen i’m gonna crash to your kart next time and you’re going to be crying to dad and dad will literally just laugh at you

kimimatiasraikkonen no, i won’t.

user2 LMFAO KIMI PLEASE

jolauriraikkonen hahahahahahaha cry

kimimatiasraikkonen second time this day, johann. next time i’m taking the switch. liked by veracopparaikko

user3 ruh-roh raikkonen is at it

jolauriraikkonen my bad g 🤝

kimimatiasraikkonen all good g 🤝

user4 a proof that johann is kimi-coded ^^

rooraikkonen thank you sooooo much mummy !!! i thought i was going to cry for a minute then i realized how much of a baddie my mummy-producer-writer-director is 😭😩 liked by veracopparaikko

veracopparaikko you fluster me, rooney tunes! ❤️

kimimatiasraikkonen your performance is very good, rooroo! henrik and betty were excited to see you on stage 😍 liked by veracopparaikko

rooraikkonen dad, betty-elina can barely hear from that headphones we got her.

rooraikkonen though i could hear henrik’s screaming during the intermission. 😂

rooraikkonen thank you daddy !! i’m glad i’m making the iceman proud 🧊💕 liked by veracopparaikko

tagged kimimatiasraikkonen, jolaurisraikkonen

liked by arthurleclerc, olliebearman, fernandoalo_oficial

jolauriraikkonen y���all cannot one up my mother because her resume is long as heck. she’s: mother, director, writer, actor, producer, photographer 😎 liked by veracopparaikko

jolauriraikkonen look at me and the boys though 😎

user1 you’re the coolest brother ever

rooraikkonen bc he’s the only brother henrik got 😂😂😂

user2 iceman and his iceboys and his ice cream

user3 too cold in here lads 🥶

romaraikkonen look at my cool lil man and dad 😍 oh and johann liked by veracopparaikko

jolauriraikkonen count ur days bestie

user4 where did the american-italian look go, vera?? 😭

rooraikkonen speaking on behalf of mum. the coppola genes had gone away as soon as romania came out, but uncle nicolas cage definitely did not leave

user4 subtle flex but okay pop off bestie 🔥

kimimatiasraikkonen such handsome boys liked by veracopparaikko

veracopparaikko i agree

romaraikkonen so do i

rooraikkonen me too

jolauriraikkonen i agree too

[itsa-me-lily]

Okay, it's here, holy shit I did it. Here is the Simon x Thimble Christmas Fic that I dragged out kicking and screaming.

Here is the MPS AU master playlist

Here is Simon & Thimble playlist

Content warnings;

Not really any I can think of? I make a joke involving ham. If anyone finds an issue let me know.

Christmas, a time of year where everything sparkled a little brighter, the world a little kinder, and the perfect way to show someone you cared was with a gift. At least that's what all the commercials said. You could admit it was little pessimistic to view the holiday but well, capitalism did that to a person.

As a kid it was certainly a more magical time, though your mom had more to do with it than anything else. You could appreciate the amount of effort she put into making sure you started the day excited for the possibilities and ended it content with the spoils of a year of good behavior.

Even as adults your mom tried to make sure that the day was good. What was probably the best part was that you could make sure the day was just as good for her as it was for you. Plus there was an extra adult to rope into being your helpful elf. Well there was supposed to be.

You knew Simon didn't have a choice for when he was sent out on missions, but he did seem to draw the universal short straw for being sent out a week before Christmas with no return date in sight. Not that he had been complaining at the time. You were almost convinced he was happy to go given the conversation you had had days prior to him leaving.

"So what do you do for Christmas?"

You'd of thought that you'd asked the man this in a dead language the way he had stared at you as he held greens for the boys to nibble and pull at during floor time. It was a reasonable question and you knew it.

"Don't look at me like that. My mom wants to know if we're going over to hers for Christmas or Christmas Eve. We want to make sure that we're not stepping on toes."

The look on his face either meant he was confused or constipated, and the weekly meals you brought to base was suppose to be helping with the second thing.

When it was clear that you weren't going to retract your question, Simon huffed, looking down at Baker who had gladly made himself comfortable in Simon's lap, and was trying to wriggle into his sweatshirt.

"I don't."

"You don't..."

"Do Christmas."

There were many times where your statements had left your husband to blink at you in response, this was one that had the tables turned.

"You don't do Christmas?"

"Yup."

"Any particular reason as to why?"

It really wasn't an issue if Simon did or didn't celebrate Christmas, you just didn't want to do something that'd insult his family heritage or something.

"Just don't."

Well that answered so much.

"So you've never celebrated Christmas?"

Simon Riley could be Jewish for all you knew, though that would make the times you a gave him a ham sandwich awkward.

Simon was silent for a few minutes, as if he was weighing his words as he idly scratching under Baker's chin.

"It's been a long time since I've celebrated it."

You had wanted to ask what he had meant by that, had wanted to ask so badly, but something had stopped you. He hadn't sounded sad exactly when he had said it, but more like he was remembering something sad.

You restacked the boys cups in silence, letting Jiji and Tombo go to town on them as they searched for the treats you hid in random levels. You didn't want to push too hard but you also didn't just want to leave the guy alone when you went to your mothers.

"So...would you be willing to go to my mom's with me? For Christmas."

The moment seemed to only have room for the sound of tossed plastic cups and weighted silence. You hadn't realized you were holding your breath until Simon had spoken, almost hesitantly.

"Your mum do a good roast?"

"Only the best."

"...Guess I'd be willing to go for that."

You couldn't help but grin then, the breath you were holding coming out in a rush of blooming contentment. Little steps.

Yet here you were, Christmas Eve, standing outside your mother's house as you dialed your husband's cell phone number, knowing he probably wouldn't pick up. You were right, he didn't.

You couldn't help but chuckle at hearing the voicemail set up he had, something that said to state what you wanted and hang up. It was short, curt, and completely him.

"Simon Riley you're missing all the fun. We got a turkey with all the sides and fixings that'll feed us for weeks. Plus there's matching sweaters-"

Beep

Wow this man really did expect people to keep it short. With a sigh you redialed his number, leaning against the side of the house even as a chill seeped into your sweater.

"Simon. Leave your message and hang up."

"Like I was saying, there's matching sweaters. Had to search a little for one in your size but don't worry we weren't going to have you miss out it. Even got-"

Beep

"Even got you a stocking. It's a paper one for now, but I decorated it myself. Put Si-si up on top in sparkly black glitter glue. Figured you'd appreciate the-"

Beep

"The color choice."

You thought about what you wanted to say next, long enough that the voice mail timer ended, hanging up the call. With a deep sigh you looked up at the sky, admiring the few stars you could see as you hit the redial button.

"Simon. Leave your message and hang up."

"Would have been nice to have you here. But maybe next year...Merry Christmas Simon."

You let the call end for the final time, just as snow was starting to fall. You admired it in the glow of your mother's door light, wondering when Simon would be back to get your series of messages.

January. Simon wasn't back until the tail end of January and he didn't know how he felt about it. Sure Price had apologized for pulling them all so close to the holidays, but honestly, at the time Simon hadn't minded.

No you hadn't forced him to agree to go to your mums, but he could still tell that you hadn't wanted to just leave him behind during Christmas. Not that he would have minded.

For years Christmas had been this black hole of things he didn't think about. Didn't think about the few decent ones from his childhood. Didn't think about the first Christmas that Tommy had been clean and sober for. Especially didn't think about the last Christmas with any of them, or the present for Joseph he had held onto for years after being unable to give it to him.

So no, he hadn't been disappointed when the call came in for deployment. But listening to your voicemails now...he could say that it probably wouldn't have been awful to go. He was going to burn the supposed Si-Si stocking, and there was no way in hell he'd ever wear a Christmas sweater.

What he was now though, was worried. The team had managed to come in early enough that he had been ready to get home for a late morning nap. Or would have been. If you hadn't had objected otherwise.

Simon: Back. ETA Soon. Thimble: Don't come home yet.

Simon: Why?

Thimble: Because.

Simon: Because why?

Thimble: Because I said so.

Simon: What did you do?

Thimble: What's with all the questions? Just fucking wait till I tell you to come back.

Simon was half convinced that you had murdered a man and was trying to get rid of the body. Given his occupation he would have assumed that you'd be eager for his assistance. He had history of getting bloodstains out.

Still what was the saying? Happy wife happy life? If you wanted Simon to stay away until you called him back he could do that. The breakroom couch wasn't as comfortable as the one you had picked out for the house, but Simon was used to sleeping anywhere. After managing to get a few fitful hours of sleep and several productive hours of paperwork he finally got his text to come home. Time to see what it was you had been up to.

Simon...hadn't been prepared for it to be this. He had been expecting a range from you having bought out an entire craft store, to having suddenly adopted fifteen more pigs, to straight up illegal activity. But there was no sudden influx of crafts, pigs, or bloodstains. Instead when he walked into your home it was...Christmas. Or as close to Christmas as one could get four weeks after the fact.

There was a tiny plastic tree standing proudly on the coffee table, and five stockings hanging up under the TV. He half expected to see the infamous paper stocking, a sore thumb in the crowd. But instead there were five identical ones, save for the names embroidered onto each one. Yours, Jiji, Tombo, Baker, and his.

A kitchen timer was the only thing that drew his gaze away from the family of stockings. He turned his head in time to see you pull a turkey from the oven, the heat making your face flush. The kitchen told quite the story. The sink was full of dishes, even with the dishwasher chugging away, but the counter space was full of dishes.

Besides the turkey Simon could see stuffing and roasted potatoes, Yorkshire puddings and brussels sprouts. Hell it looked like you even made a little dish of mushy peas, even though he knew you didn't like them. At least Simon waited for you to set the turkey on the stove top before questioning everything.

"What's all this about?

You shrugged, stuffing your hands into the back pocket of your jeans.

"Dinner?"

"It's Christmas dinner."

"I know."

"Why?"

Simon hadn't meant to put you on the spot but he was just so confused as to why you'd go through the effort of cooking a Christmas dinner now.

"You missed the one at my mom's."

"So this is for me?"

"Yeah, it is."

That...threw Simon for a loop. It hadn't been that big of a deal to him. It wasn't the first Christmas dinner he'd miss. He didn't doubt that it wouldn't be the last. But you still went through the effort to give him something. He wanted to question further but the words wouldn't come to him. Instead he just stood there in a vortex of feelings that were caught in his chest at realizing you went through all the effort to give Simon a Christmas that he missed.

While Simon was caught in his inner turmoil, you bustled around, setting a plate in his hands and telling him to have as much as he wanted, that you had even made the peas for him incase he didn't like the other veg. He could only follow the orders given to him, taking his time to look at every dish. It wasn't all pretty. He was pretty sure you fucked up the Yorkshires, and some brussels seemed crispier than the others, but sitting down and tasting it all? It was good. Better than he deserved. But he didn't argue, he sat and ate his fill, ate more than that actually, while you told him about everything he had missed.

He insisted on cleaning up afterwards, saying that if you made everything he could at least put away the left overs. He should have been suspicious at how willing you were to let him because by the time he was done you were standing there wearing the tackiest red and white Christmas sweater that could have ever been made. And you were holding an identical one in what appeared to be his size.

"No."

"Come on."

"No."

"But it's Christmas."

"Actually it's January."

"We gotta match for the Christmas photo!"

"We are not having a Christmas photo."

"But I found little sweaters for the kids! We were all going to match!"

Simon looked past you to the couch and could indeed see your three boys on the couch in what looked like little red and white Christmas shrugs. You were completely serious about this. There was no way he was going to wear an ugly Christmas sweater for some ridiculous Christmas photo. Damnit, Simon had his pride and his dignity!

And yet pride and dignity stood no chance to your pleading face because Simon found himself sitting on the couch, wearing the tacky ugly Christmas sweater, and trying to wrangle two furry potatoes who had realized that they did in fact have sentience. At least Tombo was being a good boy. Couldn't say the same for Jiji and Baker. The first was trying to jump to freedom to continue to presumably sample the coffee table, while the later was trying to burrow under the hem of his sweater to presumably get into it. And you? You were giggling as you were setting up the tripod and your phone to get the damn photo.

After the third time of turning Baker around while keeping Jiji contained, it seemed you finally got it right because you were rushing from the coffee table to the couch as the timer counted down.

You hadn't selected the right timer because honestly the photo was a mess. You had your head thrown back in a laugh, leaning into Simon from the force of you jumping onto the couch. Simon wasn't looking at the camera, but instead was focused solely on you. Jiji was a blur that was landing in your lap. Baker was showing his whole ass because he apparently was determined to get into the damn sweater. Tombo was the only one who seemed to actually be looking at the camera like a good boy.

It had to be one of the most chaotic Christmas photos Simon had ever seen.

He chose a simple black frame for the copy of it that sat on his desk.

Edit;

IT'S DONE! Felt like it took every ounce of try and two days to get this decent. Everyone say thank you to @nightunite because talking about this with her gave birth to the Christmas photo. If you have any ideas or asks feel free to let me know!

I hope everyone has a safe and good holiday season regardless of what you celebrate or don't.

Also this is the boy's sweaters

[kravchikfreak]

I'm sorry if this ask is coming out of nowhere, but I have been looking for posts that talk about how S2 has declined in quality and there have been virtually NONE. Even tags like 'arcane critical' or 'anti arcane' don't show up even though I know there are posts that are tagged with them. I'm losing my mind. Has nobody else noticed this downgrade? The ideas could have been good, but they were not executed well and the whole thing reads like they wrote it really quickly without any real editing and then rushed to get it out. It feels hollow, like we're seeing a botched or unfinished version of what it was supposed to be. What kind of random ass shit is it that an enforcer comes up to Vi and says, "cait said good things about you," and Vi is just like wow you're right, I'm sold! Even though she already knows Cait has a high opinion of her and that wasn't the issue in the first place! Also who was that random homeless man? Why am I supposed to care about these people? Fans get defensive about the pacing and argue that s1 did a lot in a minimal amount of time too, but I don't think they realize that pacing has to do with making something feel organic. Vi's heel turn into becoming an enforcer was not organic. Viktor's two second goodbye was not organic. Both of these things could have made sense if they'd given these moments even just a little more effort or care. There were so many unnecessary scenes that could have been cut out to give more time to things that desperately needed it (like caitlyn's sad wordless montage about her mom. Why did it drag out so long? Her grief is apparent in every other scene. We did not need an entire abstract slideshow of her making various sad expressions.) There's also the animation. The animation is leagues above a regularly animated show, but if you look closely it is actually not as good as s1. There is less detail, the lighting of the background doesn't always match the characters, and there are moments where the lips don't always sync with their voices. These are minor things that I wouldn't usually care about, but for a multi-million dollar show like Arcane? Riot games recently laid off a whole slew of its creative team, too, and I wonder if they've been making similar cuts before that. It would certainly explain the drop in quality. I wouldn't put it past corporate greed to nerf one of the most groundbreaking animated shows in modern media if they thought they could profit more by cutting corners.

I'm sorry to ramble in your inbox as a random stranger, but it boggles my mind that there are so few people mentioning s2's flaws (not including rage bait, which is annoying because it only delegitamizes real criticisms and discussions.) I feel like I'm screaming in the void like is nobody else seeing this shit??

well hello there! first of all, "arcane critical" is what i was looking for when i was writing that post. gonna put it in tags now before i forget

secondly, i love asks! so no need to apologize. thirdly it's a bummer you went under anonym, i don't believe you get notifs for your anonymous asks, so unless you actually hang out on my blog regularly there's a chance you won't see me appreciating your thoughts and agreeing with you (expect for the animation part, cause for me it was great, i have no questions on that regard. but for each their own. i'm a big fun of the dragon prince first season's animation and still sad they get rid of their 13fps style, so...)

anyway, i got bored at the beginning of my rumbling that time and didn't get into some deep analysis but yes, the first season also had events to go fast and forward, but at the same time they made sense. it wasn't rush or dragged, every scene had a meaning and weight

YES to the burial scene. like i get it, it was drawn pretty and it was sad and grey for cait but my god how many hours can we watch vi going away from 317 different angles? i was actually shocked to see her at cait's, cause after 10 minutes of her hiding in the crowd and leaving before cait saw her i was legit sure the show tried to tell us they broke up for now and won't see each other for a while

and it all feels so odd, as if on the one hand writers had too little allowed episodes to work with their ideas, like they came up with all these important story points but had no more screen time to add actual story development between the points, cause the season is like 10 episodes too short to fit a full coherent story. but on the other hand they have too much unused screen time, like they wrote only 5 episodes but they had to make 9 so now we will just fill the equivalent of 4 episodes of free time with mute repetitive long scenes

who the fuck is that mute lizard cop? is he actually mute? or there were no budget on one more voice actor? what's his problem? why he always looks like he's mad at everyone? should i even care he's always displeased? does he even matter? if no, why he has so much screen time and close-up shots? if yes, why he has no meaning or story or character or name? i swear to god, in the first season that one future-junkie dude had more of a meaning and weight in his two minutes scene than these lizard cop and the new jinx's sister during two episodes

and it all would've been fine, really, if it was the first season, or one of these already bad shows that you don't really expect much of. but arcane was a masterpiece, and also we've been waiting for it for three years. so it's the feeling that we know how GOOD it can be, and the feeling that it just chose not to

w....wait... what if they also tried to do great? and failed to do good in the process

or maybe, as you said, just some internal kitchen shit. i never actually follow media creation stuff and staff so maybe that's just it. still not make it all better for me as a viewer who was too excited to learn at 1 am that the act dropped and stayed up until 7am to make sure to watch it before getting to sleep

HEY THANK YOU for giving me opportunity to rumble about it again

[iheartyouyou]

SWEETHEART | Jeremiah Fisher

Summary: After your parents file for a divorce, you’re forced to move in with your mom’s friend until the divorce is finalized. You wished you could stay with your dad and your friends, but when you meet Jeremiah Fisher, that changes. And now you’re wanting to stay in the Cousins. Too bad things don’t last forever.

Word Count:

Part: 8

previous part series masterlist

Authors Note: I don’t know why but I can’t tag some people even though I’m spelling their users right. I’m sorry for that, I have no idea how to fix it. Anyway, thank you for all the love and support from the other parts! <3 I also apologize for grammar or spelling mistakes, I tried to proofread but I’m not sure if I got everything.

You chug the rest of your beer, rolling your eyes at the obnoxious scene in front of you.

“Tell me more! Tell me more…” Jeremiah’s and Cam’s voice fades the more you walk away, turning the corner to find the nearest bathroom.

Noticing the long line that probably hasn’t moved in 10 minutes you make your way upstairs.

After your little pity party earlier, Conrad arrived. It was strange for him to be here since he’s been all “moody and quiet” as Belly would put it, but it made sense since Nicole was here.

“Hey, you see Jere anywhere?” He asks you, looking at you for split second before looking around the yard.

You cross your arms over your chest, “Probably in one of the rooms hooking up with someone.”

Conrad looks at you, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “That’s Jere. If you see him, can you tell him I’m staying the night here?”

You purse your lips, really wanting to be petty and say something along the lines of “oh he’s probably going to be staying the night at his one night stands place as well” but you decide against it.

“Sure.”

Conrad thanks you, entering the house.

Staring at the liquid inside of your red cup, you realize you shouldn’t be outside because you were avoiding Jeremiah and Taylor. You should go in there, make new friends and have fun.

You bounced your leg up and down, anxiously.

Screw it. You probably look like some weird loner out here. Even Conrad’s inside and he’s supposed to be the anti-social one.

And after many drinks and socializing with many people, you somehow ended up in the living room where karaoke was going on. Leaving almost immediately after Jeremiah and Cam started singing their hearts out.

You made no effort in trying to tell Jeremiah what Conrad said. You avoided him all night, the moment he walked in the same room, you walked out.

Placing your cup somewhere, which most likely will never be found, you make a beeline straight to the stairs.

You may have had a little too much to drink that night as it took all your strength to not eat shit on the stairs. Finally making it up there, you try every door only to be met by some random couple either in the midst of making out or ripping each others clothes off.

“Sorry.” You say loud enough for the third couple you walked in on to hear. You close the door, your eyes drifting to the last door at the end of the hallway.

Oh please be a couple free zone.

If not, you can just wait in line. Or find a bush outside.

You hold your breath as you peek your head in, grinning as there was no couple on the bed. Just a flower crown.

You walked in, slamming the door behind you and flinching hard when you heard the two gasps coming from beside you.

“Ew, what the hell you guys! You couldn’t have done that in the car?” You complain, throwing your flower crown next to Taylor’s that was on the bed.

Steven and Taylor were frozen in horror, staring at you with wide eyes.

You scrunch your face up in disgust, walking by them to get to the bathroom. “Wha—“

“Oh my god!” Belly shrieks, pointing at the two in disbelief.

Before Belly could even confront the two, Steven dashed out of there.

“Steven—“ Taylor starts, trying to grab his arm before he could leave but he already did.

“You’re hooking up with my brother?”

“I swear, It just happened!” Taylor excuses, shrugging as she look between you and Belly.

Belly makes a face, “Wha- What you got bored? He’s dating someone! You know, someone he actually likes.”

Taylor scoffs, pointing to herself. “You’re saying he couldn’t like someone like me?”

“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying—“

“Ohhh, shittt! Steven has a girlfriend!” You say out loud, finally putting two together.

Belly spins to look at you, her eyes narrowed. “What? Did you know? Jesus— how long have you guys been hooking up?”

“I just got here! Like a second before you, maybe half a second before you…” You say, starting to ramble before Belly cuts you off.

“This could get so messy, Steven, he’s taking her to the deb ball and all those girls are her friends!”

Taylor rolls her eyes, “Oh my god! I’m so sick of hearing about this fucking deb ball. I don’t even know who you are anymore.” Taylor looks her up and down, using her hands to elaborate.

“Why? Because I’m not just going along with everything you wanna do? Is that why you threw yourself at my brother? So, that… you can get back at me?”

“Y’know, you act so innocent Belly. Like you’re the victim.” Taylor hisses.

“Victim?” Belly repeats.

“I think you’re the self absorbed one, Belly. How do you not know I’ve had a crush on Steven for years. If you weren’t so obsessed with Conrad—“

“What is wrong with you? People are going to hear!”

“Who cares! There’s more than one story happening here but you seem to only care about the one where you’re the main character.”

There’s a pause before Belly excuses herself, rushing out of the room.

You stand there awkwardly, watching Taylor pace the room as she buries her face into her hands.

“Starting fights with everybody tonight, huh?” You sarcastically say, stopping when Taylor looks up to glare at you.

“Mind your own fucking business.” She snaps, snatching her flower crown off the bed before storming off.

You shrug to yourself, rushing to the bathroom.

-

“Okay but think about this… what if we are all dead but we just don’t know it? Like when we die, will we know when we are dead? Will it just be a void or what?” Your new friend slurs, explaining with his hands to prove a point.

You nod quickly, “That makes so much sense! I wonder if I’m dead.”

“I wonder if I am too.”

There was a pause before the two of you broke into fits of laughter, snorting and not giving a damn since pretty much everybody in this household was drunk.

“I wonder if vodka and apple juice taste good.” You ramble, putting your finger to your chin as if you were thinking.

Whatever his name is scoffs dramatically, shaking his head way too fast. He stops, looking like he was going to puke before going back to normal. “Y’know what’s good? The cherry mountain dew and vodka. That shit is chefs kiss. You ever see Gordon Ramsey?”

“Gordon Ramsey? Oh. my. gosh. Like JonBenét Ramsey?”

“No, that’s different. I’m talking about the old guy.”

You think for a moment, taking a sip of whatever you had in your cup before responding. “Oh the british guy.”

“I think he is! You know how to talk in a british accent?” He speaks in a accent, raising his eyebrows up and down.

You had no idea what his name was. But you bumped into him on accident and the two of you just started talking. Who would’ve known you guys would have a lot in common?

“Yes, hello sir.” You speak in a terrible accent that wasn’t even british, frowning as the guy broke into a laugh.

You flinch at the sudden weight around your shoulders, turning to look at the one and only, Jeremiah Fisher.

“Heyy look, it’s playboy!” You chirp, shrugging his arm off you.

Jeremiah ignores your comment, doing some dumb handshake with your new friend who now wasn’t your new friend because apparently he knew Jeremiah.

“Oh great.” You mumble, drinking the rest of your drink.

They make some small chat while you awkwardly stand there, swaying on your feet as you thought of ways to get out of there.

I’m gonna go use the bathroom!

I’m gonna go find a drink!

I’m out of here!

Adios!

“Oh right, I came over here to take this little fire cracker home.” Jeremiah announces, pinching one of your cheeks teasingly. You smack his hand away, glaring at him.

“Okay, I guess I’ll see you around then?” The guy asks, hopeful.

You smile, nodding. “Yeah.”

He scratches the back of his neck with his free hand, hesitating, “You, uh, you think I could get your number or something?”

Your eyes widen, your cheeks burning. Oh god, did he just ask you for your number? You heard that right? Right?

“Ye—“ You start, already searching your pockets for your phone before you get cut off.

“It’s actually been a crazy day, think we’re just gonna call it a night. Let’s go, Y/N.” Jeremiah states, staring at you expectantly.

You glare at him, sending an apologetic look to your new friend. “Whatever. See you around.” You managed to say before Jeremiah led you through the house and to his car.

Jeremiah opens the door to the backseat, impatiently waiting for you to get in.

You don’t. You just stand there.

“You couldn’t have waited till after I gave him my number? You’re such a cockblock.” You complain, looking back at the house.

Jeremiah rolls his eyes. “He’s a player anyways! You wouldn’t have been the only girl on his phone.”

You scoff, sarcastically smiling at him. “Says you!”

He groans, letting go of the door to rub the bridge of his nose. “Just get in the car, Y/N. I’m tired.”

“I’m tired.” You mock, begrudgingly getting into the car. You reach out to close the car door before Jeremiah could.

You look through the window and watch as he stood there for a moment, seemingly contemplating on something before walking back to the house.

You waited until you couldn’t see him anymore to kick the seat in front of you out of anger, which was barely a kick as your leg felt way too heavy to even move. Same thing with the rest of your body.

Stupid Jeremiah.

Always ruining everything. Ruined Belly’s dinner for you, ruined the party for you, what else is he going to ruin?

It’s funny how fast he changed from the moment you met him to now. When you first met him, it was like, it was too good to be true. He was practically a golden retriever just in human form. Everything about him was perfect, everything. His hair, his eyes, his lips, oh dammit, why didn’t you kiss those lips—

You stop, holding your breath in realization.

Did you have a crush on him?

Pfft, why would you, have a crush on Jeremiah Fisher?

But I mean, who wouldn’t?

No. Stop it.

The car door opens, making you jump.

Jeremiah tosses a napkin at you, “There. You happy?” He closes the door before you could even react.

You pick up the napkin, flipping it over to see the number written in pen ink. You feel guilty.

Both the driver and passenger doors open, causing your eyebrows to furrow. Isn’t Conrad staying the night? Didn’t Taylor leave with Cam and Belly?

“Taylor, you better not crash my car.” Jeremiah complains from the passenger seat.

God dammit.

“Relax, Jeremy. I’m actually a excellent driver. Plus, I’m not the one who chugged a beer in under a minute for what? 5 dollars?” Taylor giggles, starting the car. She moves her seat forward along with fixing the rearview mirror.

“Hey— it’s money. You would’ve done the same!” He says defensively.

You don’t bother with putting your seat belt on, too exhausted. Leaning your head against the door, you close your heavy eyes. Their argument fades into the background, your head pounding.

-

“THAT’S TOO CLOSE!” You jolt awake, scanning your surroundings before realizing you were still in the car. Jeremiah and Taylor still in the front seats, arguing.

You rub the side of your face that was against the car door, looking out the window to see that you guys were outside of the familiar beach house.

“Gosh, you’re so dramatic!” You hear Taylor say, putting the car in reverse before slamming on the breaks. The breaks sends you forward, not enough to hurt you but enough to fully wake you up.

“Excellent driver” my ass.

Jeremiah sarcastically groans, “I’m never letting you drive again.”

“Good! Your car smells anyway.” Was the last thing you heard before the two of them exited the vehicle, their argument being muffled.

You looked around the backseat, searching for your phone along with the napkin. You spot them on the floor, snatching the both of them and shoving the napkin in your pocket.

You squint your eyes as the light from your phone nearly blinded you, checking the time and missed messages from earlier.

Belly

Left early 11:25

Jeremiah said he would give you a ride 11:25

Perfect for some alone time if you know what I mean 😏 11:26

Oh yeah how should I ask Cam to the deb? Do you think he would want to go with me? 11:28

Smiling, you shake your head. You type out a quick response but before you could send it the car door opens, revealing Jeremiah.

He holds the door open, rubbing his eyes before motioning for you to come out. He holds out his hand. You take it, shoving your phone into your pocket.

Silently, he wraps his arm around your waist before closing the door. He helps you into the house, then up the stairs and to your bed room.

He finally let’s go, sitting you down on the bed.

Crouching down to your level, he scans your face. “Are you wearing makeup?”

You realize how close he is, your breath hitching. You looked into his eyes, those eyes, getting lost for a moment.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nod.

“Where’s your makeup remover?”

You point to the vanity. He gets up, unzipping your makeup bag before he stops. He holds up wipes, “This?”

“Yeah.” You muster out. Your heartbeat quickens as he comes back, stopping to crouch in front of you.

You reach your hand out to grab the wipes but he stops you, grabbing your chin with his other hand and softly pressing the wipe to your face to get rid of the makeup.

Your cheeks heat up at the gesture, feeling the cold wipe on your face as you dropped your hand. He takes his time, making sure to get everywhere.

He tosses the wipes in the trash can, going back to his crouching position to take off your shoes. You don’t stop him, your whole body felt like it was burning. You’ve never felt like this.

It felt like you were going to explode. Or puke. You didn’t know if it was because there were too many butterflies in your stomach and they needed a way out or just the alcohol you had tonight.

“Your hands looks better.” He mumbles, grabbing your hand to examine it. He flips it over a few times before letting it.

You stare at your hand the bruises looking more of a yellow-greenish color, “It’s pretty sore though.”

“I’m surprised it didn’t break.”

“What, after you guys ditched me?”

He’s quiet, frowning. “I came back for you.”

“Pfft, because you knew your mom would kill you if you didn’t.” You say, dropping your hand into your lap.

“I came back for you, not because of my mom.” He affirms, making eye contact with you so you could know he was telling the truth. You break it, your cheeks feeling hot.

There was silence for a moment but he breaks it, suggesting that you should lay down. You agree laying down as he shimmies the comforter out from underneath you. He tucks you in and fixes your pillows, making sure you were comfortable before he wishes you goodnight, leaving.

“Jere?”

He stops, turning back around to look down at you in concern.

“You okay? You need anything?”

You shake your head, staring at him. “No… I just…”

You felt so weird. So tingly. You were exploding with so many different emotions. You’ve had crushes before, silly crushes… but this was different.

You wanted to tell him. But, was it too late? What if Taylor was right? Would he really just hook up with you to leave you the next day?

“Thanks.” You finally settle on saying, facing away from him. You bury your face into the covers, mentally cursing at yourself but also just wanting to sleep.

He doesn’t respond.

And before you know it, he’s gone.

Taglist: @mindflay3r @lexi-2004 @buckys2thicc @agoodmansaid @jeremiahfisherslover @yourfavoritefangirl @leslienjazzy @natsgaygf @justkayleighhere @puptails @simp4jackharlow @yobabygirlally @whenmypartysover @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @medusaslilsister @maexxc @siriuslysmoking @nowimyurdaisy @totallynotkaibiased @eevee0722 @theyallhaveluv4lyricb @wh0reforstefansalvatore @pariahsparadise @angelbabyyy99 @lillygwenstacy @buckysh0e @nctma15 @ashlenxx @yeosxxx @elcpsstuff @historygeekqueen @ilovemen2much @picturethosesmiles @kristen-walker28 @dassah2022 @inkedfeatherz

[lycankeyy]

Jesus Christ these doodles already feel so old . I was not lying I really am using this fixation to speedrun learning to draw humans LMAO. Anyway I made some of those silly "understand ship in 5 minutes" memes with my Favorite pairings in funkycule au not ALL of them just the ones that I brainrot hardest about. If I did one for all of them we'd be here all day I'd probably hit image limit it's called the funkycule for a reason

ANYWAY infodumping/details under the cut:

BF/GF/Pico:

I am a "BF and GF are Fucking Tall™️" truther because it's funny to me. With BF it's harder to tell because his posture is absolutely atrocious but GF is just So Fucking Tall

I'm going to be honest with the gender headcanon for BF. I guess I default to him being transmasc but I can see him as. Like. Anything. In fact I think he's just every gender. But I'm a coward so he's transmasc for the purposes of the chart. GF is a girl but identifying her as "cis" or "trans" doesn't mean much when demon genders don't really work like that. It's complicated. Pico is just a guy

Pico likes being the big spoon because he likes knowing that his partners are safe. However GF likes being the big spoon More. The result is Pico Sandwich. He will never admit it but Pico feels the safest he ever has in his entire life when he is being Pico Sandwiched

BF is very much a verbal affection type of guy. Yes he is nonverbal. His words of affection are various dubstep noises. His partners appreciate it so much

BF grew up kinda spoiled and never really learned how to cook. However after noticing that Pico is like extremely bad at feeding himself (canon six pack means nothing to me. That boy is skin and bones I won't be told otherwise /silly) he for the first time managed to convince himself to try it and he got Really into it he's actually good at it. He still loses his mind when GF makes him pb&j sammiches for dinner though it's his favorite thing in the world

Pico is Insanely overprotective mostly because he's extremely hypervigilant and sees potential danger in everything. BF is the exact opposite and even in situations where he's in immediate danger he'll be ironically more worried about Pico getting too worried about it. GF is also pretty ditzy about this due to her confidence that her boys can handle Anything but if either of them ever got hurt she would explode everyone in a 50 mile radius with her mind so like that counts for something

Random headcanon: the group's favorite date night activity is looking up an extremely bad movie and then commentating over it like old-school rage youtubers the whole time in an effort to see who can get the others to laugh the hardest. BF wins often because the flatness of the TTS voice he uses adds something to the humor of it

Pico/Darnell:

I kinda bounced around with what label to use for Darnell for a while. I definitely see him as arospec, with the stipulation that he does feel romantic attraction just like very not traditionally and after a Long Time. After going between quoiromantic and demiromantic for a bit I landed on grey bc it's open-ended enough to encompass it. The point is it took Darnell like 3 full years to realize that his feelings were less platonic than he thought and even then theyre still like. Only half-romantic lmao

Unfortunately as he cannot provide the Pico Sandwich Darnell is getting little spoon'd by a guy nearly a foot shorter than him. F

Pico and Darnell are pretty verbally coarse with each other in a way only people who've been through the amount of shit they have been together can be w/o jeopardizing their relationship. That being said they often express affection and insane amounts of trust through actions very frequently, sometimes even without either of them realizing. Them immediately making up after weekend 1 was one of those times lol

I put Pico on the "squashes the bug" end of both charts but in reality I think he just takes them outside unless it's like a gnat or something. Darnell isn't scared of bugs he just wonders what would happen if he set one on fire. Pico refuses to let him set them on fire

Even though Pico 2 is in a weird limbo state in funkycule just like it is irl, there's still some point in the timeline where Pico expressed protectiveness over Darnell, to the point where, years later, when Darnell heard Pico took down a whole army for BF and GF, he got jealous, because that was supposed to be their thing >:(. This was quickly followed by his Oh moment

Random headcanon: Pico and Darnell had been acquaintances for the whole time they were in school together, but they became friends when Pico (and Nene by proxy) were the only kids to continue hanging out with him after The Class Presentation Gone Wrong (Darnell Plays with Fire). To return the favor, Darnell stuck by Pico even after the events of PS fundamentally changed him as a person. Though their relationship can be messy, they've been virtually inseperable since.

Nene/Cassandra:

The levels of toxicity of this are mostly dependant on When in the timeline by the time these two are like 21 they've normalized a bit dw lmao

Okay so like. I've made so much Lore. For Pico's School. For no reason. Anyway penilians have nothing against child soldiers so Cas was shipped off to infiltrate Earth at the penilian equivalent of 13. Also while on a surface level she's transfem in more depth it's like "all penilians are One Sex and have One Gender so technically she is xenogender, using neopronouns, and if you want to be extra silly with it, by the time she's 19 she's functionally alienkin but for humans as a coping mechanism for being banished to earth (dw abt it)"

[Projects my trauma and its side effects onto Nene] who said that

I didn't think much on the borrowing clothes thing until I realized that I draw Nene and Cassandra wearing the same style of turtlenecks I was like. Do you know what would be really funny

I don't have many intimate cute headcanons for these two Yet because I'm so early on in developing my shit and these two are Not cute at first. However I do like to imagine that Nene calls Cas all kinds of over-the-top cutesy or stupid nicknames just to get a reaction out of her. She called her a "vixen" as a furry joke + something between a compliment and insult once and she almost died

Nene is literally the only one in this entire cast who's never gotten her license suspended also she's somewhat good at car maintence which Cas find inexplicably hot

Giggles and kicks my feet at putting both Pico and Cassandra at the far end of the overprotectiveness spectrum. Anyway

Random headcanon: in the short period of time before Cas started ghosting Nene and FNF happening, they were in contact for One Christmas when they were like 15. Nene got Cas a cute little switchblade with hearts carved into the handle. Cas keeps it in a box by her bed and refuses to let anyone touch it or to let it ever get dirty.

If you have read this far I love you. Here is your reward should you choose to accept it:

[tsukimefuku]

The Event (Part 1)

This is an older version of this. The current one can be found linked on the masterlist.

You find yourself entangled with Nanami in his apartment, and worry where this might be going.

Tags: +18 (!!!), WITH PLOT (there is always a plot), Jujutsu Kaisen, SMUT, f!reader, Nanami x reader, alcohol consumption,  they're clearly in love, fingering, bj, penetration, a little angst, some fluff, hurt + comfort.

WC: 5.2K

Theme song (?): Want me too - Mons Vi (on Youtube)

Hope you guys enjoy my filth, yet again. This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU", a sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a Nanami x f!reader x Higuruma fanfic I'll eventually write (eventually). This is preceded specially by "Would you let me die?", here, and "Where does your mind drift", here. It comes before “The man who played with fire”. To see the ever-growing list of one-shots, please visit my masterlist :)  

Disclaimer: these one-shots are NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.

“I've been fooled twice and again

Flowers dying that I send

But I want you

I want you

I want you to want me, too”

— Want me too, Mons Vi

You were pressed against the wall of his apartment, and Nanami's insistent hands on your waist were doing the pressing, while you fidgeted around his shoulders to remove his suit jacket. You both had locked lips and tongues to each other, and you couldn't remember another time in your life you had been this breathless while kissing someone. That boulder of a man and the heat of his body sent all your senses spiraling as you finished taking his suit jacket off and tugged his shirt to pull him even closer — something that was clearly impossible, given you were both already glued to one another.

Then, you tried to remember how the fuck the both of you wound up in this situation.

***

"Nanami..." you hiccuped, "you're d-drunk!" Lowering your beer mug on the bar counter, you pointed at him, accusingly. "C-completely hammered."

"Is..." Nanami took a moment to realize he had his eyes closed for a few seconds. Were it seconds? He opened them, as if that would help him with the drunken vertigo. It just made the situation worse. "... That so?"

"You're talking so damn slow, and you had your eyes closed for like a whole minute. Dude, you're so-" you hiccuped again, taking another gulp of beer, completely forgetting what you were about to say.

Somewhat amused at how you simply never finished the sentence, he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, trying to ground himself. Nanami didn't recall the last time he got this completely boozed up. Both of you were pretty strong when it came to alcohol, but tonight, you two maybe went a little too overboard. "You don't seem to be fending off so well..." He stretched his last word, feeling a little dizzy, "... Either."

"Is this a competition, Nanami? ... I'll win!" You declared, bottoming out your beer mug, making a pretty huge effort to put it back on the counter without breaking the glass. "... Do I want to win this-" 

The barman looked at you two. "We're closing. Can I get you guys some water?"

Oh, that was why you were both so banged up. You had been talking and drinking nonstop for hours without eating anything.

"Holy shit, Nanami, we've been drinking for five hours?" You asked him, stunned. He answered nothing, having his eyes shut again, head dangling back, while he leaned on the chair. How does he keep sleeping while seated? This is so bizarre. You grabbed his arm and shook it lightly, and Nanami was pulled awake.

"We need to pay for the drinks, sir." He said to the barman, much to the barman's worry. 

"I'll... Get your check, and some water for the both of you, okay?"

You both nodded, like puzzled kids.

After paying (with a lot of effort), you and Nanami walked outside, just to realize basically every joint was closing, and that it was raining. No, raining wasn't the most adequate word for it. It was absolutely pouring.

"Shit, I'm never getting home like this." You complained, as Nanami fidgeted with a small umbrella he somehow had on him. Considering he easily walked around with his blunt blade underneath his suit jacket, carrying this must've been quite easy. 

"How did you know?" You asked, pointing at the umbrella.

"I always check the forecast before leaving my apartment." He answered, still fumbling with the thing. Of course he does. You took the umbrella from Nanami's hands and opened it, giving it back to him.

"Hey, Nanami... Do you live nearby?"

He started to look around, pondering for a moment, until he could locate exactly where the both of you were. "I... do, actually." He paused, realizing he had his posture crooked, fixing it. "It's a 20-minute walk from here."

You thought for a moment. "Can I-" hiccup, "come over and wait for the rain-" hiccup, "to pass?"

"Yes..." He blinked slowly, still processing the words on his mind. "Of course."

As he held the umbrella on his right side, you intertwined your arm to his, pushing yourself closer, so the two would fit under the tiny thing. However, given the fact that the both of you were considerably tall, and that he was specially broad, that didn't work so well, leaving each with some shoulder exposed to the unforgiving weather.

Nanami sighed slowly. "We will get completely drenched."

You scoffed. "No, we won't, and if we do, it will help us sober the hell up. Come on."

***

Feeling less under the influence after a walk in the rain and cold, Nanami took his keys and opened the door, letting you in. He noted you were both somewhat damp while taking your shoes off, but not completely soaked in water as he'd expected. He flipped the lights on, and then, you could see the inside of his apartment — something you, not so proudly, used to wonder about from time to time.

It had mostly light colors with warm tones to the furniture. He had two bookcases completely filled with books that seemed to be organized in a pretty specific and convoluted way. They neatly met together on each shelf. He had an armchair, and above it was a greenish type of light fixture for reading. The windows were incredible, and provided a great view of Tokyo. The kitchen was on the opposite side of the sofa, and it was an open-type of kitchen, where someone from the living room could see all of it. It was an impeccably clean and well-maintained place, and if this wasn't Nanami, you'd probably think it belonged to a serial killer, given how it was extremely tidy, to a clearly obsessive length. You felt you were dirtying the apartment just by looking at it.

"Um... Where can I sit?" You asked, hesitantly. He pointed to one of the chairs at the dining table, and you promptly sat there, trying not to move too much and spread water around the place.

You started to slide your hand through your hair, just to realize it was quite wet. He noticed, and went inside his room for a minute, coming back with a blue towel, giving it to you. Taking the towel from his hands, you shuffled it around your head, drying whatever you could. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Nanami replied, sitting down on the edge of his sofa and removing his tie calmly. He folded it a couple of times before putting the tie over the sofa's arm.

"So, how are you feeling? You look more sober." You said. He did, actually. You noticed his usually neat, perfectly aligned hair had some locks over his forehead, probably due to the rain. His blue shirt was slightly damp, and his pants, just under his knees, had definitely seen better days.

"I feel more alert, yes. And the vertigo has stopped, thankfully. Although I'm still quite inebriated." Nanami replied, as he leaned back on the cushions crossing his legs, and you noticed the slightest hint of imbalance. "What is your status?"

"I'm sobering up a little. But I'm still pretty fucked, though." You answered, chuckling while you rested the towel over your lap. "I'll definitely regret this tomorrow."

He huffed, amused. "I will too, probably."

You were both silent for a moment, while the pouring rain filled the ambiance. It had eased out, but was still pretty heavy.

"Nanami..." You began.

"Yes?" He braced himself. He knew some complicated question or contemplation was just about to be thrown at him. Nanami had noticed for a while now that you liked to think out loud and chat about your ruminations.

"Remember when I asked you to let me die if it would save somebody else, and you refused?" You questioned, starting to probe him.

Strangely, it didn't annoy him at all, especially after the conversation you both shared when you were stranded with Ijichi by the mountains. He thought at the time you made that request, he'd like to go back to it, eventually. "Yes, I do recall that." Nanami answered.

"Why did you- I mean, we're supposed to-" Talking about this was hard, and being still somewhat drunk made the task nearly impossible. Gladly, he already knew what you wanted to go on about.

"I don't want you to die. You see, even with your antics," he began, "you have become an  important person in my life. As jujutsu sorcerers, that unfortunately is hard to come by and stay. You..." He paused for a second. "You stayed, and I'd like to keep it that way."

You were slightly surprised, given you expected from Nanami some sort of less straight-forward declaration about the importance and relevance of people in his life. It must've been the alcohol, you thought.

"Why did you request that from me, in particular?" He inquired.

"Because you know me better than anyone currently in my life," you blurted out, "and I knew you'd not take it like... I don't know. I just knew you'd understand where I was coming from, especially having been by my side when-" You choked up and couldn't finish the sentence. He knew, he remembered clearly what transpired ten years ago in your hometown, one of his most significant missions. You weren't aware of it, but even after the conversation you had years ago, he still blamed himself to some degree.

"You know me well, too. So how did you arrive at the conclusion that I would agree to such a request?" Nanami questioned, curious eyes glancing at you.

"You're such a dutiful and respectful person. A decent one, too. Especially regarding other people's wishes, when it's within your powers to honor them. So I thought you'd agree to it." You confessed, shrugging. 

He sighed. "I'm not a hero, I'm a jujutsu sorcerer. I came back because out of the two stupid things I could do, this was the one I was better suited for."

"You see, I think that's bullshit." You said, finally confronting him on this ready-to-go speech Nanami had most of the time. He was a bit surprised. You continued. "I know you care underneath that facade. Hell, I think I can actually say I know you, Mr. Bangs — yes, I remember them. We go way back, so don't try to preach to the choir. You're someone actually worried about saving people and doing good deeds in this dirty world of jujutsu."

The corner of his mouth stretched a little, and he seemed to be almost smiling. However, his expression was still blank enough to make his surge of warmth and fluttering unnoticeable. "If you knew that, then why did you believe I'd oblige to such a request?" He was still under the influence, and in normal circumstances, wouldn't be tap dancing dangerously around this boundary like he was right now.

You blushed and looked away as you began to answer him. "I just... Believed your 'preaching' for a second, I guess."

"I see." He answered, still looking at your face, thinking how lovely you looked when you blushe- No, stop it, he thought to himself. You noticed his eyes staring at you in a way that remembered the conversation you had while stranded some days prior.

“Is your mind drifting, Nanami?” You inquired, playfully. Looking at him to wait for an answer, your eyes locked onto his prominent jaw and chiseled face, and you wanted to rub your own face on his until you got cuts on your ski- Get a hold of yourself, woman, you mentally chastised yourself.

He didn’t fail to notice it, too. Rather than feeling embarrassed at being caught red-handed, daydreaming of you, he threw the ball right back at you. “Is yours?” 

You promptly looked away, yet again, heart skipping beats as you tried to keep yourself under control. Then, you noticed through the window that the rain had finally subsided.

Time to run before you went past the point of no return.

"Nanami, the rain is gone. I guess this is my cue." You said, hastily getting up. You were nervous, and having him probing you — not the other way around — was pushing all of your buttons in ways you were not prepared for. Furthermore, you were the type to make other people uncomfortable through joking and blunt sincerity, just so no one couldn't do it to you first. But with Nanami, after so much time, you had become vulnerable, something that scared the living shit out of you. You just knew Nanami was a decent and good man who'd never take advantage of this, and on top of that, you kind of owed the fact you were still alive to him.

He seemed a little disappointed, his expression less indecipherable than before. "I understand. Well..." He said as he got up. "Return safely."

You approached him to say goodbye, and your senses — as well as your common sense — dulled as you felt his perfume, now evaporating along with the water from his clothes. "Bye, then." You said, suddenly planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. 

Instead of retreating, as he normally would in a situation like this, Nanami closed his eyes and leaned his face to press your lips harder against his face, letting out a deep sigh of satisfaction that sent chills down his body. You inhaled him in, and before you knew, he was sliding down his own face, brushing his cheeks against your mouth intently, until his lips met yours. He let out a soft low groan as they made contact, and one of his hands made its way to your back, effectively pulling you into his warmth.

That was the moment you lost any willpower to get out of this unscathed, and you threw your arms around his head, which stole a light gasp from him. You used this opportunity to press your tongue inside his mouth, and his own tongue came to entangle with yours. Nanami grabbed you by your waist and pushed you against the wall, starting to pant lightly while the both of you were locked in a passionate kiss, ready to wash away the last ten years.

Oh, yeah. That's how this started.

He had his body pressed against yours, and you both did not dare to part the kiss or open your eyes, for you knew the moment you did, one or the other would pull the both of you back to the reality of how much of a bad idea this was. Not only were you and Nanami colleagues, but you effectively worked together on missions. On top of that, this wasn’t just a one-night stand or a random hook up, it was pretty well established you had feelings for each other, and some complicated unresolved issues. Things that having drunken sex usually tends to make even more chaotic. 

Suddenly, he rubbed his hips against yours just the right way, and you felt his throbbing erection pressed against you. You moaned loudly against his lips, open-mouthed and tongues grinding each other. Your moan made him press his mouth against yours to a closed kiss, and all the hairs on his arm and neck propped up with a shiver. Nanami went still, and the lack of mindless friction against his body brought you back to Earth for a split second.

“I’m leaving/Please leave” you both said at the same time, as he jumped back, sitting haphazardly over the sofa’s arm and tried — without much success — to cover his hardened length with his closed fist, looking away with a completely flushed and vermilion face. I should consider quitting alcohol, was the idea he entertained.

Panting frantically, you ran to the door, snatched your shoes from the entrance without even putting them on, and got out, letting it close behind you. You tried to catch your breath while hunched over, and evening out your breathing was being much harder than you thought, though you figured it could be from your heart racing and throbbing against your chest insistently. There was a ringing in your ears that you wanted to wait out until leaving the building, and so you stood there, right outside his apartment, for some minutes. However, while trying to pull yourself together, you noticed something.

You never heard the door locking.

I want him, I’ve wanted him for so long now, and he wants me too. What am I doing out here? I’m seeing this through to the end, you thought to yourself, with liquor-bought courage, resting your hand on the door knob. Pushing your body while you tried to silence every anxiety and impression that this was a bad idea, you entered the apartment again, to find Nanami sitting at the edge of his bed, beads of sweat on his forehead, as he incredulously and eagerly lifted his gaze to glance at you. You felt you must’ve looked desperate, and simmering under his slightly vacant stare, he seemed desperate too, clutching his fist on the mattress strongly enough to deform it a little.

“You… never locked your door” you remarked, removing your coat.

“I… did not.” He answered. “More specifically, I couldn’t find the strength to do so.” 

Nanami seemed to have reached the same conclusion you did when you were given time to think by yourself outside. 

Starting to walk towards him, you removed your socks, then started to unbutton your shirt, and he seemed hypnotized, following your stride with needy eyes. You let your shirt fall back, sliding over your arms until it hit the ground. Standing right in front of him, you put your hands together to unbutton your pants, and he held your hands in place, hesitantly.

You were resolute, but he seemed to still be swaying between what to (not) do.

“I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long. I… please…” you pleaded, barely brushing the side of your face against his, sending electricity all throughout his body. “I know you want me too.” You brushed the tip of your nose delicately over his chiseled cheekbone, to look him in the eyes.

Sighing deeply with his eyes closed, he finally opened them, and put his own nose right beside yours, making it possible for you to feel his breathing, lips nearly touching. “I do.”

You immediately kissed him, and it was different this time. The feeling wasn’t so urgent, but your lips locked deeply and intensely. He caressed the side of your hair with his fingertips, sliding his index finger around the edge of your ear, sending chills down your spine. Nanami then put his hands, one to each side of your hips, and guided you delicately to sit beside him on the bed. After that, he slid himself further back on the mattress, and you followed along.

As you both were in the middle of the bed, he rested his palm on your chest, pushing you softly to lie down, with his honeyed eyes still locked to yours. Every touch he made was so intent you felt your body shiver, like this was the first time you were ever touched by another person. To call Nanami an intense lover would be an understatement.

Lying down slowly, you gazed up at him, feeling your face searing hot as you did. This man was so goddamn handsome, and the way he looked at you nearly knocked the air out of your lungs.

His hands traveled between your breasts, down your abdomen, and reached the edge of your pants, unzipping you and pushing them as well as your underwear to your mid-thighs. Still looking at you, analyzing your each and every facial expression, Nanami started to slide one of his hands to where your already drenched underwear was previously. You felt somewhat embarrassed to be already that wet from some kissing and grinding, but oh, well. He apparently had that effect on you. 

As his fingers reached your dripping folds, his eyes widened a little, and his expression was kind of… amused? “Oh.”

Your face blushed even harder. “I… You… We were and-“

“You want me that intensely?” Nanami said, touching his forehead to yours, nose side by side.

“I… do. Please.” You answered, a little defeated.

He rubbed his lips against yours, and sighed, seemingly fluttering. “Then have me. Have all of me.” He pressed his tongue against your mouth, and you let him in, at the same time his fingers started to rub against your core. You mewled into his mouth, rolling your eyes back, and propping your hands to hold the nape of his head. He was softly grinding himself to the side of your body, searching for any relief to this throbbing clothed erection. 

He rubbed his middle finger to your clit, and the others rolled your outer folds in, pinching them delicately. As you mewled and moaned into his mouth, he let out satisfied groans, trying to hold himself together as you fell apart to his touch. The sounds you made being under his will were just exquisite.

You started to grind your pussy against his hand, and attentively, he applied more pressure with his fingers over your nub, eliciting a loud and powerful moan from you, as you pushed full force your lips on his. His body trembled, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop doing this to you right now without going mad if you, by any chance, changed your mind about this whole endeavor.

Rocking your hips back and forth, you started to feel the heat pooling on your lower abdomen, tugging at his shirt urgently and desperately. He noticed it, and parted his lips from yours, keeping a small distance between your faces so he could watch you crumbling down in real time. You were completely debauched, flustered and messy. His heart throbbed in his chest, as he had never seen you look so beautiful as you did at this very moment. He could still smell the flowery scent from your hair, now mixed with your breath and sweat. It was heavenly.

Bubbling up and all throughout your body, you came onto his hands nearly yelling out of sheer pleasure, saying his name, and with your hands to the back of his neck, pressed your nails so deep into Nanami’s skin it almost drew blood. He huffed, delighted, as you quivered and convulsed underneath him. Nanami wanted to ask you to stay and not leave ever again.

Riding out your high, you pulled his face closer, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

Then, you moved your hand smoothly down his chest and abdomen until you reached the outline of his cock underneath his pants. You grabbed it firmly, and he let out a choked grunt from the back of his throat, launching his head back and pumping his girth involuntarily against your touch. You smiled.

“And you want me too, that badly?”

“I do.” He replied, pulling his hand up from your folds and tasting you from his fingers, while he looked straight at you. You saw his eyes half lidded as he tasted it. Sighing at the sight of that, you thought for a moment you came a little just from it. 

You pushed him back on the bed with your hands and slowly began to unbutton the rest of his signature blue shirt, removing it, and straddling yourself on top of his hips. Your pussy was pressed over his cock, and he put both of his hands firmly over your thighs, grinding up, grunting as he did. The motion, after you became so sensitive, had you seeing stars and sparkles in the back of your eyes. Letting out a mixture of a huff and a chuckle, you basked in the vision you had in front of you, and slid down your hands to open his pants. You did, and removed them until they fell on the floor. 

Suddenly, you gave a lick on his abs, and he shivered, letting out a faint moan. You made your way with your tongue slowly down his body, planting a few kisses until you got there. His cock was extremely hard, the tip was red and already leaking. Your mouth watered at that sight to behold.

Nanami suddenly put his hand on your cheek, and you looked at him. His face was flustered, his hair had already fallen completely out of its usual slick arrangement, and the needy look on this man’s face sent a wave of heat down your back. 

“I don’t want to alarm you, but I’m… Extremely wound up.” He confessed, a little embarrassed. “If by any chance this becomes too much, tell me to stop.” 

You smiled at him. “I won’t. Have all of me, too.”

His gaze deepened as your tongue made its way to his tip, glazing it with saliva. He immediately grabbed your hair and let out a strained moan, launching his head to the pillow underneath it. You swallowed his length, inch by inch, careful not to choke ahead of time. You noticed him squirming his hips underneath you, probably holding himself from bucking upwards full force.

Once you had taken him all in, you positioned yourself the most comfortable way and started to encouragingly press your hands on the sides of his hips, for him to pump his cock inside your mouth.

Still tightly — though not bruisingly — holding onto your hair, he asked, “are you sure?”

“Mm-Hmm”, was all you got out, with that massive cock inside your mouth. He started off slow, grinding the back of his cock to your tongue, gravely groans filling the room. As you seemed to be taking it well, his pace picked up, and his tip began hitting the back of your throat, deliciously choking you, as a few tears bubbled up in your eyes.

You were moaning to the taste and sound of Nanami, and your moaning seemed to snap something inside of him. Nanami began thrusting into your mouth intently, and after so much build up and grinding, suddenly, came while bucking his hips sloppily, painting the back of your throat with pure white. You began drinking him all in.

When you finished, you cleaned your face with the back of your hand, slowly making your way back to him. Before you did, though, Nanami held your waist and laid you down on the sheets, climbing on top of you and kissing you passionately, moving his hands to hold the sides of your head. He let his body weight rest over you, carefully, and you sank underneath that mountainous man, sliding your nails delicately down his back. He pressed himself in between your legs, and you gasped at the sensation. 

“Please…” you begged, now holding his face, looking straight into his eyes. “Please.”

He sighed, pressing a quick kiss on your lips, as he grabbed a condom from someplace you couldn’t quite make out. Nanami opened it with his teeth, and slipped it on quickly, hovering above you. He locked eyes with you again, resting his forehead against yours, and extended his hand behind your back, accidentally pressing the deep scar you had over your spine. You gasped in pain, and he retreated his hand immediately.

“I apologize, I… I…” his expression looked equally pained, with a distinct frown between his brows. “Please, forgive me.” This wasn’t an apology about current events, and it clenched your chest to see him like this. At this moment, you knew he still carried blame for what happened years ago.

“There is nothing to be forgiven, stop apologizing,” you said, holding his head against yours, eyes piercing through his. “You never failed me. Don’t apologize anymore. Please, don’t… don’t blame yourself.” 

His gaze softened, and he rested one of his hands on your cheek. The touch was wholeheartedly delicate, like he was holding a flower petal, and it sent your heart thumping against your chest. You could feel a surge of words stirring up your throat, and decided to let them out.

“I love you,” you said, gazing intently into his eyes, “I love you completely.”

Nanami looked at you pleadingly, and immediately pressed his lips to yours, brushing away to all the pain the both of you had endured together and apart. Only then, did he separate his lips from yours to breathe out, “I love you too.”

At that moment, you were sure you had sunk in too deep, and there was no escaping it anymore. Not even if you were an expert at fleeing. 

He positioned himself and sunk in slowly, wanting to feel as every inch made its way into you. You both shared an intense and strained moan in unison, as he bottomed out, tearing you apart slowly. There was no build up whatsoever to the coil that instantly formed in your lower abdomen, ready to snap. You stretched and clenched around him, walls fluttering, and Nanami groaned against your lips, halting any movement from his hips. 

“If I move too quickly, I’ll…” he said, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate, while pressing his hands to the sides of your shoulders. You were caged in, right underneath him.

You huffed and laughed softly. “I… I know, m-me too. Let’s take it slowly…”

Nanami smiled with the corner of his lips, planting an open-mouthed kiss on your jaw and contouring your face with the tip of his nose, until your noses were beside one another. He gazed at you, glancing straight into your eyes, and you looked right back, as he started to slowly glide in and out of you, pulling entirely and bottoming completely with each movement he made. Both of you moaned and groaned into each other, as he pressed you under him from every angle possible. Your heart whirled content, and at that moment, you felt heartwarmingly held and protected by him. 

His pace started to pick up, and you were babbling incoherently against his mouth. He kissed you and pressed your head against the bed with his urgent, insistent lips, while the heat pooled in your belly began sparkling, ready to burst. 

“I-I’m… I…” you huffed, nearly out of breath.

He thrust into you sharply and picked up a quicker pace. With that, you let go, orgasm hitting you like an avalanche, while you trembled, twisted and turned under Nanami. He came right after, muffling an almost shout with his mouth against your puffy lips, and his hips were slowing right until the movements stopped.

Your mind was blank and your sight grew dark, as you brushed the hair over his forehead with your fingertips away, a dumb smile on your face. He caved, falling beside you, pulling you in for a hug as you two drifted away.

***

You woke up, and realized you were sleeping with your stomach down. You had no idea what time it was, but the throbbing headache was relentless enough for you to not care about it. Looking to your side on the bed, you realized Nanami was nowhere to be found.

“What…?” You asked yourself, getting up and almost falling down in the process. His phone, which was on the nightstand before, was also gone. As you walked towards the room’s door, you saw that his blunt blade was gone too, and there were some toasts and an omelet ready on the table, accompanied by an assortment of toppings. The other side of the table, however, was empty, and over your chair there was a note.

For some reason, you had a bad feeling about it.

What was that about regret the morning after?

[sturns4thisbitch]

“next door neighbor”

-matt sturniolo pt.2

warnings: nothing just a bit of fluff, strangers/friends to lovers, hockey!matt/sweetheart!matt smut soon!!

that night

i’ve been getting ready for an hour, sure matt knows what i look like without makeup and not dressed up, hell he showed up at my doorstep and saw me when i had just woken up. so i know there’s really no point in putting this much effort in to look good, just to eat dinner, but matt’s never seen me dressed up, since all i ever wear to school is sweats, and i wanna look good tonight.

an hour later

i’m putting on my outfit and my shoes now, i just put on my jewelry and now i’m heading out. i knock on his door and he opens it..and holy fuck his outfit?? he looks so fucking good i could actually..

“hello? y/n? are you listening?”

i snap out of my trance

“yeah yeah ofc i am”

“mhm? then what did i say”

“uhm..idk matt i was distracted”

“by what?” he asked teasingly

i looked down, his voice had me thinking some things

“nothing, forget about it” i smiled as i walked past him, he grabbed my arm softly

“no, no tell me what distracted you sweetheart.” he said looking down at me

SWEETHEART?? DOES HE WANT ME TO FAINT??

“it’s really nothing, i promise” i smiled reassuring him

“okay, whatever you say, but come, sit down” he leaded me to the dining room table, which was covered in plates of delicious looking food.

“wow your mom can really cook” i giggle

“yeah she’s amazing”

i smile and look over at him

“your smile is really pretty, yk that?”

i blushed hard.

“really?” i smiled

“yeah, of course”

“thank you!” i replied giggly

his brothers came downstairs and his parents sat down next to us

the next day

i woke up to a knock on my door, i groaned, exhausted from the amazing night before, i ended up staying there a lot longer than planned and we played games until 2am, but eventually matt walked me home and i fell asleep. but now i’m being woken up, i yawned and stretched, quickly putting on a bra and shorts as i answered the door, half asleep.

“hm?” i asked as i opened the door

there was matt, again, AND I WAS IN A BRA.

“uh..” he mumbled

i looked down and realized my state and quickly slammed the door

“SORRY!” i ran upstairs and threw on a r shirt and sweats, brushing my hair, and running back downstairs, opening the door.

“needed a moment, huh?” he chuckled

“yeah..sorry i was half asleep”

“mhm i could tell..”

“so what are you here for?”

“i was wondering if you wanted to hangout today? i mean we don’t have school and i don’t have plans, but i totally understand if you do, you probably do i’m sorry-“

“no, no i don’t have plans! uhm yeah we can hangout!”

he smiled, his smile is so cute omg.

“yeah? so what do you wanna do?”

“if you want you can come inside, i actually need help with something”

i let him inside and i shut the door behind us, walking him upstairs into my room

“so basically, i need to go through my clothes and idk what to keep”

“you want me to help?”

“yeah of course, i love your style”

he smiled and blushed a little

“yeah of course, i’d love to help”

“okay i’m gonna try on random shit and you tell me keep or sell, okay?”

“sounds easy enough”

i tried on the first outfits and everything he loved

“yk you’re gonna have to pick sell to something?”

“yeah but everything just fits you so well”

i blushed, hard.

“i- not like that” he covered his face in embarrassment

“i’m so sorry, i wasn’t trying to be weird”

“no, i know” i smiled walking towards him

authors note

CLIFF HANGERRRR IM SORRYY I JUST HAD TOOO BUT YALL LMK HOW IT IS SO FAR IN THE COMMENTS PLEASEE💋💋

[geraldmariaivo]

Not sure if this is a thing already, but…what if Danny gets unofficially adopted by Batman, and he’s ok with that? 

It’d probably be post reveal-gone-wrong or something, but i could also see it just being Jack and Maddie taking the family on trip to Gotham for the summer. Tbh my favorite version of this is within the first full year of him being Phantom, so he’s still getting new powers and stuff every now and then, and hasn’t really gotten all this vigilante stuff down to a science yet. Either way, Danny is trying to stay under the bats’ radar, (and also avoid his friends’ jokes about being adopted by Bruce Wayne becoming reality) but, well..

Danny “what even is my luck” Fenton can’t seem to keep out of the weird shit that happens in Gotham, and doesn’t realize that slipping out of the rogue’s traps isn’t something normal enough to be unnoticed by the bats. Maybe it’s the aftermath of a Scarecrow fight, and Danny stayed intangible for as long as he could, probably occasionally dropping it every now and then because he’s not really thinking, and it takes effort to be intangible like that. Either way, Batman eventually comes upon him while distributing the antivenom or whatever for the fear gas, and comes across this meta child who’s kinda aware, but seems to keep density shifting and makes it impossible to give the cure to, in the way that someone who’s afraid of needles might squirm when they’re getting a shot. 

So he just sort of sits there and holds out his arm, and eventually the kid catches on. He grabs on and grips as hard as he can. Batman, slowly, broadcasting his movements, takes his other hand, and puts it to his own chest. He breathes in, holds, and breathes out. In, hold, out. It only takes the kid a minute or two of the kid copying his breathing to calm down enough to thank him, likely due to a boosted metabolism or some other mechanism for his body to deal with toxins. It took another second for the kid to visibly realize that Batman saw him go intangible, and quickly rush out “please don’t tell anyone Mr. Batman”s and “I know there’s a no-meta rule in Gotham, but I’m not staying here full-time.”

Batman just silently nods.

Much to both of their dismay, this keeps happening.  Poison Ivy attacks? Danny is there, getting people unstuck from vines or sap or whatever she used to trap them because he can’t not help when he’s right there.  Mad Hatter is mind-controlling people? Overshadow him into disabling it, or just fuck with the electronics invisibly.

Riddler is on the attack? Just wiggle in your ropes while his henchmen are setting things up, so as to make it look like you’re really skilled at escaping instead of becoming intangible. Might as well “untie” your fellow hostages, knock out a few henchmen while you’re at it.

These things keep happening, and Danny is actually feeling refreshed. He’s not doing most of the work here, the bats are. He’s just helping out on the side, is all. He’s not waking up at night to fight someone all the time, the bats already have nightshift covered to hell and back. And while constantly coming across Batman isn’t exactly ideal, the man hasn’t tried to drive him out of the city, which is probably as close to a “you can stay” as he’ll ever get, considering that the man hasn’t said so much as a word to him.

Danny’s also pretty sure that the man wouldn’t give him food every time they encounter each other if he wasn’t ok with him. And holy shit, isn’t that something? Edible food that isn’t fudge from an adult with no obligation to him.

Meanwhile, on Bruce’s side, this random meta kid just keeps on showing up at nearly every other rogue attack. Sure it’s been a slow week, but this is ridiculous. He also needs to restock on nutrient bars. They’re don’t taste the best, but between Red Robin forgetting to eat before he hits the rooftops, and the rampant child hunger in many of the poorer areas (he needs to look into his funds for school breakfast and lunch programs again, see if there’s some more wiggle room he can work with), he keeps several on him, just in case.

And if the speed the meta kid seemed to process Crane’s fear gas was any indication, he probably wasn’t eating enough for his boosted metabolism. So he kept a few more on him.

One time, he came in a bit too late, and caught the tail end of the kid bashing Condiment King in the face, -no powers, just a metal folding chair- while griping about how the man had ruined his lunch, and how now he had to eat at home and he was tired and didn’t want to fight his lunch today, because he’s had to do it for the last two days. And then (sloppily) kicking him in the ribs. Of course he had to come in to end the fight, but more than he was concerned about Condiment King, he was worried about the kid. Fighting took energy that the kid was having a hard time replacing as it was, and what’s worse is that the kid’s parents seem to make him hunt his own food. And there aren’t many animals in Gotham other than stray cats, raccoons, and rats. Danny, naturally, is surprised when, instead of being scolded for fighting a rogue on his turf, Batman gives him a handful of those not-granola bars, and two hundred dollars cash. He also wasn’t expecting Batman’s first words to him to be “Go to the corner of Pacific Circle and Evergreen boulevard, they have more nutrient bars for metas there,” but he’ll take what he can get.

And the pat on the head was nice. It was soft, and he saw it coming, and it didn’t knock the wind out of his lungs like his dad’s hugs and back-slaps did. It was nice, and no, Jazz, he was not forming a parasocial relationship with Batman of all people. He was just someone who gave him food and cash, that’s it. It still felt really nice for someone to care about what he needed to eat, though.

He does go to the specified store and get a bunch of different nutrient bars, and makes sure to store them where they won’t come to life. It helps more than he thought it would.

As is her duty, Babs teases the hell out of Bruce for being soft on this one random black-haired, blue-eyed meta kid. You gave him a head pat. A head pat, Bruce. Try not to break out the bat-adoption papers. 

[zeggyzone]

off-air | isekko

iso/gekko (valorant) tags: love confessions, domestic fluff, feelings realization, snuggling & cuddling, might be ooc, cross-posted on ao3

synopsis: while iso is trying to blow off some steam after a stressful day, gekko texts him. fifteen minutes later, he's in his best friend's room on wash day. bonding ensues.

sfw. 5.1k words.

notes: - most of this was written at 3-5 am, so if you see any grammatical errors, *no you didn't.* - iso and gekko have a pre-existing friendship; a close one at that! they have platonically held hands, hugged, all of that while trying to break iso out of his shell :) - sorry if it's out of character - i also wrote this while listening to iso and gekko's canonical spotify playlists, along with the isekko playlist made by lili on spotify! - the name of this fic in my documents is "The Oneshot Where Iso and Gekko Confess Over A Bathtub On A Random Tuesday" hahaha

STOKYO DRIFT, Cemetary Drive I said I’m ready to cash out I said I’m ready to– I said I’m ready to– I said I’m ready to–

Iso exhales.

Just a round at the Range. It’s that simple. Blow off some steam, Zhao Yu.

It’s that simple. No strings attached. It was just him, his Raging Hunter (which he customized with the help of Raze just a while back– she helped everyone with it at one point, and Iso was on her supposed list of clientele), and a bunch of robot dummies.

Truth be told, Iso didn’t even know why he was here. In recent meetings with Sage, he found himself sitting across from her in her own bed, talking about the nightmares he experiences on the daily. The gunfire, the blood, the flashes of violet.

Especially the gunfire.

Yet here he was, Raging Hunter in his hand, doing the one thing he knows how to do in a last-ditch effort to calm himself down. He pulls back the hammer with his thumb, exhaling as he flicks his arm towards the ‘start’ button, squeezing the trigger ever so slightly–

Bzzt.

What.

Iso tries to ignore the buzzing in his front pocket, gently vibrating against his side. He steadies his aim, but it buzzes again, and he sighs, holstering his Raging Hunter, and pulling out his phone.

SECURE SERVER_VAL.VP // PRIVATE MESSAGE: GEKKO-ISO

GEKKO [15:41 UTC]

yo yo yo can u help me clean wings ?

Iso blinks.

You have to send five back-to-back texts to get that point across?

ISO [15:42 UTC]

Why so sudden ?

GEKKO [15:42 UTC]

yk how he gets and he likes u Hes fussing so fuckin bad rn holy shit

[SYSTEM] Gekko sent an image. [A 0.5x photo. Gekko looks disgruntled at the camera. He’s in a black shirt, and you can see Wingman crawling out of the tub.]

Iso almost laughs.

ISO [15:42 UTC]

Let me clean up. Ill be there in 15

GEKKO [15:43 UTC]

THANK YOU DUDE I was going actually crazy you are like a life saver

ISO [15:42 UTC]

👍

Thumbs-up? Thumbs-up?

Holy shit.

Iso unholsters his sidearm, putting on the safety as he makes his way to the teleporter, walking through it with a shudder (he’ll never get used to it) and making another healthy stride toward the locker room. He passes Omen’s desk, glancing at his bonsai tree left with a refilled watering can as he puts four of his fingers on the handle, the fingerprint scanner whirring and clicking the locker open with a little green light. Iso puts away his gun in the tiny mold left in the back part of the locker.

On the little hanger for his mission outfit, he has a woven bracelet Gekko made him a few weeks prior; red, purple, white, and black in nature. He took it off before training. It means quite a bit to him, and he would hate to mess it up.

He goes to close his locker, looking at it for a moment, hesitating, then closing it.

He was going to help bathe Wingman– he doesn’t want to get it dirty.

Iso’s sneakers pitter against the floor, narrow steps suddenly growing heavy as he approached Gekko’s door. He knocks, putting his hands in his pockets immediately after.

Gekko doesn’t seem to notice, as Iso hears small Spanish curse words leave his lips behind the muffled door. Iso shrugs, pushing the sliding door open with a small huff. He closes it behind him and walks towards Gekko’s bathroom door, generously left open for his incoming guest.

The sight is comedic. Wingman is hurdled over his owner’s shoulder, trying to squirm his way out of Gekko’s grip, both hands reaching outward like a baby trying to reach something. Gekko has his hands on Wingman’s chubby jelly sides, holding him back with an iron grip. Wingman suddenly falls limp at the sight of Iso, except for the grabby hands that continue. Gekko turns around, confused.

“Oh, shit, you’re here.” His eyes widen, letting go of Wingman. He hops down to climb Iso like a jungle gym, and Iso picks him up before his pants get any soap on them, walking over to the tub once again, and placing Wingman in.

“Let me take off my jacket. I can’t really help with all this stuff on–” Iso says, turning on his heel. Gekko gives him an acknowledging ‘aight’ and very gently scolds Wingman to stay.

Iso walks to Gekko’s bed (his radivore sling was notably discarded on the bed— a pair of eyes look at him) tugging his hoodie over his head. He neatly lies it on the end of Gekko’s bed, having done so quite a few times before (Gekko often called Iso up for a friendly hangout that consisted of Iso knocking out a few hours into their gaming sessions). He looks at the gloves on his hands, removing them with the tiniest bit of clamminess.

He feels weird without them.

He tucks them into the pockets of the hoodie, sliding over to Gekko’s post, and kneeling on the bathmat. Wingman looks up at Iso expectantly. “I’ve never… washed a radivore before.”

“All good. It’s pretty damn simple if you ask me. Just lather the little guy up with some soap until he’s extra squeaky clean. It’s the same for the rest of my crew.” Gekko explains, handing Iso the soap along with a little glove with bristles. Gekko has one on his non-dominant hand. “And you literally can’t mess this up. Bro loves you.”

Iso nods, taking it. “Pfft, I hope so,” he responds, feeling the warm water against his one bare hand.

He’s not particularly used to having his gloves off. Sure, he takes them off when he has to, but otherwise, they stay on. He feels practically naked without them. The same goes for his headphones. His little earbuds are in his ears, playing music low enough to the point where he can still understand what Gekko is saying.

UBER EATS, Northside Hollow & Ethan Ross

Gekko watches as Iso puts on the glove. He places his bare hand to hold Wingman gently as Iso puts a generous amount of soap on the garment, lathering it on Wingman’s jelly head. He watches attentively, folding his arms on the edge of the bathtub to rest his head in. Gekko takes in the sight in front of him; Iso, in his bathroom, washing his little buddy with all of the benignity in the world.

Iso glances toward Gekko, a small huff leaving his lips, “So you called me here to do your dirty work for you?”

“No, I called you here to be Wingman’s .. uhh, social … buffer. He likes you. I’m using my resources to my advantage! Boom.” Gekko moves his hands to the best of his ability despite resting on them– his animated self refuses to go unseen even in a moment of exhaustion. “He’s been fussy all day,” Gekko reaches his gloved hand to lather some soap on the radivore’s back, “but the second you show up,” a short breath, “se convierte en un angelito.”

Iso understood ‘convierte’ and ‘angelito’ when placed together. He assumed from context clues… “He turns into an angel.”

He stifles a laugh.

…

“Hey,”

Gekko blinks, “What’s good?”

“I’ve been wanting to ask–” he keeps his gaze on Wingman, but he can feel Gekko staring him down, “–we never exchanged names. Of course, we have our callsigns, but … that’s different. I just feel since we’ve been hanging out so often we should refer to each other as something more … uh, friendlier than … Gekko. Or Iso.”

“Oh?” Gekko furrows his brows, running his bare hand through his prickly green hair, “Damn, you’re right,”

It was… odd, admittedly, but, when he really thought about it, Iso was right. How many weeks has it been? Hell, it’s probably been a bit more than a few months. He’s been hanging out with this guy almost non-stop and yet, they don’t know each other’s actual names.

Iso knocks him free from his thoughts. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I’m so down. Just, how do we like, go about this? Like… yo, man, my name is blah, blah, blah.”

 Iso offers a playful smile, “Rock, paper, scissors for it?” he asks, swatting his bare hand in the air to remove excess droplets, drying it to the best of his ability. “If I lose, I go first. And vice versa.” He holds his fist out to indicate the beginning of the game.

Gekko laughs, a small grin on his face as he puts his fist up. “Oh, you’re on.”

“Aight– rock, paper, scissors, shoot–!”

Iso plays paper.

Gekko plays scissors. “Tough luck.”

Iso lets out a small laugh, returning to washing Wingman. He keeps his gaze on the radivore, feeling Gekko’s eyes burn into him like fire.

“My full name is Li Zhao Yu.” Iso makes sure to accentuate every letter.

“Li … Zhao Yu,” Gekko repeats it back to him, getting a few of the syllables wrong, but Iso is quick to correct him— gently, of course.

“Shit, that’s cool. So, it’d be just Zhao Yu, right?” He asks after the mild training, lifting his head up from the side of the tub, holding himself up by his chin.

“Yeah, basically.” Iso shrugs, returning to washing Wingman.

“Yo, could I mash those together? I think that’d be a pretty sick nickname,” before Iso could say anything, Gekko spits out, “Zhayu. It’s like, not even that different, but, it sounds cool as fuck, right?”

Iso looks at Gekko, eyes wide.

“I don’t have to use it if you don’t wanna—“

“No,” Iso says almost immediately, “I mean— no, I like it. I just haven’t had someone give me a nickname in— I don’t know— forever,” Iso admits with a small laugh, rinsing Wingman. “It’s nice. I like it.”

Gekko lets out the tiniest sigh of relief, “Good. I didn’t wanna like, overstep.”

Iso nods followed by a small hum of acknowledgement. “It’s your turn.”

“Oh, yeah— we doin’ full names, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Oh man,” Gekko says between a laugh, pushing himself to sit up straight. He reaches over for the towel on the counter, holding it and awaiting Iso to hold him up, clearing his throat, “My full, legal, name is Mateo Armendáriz De la Fuente.”

“… what.”

Gekko laughs even harder than last time, “Dude, that’s why I asked. It’s kind of a mouthful.” He bites back a laugh, “You can just call me Mateo.”

“Mateo … Armen—what? Woah, you’re right,” Iso says with a tiny laugh punctuating the end of his sentence, “if you think you butchered my name, I wouldn’t even know where to begin with yours.”

He then realizes the meaning behind his words, quick to defend himself, “I’m not saying your name is weird or anything— it’s just hard for me to pronounce— or uh, remember, in that sense.”

“Maybe I should just stick to Mateo.”

Gekko laughs, thankfully.

“I’ll learn your full name, trust me,” Iso says, drying off Wingman like a little baby.

“I know, man.”

“But, now that I’m looking at you… you really do strike me as a Mateo.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gekko raises a brow, a little smile on his lips.

“Oh— nothing, it just— makes sense?” Iso quickly explains, not wanting to offend.

“Dude, you’re chill. I’m just playin’.”

Iso blinks, turning back to Wingman. “One more thing,”

“Yeah?”

“Where did your crew’s names come from?” Iso asks out of the blue, holding Wingman up in the air next to his head, making him face Gekko with him.

“Honestly, most of them kinda just … came to me,” Gekko admits, not having an exact answer. “I kinda named them based on their whole ability thing—? I dunno how to explain it.”

“Dizzy has that plasma thing— and guess what! Makes people dizzy. Get it?” He shrugs, “Wingman’s kinda self-explanatory. He’s my wingman.”

“Then, uh, Thrash. She was kind of the more aggressive outta-all of them? And if we’re goin’ back to the whole ability-based-name-thing, Mosh seems pretty self-explanatory too, yeah?”

“I guess— makes more sense now,” Iso shrugs. “And that’s pretty cu—“

Cool.

“— cu-ool,” Iso catches himself, making a weird new word in trying to save himself from that embarrassment.

He quickly holds up Wingman for Gekko to dry, and lest Iso’s anticipations, Gekko doesn’t take Wingman from his hands, just running the towel on Wingman to dry him off.

Iso feels Gekko’s hands against his, hindered by the towel between them as he holds Wingman while Gekko pats him down to dry the little guy. A tiny rosyness creeps up to the round of Iso’s cheeks as he watches Gekko’s hands, hyper-aware of the fact that they would be touching if it weren’t for the towel working as a barrier.

Iso looks away, tapping his finger on Wingman as gently as he can to the beat of the song playing in his earbuds.

Gekko’s eyes flick up to Iso midway through the task, and he smiles. Gekko smiles up at Iso and he returns it without a second thought.

“Yo, you’re all red, amigo.”

No fucking way.

“Há? No, am I? I’m not, no, it’s just the light, no?” Iso sprints through his words, looking at Gekko everywhere but his eyes. He utters a curse in Chinese, tilting his head away in an effort to hide his supposed blush. “Sorry.”

backseat, jungle bobby & lentra.

“Pfft,” Gekko lets out the tiniest giggle, “It’s aight.”

Iso comes back to reality when Wingman shimmies out of his grip, running back to the harness on Gekko’s bed. He almost begs the little radivore to stay– to save him from this terrible situation. He thinks he could die.

Instead, Iso looks at the radivore harness like a broken man, and Gekko laughs even harder, forcing Iso to get up.

“I’m grabbing my hoodie.” He announces, shuffling towards the bed.

“Oh, come on– I don’t mean to tease–”

Iso rolls his eyes, falling onto Gekko’s bed, face first. He grabs his hoodie– gently pushing Gekko’s harness out of the way– now pulling the pull-over up under his chin as a pillow. 

He didn’t want to believe he was in love with his best friend, but Iso knew he was too far gone to even deny it anymore. The way Gekko laughed, the way he teased him, the jokes he made, and the considerate things he did for him, whether it be making little woven bracelets or buying him Boba whenever he went out— that was all casual, right? It had to be.

Gekko walks out– Iso doesn’t notice– and sits near the headboard, looking down at him with yet another teasing grin. It’s fucking lethal.

Then, with that smile, Iso realizes.

Of fucking course it wasn’t.

Iso averts his gaze, jaw dropped as he came to that realization.

“Relax, bro. You’re gonna pop a blood vessel.” He hears Gekko say.

Iso shoves his face into his hoodie. There’s silence until Gekko asks the burning question,

“Were you going to say that it was cute, or am I crazy?”

Iso groans. “Do we really– do we really have to talk about this now??” He says with half of his speech muffled as he finally peeks up from his hoodie, blush flaring into his pale skin.

“I mean, you’ve slipped up a lot like that before. I dunno why you’re tweakin’ right now,” Gekko shrugs.

That sentence makes Iso’s heart drop.

“I’ve what.”

Gekko looks at Iso and is met with a beautiful picture; he’s resting on his bed (his!) and his eyes are a bright violet, looking at Gekko with a wide expression. If Gekko could peer into his mind, he’d only find that Iso is so embarrassed that he might as well have been stripped bare in public– but despite all of it, he finds Iso sprawled like this endearing. It’s hilarious, even– how did Iso not notice Gekko noticing all of the little moments? The stolen glances, the lingering touches, the late-night talks– Gekko almost laughs at his obliviousness.

The silence is almost suffocating, so Gekko begins, “Zhayu,” a breath, “you’re not as slick as you think.”

Gekko looks at Iso’s hands, and they’re balled into tight fists, and when he looks into those raging violet eyes again, they’re twitching.

“And…” Iso sounds out of breath, “You never told me?!”

Gekko blinks. Then he howls.

“No! Don’t laugh–!“ Iso pushes himself up, kneeling on the bed in a position that would definitely make his feet numb later, “Gekk– Mateo. How long? And— just how many times have I slipped up like this around you?” Iso curses just a few seconds after the delivery of that sentence, running a hand through his hair, forehead moist.

Gekko sits up straight, adjusting his sitting stance into crisscrossed, looking away as he puckers his lips, drumming his hands on his thighs, “Man, you know… like… was I supposed to count?”

Iso’s eyebrows drop.

“Mateo, I will strangle you right here, right now.” Iso threatens, but his hands don’t move from his knees. Gekko looks at him with a dubious look, and Iso realizes he isn’t exactly feeding into the whole ‘fear factor’ of it. He’s quick to lift up his hands in front of him and exaggerate the motion as if he’s moving Gekko’s head back and forth like a maraca.

It’s silent.

Then, it’s enough to make Gekko fall into a giggle fit. Then, Iso gets mad that he’s not taking his threat seriously. Then, Iso is so mad that he starts laughing. Hard.

He’s hurled over on his knees, holding his stomach as he falls onto his side, just next to Gekko’s knee, and his gut hurts. His gut hurts from laughing, and Iso realizes he’s laughing with no one better than Gekko himself. Iso cough-laughs, covering his mouth. Gekko is hitting himself with his fist, smack dab in the chest to stop himself from coughing. Iso remembers the little ‘I lowkey have asthma’ and one last laugh bubbles out from his throat.

He looks at where the woven bracelet Gekko made him a few weeks ago would be and imagines it; purple, white, red, and black, all woven together to create a sense of Iso in itself.

He feels naked. Yet the mirage reminds him that he would protect it with his life.

Gekko deflates, his arms lining up behind him to keep himself steady. His head falls to where Iso’s head is, then his unusually bare wrist.

“Where’s your bracelet?” He asks, reaching over, and tapping on the little pulse point where it would be. “I thought you liked it.”

“I didn’t want to mess it up when we cleaned Wingman,” Iso breathes, his voice tired.

Gekko hums.

Iso blinks.

“You’re my best friend, you know that?” Iso says blankly, feeling Gekko’s fingers brush up against his wrist ever so slightly as he retreats them back to hold himself up. Iso’s fingers twitch with anticipation. He bites his lip softly, looking at Gekko’s surprisingly soft hands, despite them looking so rough.

Iso keeps half of his face in the sheets, left cheek squished up against the surface. He rests on the bed, getting comfortable with Gekko at his side, legs crossed and looking at him like he is a piece of valuable, fragile treasure and not the cold-hearted ‘Dead Lilac’ killer everyone made him out to be.

No, Iso corrects himself, not everyone. Me.

Iso is who makes himself out to be the Dead Lilac. He leaves that behind today; hopefully forever.

“And you’re mine, querido.” Gekko breathes, his foreign tongue slipping. Gekko registers what he said seconds later, quick to change the subject, “You look like a cat like this.”

Iso mumbles, “Querido? What does that…” But he gives up halfway through the question, mostly because he knows Gekko won’t tell him what it means. “A cat?” He instead asks, raising a brow. Gekko flicks his cheek, and he mumbles a small “ow” as soon as the stinging feeling occurs. “I’m not going to meow if that’s what you’re asking.”

A chuckle, “That sucks.”

“Ew, you want me to meow?” Iso feigns a laugh, hiding his full face in the sheets to muffle the tiny effervesce, before coming back to look up at Gekko. “You’re so weird, Mateo.”

“Hater.”

Iso sticks his tongue out, lifting his right arm to flick Gekko’s nose.

“Ow.”

Then it’s quiet. Iso hates quiet.

“Teo. I want to ask you something.”

supernova, Godly the Ruler.

Gekko feels like he knows what’s coming. “Ask away.”

“Have you ever thought about …” Iso pauses, looking away to regain some of the composure that he lost as he began the sentence, “Have you ever thought about us? And what we are?” Iso exhales, unaware he is holding his breath. “Because I don’t know what we are at this very moment.”

Iso had avoided eye contact for so long. He brings himself to look at Gekko, and he looks at him the second the look in his best friend’s eyes alters.

“I have.” A deep breath, “Many times.”

“What do you think about? What are we?” Iso asks.

He quickly adds to the end, “To you?”

“I…” Gekko purses his lips, “Well, right now. We’re just homies, yeah?”

“At the moment … I’d say so.”

Iso looks at where the bracelet would be— a fond reminder of their camaraderie. Then he looks into Gekko’s eyes and finds the same unreadable look. He looks at Iso’s wrist with such fondness. Happiness. Content. A secret fourth thing. Iso finds comfort in it.

“What about everything else you’ve thought of?”

“You really wanna know?”

“Do you want to tell me?” Iso asks, avoiding Gekko’s gaze, and he realizes that their two hands are almost grazing— holding each other. Iso’s hand twitches again. “If so, yes.”

“Pfft,” Iso swears he sees a mischievous glint in Gekko’s eyes, “Least serious… uuh…”

“I’ve thought of kissing you.”

Iso’s face distorts, pursing his lips as he shoots up from his lying position. “Least serious?! That’s the most uncasual thing I can think of!” He almost shouts out of pure shock. He’s not angry, just confused.

Gekko belly laughs, his hand smacking onto his stomach to support himself, “I’m playin’! There’s stuff before that, tonto.”

Iso wants to smack him for messing with him like that. That thought is wiped when he sees the red against Gekko’s ears and he’s done for. Smitten.

“And… compared to other shit, I think that’s pretty tame.”

…

“You’re so gross.” Iso blurts out.

“What? You wanted the truth, so you got the truth,” Gekko holds his hands up in defense before falling next to him again, “and to give you the whole truth, if I were to tell you what I’m thinking now, it’d be... that… ay…” Gekko’s right hand returns to his face, covering his mouth and trailing down his jaw, “maybe there have been times I’ve thought about us– and not as what we said we were a few minutes ago.”

Iso understands those connotations. He looks in the middle of their laps, almost touching. He exhales.

“I would say that the thought is mutual.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” A pause, “... Yes.”

“Mateo, I—“ Iso purses his lips. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“You welcomed me. Open arms. I don’t know if you… if you knew, but, you invited me anyway. I didn’t know if you were just like that with everyone, but– either way, you– you are just… perfect. I got to know you and I was like, how could anyone ever hate this guy? You’re everything, you’re all that there is right, and, wǒ qù, I can’t even fucking describe–” 

It’s hot. Then Iso realizes why.

Gekko leans in, pressing their lips together in a tender, soft embrace. Iso’s lips are the tiniest bit chapped against Gekko’s fairly soft ones, and he eats it all up. He relishes the feeling of his lips on Gekko’s— his best friend.

He stays like that for a hot minute, pulling away and looking at Gekko like a lost kitty who had found homage in him. He catches his breath.

“... I didn’t know how to shut you up–”

“Oh my God.” Iso smacks Gekko’s shoulder and in return, he pokes him in the side.

Iso jolts, letting out a quiet yelp— one that’s a bit out of character for his assassin background.

Then Gekko has a devious look on his face.

Was the fabled ‘Dead Lilac’ … ticklish?

Iso quickly covers his mouth in embarrassment, grip tightening as he realizes the noise he just let out. He looks at Gekko.

“No way.”

“No. It wasn’t anything. That wasn’t me, it was … Thrash—“ Iso quickly tries to back himself up, hand slipping from his mouth and immediately going to cover his sides as a last defense.

“Uh-huh. And where is Thrash?” He asks, nudging his head towards his harness as his hand reaches over to an exposed part of Iso’s side.

“Mateo!” Iso quickly scrambles away, rolling over to the other side of the bed, getting on his knees, and holding his left arm in front of him, creating distance between them as his right arm wraps around his own waist, trying to protect himself from an impending tickle attack.

“I will wrestle you on this bed and win.”

“I have little siblings and cousins. Fuckin’ bring it.”

And then he pounces.

The tickle match is full of empty threats, foreign curses, and lots of giggles. Too many. There was a cackle here and there, maybe even a snort. By the time it ended, Gekko fell from his place on top of Iso, lying next to him with a few laughter-filled coughs. Iso catches his breath.

“Mateo,”

A breathless “Yeah?”

“I wanna be your boyfriend.”

Iso’s headphones die.

A deep breath, “Can I?”

Iso stares at the ceiling. He notices Gekko is, too.

It’s quiet. So fucking quiet.

But Iso can handle it now.

Gekko is next to him, their arms are touching, and the silence isn't deafening for once. He feels the energy in the room and it doesn’t suffocate him, if anything, he’s breathing better.

“Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

Iso turns on his side. Gekko faces him.

Iso’s tired expression shifts into a happy, close-eyed smile as he tackles Gekko into a bear hug, invariably pushing him down onto the bed, putting his full body weight onto the poor guy, hugging him tightly. “Thank you.”

Gekko let out an involuntary gasp as Iso suddenly tackled him down onto the bed, nearly winding him as felt Iso’s full weight. He laughed softly, the air knocked out of him as he lay there under, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm, wrapping his arms around Iso and holding him tightly against his chest.

“Yeah, mi corazón,” he said softly, “Thank you.”

“Corazón,” Iso exhales against Gekko’s neck, pushing himself off from the top, “what does that mean?” He asks, breathing against Gekko’s chest, cheek squished against it. He holds him softer now, breathing in Gekko’s cologne.

“My heart,” Gekko says, a careful hand running up Iso’s clothed back, drawing small circles, “you are my heart, Zhao Yu.”

“If I am your heart,” he feels Gekko’s heartbeat against his cheek, “then, you are my treasure,” Iso smiles, “bǎo bèi.”

“Bǎo bèi…” he repeats sleepily, “mi tesoro.” Gekko breathes.

“I love it when you speak Spanish, Teo.” Iso says, nickname rolling off his tongue tiredly. “I don’t understand it, but it’s…” a huff, “nice.”

Gekko has a feeling he wanted to say something else, “Yeah?”

Iso realizes he’s fucking done for (again), “¿Te gusta cuando hablo español, mi tesoro?”

“Augh, stop it,” Iso rolls his eyes, pushing Gekko’s face back by his chin, looking away, laughing just a little bit. “You’re such a tease, sha bī.”

“Aww, is that another cute nickname?”

“No. I called you an idiot.”

“Oh. Chúpamela.” Gekko deadpans, flicking Iso’s forehead with little to no remorse.

Iso laughs and realizes that this is all he has ever wanted. This was bliss, and Iso has felt this way for as long as he was in Gekko’s presence. He moves ever so slightly, just so he can smell Gekko’s cologne, and his new boyfriend allows it. It smells of lemon zest with the faint undertones of green apple and vanilla. Iso swears that he can smell the tiniest bit of cedarwood. That combination with Gekko’s personal musk makes him dizzy. (Pun intended)

“You smell good.”

“You like my cologne? I wanted to try a new one.” Gekko says breathily, drumming the pads of his fingers on Iso’s back in a rhythmic pattern.

“I know. You smelled different.” Iso mumbles, inhaling. “I like this one better, though. The other one was too…” He thinks of a descriptor, “Smoky.”

“I used to layer two colognes,” Gekko admits, “The footnotes on it were tobacco, vanilla, then uhh… truffle, I think.”

“Too smoky.”

“It was a gift from Brimstone. I felt kinda bad,” He mumbled, “I’d feel better if he taught me how the hell he got his score so high in the video games in the basement.”

“You’re still trying to beat it?”

“Yeah.”

“… wait, you noticed that I changed my cologne?” Gekko blinks, looking down at Iso, who looks up to him bashfully.

“Maybe,” he exhales, adjusting his position to face away from Gekko, “it’s a very discernible smell— anyone would notice.”

“Sure.”

Gekko slightly spoons Iso, resting his head atop his, breathing in. “Damn, your hair smells like…” he thinks, “Tangerines?” he says with a slight hint of confusion in his voice.

“It’s just my shampoo,” Iso hums, shifting himself to tilt his head up at Gekko, “I like tangerines.”

“Me too,” Gekko says.

Quietly, Iso asks, “We just gonna stay like this?”

“What time is it?”

Iso looks at the alarm clock to the side. Before he can speak, his stomach grumbles, which prompts Gekko to ask instead, “Have you eaten?”

“I had breakfast.”

“You need to eat.”

Iso exhales knowing there’s no stopping Gekko– he’s already getting up and Iso follows that action. It’s quick, it’s swift, and his new boyfriend grabs his wrist and pulls him up onto his feet, intertwining their hands. They’ve held hands before– you know, in cases where Gekko is dragging him through a crowd at a festival or Iso has to pull him away from getting distracted while the agents go shopping. But this was different. The old Iso would probably tug his hand away, but the new Iso is comforted by this scenario– better yet, he seeks it. He never wants to let go of it and he doesn’t think he ever will. Gekko’s touch is grounding and Iso feels his mind go quiet as their fingers interlace. His free hand comes to remove his headphones and awkwardly puts them in the case, shoving his hand into his pocket.

“Alright.”

He’s gotten used to this.

hope you enjoyed! it's my second valorant fic i've written, so hopefully i did them justice.

here's my twitter! check it out please i need moots (not just valorant) LMAO

[brainrot-goes-brrrrrr]

More Random SBG headcanons

Taylor loves any form of photo opportunity, but her favorite would be photo booths. If she sees one she will drag anyone, mainly Tyler, into one to take pictures. She has an album somewhere full of these photos, and the first photo in the book is of her, Tyler, her mom, and her dad when they were little at an aquarium.

Aiden is great at video games. Since he was left home alone often, he probably turned to video games for entertainment. Considering Aiden’s tendency to seek out thrills, he would probably turn to horror or timed games.

It is 2016 I’m allowed to say this, Aiden was a FNAF kid, and I feel like the twins might have been as well. Taylor watched a lot of playthroughs as a kid and got Tyler into it so they would watch it together. Tyler was freaked out by it and refused to watch it in full screen, he probably went to the comments to look for a jump scare list. Aiden is a lore freak, if given an opportunity he would give a several-hour-long spiel about the entire timeline.

Firm believer that Logan’s glasses have Coke bottle lenses. This is probably not true, I just think it would be funny if his lenses went out of the frames.

Baron is terrified of Tyler. Not in the way that Tyler would beat him in a fight, but because the baseball coach would be fond of him. Tyler already puts a lot of his effort toward his sport, so he probably has a closer relationship with the coach than the other players. So if Tyler were to tell the coach the shit this guy does, I feel like he could do some damage to Barron. The only reason Tyler hasn’t told the coach about everything that Barron has done is because Barron is a valuable player for him. After all, if the team looks good, then he’ll look good for scholarships.

Ashlyn gets cold pretty easily. In the winter she has to look like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man so she can be somewhat comfortable. I thought that the it was called the State-Puff Marshmallow Man my life is a lie

Ashlyn is also pretty muscular because she does ballet— lean muscle. Ballet requires so much control and strength to pull off, so it would only make sense. Have you seen how buff ballerinas are?

Both Aiden and Taylor were scary movie and scary game fans. Aiden loves the thrill of the stories, and Taylor loves creepy/eerie things as we saw with her enthusiasm in a haunted tour of the Sorrel Weed House. When they hang out, they either watch a recent horror movie that came out or a new game that Aiden had gotten.

Ben, Logan, and Tyler, however, can not handle horror and they get jumpy around it. Ben and Logan openly express that they don’t care for the genre, but Tyler just kind of avoids it/does not want to admit he is scared by it. If they have to watch a horror movie, Logan will be curled up in a blanket near Ashlyn covering his eyes to avoid the jump scares(he fails miserably), and Ben is huddled up around Taylor and Aiden because their presence comforts him. Tyler is either sitting somewhat apart from the group or on the other side of Ashlyn trying to act tough, he is failing miserably, resulting in Aiden, Taylor, and Ashlyn teasing him.

Mike and Emma treat all of the kids as if they were their own. At first, I think they were mainly fond of them because they were Ashlyn’s first and only friends as well as them always being at their house. I think it also has something to do with the fact that they spent at least a month teaching them self-defense to protect themselves and each other. Finding out about everyone’s situation, I think they just want to protect them.

Speaking of the previous headcanon, Tyler sees Mike as a father figure, and it kind of just eats at him/leaves him with some conflicting feelings. He is a bit envious of Ashlyn for having such caring parents, and it comes with a bit of guilt when he looks at her for a while. I think Mike realizes this and tries to be there for him. I don’t think it is the same for Taylor because Tyler stepped up to that role, similar to the relationship between Katara and Sokka in Avatar the Last Airbender.

[circular-bircular]

I'm putting this blog to rest.

I'm done. I'm out. And god, is it a relief.

You might notice I'm posting this around the same time that SAS is posting a major post in an effort to light the tag on fire. I highly doubt it'll work, but it's the best attempt. Me and SAS are close. Nearly one in the same, some days...

You'll notice the end of the post says, "just wait for what happens next."

This is what happens next.

I'm deleting my syscourse blogs. Finally. No "maybe I will" or "I've been considering it." I've been considering it for a loooong time, and I've actually been intending on getting rid of Circular's-Reasoning for awhile now. I just... haven't had the energy to.

But now... My life is moving on. I'm moving on, quite literally, I gain possession of my new house... probably today when I end up posting this. I'm not sure, it's my first draft, we'll see how this goes. That's terrifying to realize. I'm like... an adult. I'm an adult who's craving good conversations about my disorder, about systemhood and how it's conceptualized, and more intricate parts of my selfhood. And... Syscourse just is not that.

I've done this sort of thing before, if you all know MotCR -- @memoriesofthecircularroom, for the uninitiated. That's the OG Circular Blog, and is an archive of the first few years of syscourse. But... Now, it's going to become a bit more. Here's my game plan.

I update MotCR to be the Circular Archive. Anything I think needs archiving -- good posts of mine, silly reblogs, or just good posts overall where I added something of my own -- will get reblogged there. It's gonna be busy for a bit.

In the meantime while I start that process, I answer any and all final questions/asks or drafts that've been in the works. I don't want to leave people hanging.

I delete a lot of blogs. And... I do mean a lot -- not even just the syscourse ones. Just the ones I think it's time to let go of.

I've often teased how many blogs I have. It's fluctuated wildly in the past. But here's the down and dirty. Here's what I own, and what I'm planning on removing.

@circular-bircular (Hi, Hello, You're Here)

@circulars-reasoning (Already planned to be gone awhile ago)

@systemquirks (I just don't have the energy to run it, and I'm so sorry for that)

@yourfaveissecretlysas (Yes, I am the one running that)

@system-confessions (Surprise! No name blog that barely exists, again, I don't have the energy)

@debunkingsyscourse (Look, I make these too easily)

@equalsys (Not sure how this is a shocker to anyone)

@ricejustdidthings (An old system-no-syscourse blog I have that I don't use anymore)

@my-systems-cringe (Been meaning to delete this for ages)

@circulars-answers (Unneeded)

And potentially one other, unnamed for now blog -- that's the one I've never told people I have outside of select discords...

So that's 11 blogs I'm getting rid of, potentially more. And that's with me still keeping 2 syscourse blogs and an 18+ system blog. Jesus christ.

It feels good to get it off my chest, though. It feels really good to be leaving.

"But Circ! Your posts make me happy!"

Fantastic! You can follow the new system blog I'm going to be making, @thecircularsystem (is that link working? I don't know, it's a brand new blog.)

Try this link out instead if that doesn't work!

I'm still going to be posting system related content there. I'm still going to be doing my normal random shit that I always do. I may even dabble in syscourse -- and definitely in sysconversation. I like that tag! But I'm not going to be doing syscourse nearly as often, and I'm going to try and stay out of that tag in search of reblogs and such. Too often, it results in me getting aggressive with someone, rather than just... spreading good information about systems, or existing online as I want to exist.

I just need a refresh. A new step, a big change. I'm moving on.

I really hope you all can too <3

[aqours]

ok i REAAAAAALLY need to make a dedicated sideblog for this shit now i realize bc this game is gonna fucking fully get me dragged into this discourse so i'm gonna make an active effort to stop putting these on main, but i can't see myself saying more beyond this in general but ANYWAAAAYS

so i recently made this post about the cognitive dissonance regarding this game and people using fucking CALL OF DUTY a game that is more or less a recruitment drive to make the US military look cool and try to get kids to join up and that GTA's wanted system is actually NOT rewarding you or something to try to play a dick measuring contest with coffin but this interaction really interested me and i wanna talk about it bc i just blocked them after they refused to answer the last question but this is a very specific kind of gaslighting tactic i'm very familiar with from my own days as an anti

i think p much all of us who are used to engaging with this discourse are used to like y'know, being called awful horrible disgusting things. this is not the first time some fucking weird random person came onto my content asking me if i was a kid didler or wanted to fuck my brother. ain't gonna be anywhere near the last time either folks, but i and Lord God knows that's not the case so i don't care what a rando on the internet says but here's the thing: you can't "win" this, but they want to win it. no matter what you say you are the absolute worst kind of dreg of society that should be shot behind a barn and no amount of anything would work. if i actually pulled a list of sourced all that would have happened was they would've doubled down on calling me an inc*s*ious p*d* that I would be willing to use articles probably written by "people like me." because YOU don't care about "winning" this argument, you just wanna get the facts out on your end. it's a catch-22 folks, nothing you say will get you out of it!

i started by calling them a karen, they immediately escalated the living FUCK out of it and tried to trap me in this catch-22 to keep feeling morally superior to me. me saying i don't have such desires and never will isn't enough because i like this game. nothing but me renouncing it will change it.

but here's the thing about antis- they fucking HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE it when you turn it on them. look at the difference. look at the difference between they were the one throwing the catch-22 at me vs. the other way around. what about you? you just came onto my post to harass me, so i'll say it back. how about you? are you just accusing me of these horrible things because you are projecting your thoughts on me? you told me to get a therapist: so maybe you're the one that needs help if so!

violent video games must encourage violence, riiiiight? and you support it because it's violent. Game of Thrones had in*e*t in it so everyone who likes it also is the same. and Demon Slayer, where the pfp is from is violent, so you support it. the main protag's little sister also gets a superpowered form where she gets physically older and a tits out kinda look. so clearly YOU want to see your sister in the same way, right?

and it went as expected. you can see the tone going from smug jerking off with a shit-eating grin to just annoyed while smelling their own farts like it's a rose. and the moment i started doing the same uh i got NO fucking answers and they stormed off. i waited half an hour for a response before blocking them

so why am i typing up this walltext? because i used to be an anti. i fucking guarantee you i would've called everyone who liked this game [insert horrible things] like 7-9 years ago. so let me tell you, you know what pisses off antis more than anything? more than ANYTHING? turning this catch-22 bullshit on them. this is the only way you can end this miserable conversation without blocking them.

it's all one-sided bullshit and the moment you turn it on an anti it IMMEDIATLY shuts it down. this fucker KNEW the answer and you know it. so i wanted to share that, if you ever struggle with this shit: well the best thing you can do is block them and to give a fuck about winning their imaginary argument, but this is the only way to make the headache end otherwise. just throw the catch-22 right back and that's the end. thanks for reading!

[nyasbae]

sleep deprived

pairings: gustavo fring x fem!reader

summary: your boss noticed you’re overworking yourself and decides to do something about it.

a/n: gus got that email rizz

warnings: really messy lol

masterlist

You couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t. Gus had you making ninety pounds worth of meth every week, and due to your partners’ sudden disappearance, you were stuck doing all the work by yourself. You sighed, thinking back to how you got into this position.

You were a just a broke college student, trying to pay off your loans when you you met Jesse. You knew each other back in high school, and now he was your dealer. The two of you became buddies and one day you walked in on him and Walt talking about somebody named Gustavo Fring, the owner of a fast food restaurant with an undercover drug business.

You needed money and you convinced them to let join in. Realizing that the “the more the merrier” shit you had pulled really was just that, shit. After they had taught you the recipe, you ended up doing everything, always.

Gus had put to lines under the deadlines, signifying that if you didn’t get this done in time — there’d be consequences. At the same time you had a lot of due college assignments, and skipping all your lectures. So you practically lived in the lab, sleeping and eating there, until you had no time for either of those things.

You were leaning against the counter with a hand on your jaw, steadying your face. Your eyes shut and light snores coming out of your mouth. As Gus inspected your face, he realized you’d never once look so peaceful as you did in that moment.

“I see you’re getting a lot of work done,” he commented, knowing it’d wake you. Gus needed to talk to you about this. He had cameras everywhere and had been paying very close attention to how much time you’d been spending at the lap. You had your laptop and school books there, a few snacks and amount less cups of coffee.

The sudden sound of his voice startled you as you woke up with a final snore. “Shit– I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t even notice I was, uh’falling asleep” your slurred, your words blurring together due to your grogginess. You looked up at him with lazy eyes.

Gus looked at you through his glasses, his expression as emotionless as usual. You thought you saw a glimpse of emotion in his eyes, though it was probably just your sleep deprivation making you see things. Gustavo Fring doesn’t care for anyone. Especially not some random meth cook who can’t even do her job right… right?

“You should get home and get some rest, ___. Your drowsiness is affecting your work performance.” Stated as a fact, though functioning more as an excuse.

“I can’t, sir! I’ve only made like, half of the meth I was supposed to and–“ you rambled on, but he interrupted you almost instantly. “Stop it, ___! You have done your part. Your partners’s neglect of their responsibilities is not your problem,” as he shushed you, his expression remained the same though his voice got notably more aggressive. “I’ll consider getting you new partners, you’ve mastered the arts of cooking now.” In that moment, you couldn’t be bothered by his comment on your friends; all you wanted to do was go back to sleep.

“Are you absolutely sure? I’ll get back to work as soon as I wake up, I promise!” You insisted, and he shook his head. “No, you’ll have the rest of the week off,” he said. “I value your effort but I cannot have your drowsiness affect my product.” Gus explained while putting a gentle yet firm hand on your shoulder. You eyed the hand and as did he, though he didn’t let go before he you reluctantly agreed.

“Alright, I guess,” you sighed. He smiled professionally as he took out his notebook, scribbling something something. “Fantastic! Write down your email and we can discuss your work ethic further.” He demanded suggested, handing you a note and a pen. You smiled as you messily wrote down your email address and gave it back to him.

When you went to sleep that night all you could think about was your interaction earlier, and how this might’ve been his stiff attempt at flirting with you. Although you figured this could’ve easily been your head playing tricks on you agin.

When you woke up the next morning you noticed a gmail notification. Written bellow a gusfr@gmail.com it read:

Hello, I hope you slept a worthwhile and woke up energetic and better. I suggest we meet up at my restaurant to further discuss our game plan.

Sincerely, Gustavo Fring.

Did Gustavo Fring just ask out out on a date?

[kotylynnemerrill]

Okay y'all....here is the rest of ch. 1...or just another little section. Tbh I'm still not sure how I want this to flow but I'm working through the process.

Y'all know the drill 😁

Your words I hold forever

************* ❤️**********

11:52

Fez isn't sure how long it's been...how long they've been sitting here, but it must be getting close to midnight judging by the sudden surge in the party's energy. He's doesn't really care to be honest.

He focuses on her voice...the way her mouth moves as she speaks and Fez isn't entirely sure she's not giving him some sort of high from her presence alone or if the joint he just finished is finally kicking in.

Maybe she's a siren he thinks as his blue eyes flitter up to her brown ones...now bright and hypnotizing. Her guard is down, obviously in her element as she talks.

Lexi Howard is in fact a wealth of random knowledge and he loves it. She speaks about Christians stealing Christmas from the Germanic pagans, about how King James was rewriting the Bible while also trying to turn his pee into gold...whether or not Johnson would be successful in limiting the Soviet power in southeast Asia.

Fez wasn't necessarily a pessimist but neither was he optimistic when it came to the current governments abilities. Lexi was hopeful though despite agreeing with him. Like most of America, she was not so sure morally it was a great idea that the US got involved in the war in Vietnam.

The war had already caused a lot of devastation in the effort to stop the spread of communism...a lot of devastation economically as well.

This led to them talking about God and yet again Fez is surprised by this woman sitting next to him.

"Do you, like, not believe in God then?" Lexi shakes her head no...Fez calls her fearless. She laughs a little at this.

" I wouldn't say that...more like I'm guided by my severe discomfort of religion in general. I mean you look at all the shitty things happening in the world right now...I don't see how this person...this being who has all this power...power to stop the war...and all this unnecessary death, but doesn't. And we're just supposed to put all our faith in him? Say he works in mysterious ways and it's his will. It's cruel. I don't know if I'd want someone like that in charge of the entire universe or judging me for my actions for that matter." She heaves a sigh. "I'm not naive though...I realize that..."

"You don't gotta explain yourself. I get what you're sayin." Fez grins playfully. "I know by now you ain't one of those flower girls."

"you mean flower children?" Lexi laughs at the name bestowed upon the free loving group of people...also called hippies.

"Yeah...I'm not one of those either."

Lexi is all white teeth as she playfully nudges fez's worn leather loafer with her dark heel.

"Do you believe in God?" She asks quietly.

"Hell yeah I believe in God." Fez looks up towards the ceiling as if he could sense the 'big guy' looking down on them.

"Like there's a man sitting in the clouds...judging all your actions?"

"Hell yeah."

"Really?" Her eyebrows are raised and eyes wide. Not judging but genuinely curious.

"I mean...I look at it like this. We all do shit and eventually we gotta answer for it...the whole cost of havin free will and shit... balance. Ain't nobody exempt from that... especially not me. I've done things I've got to answer for you feel me? I've had to do what I had to - I ain't blamin anyone else for that shit though. But I don't think we're totally damned either."

Lexi tilted her head thoughtfully. "I'm still not a hundred percent on board but I see your point." Fez raises his hands, and slightly tilted his head as if to say 'well I tried '.

"You here with anybody?"

Lexi scrunches her nose again...annoyed...as if just remembering why she was here in the first place... remembering the source of her stress earlier.

"I was supposed to meet my sister here...she was supposed to ride back home with me after the party, but I'm pretty sure she ditched me."

"That's a shame. I'm real sorry to hear that. She's missing out" Fez flicked his eyes towards the crowd of dancing bodies. Wondered if she would join him for a dance...not that he was much of a dancer...but maybe...

"Ehh," Lexi gave a half-hearted shrug, "not really. I'm pretty boring. That's why none of my other friends bothered to come except Rue..." Lexi pauses, her brows furrowing in thought. "I haven't seen her either tonight."

Fez felt guilts chains tug at him again hearing this. She should be hanging out with Rue tonight...maybe if he had just kept a closer eye on her she wouldn't be..he didn't want to think about where she had gotten to...or what she was more than likely doing.

As hard as it was...he told himself again, tonight - whatever Rue was up to, was not his fault.

He turned his attention back to Lexi and the way her full lips were down turned. He wanted to see her smile again. If he made her smile...said a prayer before bed tonight, like his grandmother taught him...maybe God would be gracious enough to grant him protection and the will to get through what was to come in the coming months.

"What do you mean boring...you're like the coolest person here."

Lexi blanches at this, and furiously begins to denying what was obviously, in Fez's correct opinion, nothing but pure facts.

"Why would I lie?" Her cheeks are crimson again and she unsuccessfully tries to hide it (and the wide smile) behind her slender hand.

Fez could get used to this. He was definitely gonna make a conscious effort to pray more often... everyday in fact, if it would allow him to see her smile like this.

"...thanks." she folds her hands back in her lap again seemingly giving up on trying to hide the effect he had on her.

Yeah...he would pray everyday for the rest of his life if need be.

"Yo I gotta cut soon, but...I just wanted to tell you that...talking to you was one of the best parts of my whole year."

"Yeah right..." Lexi huffs and Fez feels his chest clench in agitation. Had no one ever told her how special she clearly was...how magical...

"Why you always do that shit?"

"What?"

"Like... doubting yourself and shit."

"Oh. Ion know...do I do that?"

"Mm... kinda." Fez let's his eyes flick over her before leaning foward, bracing his hands on his knees.

Courage...Courage...Courage...

"I really liked talkin to you tonight...for real. I'd like to do it again sometime."

Something shines in Lexi's eyes as she stares at him. Something warm and determined...like she had found the missing puzzle piece...and wasn't going to let it go.

"Yeah...me too."

[elfieafterdark]

GtN Chapter 3 Review!

Sorry it's been awhile friends! Things have been absolutely wild in my personal life, and the stress has prevented me from doing much of anything.

But, we back bitches! Let's get to the review!

Random Observations:

The line "eight new Lyctors joined with their cavaliers;" from the Emperor's summons gives me fucking chills 😬

I've always loved the description of the luminescent powder that the Reverend family paints on their face for service.

Sister Glaurica KNEW "what fate awaits cavaliers"... So uhhh, did she know about the eight-fold way??

"I pray the tomb is shut forever," recited Harrowhark, with the curious fervidity she always showed in prayer. Nah Gideon, she's just a simp and a hopeless romantic.

Part 1: Oof.mp3

What a spectacularly devastating chapter. The first two work really hard to endear us to Gideon, and to make us really really really hate Harrow. We want Gideon to escape at this point, we want her to have a grand adventure with the space military or something.

We want her to succeed, and Muir pulls the wool over our eyes effectively with her evocative descriptions of the chapel and prayer, then she lays it on extra thick with the mystery of the Emperor's summons.

We don't notice that Crux is escorting Glaurica and Ortus TO the shuttle, we don't notice that Harrow intentionally blocks Gideon from leaving the sanctuary with her skeletons to delay. And that she indulges Gideon's taunting, all to buy enough time for Ortus and Glaurica to take Gideon's shuttle.

We are just as devastated as Gideon when Harrow reveals the game. Reveals that through dumb luck, Gideon's plot was revealed. Without the summons Gideon would have gotten off free and clear. But she doesn't, and that realization hits those of us who know what happens at the end of this book even harder.

A brief word on the Reverend Daughter:

Like everyone else who reads this chapter, the first time I read it I instantly doubted what Harrow said at the end of the book. I instantly went online and talked to my friends who were also reading it and said, "People who hate each other don't put this much effort into it." And they all agreed.

Poor little lady Harrowhark, she can't let go of her griddle can she? All her life she's had to give, all her life she's been neglected and put on a pedestal that alienates her from most people.

Except Griddle. Who doesn't give a shit about any of that. Griddle, the thing she possesses that she doesn't want to give up. She jealously covets Gideon with a fervor beyond any other faith she demonstrates in the series. We also know that this is true given the pool scene later and the REST OF THE FUCKING SERIES.

I imagine a lot of the detail around Harrow's feelings towards Gideon were added in the polishing step of Muir's writing because this is so good. Despite our limited viewpoint in this book, in retrospect Harrow's actions are consistent and clearly motivated.

She feels a very special way about griddle, and she drops the act the instant she realizes Gideon is in real danger at Canaan house. It's beautiful. It's peak fiction. It's so well thought out and well done.

Verdict

God, it's such a spectacularly constructed scene. It's exceedingly clever, and it pulls off what it needs to do perfectly. Muir's writing isn't always perfect in my opinion, but this chapter is an example of her at her very best.

A great chapter, my depression got slightly worse after reading the end of this chapter and that's a great thing.

So naturally, I had to keep reading. And so shall we next time!