#and it’s like I know he has a family so I know he can’t always drop everything for me nor would I ever expect that but just some matching of

[canideformed]

As an autistic camper, I’ve never understood the whole man vs. bear thing.

I see men in the woods… all the time. I also see women in the woods. Even though my family and I go camping in a park that has very remote areas, you still pass people every few days, and, at the edges of the park, multiple times a day.

I’ve encountered men so far away from civilisation that we have to bring satellite devices in case we need to call for help because there’s no data coverage. I pass them on the trail and wave. There’s literally nothing weird about it.

I’ve never encountered a bear in the woods, and I hope that luck continues.

A bear in the woods is always a dangerous situation. But, to be honest, a man in the woods almost always isn’t. I mean, to some extent, it depends on context. If I was bushwhacking by my camp, off the trail, with no other camps nearby, and spotted this weird dude half-hiding behind a tree and staring at me… yeah, I would lose my shit. But I’d also lose my shit if it was a woman!

I’ve always felt like maybe I was taking it too literally? Hence why I specified that I’m an autistic camper. But it’s difficult for me to imagine a likely scenario where I’d realistically be scared more scared of a guy I saw in the woods than I would be of a fucking bear.

I feel like people (who’ve never actually spent a lot of time in the woods) are picturing a shadowy figure standing off in the distance and then a bear sniffing around in the brush. And yeah, one of those scenarios is more creepy. But it’s not because it’s a man vs. a bear—it’s because it’s a man standing weirdly in the woods for a reason you can’t understand vs. a bear happily living in its natural environment where you expect it to be. The man isn’t creepier because he’s a man, he’s creepier because humans are afraid of things we can’t understand and a dude acting strangely in the woods is harder to understand than a bear that we know is supposed to be there. So your brain fills in the gaps with fear. But just because one scenario you picture makes you more creeped out than another doesn’t actually mean it’s more dangerous and it doesn’t actually imply anything about real-life scenarios; especially if you’ve never even spent any significant time in the type of environment you’re picturing.

I think we should call out women's misogyny more often. My mom was the most misogynistic person I had ever encountered growing up. At herself, at other people. like she's better now, but woman left me some deep scars.

[smallfisheyes]

one suggestive paragraph hehe.

nanami kento who just doesn’t love you.

he tries. really. you are so easy to love, but he just can’t seem to love you more than admiration; more than the god-awful belittling role of a friend.

you are kind. he has seen you pick children from rubble. you had single-handedly halted an impeding panic attack that consumed the fushiguro boy. you pay out of pocket so that the children can do normal student activities: arts and crafts, team building activities, classroom and party decorations. he’s watched you be the most beautiful human that he has had the privilege of watching, defending innocents with, laughing with, but for some reason, he just can’t love you.

nanami kento who makes you cry because he says he loves you. trust him, he loves you so much, but as a friend. you had confessed your love for him. he broke your heart.

it was in the parking lot of your favourite post-mission meeting spot: the convenience store. (it’s family-owned, kento had said to you on your first visit as he gently took you by the elbow. it was his retreat. it would be yours too. you cradled the side of your face, your one eye badly bruised and rapidly swelling. you’ll like it here, he insisted. i promise).

the son was at cash that dark morning. kento would get the egg sandwich and coffee, you a banana milk and noodles.

“i’m on a mission to try every flavour,” you had declared one night, feet kicking and humming into your first dinner.

you had shrimp-flavoured noodles that fateful early morning. it was around 2:00 a.m., two second-grade curses with paired techniques. the following day, nanami turned down the offer of a sushi lunch with shoko. he wouldn’t be able to stand seeing shrimp tempura.

nanami kento who understands why you can no longer look him in the eye when you pass each other in the halls. you walk a tempo faster, a cold wind whisked up from your sudden distance and speed. it stings as you pass by. it stings when you rush to exit the staff room when he enters. he only dares to watch you when your back is turned and retreating far, far away from him. something under his sternum aches. he misses you. don’t you know?

it’s so hard to avoid him. he’s so big and he’s everywhere. he’s at work, he’s in the staff office, he’s in your mind. curses, he’s always in your mind.

before, fleeting images of nanami passed by. his small smiles. the big ones you managed to pull because “your humour is so childish,” so ridiculously stupid, but so stupid it makes him laugh anyway. the rumble of his voice that soothes you to sleep, especially the hard nights.

there are also the nights that you cannot sleep, and your hand sneaks below the covers, then the hem of your pants, and thoughts of him doing less than innocent things to you. it floods your mind, and suddenly, you can’t sleep. the only solution is to keep going until you’re tired. yes, that’s reasonable. besides, how could you not, not when he looked like that.

“what’s with you?” nanami would ask the next morning, then the morning after that, then every morning. it took you about half an hour some mornings (then most) to look him in the eye, your hands trembling around the mug he handed you. did he do something wrong? did he make you uncomfortable? should he back off? (or get back on?). stop thinking like that.

so, why can’t you seem to hate him?

you have seen him pick children from rubble. you have watched nanami perform four black flashes in succession during the black parade when it mattered most: students injured left and right. he pays out of pocket for lunches: yours and the students, with an exception of gojo. (he has a black card, kento ranted into his black coffee. he doesn’t need charity, just an ego check). you’ve watched him be the most beautiful human that you’ve had the privilege of watching, fighting with, laughing with, but for some reason, you love him and he just can’t love you.

if he does not love you, you fear who he does love. would she have long hair? short? curly hair? straight? does she have an excellent taste in fashion? is it more refined or street fashion? lolita or office-type? does she stand taller than you? is she funnier? does she have a million degrees and you’re out on the field doing the exact job nanami despises and fears? is she skinnier? prettier? the woman he would love (loves?) would just be better. he deserves better.

you cannot blame nanami kento for not loving you.

unknowing to him though, he does.

nanami kento stands at the till at the (your) convenience store.

“where’s your buddy?” it’s the son today, the one in desperate need of a haircut. he looks to be in his twenties. he scans nanami’s items: egg sandwich, transparent bandaids, a single carton of banana milk.

“by buddy, if you mean my partner, she is not with me,” nanami notes.

buddy. nanami wants to scoff. what an odd way of describing you.

“sorry, man.” the boy holds his hands out in apology. “didn’t realize you guys were together.”

there is a brief shock that pulls at nanami’s eyes. they widen, his mouth narrowing. together. why was that a less odd way of describing you?

nanami doesn’t notice his chest rising and falling rapidly. “she is my partner at work,” he corrects. he speaks in a murmur, eyes downcast. he studies the yellow carton on the till counter. banana milk. he didn’t even like it that much. a childish drink; childish humour. so full of energy but only experienced by a select special few. (why did you think he’s so special?)

“hmm,” the boy hums. “thought you guys were together. she seemed super into you. she looked at you like,” the boy shrugs his shoulders nonchantly, pressing buttons on the till screen, “like you meant a lot.”

nanami’s stomach sinks. he has to be the worst.

the convenience store bell tolls when nanami exits, paper bag in hand. the coolness of the night hits him. from this far out, he can see the speckle of the stars.

partner, nanami muses. the name suits you. it suits you and him: a pairing. together, as friends.

but not for long.

sorry guys but does anyone else wonder what would happen if nanami didn’t love you? and you love him? i do it all the time lol. if i feel it y’all have to feel it >:)

also it’s 2:00 am here please excuse the thought vomit.

[biancadoes1]

this could be proven wrong, but I’m just going to say this ….

If JD was with Nic at that bday, he would have made a story of it.

If that bday was a group dinner, there would have been a story from everyone there especially JD.

Nic and JD did not spend NYE with one another. That is a holiday I would think couples spend together. Even if Nic had a work event, JD would have been there bc that is his pattern. There were not together.

JD has not instinct to be a gentleman to Nic. He is a friend but his first reaction is not to protect or wait for like a partner would - The WT premiere was telling on his part.

Nic went somewhere on vacay after Christmas- tan lines. And she does not tan easily so she was really relaxing. Plus, Nic did not post during those days. Even when hanging with JD , she always post. She Never relaxes- something about those days had her in a state of ease.

Luke liked and commented on her SAG nom. The man has not commented on her post since June or July. And he was met with love.

not all her friends commented or posted for her bday. It is usually your pals that will not see you that will post on your bday. A little tribute bc I can’t be with you. She was with JD for the premiere to celebrate the movie for him and her other friends. But so far, it does not appear she was with him on her bday. Another special night in her life.

Luke is missing!! He did not post her her bday- bc he does not have too. He sees her all the time. He buys her gifts. She loves that camera and I’m sure he bought her something.

luke is a grown man. He does not need attention as much as trolls so desperately want to believe for him.

that Bday is intimate. Dinner for two. Could it be Luke- yes, could be another man- maybe. But at this moment, not JD. Again, he would have let you know.

luke loves pasta. The man loves pasta. It’s seems like an intimate place that’s quiet and cute. Nic is down to earth, this seems like something she would love.

Luke doing a year end photo dump. The man has never done that- to my knowledge or I have read he hasn’t. Some could say, well he was the lead, but he was on bridgerton before this and no year end dump. To me, to me- it seems like he did this as a welcoming to the family of Nic’s friends group.

is Luke in the glassware- not sure on that. That seems far fetched but I’m not going to tell someone they are wrong. That’s not my place.

at a certain point, people have to stop thinking she is with JD bc he is everywhere. People thought this about me and my guy friend. We love each other deeply, but not attracted to one other. Stop thinking bc Jd is there, that is her man. When JD does not do any of the things a boyfriend does. Smile, laugh or any affection. Calling her sweet one is not a clue for romantic love. It’s a term of endearment. In fact, no man, in a relationship would probably use that phrase for his gf or wife. It’s oddly stated.

could I be wrong, yes, but just analyzing clues and keeping the delulu out - things do make sense. Still being rational points more in the direction that she is not with JD.

I love an organized anon who critically thinks.

[amuromi]

★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 6.2k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! baby fever!gojo, breeding kink, unprotected sex, established relationship, pet names (mama, baby), oral (f!receiving), talks of having kids and starting a family, ooc!gojo

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ The sequel is here! I felt like I couldn’t continue the storyline without at least mentioning the complications of someone like Gojo having a kid. It’s inevitable that they’re going to have a high level of cursed energy, so I wanted to explore the idea of sorcerers trying to live outside of jujutsu society constraints while also still having to adhere to them.

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

The heat is on because it’s mid-winter and it’s finally gotten cold enough to snow, but somewhere in Gojo’s sprawling apartment a window is open. Not wide enough to cause a terrible draft–not that Gojo cares because he can afford to open all the windows while the heat is blasting at full tilt–but just enough to let in the smell of the crisp air outside. Gojo admittedly isn’t overly in tune with his sense of smell, all things considered. His strength is in his eyes so he’s never bothered to mull over the things that aren’t associated with his sight. He can’t exactly see the scent of frost and he can only smell it as well as any other person, but the window is open because he knows you like the smell of light snowfall. 

His staring problem comes with the territory, but, in the comfort of his own home, Gojo can’t really be faulted for looking too hard at any one thing. Especially not when his eyes are locked on his pretty girlfriend laid up on his couch. You’re curled up like a kitten in a nest, tucked into another one of his shirts and bundled beneath the giant fleece he bought because you’re always catching a random chill. It probably has something to do with low iron levels and leaving the window open in the winter. He briefly considers buying supplements but the thought is lost as soon as it forms when his eyes catch on the distracting length of your leg peeking out of the fuzzy blanket. It’s a wide expanse of bare skin that belies a lack of pants or at least anything beyond another pair of those damningly short shorts you love to wear around the house. There’s the fleeting thought that your aversion to longer pants might also be a contributing factor to your constant chill but he isn’t about to mention it. You’ve never had any qualms about going against things he says, but it’ll be just his luck that you actually decide to start wearing pants around the house and then where would he be? 

Infinity makes his footsteps imperceptible, especially with the adage of the downy carpet. There isn’t even a twitch of your lashes as he crouches in front of you, staring at your face half buried in the blanket before he reaches out to touch your leg. There’s no need for him to have his Infinity up in the house, but it’s habitual at this point, as easy as breathing. It’s the dropping it that always gives him pause. After going so many hours, day after day, never truly touching anything, it always feels like he’s relaxing a tense muscle when his barrier comes down. Not necessarily painful but palpable. The same way you can always smell when a storm is coming, Gojo can feel when his Infinity dissipates even though it’s intangible by nature. And once it’s gone he can feel everything. Hot or cold, the temperature never really matters because he’s always in his little bubble of body heat, but now he can feel the artificial rush of the vents pumping out waves of warm air and the slightest chill from the open window. 

Goosebumps rise over your skin as he traces his finger up the length of your leg. The jut of your ankle, the slope of your calf and the curve of your knee to settle over the softness of your thigh. You’re warm in a way that’s different from the blasting heat. Soft and comforting and Gojo tries not to dwell on what that might mean for his constant lack of physical contact. He drops his Infinity on occasion. Especially to interact with you or his students that are doing nothing but feeding into his desire for fatherhood, but it’s still few and far between. More often than not, Gojo is locked inside the untouchable barrier of his cursed technique. It’s not exactly loneliness that he’s feeling but some type of longing that makes him settle next to the couch so he can lay his cheek against your leg and just feel. His Six Eyes still tries to tell him things, outlining the shape of your body buried elusively beneath the blankets in a silhouette of cursed energy, but he closes his mind to it as best he can.  

It’s always been something unspoken between you; your level of cursed energy. You ended up a bit like Nanami, a bit like Suguru, turning your back on jujutsu for your own reasons. He’s never forced you to come back, never really even asked why you left because he doesn’t exactly care. All Gojo needs to know is that you’re happier with your life as it is, living as a non-sorcerer. He can’t really wrap his head around your love of working retail when it’s such a mixed bag of benign and volatile customers, annoying bosses, and ridiculous hours from what you tell him. But it’s leagues safer than fieldwork and Gojo isn’t about to be the one to coax you back into active duty. He barely tolerates when the higher ups call you in to do menial managerial tasks when the school is shorthanded. 

Their excuse for still keeping you on the payroll even after all these years always boils down to something about death being the only way a sorcerer ever really leaves the business. As if jujutsu society is some kind of yakuza holding members hostage. The people in charge act like sorcery is an inescapable cult and Gojo will be glad when he’s done tearing them down from the inside out. And as if you can sense him working himself up even in your sleep, Gojo watches your lashes pinch and flutter before a hand comes slinking out of your fuzzy cocoon to settle on his head. Your eyes are still closed but the momentary tension leaves your brow as soon as your fingers skim over his hair. No Infinity, only comfort. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” It’s always so instinctual the way you reach out to him. You always have an innate ability to tell when he’s falling and needs catching. Even just the sound of your voice, low and thickened with sleep, is enough to banish any worries from his mind. At least for the moment. 

“Nothing,” he says just to hear you mumble back “it’s something,” like you always do when he lies about what’s on his mind. It isn’t a matter of trust because Gojo trusts you with his life. He just doesn’t want to plague you with all the things he’s mulling over. It’s really only important to him. You’ve already declared your disinterest in sorcery, he’s not about to force you to listen to him formulating a plan to reform jujutsu society. And besides, he can’t have you worrying because it isn’t good to worry when you’re pregnant. Something about stress not being good for the baby. Sure, you aren’t pregnant yet, but he can see it coming in the near future. 

It’s not like he’s worn you down, you’ve always been way too steadfast to be bending to anyone’s whims. It’s more so just that it’s time. That ever constant “soon” looming closer and closer on the horizon. 

“Quit your job,” Gojo says, sounding every bit like a petulant child. Finally, your eyes open. Just barely, only enough to give him a hazily unimpressed look. 

“I know that’s not what you were thinking about.” He knows you know, but he also knows you won’t press him on it. Even when you were an active sorcerer, there were just some things you didn’t want to know about for plausible deniability’s sake. No need to get your hands dirty, especially now that you’re not even active anymore. Gojo’s strong enough to take on the consequences of his actions, strong enough to keep you safe from the fallout of his decisions. And anyway, he’s far more concerned with his personal life at the moment. What he does at work becomes virtually irrelevant the second he’s alone with you. 

“It’s what I’m thinking about now!” He’s whining because it’s really all he has on his mind now. The idea of coming home from a long day of work and being greeted by the pattering of little feet as your babies rush to meet him at the door. He imagines them all chubby cheeked and starry eyed, pushing to be the first one he hugs when he gets home. He’s annoyingly fixated on the thought and thumps his forehead against your thigh, knocking against you over and over until you’re fisting your fingers in his hair to keep him still. 

“You’re annoying.” You mean it but he can hear the endearment in your voice. And just to really get on your nerves, Gojo starts pouting. 

“I’m lonely.” It’s true in a way he doesn’t want to admit. Never mind the fact that he has his cheek pressed against your leg, arms wrapped tight around your thigh. There’s always been that nagging sense of loneliness. The looming feeling that something is missing. Children or something else, Gojo doesn’t know. But he does know that he wants babies. Your babies. Preferably sometime in the very near future if you’ll let him. 

“Lonely? Then what am I?” He feels you flex your leg as if to remind him that there’s no space for loneliness between his skin and yours. But there’s a hint of something in your voice, that heaviness of unspoken acknowledgment. You’ve known him for so long, been together for so many years. Some things don’t need to be said for you to know. It’s innate, intrinsic. And he loves you for it. You’re everything to him, but what he decides to say is,

“The mother of my children.” There’s desperation in his voice but Gojo doesn’t care to be embarrassed. He’s been stuck on this for most of your relationship and he isn’t about to get flustered asking for what he wants for the umpteenth time. You haven’t shamed him the first thousand times he’s asked so he isn’t expecting to get teased on attempted one thousand and one. 

“I’m not pregnant yet.” Gojo perks up. That’s new. The two of you have had this conversation in some variation at least once a week for months now and Gojo has grown used to all the answers you usually give him. It’s always something like “not yet,” or “let’s wait a little while longer.” And he does wait, but he’s also woefully impatient. Gojo knows you’re not pregnant and that’s the torture of it all. You’ve already said you’ll have his children. Kissed his forehead and reminded him that not now doesn’t mean not even whenever he gets particularly sulky after being told to be patient. It’s always just a matter of when but he’s eager for when to be now. And something about your answer makes him look at you with wide eyes. 

I’m not pregnant yet. It’s teasingly open-ended, like you’re taunting him with the knowledge that you’re not pregnant but you could be. But Gojo knows you wouldn’t tease him like that. Not about this. He’s always been a tad bit overzealous in his pursuit of babies but that’s because he wants it so bad, and he knows you wouldn’t be cruel enough to taunt him with it. He trails a hand up your thigh, dipping beneath the blanket as he maps out the curve of your hip. A shiver runs through your body as his fingers dip under the hem of your shorts. 

“Not pregnant… yet?” It’s hopeful. A question lingering in his tone. Is it time? Will today be the day? You smile, going back to petting his head, and that’s all the answer he needs. “You looking to change that, mama?” 

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask again,” you tease. “Thought you kept track of my ovulation window.” You’ve been waiting? Gojo’s heart stutters in his chest. All he had to do was ask. It’s always been that way really. He’s been begging you for so long because he knew it was just a matter of asking when, but after so long of being told to wait a while it seems almost too good to be true hearing you say you’re ready now. 

“You better be serious.” He knows you are because you know how desperate he’s been for it, but he can’t help but want to hear you say it again. Hear you ask in so many words. He’s always begging and pleading and Gojo wants to hear you want it just as plainly as he does. 

“Don’t make me beg, Satoru.” It isn’t what he wants to hear but he scoops you and your blanket into his arms even still. He’s got all the time in the world to hear you ask for it and he’s not about to delay it any longer just because you want to play coy. He can see it in the way you’re biting at your lips trying to hide a smile, feel it in the way your arms wind around his neck. There’s a slight tremor to your hand as you run your fingertips up the column of his neck. He can almost hear the way your heartbeat has spiked, blood swelling with desire as he lays you down in his bed. It’ll be your bed soon because there’s no way he’s about to spend even a second more than necessary away from you. He’s been begging to get rid of your apartment for almost as long as he’s been wanting a baby, and Gojo is looking to have it all in one fell swoop. 

“Gonna have to move in with me, mama,” he reminds you. Marriage is a more amorphous thought. Really it’s just a piece of paper that will serve to complicate your lives. He’s the head of a clan and his wife will have certain expectations imposed upon her that he doesn’t want to wrestle with right now. Maybe later, when he’s made things better. But for now he’s happy just having you. You don’t have to be a Gojo just yet because you’re his regardless. You’re in his bed, wearing his clothes, wanting to have his baby. Gojo can’t put a bigger mark on you than that but he’ll sure as hell try as his mouth latches onto the sensitive skin of your neck. You make that same gasping sound you always do, a little shiver running through your body as your hands find his hair again. Your grip is tighter than before, pulling at the roots as he digs his teeth into your delicate skin. Usually he’d be more careful about where he’s putting his little love bites but he can’t bring himself to care right now, and you don’t seem to mind. 

“You gonna ask for it, mama? I’m not gonna give it to you if you don’t ask for it properly.” As much as he’s been begging for it, Gojo won’t settle for anything less than hearing you tell him exactly what you want from him. All he’s been hearing is you telling him to wait, so he’s not giving you anything without explicit permission. Of course you take your time with that, too, and Gojo is more than happy to indulge you. It’s like running a marathon and finally seeing the finish line so close within reach. He can count the steps, the breaths, the heartbeats it will take until he crosses the line and finally, finally gets what he wants. It’s what you want too, or else you wouldn’t have said anything. It’s easy to provoke him when it comes to this and he hasn’t heard exactly what he wants yet, but he’s still keen to get you out of your clothes. And for all your smirking silence, you let him. Lifting your hips and arching your back as he strips you out of your clothes. 

For a moment, all he can do is savor the sight. His girl laid out on his bed, so close to asking for his child. You squeak when his nose presses into the space between your breasts, skin cold without his Infinity to regulate his temperature but he’ll be warm soon enough. Already he’s soaking in the heat pouring off your skin. You’re that fuzzy sort of warm that comes with the first waves of wakefulness, eyes still half-lidded and skin nearly feverish as he rubs his cheek against your bare chest. You smell nice. A perfect balance between his scent and your own, mingled together in a heady fragrance that has his tongue drawing wet streaks across your skin. He shivers as you thumb at the nape of his neck, brushing over the cropped hair at the back of his head because you can’t get enough of the feeling. Gojo is almost certain he’ll be just as insistent with touching your stomach when you start to show. 

He can already imagine how you’ll look. Only a few months pregnant, belly just starting to show. In his shirts you’d look the same as you always do. They hang so big off your frame that no one would be able to tell what was growing beneath it. But he’d know. And when you got bigger the whole world would know. Belly round and breasts heavy, whole body changing to accommodate the little life you made together. Gojo already can’t stay off you and he imagines your first pregnancy will shatter what little is left of his restraint. 

“You’ll tell me what I wanna hear, right, mama?” He murmurs against your stomach. He kisses around your naval, moving lower to dig his fingers into the thickness of your hips. You return the favor, running a hand through his hair until your grip tightens, pulling his eyes towards you. It sends a stinging twinge of pleasure down his spine, scalp prickling beneath your rough treatment as he stares up at you. He realizes you’re holding so tight because you need something to ground you. He can feel the way you’re squirming beneath his weight, hips shifting awkwardly as he pins you down with his bright blue gaze. Gojo has always been so open about wanting to start a family yet you can hardly articulate the words to ask him. It’s what you both want, but after so long saying no he can imagine how hard it is to fix your lips to say yes. It’ll be hard to collar him again once you let him off the leash. 

“Satoru,” he nearly melts at the sound of his name on your tongue. The way you say it with such sweet reverence. He can hear the affection in every syllable. “I want it.” It isn’t some heartfelt confession but it’s just as sincere, and Gojo hasn’t exactly been asking for it in the most romantic terms. You aren’t begging yet but it’s a start. A slow one compared to how feverish he’s been in his desire to get you pregnant but it’s enough for the moment. He can hear threads popping with how quickly he works to get your clothes off. It’s his shirt anyway and he has the money to buy you as many new sets of underwear that you want for nearly ripping your panties in half as he yanks them down your thighs. The poor lace is mangled as you kick it off your ankle but he doesn’t hear you complaining. In fact, you’re giggling. Laughing and smiling so pretty as he kisses your knee. 

“What’s so funny, baby?” He asks. You poke him square in the forehead as he looks up at you. 

“You are.” You’re still laughing. “You’re like a damn puppy.” It’s not the first time you’ve called him that but it makes him smile every time. He presses his grinning lips against your skin and smiles wider when you call him a weirdo as he licks the inside of your thigh. 

“Don’t complain now. In a few minutes you’re gonna want my tongue all over you.” His tone is joking but he watches the word land. The way you go quiet, nipping at your lip to hide your smile behind a shy pout. He can feel your thigh flexing as he rests his head against your leg, squirming at just the thought of him touching you. Gojo has regained some of his control, reigning in his eagerness so he doesn’t get overzealous. The last thing he’d want is to hurt you. He wants the conception of his first baby–all his babies–to be perfect. Even if it’s him that’s asking for it, it’s not really about him. It’s about you. Your body. You’re the one that’s going to be going through the woes of pregnancy, so the least Gojo can do is make the prelude feel good. He kisses your leg again, sinking his face into the soft skin, absolutely melting as he frames himself between your thighs.

There’s an ease to the way his arms hook behind your knees, pulling you down the bed until you’re flush against his face. The sound you make when his nose nudges at your clit has his head going hazy, empty to anything that isn’t you. Sleep still clings around the edges as you moan his name, a low hum that’s steeped in fading fatigue. He can feel your body rising to full consciousness, finally catching up with your mind as your legs shift along the curve of his shoulders. 

You’re still so warm, that sleepy heat lingering as your thighs close around his head the moment he wraps his lips around your clit. He’s only got his lips on you for a second and you’re already squirming, half trying to run away from his mouth. Gojo laughs, the sound rolling off his tongue to tease at your clit. You whine, pushing at his head even as your thighs pull him closer. He whines when you scramble far enough to get away from his mouth, glassy eyes staring up at you like you just slapped him across the face. There’s tears sparkling in your eyes as you look down at him, brows furrowed and lips caught between your teeth. Gojo leans in again, real slow like you won’t notice if he moves at a steady pace. You whimper and start squirming again the second his lips brush against your skin. He tries to be gentle, kissing over the swollen hood of your clit as his tongue parts your sticky lips. A faint, whimpered “wait!” falls from your lips and Gojo pulls away, forcing back a groan, trying not to look at the way your pussy is drooling on his sheets. 

He presses a kiss over the curve of your mound, doing anything to distract himself from thinking about where he really wants his mouth to be. The mess of your arousal is drying sticky on his lips, leaving glossy little prints as he kisses across your stomach. 

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.” His voice is breathless, muffled against your chest as he crawls up your body. You’re still trying to pull him closer and push him away, thighs locked around his waist even as you knot a fist in his hair to pull him away from your pert little nipples. 

“Fucking tease,” he mumbles against your collarbone, void of any true malice. It would almost be amusing if he wasn’t nearly vibrating out of his skin with the strength it’s taking to restrain himself. 

He can’t help but grind against you when you pull him into a kiss. It’s a heated mess of tongue and teeth, barely passing for affection. It’s desperation on the cusp of frenzied aggression as he grinds against you, cursing at the barrier of fabric between you. You’re already clawing at his shirt and there’s no mistaking the sound as Gojo shreds the fabric to be closer to you. His pants are a bit harder to contend with, made infinitely more difficult with the way you’re all but fucking him through the fabric, legs locked so tight that he can barely inch his hand between you to shove the last piece of distance between you out of the way. He knows the moment you register his skin against yours. You’re babbling, close to tears as you whimper his name. It’s a broken mantra that sounds so sweet on your lips. He only gets his pants down to his knees before you’re shoving his hand out of the way. He nearly misses the determined mumble of “make it fit,” too focused on the way your hand feels wrapped around his dick. 

It snaps him back to focus for a second. Long enough to worry about you hurting yourself without his fingers to stretch you open first. But all thoughts melt from his mind the moment you guide his dick between your thighs. He can feel the last threads of his self control unwinding bit by bit as you clumsily guide him where you want him. It’s a messy drag up and down your slit before he catches against your entrance. He can feel how eager you are, clenching at his head as he grips at your hips to keep you still. 

“Just the tip,” he stutters even as you groan out your despair. “Be patient, baby, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” He still has the taste of you on the back of his tongue, that orgasm that you ruined for yourself. He can feel the way you’re still trying to pull him in closer, heels digging into the small of his back to no avail. Gojo is stronger than you. The strongest ever. And even when he’s on the cusp of coming–pitiful when he’s barely inside you–he can keep himself from giving into temptation if it means keeping you from harm. Even if you want it now, you’ll be cursing and whining about how sore you are later and he wants this to be a good memory. It’s messy and fast but he can still practically see the hearts in your eyes when he looks down at you. Then you smile and he knows he’s a goner. 

“I’m gonna come,” Gojo says without a shred of embarrassment. He’s long past that as he feels your pussy suck at the tip of his cock. He doesn’t go any deeper, still feeding you shallow thrusts as he goes over the edge. It’s a disappointment to watch the steaks of white spilling out of you when he pulls back, sticky threads still clinging between you. 

“Gotta keep it inside, mama,” he murmurs, already cleaning up the mess with his fingers. Your hand is on his shoulder the second he curls his fingers inside you. Pushing and pulling as your nails scratch across his skin. Only you can ever leave marks on him, only you can ever touch him like this. He gets drunk off the thought, balancing himself on his forearm as he presses his forehead against yours. Your face is wet, smeared with tears and spit and sweat. You look dewy in the lowlight, eyes glittering up at him. It’s muscle memory getting you to the edge. He knows just where to press, just how deep you need it. It’s so second nature that Gojo nearly forgets he’s got his fingers inside you until you shove your hand between your bodies, rubbing desperately at your neglected clit until your back is arching, pressing your chest against his. He can feel your heart fluttering behind your breasts as your nipples skim over his bare skin. 

When you finally sag against the sheets, coming down from the high, your hand slinks over his shoulder until you’re cupping his cheek. Gojo leans into the touch like it’s the last thing he’ll ever feel. 

“It’s time, Satoru,” you say, voice soft and breathless. “Let’s have a baby.” 

The sound he makes sounds pitifully desperate even to his own ears but Gojo can’t bring himself to stifle his voice. He only gets louder when he’s inside you again. An orgasm has you loosened enough to take him now, pulling him in with three deep strokes.

“Just like that, mama,” he murmurs. You’re less erratic now, far calmer after coming once already. “Not running now, are you?” You have the nerve to look bashful, looking away as he rubs his hands down your sides. It’s easy to guide you now, to get you to follow his rhythm as he bottoms out inside you with each thrust. There’s something so enamored about your eyes as you stare up at him. Dazed and half-lidded, full of adoration as you catch his arm where he’s holding your hips. The adoration that floods through him the moment he feels your thumb brushing against his wrist is enough to nearly choke him. Fuck, he wants to marry you. Wants you to be his in every way possible. But there’s still a thousand things he needs to do first. Things to make the world better for you and your baby. His eyes fall to your stomach, vision almost doubling from how hard he’s staring at your tummy. There’ll be a baby in there soon. His baby. Gojo feels himself getting close at the thought. 

“Eyes on me, baby.” It’s a sound like music as you call his attention back to your face. Something you only say when his eyes are closed. He was lost in his dreams of the future. Of babies with his name and your face. 

“I’m here,” he assures you, panting the words against your parted lips in a messy imitation of a kiss. Words are spilled in a slurred litany between soaked mouths with no clear distinction between either whining voice. The sentiment is the same no matter which one of you is saying it. I love you, I love you, I love you. 

“What do you want?” Gojo feels himself murmuring. It’s a hushed mumbling that comes as the end of a long drawl of your name, so low that the syllables come out as graveled sounds against the edge of your ear. Still, you answer to the barest hint of his voice, back bowing off the bed like you’re drawn towards him like a flower to the sun. His arm fills the space, wrapping around your waist. He can feel the way you shiver on the cusp of falling over the edge, can hear it in your voice as you babble your answer of, “you, you, you, just you!” 

“My babies?” He can’t help but goad and tease even though he’s so deep inside you that there’s no question of what you want from him. Still, you answer. Clawing at his shoulders as you do. 

“Yes, Satoru! Your babies, only yours!” It lights something deep and possessive in his chest as he reaches a hand down to rub the shape of his name on your clit. It’s the best he can offer with no ring, no wedding. Writing his name on your skin, pressing his mark into every corner of your body until he can do it the right way. 

“My babies. My girl.” He sets his teeth against the skin of your throat, tasting the sweat as the sound of your voice vibrates across his tongue. There’s no mistake of what you want when you come. Your legs lock tight around him like he’d try to run from the way you’re milking his cock. Squeeze tight like you never want him to leave. He squeezes you tighter in turn, fingers pressed tight against the shivering column of your spine. He spells his name there too, tracing each muscle as they move under his fingertips. He feels your hands in his hair again, scratching at the back of his head. It’s a feeling he’s come to associate with comfort–with you–and it’s enough to throw him headlong over the edge. 

When he tosses his head back, cursing towards the ceiling, your hand is still there to catch him. Brushing against the nape of his neck as your nose tucks up under his chin. He feels your lips wet and hot against the place his pulse is racing in his throat, and knows you can feel each whining pant of your name as it falls from his lips. It’s the only word he knows as his stomach flexes, ropes of come spilling inside you. So much that it starts to leak out in a dribbling mess. Gojo is quick to pull you up, struggling to his knees so he can keep his come where it needs to be. He’s still pulsing inside you, achy from the sensitivity as your walls squeeze around him. You start squirming as the high fades, wiggling in his hold and mumbling about “put me down.” 

Gojo hikes one of your legs higher, pressing a kiss to your ankle. “Can’t, mama. Gotta keep it in or it won’t stick.” 

He placates you with another orgasm, thumbing at your clit until you’re whining and shivering. He can feel the dull pulses as it washes over you, clenching his dick as he softens inside you. You’re so warm that it feels like he’s melting but Gojo can’t suffer the thought of pulling out just yet. But he does finally let you down. He follows you as you sprawl across the rumpled bedding, resting his head against your chest. He nuzzles against your breast until you snap at him to quit it when he sneaks a nipple into his mouth. He pulls away with a pout, kissing across your chest because he can still feel the way your heart is hammering behind your ribs. Your skin is hot beneath his lips and tacky with sweat but he can feel the goosebumps starting to rise with each kiss. 

A car honks outside. The sound carries from down the hall where, somewhere in the apartment, a window is still open. A draft blows in through the half-open bedroom door. He’s not cold yet, but he can feel the shivers starting as you cling to him, soaking up the warmth of his body. He lets you pull him in, reveling in the closeness. 

“Puppy,” you mumble affectionately as he nuzzles closer. You press kisses to his eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, the corner of his mouth. Places only you can touch. Even without his Infinity, people act like Gojo’s face–his eyes–are something beyond human. Sometimes he feels like something divine and untouchable but then your lips press softly against his eyelids and he’s suddenly just a man. A desperate, possessive man. He catches your mouth against his, licking at the seam of your lips until they part to let him taste your tongue against his. When he’s done he takes the liberty of licking a bead of sweat from your temple and you push him away, whining about him being gross. 

“S’not gross,” he pouts. “I love you.” He says it like an explanation. Like everything he does can trace back to the fact that he can’t breathe if he goes without touching you for too long. Tasting your sweat is one of the tamer things he’s done to prove his love. Sometimes Gojo wonders if you forget that he’d burn the world down for you. Then he remembers that he’s already doing it. For you, for your baby. For himself. His hand squeezes between your bodies to press against your stomach. Soon, he smiles at the thought. Now. 

“You should eat something, baby.” He hears you talking, hears the concern in that soft, satisfied tone, but you’re stroking his hair like you’d rather he fall asleep against your chest. 

“C’mon,” you say when he doesn’t move, patting where your nails left scratches across his shoulders. “I’ll make you food and then we can go again later.” Gojo chokes on his breath with how fast he’s trying to get his words out. “Calm down, baby, I know it takes more than once to make a baby.” 

Gojo watches you grab his shirt off the floor–the one he just took off, not the one you’d been wearing all day–tucking your nose into the collar as you waddle to the bathroom with your knees hugged tight to keep the mess he made from dripping on the carpet. Fuck, he wants to marry you. The look you give him when you come out of the en-suite, eyeing the way he’s tenting the sheets just thinking about his come spilling out of you does little to make him feel ashamed. He waits long enough for his body to calm down before he’s pulling on a pair of shorts and joining you in the kitchen. You’re bouncing around in front of the stove, making eggs even though it’s late in the evening. Gojo crosses his legs and tries not to imagine that you’re making breakfast before school, waiting for your oldest to finish getting dressed as you bounce your youngest on your hip. 

“You want pancakes?” He must nod because you start making batter. 

“You gotta move in with me,” Gojo reminds you, eyes watching the way your–his!–shirt hikes up every time you lift your arms too high, conspicuously checking for a peek of what’s hidden just beneath the black fabric. 

“My lease is up in like two weeks.” And just like with your teasing not pregnant yet, Gojo knows he has you. For good. Happiness suddenly smells like freshly fallen snow and maple syrup. 

[gpcwsl]

Hey! Could you maybe write something for Lia Wälti where r has a reputation as a fuckboy/womanizer since they have quite a few one-night stands that never lead to anything more. They always get teased by the team for that. R and Lia are close friends and always very close physically: cuddling on the couch, sleeping in the same bed during sleepovers, Lia sitting on r's lap etc. One night they are watching a movie or smth on the couch and Lia straight up asks r why they have never tried anything with her. R tells her it is because they don't want her to leave, and then explains that basically all anyone ever wanted from them was sex, and no one stuck around after they had that, that's why now r just sticks to casual hook-ups if anyone approches them, and never actually initiates that stuff first. And they don't care about some stranger leaving in the morning, but they do like Lia a lot, and her leaving would really hurt, so they never acted on their feelings. And then a fluffy confession from Lia's side? Sorry this is really long, you absolutly don't have to do it if you're not comfortable with it!

Warnings: swearing, short, suggestive, mentions of sex (brief) mentions of fuck-boy, mentions of one night stands, kissing, making out.

Lia Wälti x Reader

You’re Different, and I don’t know why.

MasterList

Relationship’s aren’t your thing. You think they are underrated, love is underrated. You were taught that way while growing up. Sure, maybe the reason why is because you never knew your dad since he left the minute your mum got pregnant - ever since then your mother had taught you to never fall in love. So you took that advise. Never been in a relationship before, but definitely slept with half the girls in your hometown.

You always did a really good job with trying to not let those one night stands get in the way of football. Ending things with the girl as soon as the sunrise starts to shine awake. Cutting off any excess to phone number, instagram, ext.

Two years ago, you left your hometown. With getting a bigger contact with a new team who has been pushing for you for some time now - Arsenal. You decided to step up your game. Even win more trophies. Leaving was easy. You had no relationship with any family member, then not fearing enough to even say goodbye either.

But, ever since joining Arsenal things have been different. Different as in, not that many one night stand - and that’s because of a girl. A girl. Breaking a promise to your mother, you seem to be drawn into this woman. You so badly wanted to push her away, but you can’t seem to have the courage to. Which was weird. You always had courage to do anything. You never felt any sort of guilt of even thinking of doing anything like that.

She was driving you crazing.

Right now, it’s after training. Everyone is all gathered in the changing rooms. Getting into their own clothes they walked in this morning. You sitting down in the bench, tying your lases on your trainers.

Kyra, with the same old smirk on her face, sits down next to you, nudging your shoulder. “Y/l/n, you been with cute ladies lately?”

You roll your eyes, now knowing everyone is now focused on you. “No.”

Kyra raises an eyebrow, looking around the room before speaking. “Really? Cause if I remember what miss McCabe said to me the other day was - on your first day with the team you tried to get with everyone.”

You look up, immediately making eye contact with Katie who immediately moves behind her girlfriend. “I didn’t say tha-“

You roll my eyes again, before shrugging my shoulders. “Okay, sure but I didn’t try to get with them. Just flirted before I didn’t anymore.”

“That’s true, she hasn’t flirted with us ever since then.” Leah confirms, nodding her head.

“Why did you stop?” Kyra asks. Your eyes shifted to Lia, who was looking at you, smiling softly knowing the answer. “No reason.”

You then stand up from the bench. “Now, if you excuse me, I’m going home. Why don’t you nag to Alessia to who she kissed at last nights party.”

“What?!” - “For fuck sake, Y/n/n!”

With all the attention to Alessia. You look for Lia who is still looking at me. You nod my head for her to follow me. She easily sneaks past everyone who is still pestering Alessia.

As soon as you walk out the door; when you see Lia, you quickly grab her arm pulling her into a storage room. She lets out a yelp as you push her in. You quickly shut the door, locking it.

You turn around to see Lia smiling widely at you. Her hands on her hips. “Seriously? This is so high-school relationship material. Sneaking into the storage room?”

You shrug, smiling at her. “Can’t help myself. Haven’t kissed you for hours.” You mumble, taking only a small step forward to wrap your hands around her waist.

“Is that so?” Lia whispered, immediately wrapping her arms around your neck. “Well, we should do something about that, hey?”

You nod your head, pulling her closer to kiss her. The kiss was soft. Very different to other kisses you had with other girls.

You smile into the kiss - again, different to other girls that you never smiled while kissing before.

Lia change your life straight away.

First day at Arsenal. Kyra was right. You flirted with everyone - but as soon as your eyes founded Lia’s body you stopped. All your attention was on her and her only.

Lia pull away from the kiss. “Let me ask you something.” She says, looking up at you. - You nod your head, hands rubbing against her hips.

“Why haven’t you tried anything with me?”

You burrow your eyebrows, looking at her. “What you mean?”

“Like you were at your hometown. You choked up with every girl you found hot - and obviously you found me hot but, you didn’t try anything. You didn’t even flirt with me like you did with the others.” Lia rambled, her eyes staying in yours the whole time.

“Dunno. You’re different, and I don’t know why. I definitely thought about it but then hated myself. I could never do that to you.” You answered honestly.

“But, I’m not. I promise.” You state, holding her hands. Lia smiles, rubbing her thumb along your hand. “I know. I can tell how much you care about me. Just wanted to know.”

Lia then pulls you back into a kiss. You instantly kiss back, again smiling. “Let’s go home… I got something planned.” Lia mumbles, smirking.

“Oh yeah?” You mumble back, pulling away to see her smirk, smirking back. “What?”

“It’s a surprise.” Lia whispers, unlocking the door and pulling it open. Once the cost was clear she grabs your hand, pulling you with her to the exit.

You never been more grateful that you left your hometown to London.

[otomegamesforlife]

ALSO CALEB, WHEN JOTTING REMINDERS DOWN IN HIS NOTEBOOK: "Help her with her homework. Do not do it for her no matter how cute or pouty she is." - from the prompt above. This reminded me of a memory I had from high school. Studying for Baby Calculus. (Read below the cut if you're interested)

Note: Kuya is an honorific for older young males, whether blood-related or not. It’s just a polite way of addressing them.

I have an eldest male cousin who is an engineer now. This happened back when he was in university, and I was in high school. I braved and asked him to help me prepare for my baby calculus finals. (Don’t ask me what math it was; I don’t remember, aside from what he called it ‘baby cal’)

We were in his room, him prone on the bed and me on the floor as I used the bed as a desk. I stared at the paper we’d been using to solve the problem. The numbers then started blurring as my vision got glassy.

Nothing was making sense despite his patience in teaching me. My thoughts are already on how his tone shifts the words he uses to teach me and how he grips the pen, which might indicate impatience. I knew I was already overanalyzing everything. In my head, his patience was already thinned. 

My eldest cousin is extremely good at math; he wouldn’t have pursued engineering and become a scholar if he hadn’t. I didn’t want to bother him too much, but I had a certain average I needed to maintain, or else I’d lose my scholarship. My Aunt discovered it from my parents and suggested I ask my older cousin for help.

“Did you get that?”

I was almost in tears as he asked that. I already felt like losing my scholarship was worth it to go home and not see his disappointment. You know, I adored my Older Cousin and looked up to him. He always says I’m pretty smart, and I liked that title. Now, that image will crumble.

“Hey”

I bobbed my head in response, not looking at him in the eyes, fearing he might see me cry and think I was being a crybaby.

“Alright, Then answer this,” he said, writing a practice problem and sliding it to me. I saw it and knew I was doomed. 

“I’m sorry, Kuya! I didn’t get any of that. Please explain it one more time,” I cried, looking up with what I hope reflects a fierce determination. Hoping he’d give teaching me one more chance.

He paused as if discerning my sincerity; after all, we’d been studying for 3 hours. My Aunt even brought us fruits in the middle of the study session.

“Be kinder to your cousin!” She huffs and glares at him.

“I can be kind as I can be, Ma, but if she doesn’t get it, she’ll fail.” He shrugs, not even scared by the killer glare my Aunt is giving him.

That hurt. It was true, but I can’t learn anything if I’m too afraid of him being disappointed. 

The next thing I knew, he sat up from his prone position on the bed and sighed, “You can’t just act cute and expect this to work.”

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are, pouting and all,” he said, rolling his eyes in disbelief. “I can’t really go and take your exam for you like how I answered your homework, you know.”

“Thank you for helping me with my homework last time, Kuya.”

He smiled ever so kindly and ruffled my hair, “I can’t let my almost sister fail now, could I?”

My chin trembled as he remembered how I refused to leave my Aunt’s home for my parents. You see, my Aunt has 3 sons and never had a daughter. I loved visiting and being the younger sister as I am the oldest of my family. I can rely on my older cousin to be the knight in shining armour and spoil me. I can pretend to be part of the family every summer.

He sighed and then took back the notebook and began writing again. This time, with a more straightforward problem. “Here, Let’s start again.”

I ended up barely passing my finals. Thank God I kept my scholarship. He made me treat him to lunch. That man just ordered and obliterated a whole week’s allowance. 

Caleb: Did you honestly think I'd always be the kind-hearted boy from your childhood?

Also Caleb, when you're hurt: Sometimes I wish you'd let me be your shield.

ALSO Caleb, when you ask to blow on his boo-boo to make him feel better: Yeah, one little blow and the pain will just fly away.

ALSO also Caleb, when making lanterns for you: It's different from buildin' models, but both are fun. No one knows you better than I do. :)

ALSO CALEB, WHEN JOTTING REMINDERS DOWN IN HIS NOTEBOOK: "Help her with her homework. Do not do it for her no matter how cute or pouty she is."

ALSO. ALSO. CALEB: If I'm not home to eat with her, I'll video call her and eat with her then.

Conclusion: YES YOU'RE THE SAME FUCKING DORK YOU WERE SINCE CHILDHOOD, STOP TRYING BEING EDGY YOU PRICK. YOU FOOLED EVERYONE FOR LIKE FIVE FUCKING SECONDS AND THEN YOU SAY THIS SHIT.

[rafeysbangs]

lachesism , rafe cameron ( series )

pairing ; brother's!bsf!rafe x kook!female!reader

content ; mdni !! outerbanks au, eventual smut, angst, violence, underage drinking, family issues, substance abuse, s/a.

summary ; rafe cameron is everything you can’t stand; reckless, infuriating, and too self-assured for his own good. as your brother’s best friend, he’s always been a constant presence, one you’ve done your best to ignore. but the tension between you has always simmered just beneath the surface, sharp and impossible to ignore. you’ve spent years resisting his pull, refusing to give him the satisfaction. but in a world where lines blur and control slips away, you’re forced to face the truth: rafe cameron isn’t so easy to hate after all.

status ; ongoing .ᐟ

✺ navigation ; 001. 002. 003.

ONE ; i'm there, you're there, everybody's there.

THE DREADED MIDSUMMERS.

you always hated the annual celebration. to you, it's a maddening mix of triviality and discomfort, a tradition that felt more like a chore than a festivity. sure, there were fleeting moments of fun, but they were rare, overshadowed by the unbearable awkwardness that always seemed to define the event for you.

every year, you found yourself trapped in the same suffocating routine; forced smiles, polite small talk, and the endless chatter of people pretending they cared about each other more than they actually did. it wasn't that you hated people, well not all of them, but the sheer superficiality of it all made your skin crawl. and yet, despite your disdain, you still show up. but only at your parent's request, year after year, like clockwork. 

this year was no different, though you had to admit it wasn't entirely terrible. you stood at the drinks bar with your best friend, cora, both of you stifling laughter as you subtly chucked back glasses of champagne. cora had a knack for making the unbearable tolerable, reason being why she's your best friend. only friend. the way she mimicked the exaggerated niceties of the other guests and never faltered from your side not only at kook events but also any other day of the week proved her to be the only person worth hanging out with. 

but even as you enjoy messing around with cora, your gaze kept drifting across the grass to your older brother, carter, and his best friend, rafe. the two of them were already several drinks in, their loud obnoxious laughter carrying over the murmurs of polite conversation. rafe, in particular, was teetering dangerously close to the edge of decorum, gesturing wildly with a mostly-empty beer bottle as carter egged him on with his laughter. 

"they're going to embarrass themselves before the sun's even down," you scoffed, narrowing your eyes at the two of them. 

cora followed your gaze and snorted, "oh absolutely. rafe's probably one cocky remark away from falling face-first into a table." 

you rolled your eyes. "i wouldn't even stop him." 

"i know you secretly love seeing him make a fool out of himself."

"i really don't." you said, though your lips twitched at the thought of rafe actually toppling into the table of bucketed beers behind him. it wouldn't be the first time he'd turned a formal gathering into a spectacle. 

cora gave her a knowing smirk, "yeah, okay"

you took a long sip of her drink, still watching carter and rafe with growing annoyance. they were now talking far too loudly and swaying just enough to make their intoxication obvious. rafe had ditched his blazer and was gesturing animatedly, spilling a few drops of beer onto the grass as carter doubled over in laughter. 

"okay, this is officially getting out of hand," you pointed out, setting your empty glass down. 

cora raised an eyebrow, "what, worried your legendary football player brother is gonna make a fool of himself now? or just can't stand the sight of rafe being... well, rafe?" 

"both," you snapped, beginning to trudge over to them, your heels periodically sinking into the grass and dirt. "come on, let's get them inside before they draw anymore attention to themselves." 

cora followed along with a sigh, "fine, but if carter pukes on me, you're cleaning it up." 

you weaved through the mingling guests, your tipsiness making the task slightly more challenging that it should've been. unlike carter and rafe, though, you hadn't had enough to make yourselves look like idiots, and you could hold your own. when you reached the boys, you immediately folded your arms in front of them. 

you grabbed a beer bottle out of carter's hand and set it down with a loud clink, "both of you, inside. now." 

rafe raised an eyebrow, his smirk lazy and insolent. "excuse me? who made you the party police?"

"you've been drunk for an hour, and the sun's not even set yet," you snapped, turning to carter. "and you're letting him make an ass of himself, and by extension, yourself. you two need water, get inside." 

carter sighed, "okay okay fine. cmon rafe."

you didn't wait for the taller boy to agree, spinning on your heel and marching toward the country club doors. carter followed, muttering something under his breath while rafe trailed behind, his stifling a laugh sending a fresh wave of irritation through you. 

once inside, the quiet of the club was a welcome relief from the chaotic hum of the event. you turned on your heel, arms crossed, as the boys finally stopped in front of you.

"you're unbelievable," Rafe scoffed, his voice dripping with mockery. "dragging us in here like we're children who need a time-out. you just love playing the hero, don't you?"

you narrowed your eyes. "and you just love being a reckless asshole who can't handle midsummers without turning it into a scene. you do this every time rafe, aren't you tired of being a fuckup?"

"woow," rafe said, his smirk widening. "you really are as uptight as you look."

"oh, i'm sorry. did i interrupt your drunken performance? please, go back out there and embarrass yourself in front of everyone. i'm sure ward would love that."

before Rafe could retort, carter stepped between you two, raising his hands in surrender. "okay, enough. del, we'll cool it. no more drinking for a while, all right?"

you shot rafe one last glare before nodding. "good.." rafe turned away and chuckled darkly.

you ignored him, turning on your heel. cora, who had followed silently up until now, rolled her eyes at the boys with a grin.

as the two of you then stepped into the cool evening air, you exhaled sharply.

"well, that was fun," cora said, her voice light with amusement. "you and rafe really know how to liven up a room."

you rolled her eyes. "he's insufferable."

"and you're so not affected by it," cora teased, earning a glare.

you two rejoined the party, you were determined to salvage what was left of the night, even if rafe's smug grin lingered annoyingly in the back of her mind.

the crowd had thinned out hours ago, leaving only the stragglers and the hum of distant music. you sat on a worn wooden bench tucked away in the shadows, the cool night air nipping at your bare shoulders and open backed dress. your drink was empty, but you still held the glass in your lap, staring out at the faint glow over the remaining guests, though their laughter and chatter had dulled into a murmur. 

you exhaled slowly letting the faint buzz in your head settle as you leaned back, glossy eyes staring up at the twinkling stars. it was quiet, peaceful even, until a familiar voice broke through your disheveled thoughts. 

"wow, look at you. little miss perfect all alone. didn't think you'd let yourself get drunk enough to sit alone here sulking." 

you rolled her eyes, tilting your head to see rafe cameron stumbling toward you, a crooked grin on his face and an empty bottle dangling loosely from his fingers. his shirt was untucked, his tie was undone and his usually greasy bangs were messier than usual, falling over his eyes. 

"don't you have my brother to annoy?" you mumbled through gritted teeth, sitting up straighter. 

"not anymore," he said, slumping onto the bench beside you, far too close for comfort, not that he could notice that this was probably the closest in proximity you'd been in a long time. he smelled like whiskey and faintly of smoke, though you didn't remember anyone smoking at the party. "everyone's gone home. except you, apparently. what's wrong? finally too perfect for anyone else?" 

you rolled her eyes again. "you're drunk." 

"and you're not?" he gestured vaguely at your empty glass. "don't think i didn't see you sneaking more of those vodka sodas earlier." 

you sighed, turning to glare into his baby blues, "what do you want rafe." 

he looked away and shrugged, his grin softening slightly as he stared out at the glowing lights in the distance. "i dunno, a ride maybe? or maybe i jus' wanted to see if you're as miserable as you looked all night." 

"you're impossible," you said, standing up abruptly. "fine. where's ward and rose?" 

he blinked at you, his smirk faltering. "gone, they left a while ago."

you blinked at him, suddenly aware of how late it had gotten. the faint music from the dance floor was slower now, the kind that signalled the end of the night. most of the decorative lanterns had burned low, leaving along shadows stretching across the grass. 

"of course they're gone." you muttered, grabbing your keys from out of your clutch. "let's go. i'm not being the reason you stumble around here all night just to get detained for trespassing or something equally stupid." 

rafe grinned lazily as he pushed himself to his feet. "always the hero."

"always the idiot." you shot back sternly, marching toward the parking lot with him trailing behind you.

the drive to tannyhill was wordless, other than for the low hum of the engine and rafe's occasional muttered remarks, which you ignored by turning on some low music. when you pulled up to the sprawling estate, you didn't bother to say anything, simply unlocking the doors and waiting.

rafe gave you a drunk, crooked smile as he climbed out, leaning down slightly to peer at her through the open window. "you're not as boring as you think you are, you know."

"go to bed, rafe," you said flatly, ignoring the slight heat rising to your cheeks.

he laughed, a low, rumbling sound, before stumbling up the path to the front door. you waited just long enough to see him disappear inside before driving off.

the trip back to your house was dark and mostly quiet, the empty streets a stark contrast to the earlier chaos of the party. as you gripped the steering wheel, your mind wandered back to rafe.

you hated him. you reminded herself of that firmly, repeating the thought like a mantra. you hated his smug grin, his reckless behaviour, the way he seemed to get away with everything. he was destructive, cold, and violent when he wanted to be, the kind of person who left chaos in his wake.

and yet, you couldn't shake the thought of him sitting beside you on that bench, quieter than usual, something almost vulnerable lurking beneath his usual bravado. it was infuriating. the way he intrigued you, despite everything you knew about him, everything you disliked about him, made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

by the time you pulled into the driveway, you'd convinced yourself it didn't matter. rafe cameron was a mess, a storm you had no intention of stepping into. you hated him. you had to. anything else would be far too dangerous.

the house was dark and silent when you slipped inside, the huge wooden front door creaking softly as you closed it behind you. you kicked off your shoes in the entryway, your heels clattering against the tile, and winced. with careful steps, you crept through the dimply lit hall and up the stairs, grateful your parents were likely fast asleep.

your room was as you'd left it, a little messy from getting ready but mostly untouched, with soft orange light from her salt-lamp spilling across the room. you flicked on another lamp on your dresser, letting out a long breath as you began unzipping your dress. the fabric pooled at your feet, and you exchanged it for a worn, oversized t-shirt before heading to the bathroom to wash your face. 

as you brushed your teeth, your thoughts inevitably drifted back to rafe. he'd probably stumbled through the doors of tannyhill, loud and unapologetic, before collapsing onto some couch... or, if he made it that far, into his bed. you imagined him leaving his shoes kicked off in random corners, his tie flung somewhere on the floor, with no regard for the mess he made.

but then another image crept in, one you hadn't meant to summon. you thought of the times you'd caught ward speaking to rafe in clipped, cutting tones when he thought no one was paying attention. you remembered the hard set of ward's jaw, the way his voice was sharp enough to cut, even if you couldn't make out the words. and you remembered the way rafe would stand there, his usual bravado stripped away, his fists clenched at his sides like he was fighting the urge to hit something - or someone.

a faint pang of guilt surfaced as you rinsed her mouth and dried your hands. it wasn't as though rafe didn't deserve to get told off every now and then, he brought most of it on himself, after all. he was reckless and selfish, always chasing parties and cheap thrills, always pushing buttons and crossing lines. responsibility wasn't even in his vocabulary, and it was hard to pity someone who so often seemed to invite their own problems.

still, as you climbed into bed, the thought lingered. beneath all the arrogance and chaos, there was something deeply broken about rafe cameron. you didn't want to feel bad for him - not really. but sometimes, you couldn't help it.

you pulled the cover up over your shoulders and shut your eyes, determined to push the thought away. it didn't matter how ward talked to him or how messy his life might be. rafe had made his choices, and you were determined to keep hating him. anything less would be dangerous. anything more would be impossible.

or so you told herself, as your mind drifted and sleep slowly crept in.

notes ; THANK YOU FOR READINGG.. im so excited to post this. wattpad is so dead so this fic has just been sitting there rotting. anyway leave me feedback please !! ps i promise you're less of a pushover, this is just a one off to annoy rafe lol.

taglist ;  @rafegetinmybed @sqfewrd @dreamyy-cloud @vampteeth @wtfisastiles @flvredcas @plaidcowboy @sematarygirls @slut4you @kravitzwhore @daryldixon83 @lexavanhuelee @dorcas4meadowes @foolishangelic @i2rapunzel @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafestoothbrush ( feel free to ask to be added! idm! )

[call-me-casual]

I’ve been thinking about them so here’s a Scott Tracy [TAG edition] headcanon dump:

1. This is a bit of a retcon of an older headcanon, but Scott is 26 at the start of S1, just at the edge of turning 27, and 29 on the brink of turning 30 at the end of S3. I originally put him as 27, but I will die on the hill that Alan is 17 in S1 based on the uk driving age and I think I’ve seen somewhere that an old magazine or something said the age gap between Alan and Scott was 9 years?

2. Probably not going to be very popular but I headcanon that in the world of TAG, Scott was never in the military or GDF. No bereznik, no nothing. Instead his possible “militaristic” behaviour comes from Jeff’s training and Scott’s tendencies to copy his father.

3. Scott may have the colouring and significant facial features of his father, but actually has a good amount of his mother’s traits, such as his lanky build and personality. He loves his dad dearly and aspires to be like him, but also appreciates the little things his mother gave him that didn’t leave him a simple clone of his dad. He also inherited a few traits from his mother’s side in general.

4. Scott’s behaviour is often him attempting to act like Jeff for the sake of the others. It started as him trying to figure out how to lead, but there was also an underlying factor of him wanting things at home to stay as similar as they could. This is “Commander Scott”, whilst his real personality shines when he banters with his family, expresses his own interests and feels more comfortable.

5. Linking to headcanon 2 is what I like to call “The silver prince of Tracy Island”. Scott is a valuable asset, and people know this. Even before iR, organisations and militaries were scrambling to try and get hold of the firstborn of the legendary Colonel Jeff Tracy. They think that the kid who wants to be just like daddy will be easy to manipulate. But Scott always turned them down out of a desire to stay with his family and his incredibly pacifist nature. One of these organisations was the GDF, at the time run by a not so nice man. Not long before the Zero-X, they attempted to basically kidnap Scott and force him to serve, but were stopped by an irate Jeff who came in and saved him. This incident lead to the man in charge being investigated and replaced by Colonel Casey not long after Zero-X. (This is partly influenced by an old thread that I can’t find for the LIFE OF ME-)

His brothers know what happened, they know that there are people who want Scott Tracy for their own gain, and they are determined to protect him as he’s protected them. Sometimes, one might find a brother or two sitting vigil over their brother’s rare instances of sleep. His royal guard.

6. Scott’s pacifist nature comes from the fact that his earliest memories include the fresh Conflict of 2040. He became aware of the destruction through Jeff’s own experiences and hearing many, many news broadcasts and conversations. Scott may have been young, but he understood the gravity of what adults talked about following the conflict, when it was fresh in everyone’s minds. Whilst he doesn’t remember this, it was monumental in forming who he is today. He’s not a TOTAL pacifist (as seen when he attempts to punch evil Indiana Jones-), but he is determined to never take a life. He knows his father’s regrets, and promised to never repeat them.

7. Scott is stronger than he looks. Yes he’s light as a feather and could almost be called a twink, but he’s actually mostly lean muscle. iR promotes training for strength rather than show, so Scott isn’t very buff looking. He does however, lack a lot of body fat and can sometimes struggle to warm back up. His uniform is thickly woven and padded inside as a result, and on windy days at the island, Virgil will attempt to swaddle his big brother in blanket-thick towels post-swim.

8. Despite only stating “looking up at the night sky” (ouch) and “swimming” as his hobbies in that interview, Scott does have a few things he enjoys! Flying is obvious, but he also enjoys playing football (the REAL one, where you KICK the ball), hiking, model making and using burner accounts to wind up the bigots of 2060.

9. Scott has some variation of separation anxiety, even if he’ll never admit it. If a brother comes home after a close call or particularly long/dangerous mission, he’ll essentially wrap himself around them and refuse to let go. Because he’s mad at himself that he couldn’t protect them more, scared of what could have happened, and needs to assure himself that he hasn’t lost his baby brothers the way he lost his dad.

10. When there’s a particularly annoying or just frustrating board member at Tracy Industries, Scott will perform a series of secret pranks to get under their skin without any real consequences. The investors fear the coffee machine after it got filled with non-toxic washing up liquid found its way inside. He sits with Gordon to brainstorm new ideas.

11. If picked up from under the armpits or grabbed by the back of his shirt collar, Scott will go limp and one can perform the cat “temperament test” on him. Beware that this only occurs when there is a level of trust, otherwise expect resistance.

[brighteststarz]

HOT TAKE

Feel free to disagree with me, this is just my opinion..but hear me out till the end plz this is LONG

I’ve seen so much Jegulus hate since the rise of it.

I joined the marauders fandom literally the year Jegulus got popular so it was the first ship I saw and I connected to it. I started reading fanfics for it that were LIFE changingly good.

Yet when it was growing in popularity it was also gaining a lot of hate for not being canon or for being so random(which yeah, it was random. It started as a joke but who cares?? It’s amazing) since when has canon mattered to you guys?

Anyways with the rise of hate it’s like they knew they couldn’t hate on it just for it making James gay/bi because that would make them seem homophobic, so they brought Lily into it and HEARD ME OUT. Some people just can’t stand the idea of a character they want to see themselves with wanting someone who’s not like them and they relate to Lily so they don’t like regulus.

A lot of people bring up that Lily gets bashed in a lot of jegulus fics like saying it happens too much but that’s not completely true it’s not that common. A lot of “Lily bashing” tags aren’t attached to jegulus fics they’re attached to Jily fics or jeverus fics and prongsfoot yet the blame goes to ONLY jegulus fics bc yeah some do bash Lily I’m not denying that but it’s not that common. The tag is common, but not just in jegulus fics.

Misogyny is bad, yes. However this isn’t a Jegulus issue, it’s a whole marauders fandom issue they always avoid giving the girls characterisation or they make the girls seem like a roadblock for ships like wolfstar or jegulus, or drarry ANY ship.

The problem isn’t just Jegulus tho.

Which brings me to my next point. People say “jegulus fics sideline Lily” which… c’mon. If she’s not the main character that’s not a problem. Guess what, wolfstar fics also sideline Lily, they sideline James as well. Bc they aren’t the main character for that specific fic. Guess what? Jily fics also sideline wolfstar and regulus and Mary. Just because your fav character isn’t a main character in the fic doesn’t mean it’s bad or misogynistic or bashing. They’re just not the mains.

Also, almost every Jegulus edit I see or Jegulus related video I see has someone in the comments talking about “Lily💔” / “what about Lily” /“everyones forgetting Jily” / “I miss Jily” /

Which by the way, no one is stopping you from consuming Jily content or making it.

Whenever I see a Jily video, do you know what the comments are usually? Not about Jegulus that’s what. However occasionally the captions will say something against Jegulus like how they dislike it which is fair you don’t have to like it but what does that have to do with your edit?

Why do I see more Jegulus hate that Jily hate when all anyone ever talks about in this fandom is how toxic Jegulus shippers are and how we’re bashing Lily all the time. Every Jegulus fic I’ve ever read had Lily treated like a goddess which isn’t to say there are NO lily bashing fics I know they’re out there but they’re not a Jegulus problem.

Another thing I’d like to address is how some Jily shippers have told me before that since I like regulus I MUST be racist because regulus is racist in canon? First of all, he is a blood purist, at most he is probably incestous in canon not racist but the glory of fanfiction is you can take that away from his character and make him better. Blood purist has to do with keeping the bloodline pure, keeping magic alive and power, not race. I’m sure there were black pureblood families as well. Also, I’m black, so telling me that I must be racist for liking regulus is kinda… I’m not sure how the blood purist thing got translated into real world racism making ppl think I must be racist for relating to regulus, babes the thing I relate to is being the younger sibling left behind in a toxic household😳

Also, in the very end he sacrificed himself so that counts for something to me and I headcanon he didn’t share his parents beliefs or changed his mind. People act like regulus is so bad but none of the characters in marauders era are perfect. Sirius grew up the same way reg did. Sirius revealed Remus’s secret to Severus. James bullied Severus(even though I think that was more of a rivalry/mutual bullying)

Also for the people who say “Jegulus is just another version of Jeverus” I firmly believe it’s NOT for many different reasons but we are all entitled to our own opinions.

Jegulus: best friends brother trope, slight age gap(one year I think?), death eater/(whatever James was?), strict abusive family/perfect family, sunshine x grumpy, anti hero/hero, rivals to lovers/occasionaly enemies to lovers, quite and reserved slightly evil and highly mean character falls in love with the loud class clown, gay reg x bi James or sometimes ace/demi sexual reg x bisexual James, slytherin x griffindor AND MANY MORE REASONS BUT I CANT THINK OF THEM RN.

Jeverus: romantic rivals to lovers(competing for Lily), slytherin x griffindor, bully/victim?(idk I don’t read many jeverus fics), pureblood who doesn’t believe in blood supremacy x halfblood who’s also somehow a blood purist?

(There are big differences but because I don’t read jeverus I might not be the most qualified to talk about the differences but there are key ones if you take the time to actually read a good Jegulus fic before assuming)

Also people hating on Jegulus because it erases jily because Jily should be the main ship since it’s canon. I hate to remind you but you know Remus canonically married Sirius’s younger cousin yet yall don’t have a problem with wolfstar. If your issue with Jegulus is that it’s not canon, then I hope you also hate wolfstar and I hope you only read fanfics of Remus being straight since canonically he is and you care so much about canon 🌝

One last note, I’ve seen people say they HATE how people say drarry is Jegulus coded it should be that Jegulus is drarry coded because drarry came first… it’s not that deep. Timeline wise James and regulus are older, they were born first, however drarry was a ship before Jegulus was, but WHO CARES? why is this a reason to hate Jegulus? Just bc people say drarry is similar to Jegulus? They’re also mad that Jegulus stole ❤️💚 from drarry but why is that an issue? What’s the big deal? This part of the hate feels so unnecessary and forced plz find a better reason to hate this ship. The people saying that Jegulus is erasing Jily are more creative than the ones who are pissed off about two emojis representing different ships. Calm down.

Frankly I think the hate is fake and forced & some people think the only way Jegulus could work is if it’s hella toxic and leads to Jily because James could never choose regulus over his wife? Everyone has different opinions but don’t hate on others for liking Jegulus just because you don’t(this goes for any ethical ship in the fandom). If you don’t like it don’t read about it.

That’s all! If you took the time to read this full hot take thank you for hearing me out! I would be okay with having a peaceful debate in the comments if you disagree 🖤

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

Okay so I was thinking about canon Clegan where they’ve been sleeping together in secret for most of the time they’ve known each other and a lot of the other guys have probably caught on or at the very least suspect it but none of them say anything or even bring it up, probably not even to one another as to not disrespect their majors, who they all adore and admire and think the world of and have the highest upmost respect for. And the Buckies are always just so happy together and their happiness as a two-some does wonders boosting overall morale.

But then they get to the stalag and it becomes clear early on to everyone that something happened between the two since arriving there besides just the frustration of being stuck in the stalag. Something is wrong with their friendship or relationship or whatever they have going between them. From what they can decipher between the two of them who won’t tell them anything when asked or will just say there’s nothing wrong/everything’s fine or to stay out of it, they can tell that both of them seem to be pushing the other away. It seems like Gale is walking on eggshells around Bucky (they all are these days but for Gale of all people to do so as well is absurd), and like he almost seems guilty of something. Bucky seems to be acting like he’s been wronged in some way and his behavior is in retaliation of some sort, and also a desperate cry for attention from Gale. So they come to the conclusion that Gale broke off whatever was going on between them when they arrived at the stalag and Bucky is hurt and losing his mind over it. It’s clear his needs are not being met like they were pre-Stalag. Even if they aren’t correct on who broke it off or who is in the wrong, they know that it’s Gale who has to be the one to fix it and it NEEDS to be fixed SOON. They need their Buckies to be back to normal again. And so they designate one of them (idk who would be best), to go and talk to Gale in private to ask him to please fix whatever is going on between him and Bucky. And in the lamest terms possible they basically ask him to please fuck Bucky again so that they can all stop tiptoeing around him without getting their head snapped off. Basically “For the morale and overall wellness of the group we are please asking you to fuck Bucky again. Please. Do it for the war cause. It would be greatly appreciated🙏 We will even cover for you and keep everyone out of the bunks for an hour each day for you to take care of his needs. Please.”

This isn’t canon?! 😱🤣 Pre-coffee thoughts so bear with me as always lol

(CW: some SI mention but it’s canon, bit of choking)

The Buckies were like the heart of the 100th so whatever they do in their free time to be who they are? No one’s going to interrupt that, especially because the Buckies give them hope too. Hope that everything is going to be okay, hope that they’re gonna get home to their sweethearts and families, hope that love like that really does exist.

Cut to the stalag and we still have that emotional, love sick reunion, but afterwards they get into the nastiest of arguments. Brady and Crank told Gale about John’s erratic and callous behavior/talk before the mission and Gale confronts him.

Gale tears into him (because he’s scared) about how John can’t just off himself if Gale dies. That they both have too much to live for outside of each other even if they are the love of each other’s lives. He wants John to want to live for him to not want to die for him. What the hell was he thinking?

John hears that he’s not good enough.

He thought they were each other’s everything. What does Gale mean he wouldn’t die for John? That he would be okay if John died? He just doesn’t get it because he hasn’t had to sit and stay and twiddle his thumbs while John went and tried to burn himself in.

Gale hears that he’s not good enough.

They’re both completely missing the other’s point because they’re tired, hungry, scared, understimulated, in pain, you name it, but their message is the same. They love each other and they can’t bear the thought of the other dying.

On and on the argument goes in exhausting and unproductive circles until Gale shuts down and John’s just like, “guess that’s it.” They are now just Gale and John. No more of the Buckies.

It’s toxic and uncomfortable and everyone is basically ill with the bad vibes Gale and John are pumping out.

I think they would draw sticks or something to see who has to bring it up and Crank unfortunately draws the short stick. They know better than to approach John right now who seems one breath away from snapping at all times and so he dutifully trudges over to Gale in the library and gives his speech about “please fuck it out of him.”

Gale is trying so hard to keep his cool as Crank is talking about Gale’s sex life to his own face. But the fact that the men have spoken up means Gale is failing as a leader and so he stiffly approaches John in the barracks, with no intention to actually fuck him but to try and at least smooth things over.

Except the tension has been building for months at that point and the discussion turns into arguing turns into yelling and then it gets physical. No actual intent to hurt (think scissor sister stalag scene) they’re still stupidly in love, but they are knocking shit over, breaking stuff, and throwing out insults that they know will cut deep.

Somehow, maybe Gale trips over a knocked over stool, John gets the upper hand. He’s got Gale pinned to a wall, face against the splintering wood, hand around his throat, and pressed up against his back, and when he squeezes his hand around Gale’s throat in warning to just stand down, Gale moans.

It’s on from there.

John’s got a hand down Gale’s pants, he’s rutting against Gale’s ass and they’re kissing so sloppily spit is smearing down their chins and across their cheeks but they don’t care. They’re being so loud but it doesn’t matter because they feel like they don’t come they might actually die.

Gale keeps trying to goad John into fucking him but they have nothing to ease the way so he just keeps grinding against Gale until he’s just so fucking close and he finally agrees to just the tip. John presses the wet head of his cock into Gale and Gale is basically clawing up the wall because it’s not enough but he gets a hand around himself and he can hear John working himself and he tries to rock himself back on John’s cock but John’s got a firm grip on his hip and won’t let him.

Gale’s groaning about how it’s not enough and John’s nearly blind with pleasure fighting every instinct to not just sink into Gale dry. They start confessing all kinds of stuff. How much they’ve missed each other, how they didn’t mean any of the terrible shit they said, how they love each other, how scared they are…

It’s too much and John accidentally shoots off inside of Gale and it startles them both so much that he does actually slip halfway inside of Gale and Gale comes all over the wall. They collapse on the floor in a pile of limbs and when they catch their breath, Gale pulls John into his arms and they just lay there and bask in the afterglow.

It’s not perfect after that because they’re still POW’s. But they’re not infecting everyone with their angry broken hearts anymore so occassionally the men will orchestrate silly elaborate ways to give the Buckies alone time in the barracks.

So fun to wake up to ❤️

[maxdibert]

Imagine that both Sirius and Severus survive at the end of the series, and it also comes to light that Severus was a double agent all his life and everything he did. Do you think Sirius's view of him would have changed? Do you think they would have had a good relationship or at least a cordial one?

I want to preface this by saying that I don’t think we should focus on Sirius when considering whether the two of them could get along civilly, because Sirius’s perspective is not the one that matters—it’s Severus’s as the victim. Severus was the one who was mistreated, Severus was the one who was harassed and tormented by Sirius, so if the two of them were ever to have a relationship, even a merely cordial one, it would depend on Severus and whether he was willing to move on. And he has no obligation to move on. Victims do not have to forgive their abusers or get along with them or give them the satisfaction of feeling forgiven or free of guilt. That’s not something they are required to do because they don’t owe them anything.

But well, to answer the other questions…

When I’ve read some Snirius fics, this is often the trigger for Sirius to change his perspective—Sirius finding out that Severus is, in reality, breaking his back to save everyone. This realization makes him "see reason," but I’ve always felt that this oversimplifies Sirius Black’s personality. I see him as more complex, or at least I like to think he is. I think Sirius despised Severus not only because he wanted to fit into a world Sirius hated but also because of Sirius's aristocratic upbringing, which deeply influenced his disdain. Severus didn’t just want everything Sirius had rejected—he was also a poor, working-class, half-blood kid who didn’t belong to the world he aspired to. Severus did everything he could to climb socially, trying to earn a place in a social stratum that didn’t belong to him and that isn’t achieved through effort but through birthright. I think Sirius, in addition to resenting Severus for aspiring to what he despised, found him pathetic. He thought it was pitiful and pathetic for a nobody to want to reach the top of the social hierarchy, and he basically considered Severus a ridiculous, laughable loser. When it came to Severus, I think Sirius had two issues: on the one hand, Severus wanted what Sirius rejected, and on the other, he aspired to a world that wasn’t his. And I believe that Sirius, just as his family viewed Muggle-borns as "others," as depersonalized beings, as people whose humanity they stripped away to justify their disdain, did the same to Severus. Sirius reflected all the elitist and violent education he had received at home in his bullying of Severus.

If we look at their relationship during Order of the Phoenix, we can see that Sirius has been reduced to a burden, someone who serves no purpose to the Order beyond providing a headquarters. It’s obvious that the balance of power in their relationship has flipped. Severus is no longer the defenseless kid at a disadvantage, the one with "bad" ideas that served as an excuse to treat him as a punching bag, the one you could try to kill without facing consequences because Dumbledore didn’t care. Now Severus is an adult who has become an incredibly powerful wizard but, more importantly, an extremely efficient agent. So efficient, so useful, and so competent that he’s Dumbledore’s right-hand man and knows things no other member of the Order does. Severus is now a key player, and Sirius is basically a wreck—and he can’t stand it. He really can’t take it. This is clear in their confrontations. The only reason Sirius gets away with it is that Severus lowers himself to his level because of the immense trauma he carries; he can’t help but be triggered when his abuser says something to him. But if Severus weren’t so emotionally broken, he could have easily left Sirius crying in a corner.

If it were revealed that Severus was actually the linchpin in Dumbledore’s plan to defeat Voldemort while Sirius was still alive, and it was also known that he did it all for Lily, I think Sirius would not only question everything he thought about him but also feel a surge of rage and humiliation. Suddenly, the kid he used to hit and torment, the one he almost killed, the one he didn’t even consider a person, the one he gleefully mistreated because he told himself Severus deserved it, turned out to be someone far more efficient, competent, and useful than him. To top it off, Severus managed to deceive and manipulate half the wizarding world, sacrificed his life for the cause, let everyone believe he was the worst scum imaginable for the greater good, and ultimately helped Harry far more than Sirius ever did. That would truly eat Sirius alive. It would feel like a massive blow to his pride because Sirius Black, the rebel, but most importantly, a Black—someone destined for glory, someone who chose the right path from the beginning, someone who was always on the side of good, who spent years in prison unjustly, who always protected his friends—couldn’t manage to do even a tenth of what that jerk he bullied in school did.

Severus is like the prodigal son in the parable: the one who strays from the path and, when he returns, the father showers him with gifts and blessings for coming back. Sirius is the brother who reproaches the father, saying he’s always been there but the father seems happier about his ungrateful brother returning, and he doesn’t think that’s fair. I believe that would be Sirius’s initial reaction—without a doubt. I’m sure of it. I also think he’d try to influence Harry, telling him that Severus wasn’t that great. But Harry would shut him down, telling him to stop hating because he’s wrong, and that would frustrate Sirius even more.

Personally, I think that if Severus had survived, he would want nothing to do with the people connected to his miserable past, except perhaps McGonagall, with whom he’d likely remain in contact, and maybe the Malfoys, though I imagine his relationship with them would need years of healing due to the years he spent deceiving them. I don’t think he’d want much to do with Harry and his gang, and certainly not Sirius Black. However, if they had to be in the same room or ran into each other occasionally, I believe they would still dislike each other. Sirius wouldn’t be able to handle the frustration of Severus being the epitome of bravery and sacrifice, and Severus would never fully forgive Sirius. I think their first encounters would end in fights, but perhaps over the years—many years—this could evolve into what’s called a "friendly rivalry," in the sense that they’d never truly like each other but would develop a strange, dysfunctional kind of camaraderie due to knowing each other for so long. If they got to know each other better, they might transition from outright hatred to merely having a healthy rivalry. But there would always be that aura of a divorced couple who can’t stand each other.

[42ap]

In the amicable breakup 30s AU, Stan is definitely seeing other people. Spending his days a bit bored in the forest, Stan often drives into the city on weekends for dates. With not much else to do lately, he’s been really wanting to find someone to fall in love with. That’s why, in the first part of this AU, the three of them are chatting about exes.

Every time Stan laments how hard it is to find a good person, Stanford always glances at him briefly, but Stan stubbornly ignores it. What exactly happened on the breakup night has never been explicitly said because I haven’t figured it out yet, but suffice to say it was catastrophic, earth-shattering, absurdly cruel, and utterly over the top—not just some argument that ended with Stan being kicked out by their father.

By comparison, the semi-consensual, semi-coerced straight-guy-experiment-gone-wrong “gay sex scientific research conference” during their final days of high school in the Evil Twin AU looks like child’s play. Whatever happened on that breakup night was so extreme, it defied common sense, which is why it’s so hard to imagine the specifics of it.

That’s why, in this AU, Stanley occasionally takes on the job of cooking but makes sure to over-salt Stanford’s portions every time. And then, while Stanford eats without a single change in expression, Stanley just glares at him with pure resentment.

Fiddleford, completely oblivious, always tries really hard to get the brothers to reconcile. Fiddleford is such a genuinely kind person that Stanley doesn’t know how to refuse him, so he just endures the experience of watching Stanford smugly enjoy Fiddleford's long-winded talks about the importance of family harmony.

When Fiddleford unknowingly eats one of the overly salted meals meant for Stanford, he spends two minutes gagging and says, “Damn it, Stanley, your pranks are way too much!”

But after learning the truth, Fiddleford just nods while watching Stanford calmly eat his salty food. “Bro, good on you—eat it, you know you deserve it.”

Reflecting on that disastrous New Year’s dinner after their devastating breakup at 19, you can’t help but marvel at how, even after breaking up, this bone-crushing pair still manages to go home together for family meals. Of course, the first thing they do after arriving is get into a fight about where to sit in the living room, then argue over who has to sleep in the guest room. When their mom forces them into the kitchen to help cook, they bicker the entire time and even manage to fight while she’s turned away grabbing seasoning.

The endless insults, the attempts to prove in conversation that they’re the one who’s doing better in life—it’s all just deliciously angry young man energy 🤤. Though, based on previous settings, 19-year-old Stanford would absolutely have been avoiding Stanley at all costs, because Stanley might really show up silently with brass knuckles and stand by the bed: “Hey, bro, are you awake? I can’t sleep because every time I think about what you said during the breakup, I get pissed all over again.”

[cosyvelvetorchid]

For One Night Only.. Maybe chapter 4 is up!

Read on Ao3 or below

Enjoy!

🩶

Rating: G (for this chapter)

W/C: 3,852

Summary:

It's New Years eve and after talking with Maddie and Eddie Buck realises his feelings.

**********

“Uncle Buck!” Jee yelled excitedly, hurtling towards Buck the second he walked through the door. He opened his arms wide for her to jump into and picked her up. 

“My favourite girl! Did you have a good Christmas with Grandma and Grampa?” She gave a big nod in response. “Well that’s good to hear. Did Santa bring you lots of nice things?” 

“A pony!” 

“A pony?! I don’t think a point would fit in your room.” 

“Not a real pony, silly.” She giggled. She wiggled in his arms to get down and he put her back on the ground. She immediately ran towards her room. 

“Welcome back.” He greeted Maddie with a hug. 

“Thanks. Coffee?”

“Uh, sure.” He followed her into the kitchen. “So, come on, tell me the truth now that they can’t hear you on the phone—how was it?” 

“Surprisingly, calm.” 

“Really?” 

“Uh-huh. I mean they of course criticised Jee’s bedtime, what we fed her for breakfast, oh and my choice of Christmas sweater-“ she rolled her eyes. “But, all in all they were actually pretty well behaved.” 

“Did they, uh.. did they say anything about me?” He asked, expecting to hear the usual criticism. 

“Actually mom said she misses you.” Buck raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I know it surprised me too.”

“She misses me.” He said not quite believing it. 

“Yep.”

“Wow.” They looked at each both laughed at the absurdity of their mother actually admitting how she felt. 

“How were they with Chim?” 

“Dad actually started calling him Chimney, if you can believe that.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope.” Maddie shook her head “When they talked about you they called you Buck, too.”

“Took them long enough.” He scoffed. 

“I missed you there.” She said after a moment. 

“I know.” He looked at her. “I-I know they’re getting better and I’m glad, but.. I’m not ready to act all happy families with them yet.” 

“I understand.” She smiled. “How was Christmas at Tommy’s? I’m surprised you didn’t spend it with Bobby and Athena to be honest.”

“I was going to but Tommy was going to be alone most of the day. I get the feeling he doesn’t have anybody other than his aunt.”

“Has he not mentioned any friends?” 

Buck shook his head. “Not really. He talks about the people he works with, and he likes them, but they’re not close—not like the 118 are anyway.” 

“You’re always trying to save people.” She said. She wasn’t being accusatory, just stating a fact. 

“He doesn’t need saving, Maddie—I just hated the idea of him being on his own for Christmas. It’s the time you’re supposed to spend with people you care about.” He explained. “But it was nice. I cooked us dinner and we spent the day watching movies. Pretty chill.” 

Buck had kept his word and cooked them both a roast turkey with all the trimmings. Tommy had stubbornly refused to let him do all of the work so Buck had delegated the vegetable preparation to him. 

They’d stood side by side in Tommy’s kitchen in their respective aprons, singing along to Christmas music as they worked. Buck was surprised to find out that Tommy had a beautiful singing voice and had tried to convince him to come along to one of Chim’s karaoke nights. Tommy steadfastly refused but Buck hadn’t given up and was determined to convince him eventually. 

Tommy was the most relaxed Buck had seen him since they’d met. They’d laughed and joked, ate good food and drank good wine, and by the time Clara had arrived in the early evening they were a little tipsy. 

But they were aware enough to switch into boyfriend mode as soon as she walked in the door. 

Tommy moved from his previous position at the end of the sofa to the middle so he was closer to Buck. Their legs were against each others and Tommys arm was along the back of the sofa behind Bucks head. 

Every so often his arm would slip down across Bucks shoulder and each time Buck relaxed into him. Slowly bucks eyes got heavier and he fell asleep with his head on Tommys shoulder. 

Tommy gently woke him up some time later and ushered him upstairs to his bedroom. 

“You don’t have to stay here.” He’d said. “But with my aunt in the guest room, you’d either have to go home or sleep on the sofa.”

“That might look suspicious.” Buck had said. 

Tommy then changed in to pyjama pants and a T-shirt and Buck had opted to stay in the sweats he was wearing and they got into his bed. Buck laid on his back and Tommy on his side facing away from Buck. 

It was silent for a while until Tommy spoke. He reached behind himself until he found Bucks hand and held it gently. 

“Thank you, Evan.” He had whispered in the dark; his voice thick with sleepiness. 

“For what?”

“Best Christmas I’ve ever had.” He lightly squeezed Bucks hand before sleep quickly took over his consciousness and his hand loosened but didn’t fall out of Bucks. 

Buck had laid still; his hand still holding Tommy’s, listening to his soft breathing. It was pitch dark in the room so Buck hadn’t been able to see what Tommy looked like in his sleeping state but he couldn’t help picturing his face soft and relaxed. He sighed deeply trying to calm the flutter in his stomach at the image.

He thought about why this could be Tommys best Christmas. All they did was eat and drink and hang out—it wasn’t exactly a raging party. He thought about his own sad Christmas’s as a child and wondered if Tommy had experienced something similar. He knew that Tommy had loved with Clara for a while and that his dad was homophobic, but beyond that Buck knew nothing about Tommy’s childhood. 

Eventually he had drifted off into sleep still holding Tommys hand. 

“Uncle Buck, look!” 

Buck turned to see Jee dragging a giant stuffed pink pony, bigger than herself, across the floor. 

“Woah!” He cried out. “Santa really did he you a pony, huh?”

“You should have seen Chim carrying that through the airport.” Maddie laughed. 

“It’s probably bigger than him!” Buck joked. 

“Hey.” Maddie lightly chastised with a soft whack to his arm. 

Buck sat down on the floor and laid against the giant pink fluffy horse. Jee immediately jumped on top of him causing to let out an “oomf!”. She giggled as he bounced her up and down on his legs.

“Stop me if I’m being too intrusive but-“

“Since when has stopping you ever actually stopped you?” Buck said back to her. 

Maddie ignored his response. “Have you met someone?” 

Buck stilled from bouncing Jee. “What? No. What- w-why would you ask that?” 

“Just.. I don’t know, these last couple of months you’ve been- you’ve seemed more.. at ease. Little bit more settled, maybe.” 

She wasn’t wrong. He had been feeling like his life was becoming some more of what he wanted it to be. He loved his job—even on the bad days, he had his 118 family, Maddie and his niece whom he adored. His culinary skills had never been better thanks to Bobby and now he had Tommy in his life. 

This amazing firefighter pilot that he still couldn’t believe was his friend. 

Being around Tommy was easy. He never felt like he was in the way when he was around him; that his presence was wanted. They shared the same witty banter and playful insults, could read each others body language and when they had to pretend to be dating, they fell into it with such ease that there were moments when Buck had to remind himself that Tommy wasn’t actually his boyfriend. 

Buck loved Eddie. He loved Bobby and Hen and Chim and Karen and Athena. And they loved him, he knew that, he felt that. But they all had the tendency sometimes to treat him like a child. Or an over excited Labrador that needed a whack on the nose occasionally. 

Tommy never did that. Tommy let him be Evan. Tommy gave him a space to show every part of himself without fear of judgment or condescension. He accepted Evan flaws and all. 

For the first time in his life Buck was beginning to feel like Evan was enough. 

“I guess I am.” 

“What’s changed?” She asked. 

“I’ve just been feeling more myself self lately.” 

“Does this have anything to do with Tommy?” She had a knowing look that Buck wasn’t sure was about. 

“Uh, yeah. Kind of. We-we’ve become really good friends. I feel like.. like he really sees me, ya know?” 

Maddie looked at him for a beat and tilted her head. “Is that all?” 

“Wha-what else is there?” He asked. 

“I just- Look, you know I love you, right?”

“Yeah. I love you too, Maddie. And I love you the most!” He tickled Jee still sat in his lap on the floor. 

“And you know that no matter what I will always love you. And always accept you. Whoever you are.” She raised her eyebrows as though they somehow sent a message that Buck wasn’t getting. 

“Thank you..?” He said confused. 

“I’m just saying that you will always be my brother and however you feel about.. certain things.. I will always support you. No matter what. Don’t ever forget that.” 

“Are you talking about Tommy and I?” He asked and she nodded. “We’re just friends.” He told her. 

“Right, but if you were more than that, that would okay.” 

“A-actually there’s.. there’s something I should tell you.” 

“Oh really?” She said, smiling. 

“It’s not what you think.” He said. “Okay, it’s kind of what you think but not-“ He stopped himself and took a breath. “He and are in a kind of fake relationship.”

“Fake?” 

“We’re pretending to be in one so his aunt stops trying to set him up with men.” He explained.

“Buck.” She said in that admonishing tone. 

“It’s fine, okay. I don’t mind. And-and Clara is actually really cool for an old lady.” 

“So, you’re pretending to be together?” 

“Yes.”

“Okay. How does that work? What do you.. do?” She raised a curious eyebrow. 

“Nothing like that.” He waved his hand. “We just- we act like we normally do as friends, but also hold hands sometimes, put an arm around each other, sometimes kiss each other-“ Maddie's eyes opened wider “on the cheek.”

“Right.” She said looking skeptical. “Well, whatever he is to you, you do seem happier.” She smiled softly. 

“I am.”

*****

Somehow the 118 A shift had managed to also New Year’s Eve off this year and Bobby and Athena were going to hosting a party for everyone. Eddie and was flying back to attend and Tommy and Buck were driving to pick them up. 

“What’s your New Year’s resolution?” Buck asked as they drove along the freeway. 

“Do I look like the kind of guy that makes New Year’s resolutions?”

“No, but you don’t look like a guy who has the voice of an angel either.” 

Tommy scoffed. “Evan, I am not doing karaoke no matter how much you bug me about it.”

“I didn’t say anything!” He protested. 

“Uh-huh.” 

Buck laughed. “Seriously, you don’t believe in resolutions?” 

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume that you do?”

“I mean.. yeah. I feel like the new year is like a fresh start, ya know? A chance to look at where your life is and who you are and maybe chance some things.” 

“You don’t need a new year to do that—you can change any time you want.” Tommy countered. 

“I guess. But there’s something about a brand new year that feels good. It’s stupid I know.” 

“Hey, it’s not stupid. If it’s something you like to do then that’s okay. Just because it’s not my thing doesn’t mean it can’t be yours. Tell me—what are your New Year’s resolutions?”

Buck turned in the passenger seat to face Tommy a little. “I definitely want to be more disciplined in the gym.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s hard not to want to be when one of your best friends is built like a tank.” He reached out and gently squeezed Tommys upper arm. 

Did Tommy hear that right? Evan just referred to him as one of his best friends?

“Best friend?” He questioned. 

“Well, yeah.” He said earnestly.

Tommy felt mixed emotions at that. A part of him felt privileged that someone like Evan would see him that way. Truthfully—and perhaps pathetically—he’d never had a best friend before. It was entirely his own doing—he’d never let anybody get close enough to him to build that kind of bond with someone. But Evan was just so easy to know it was no wonder he burrowed himself into Tommys life so easily. 

But, there was a large part of him that felt disappointed. And sad. He knew that Evan was straight, but that didn’t stop Tommy from developing.. something towards him. But despite knowing Buck was straight there was that little delusional side of his brain that hoped that maybe he wasn’t entirely. 

It didn’t help that on numerous occasions he’d wondered if Evan was flirting with him. The way he looked at Tommy or playfully insulted him had him thinking that, although it was an incredibly small chance, maybe it meant something. 

But hearing Evan referring to him as a best friend put an end to those hopes. It wasn't like Evan was a consolation prize--he was a wonderful man to know. But it still stung to have it confirmed that he saw Tommy as nothing more than a friend. 

“Good.” He said smiling at his passenger. There was no doubt his hopes had been dashed, but he really was still grateful to have met Evan and have him in his life. 

Buck regretted calling Tommy one of his best friends as soon as the words came from his mouth. He wasn’t lying—he really did see Tommy as one of his best friends. But what he felt for Tommy was more than that. 

When they weren’t together he thought him constantly; always wondering what he was doing and counting down the hours or days until they saw each other next. He’d turn his head on the street when somebody walked past wearing the same cologne. Every time his phone would ping his heart would light up hoping it was a text from him. 

And there had been numerous times when they were alone he’d honestly thought Tommy was flirting with him. And every time he’d feel his stomach flutter and his skin flush with heat. As much as their romantic relationship was fake, he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if it were real. 

But Tommy seemed happy with the best friend designation, and Bucks hope of Tommy liking him were slashed. 

~

“Welcome back.” Buck greeted Eddie with a hug. 

“I didn’t realise you were bringing your boyfriend.” Eddie said hugging Tommy. 

“You told him?” Tommy asked Buck, surprised.

“I had to! If Clara came over and saw the two of you rolling around in your garage she might say something about me.” 

“There’s no rolling, Evan—it’s called sparing.”

“Thank you!” Eddie added. 

Buck rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“If you want I can spar with you sometime. I might even go easy on you.” Tommy said playfully nudging Buck with his elbow. 

“Hey, I don’t need you to go easy on me!” Buck protested. “I reckon I could take you.”

“Oh really?” 

“Is this what you guys are like around Clara?” Eddie asked. 

“What are you talking about?” Asked Buck. 

Eddie looked at them for a second before shaking his head. “Nothing. What time is Bobbys party?”

“Uh, 8 o’clock.” 

“Do we have to bring anything?” Eddie asked. 

“I’m bringing some beer.” Tommy answered. 

“And I’ve made a large batch of brownies.” Added Buck. 

“Are they the chocolate fudge ones?” Tommy asked. 

Buck nodded. “Yup.” 

“Remind me to hide a couple of those before everybody eats them.” 

“No need—there’s an extra batch in my fridge for you.” 

Tommy smiled warmly at the thoughtful gesture as Bucks phone pinged in his pocket. 

“It’s Bobby—he wants us to pick up a few things for him for the party.” 

“Alright. We can stop on the way back to Eddie’s.” Tommy suggested. 

~

The three of them walked into the grocery store and Tommy went off to pick up the wine he said he’d bring leaving Eddie and Buck to get the things Bobby needed. 

“So.” Eddie began as they walked along the meet aisle. “You and Tommy.”

“What about us?” Eddie simply raised his eyebrows at him. “What?” Buck repeated. 

“You said this relationship you were in was fake.” 

“It is.” 

“And the flirting?”

“What flirting?” Buck asked throwing a few packs of pork chops into the basket. 

“At the airport.” Eddie reminded him.

“What? That-that wasn’t flirting.” 

“Buck. I’ve seen you flirt. On the job and off—that was textbook flirtatious Buck.” 

Buck rolled his eyes. “Shut up. It was not.” 

It wasn’t intended to be at least. Was it possible to flirt without realising it? Historically, Buck was great at flirting. He knew how to use his words, his tone, his body language—every move he made was intentional. But that was with women. 

He’d never actively flirted with a man before. He liked Tommy, there was no doubt about that anymore, but Tommy thought of him a friend only. So why would Buck flirt with him?

Eddie knew what Buck looked like when he was having an internal debate and threw him a lifeline. 

“If you say you’re not flirting then you’re not flirting. But for the record, it wouldn’t change a thing between us.” He placed a hand on Bucks shoulder. “Okay?” 

Buck wasn’t ready to talk about his confusing, and clearly unreciprocated feelings yet, but he appreciated Eddie’s sentiment. 

“Thanks.”

“You guys got what you need?” Tommy came up from behind lugging a basket full of wine bottles. 

“Uh, yeah.” Buck replied. “We got everything.”

*****

By 10pm the party was in good spirits. Music was playing—at “an acceptable volume so people can have an actual conversation” as per Athena’s instruction, the dining table, formally covered in food, was half empty and everyone was dotted around the house in various conversations. 

Hen and Karen were in the kitchen with Athena, Chim and Tommy were reminiscing with Bobby about the 118, and Maddie and Eddie were playfully arguing over what music to play. 

Buck was leaning against the fireplace wall watching Tommy. He couldn’t help it. The way his mouth moved when he spoke, the little twitches in his eyebrows when reacting to something Bobby was saying and those beautiful creases around his eyes when he smiled. 

He was mesmerising. 

“Earth to Buck.” Eddie snapped his fingers in front of Bucks face. 

Buck shoved Eddie’s hand away. “What?” 

“Alright.” Eddie said. “Come with me.” 

“Where?

“Outside. Come on.” 

Buck glanced over at Tommy again who caught his eye and smiled before focusing back on what Chim was talking about. Eddie slid the glass door open and closed it again behind them. 

“What’s going on?” Buck asked. 

“You and Tommy.” 

“We’ve had this conversation, Eddie.” Buck moved to open the door again by Eddie stepped in front of him. 

“And this time you’re going to tell me the truth.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Buck, I can practically see the hearts floating around your head like a damn cartoon every time you look at the guy.” 

“I-“ Buck wanted to argue back that Eddie was wrong but what was the point? He gave in with a sigh, walking over to one of the day beds and sitting down. Eddie followed suit and sat across from him. 

“It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because he.. Were friends. He’s made it clear that’s all he sees me as.” He admitted. 

“But you want more?” 

“I dunno, I- We’re.. Yeah. I do.” He sipped from his beer bottle and picked at something imaginary on his jeans. 

He looked at Tommy through the window and sighed. He was grateful to be friends with him and if that’s all he could have of him, he’d gladly take it. But he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t sad that that’s all he could have of him. 

“I gotta say I didn’t think that this is where your interest would lie.” Eddie said. 

“What, Tommy?”

“No, I mean guys in general.” He clarified.

“I didn’t either. I love women—I’ve always loved women.”

“How long have you been leaning in the other direction?” 

“I haven’t. N-not specifically.” He said. “I mean, sure I’ll check out a hot guys ass but that’s normal.”

Eddie gave him a weird look before it shifted into recognition. “Oh my god!” 

“What?”

“When we were in Texas helping out the 126. There was something about the way you were talking to that guy. What was his name. Uh…”

“TK?”

“TK. Yes. The way you were talking to him. Looking back now you were totally flirting with him.” 

“I was not!” Buck protested. “And didn’t you say earlier that you know when I’m flirting?”

“Yeah, now—I didn’t know then as well as I do now. Now I can spot it a mile away.” He sipped his beer. “Trust me—you were flirting.”

Looking back, Buck did think that TK was good looking. He was exceedingly competent at his job and competency was always something that he found attractive in the women he liked. Between his skills as a firefighter, the love his team had for him and the fact that he was willing to fly into a forest fire to save somebody he loved, Buck had thought that he was jealous of TK. Maybe it was actually a crush. 

“I'm curious--what is it about Tommy?” Eddie asked. 

Buck again looked towards Tommy then back at Eddie. “He’s just so cool, and-and confident. He has a cleft.” He couldn’t help the corner of his mouth rising. “He’s calm to be around and when he makes fun of me it doesn’t make me feel bad. I feel good when I’m around him.” 

“But he doesn’t feel the same about you?” Eddie questioned. 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

“You don’t think so? Has he actually said he only thinks of you as a friend?” 

“I mean.. not technically, but-“

“Have you asked him?” Eddie interrupted. 

“No. And I’m not going to, before you ask.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because the chances of him liking me are slim and-and I’m not going to humiliate myself and ruin our friendship in the process.” He shook his head. “No. Trust me, it’s better that things stay as they are between us. As friends.”

“Look, Buck, I think that you-“

The glass door slid open and Tommy stood with his phone in his hand and a pained expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Buck immediately stood up. 

“That was the hospital. It’s Clara.”

“What happened? Is she okay?” 

“She.. she had a heart attack.”

**********

[leona-hawthorne]

lorenzo berkshire: how a relationship would be with my favorite male manipulator <3

(@mattnott this came out of the chat we had the other day LMAO ily zoya)

on the surface, lorenzo berkshire is just that guy. he’s effortlessly charming, polite, intelligent, and the kind of person who could convince anyone he’s the perfect human being. he’s the type who walks into a room and immediately draws everyone in—not by being loud or flashy, but by knowing exactly how to make himself seem approachable, kind, and maybe even a little vulnerable. but all of it is just a mask.

enzo is a master manipulator. he knows exactly how to get what he wants, and he does it by making people think they’re in control. he doesn’t argue or beg; instead, he plants ideas like seeds in your mind. “if that’s what you think is best,” he’ll say with a soft smile, knowing full fucking well you’ll second-guess yourself. he makes you feel like every decision was yours, even though he’s been guiding you the whole time. and the worst part? you don’t even realize it until it’s too late.

emotional manipulation and guilt-tripping

enzo doesn’t argue outright, but he’s an expert at making you feel like everything is your fault. when you expresses your feelings or doubts about your relationship, he deflects and twists the narrative.

“you’re overthinking again, love. you always do this—it’s like you’re looking for reasons to fight.”

“after everything i’ve done for you, this is how you see me? it just doesn’t seem fair, babe.”

the constant emotional exhaustion of always questioning yourself and feeling like the villain slowly pushes you to the edge.

subtle isolation

enzo doesn’t tell you to stop seeing your friends or family straight up—that would be too obvious. instead, he plants seeds of doubt about them, turning you against the people who care about you.

“it’s just… don’t you think your friends don’t really understand you? they don’t see the real you like i do. they’re only here for a good time. they wouldn’t stick with you when things are hard, like i do.”

“your sister’s always been jealous of you. it’s kind of obvious when you think about it. in fact… i think i she was flirting with me at the lake trip last weekend…”

over time, you feel more and more alone, with enzo as the only person left in your corner—and even that’s suffocating.

his temper leaks through

enzo prides himself on being calm and composed, but even he can’t keep the mask on forever. when you push back—when you really challenge him—his anger surfaces.

“you think you’re better than me now? after all i’ve done just to make you happy? you should be grateful i’m still putting up with you. no one else would.”

“you don’t get to treat me like this. i deserve better than your constant doubts.”

while he doesn't resort to outright aggression, the quiet, cutting anger and emotional coldness are enough to make you feel small and utterly helpless against him.

hypercritical tendencies

at first, enzo is the type to shower you with compliments. but once he has you, the nitpicking starts. he frames his criticisms as “helping” you or “protecting” you, but they’re really about control. he wants to cut you down until his words are the only form of validation you trust; the only ones that matter.

“that dress is nice, but it’s not really your color, is it?”

“i just think you’d be happier if you didn’t spend so much time on things that don’t matter.”

it’s not that he truly thinks badly of you; it’s just his way of slowly implementing his control. the constant criticism erodes your self-esteem, making you wonder if you’re ever enough for him.

dismisses your autonomy

enzo frames his controlling nature as “taking care of you” or “looking out for you,” but it’s really about stripping away your agency.

he might make decisions for you without asking, like ordering for you at a restaurant or canceling your plans because he thinks you “needs rest.” you simply don’t get a say.

“i only did it because i know what’s best for you. you’d do the same for me if you cared as much as i do.”

over time, you realize you don’t have control over your own life anymore—and that terrifies you.

you start to feel like you’re losing your identity. the things you love—your hobbies, your friends, even your sense of self—have all been swallowed up by enzo’s world.

his fear of losing control turns ugly

when you start pulling away, enzo’s fear of losing you makes him tighten his grip. he might start tracking your whereabouts, showing up uninvited, or trying to manipulate you into staying.

“you’re not yourself lately, baby. i think you need me more than ever right now.”

“are you seriously leaving me after everything we’ve been through? i thought you were better than this. i thought you loved me—was it all a joke to you?”

his desperation exposes just how deeply insane, how utterly selfish he really is—and how dangerous it is to stay—but you still can’t help loving him.

the breaking point: seeing the mask slip

your breaking point comes when you finally see enzo for what he truly is. maybe it’s a moment of anger where his charm gives way to cold cruelty. maybe it’s realizing how isolated you’ve become or maybe it’s catching him in a lie.

“you know what? you’ll never find someone like me again. you’ll never find someone who loves you the way i do—or touches you the way i do.”

“go ahead and leave. but don’t come crawling back when you realize no one else will put up with you.”

and suddenly, the illusion you’ve clung to—the one where enzo is perfect, where his love is worth the pain—is shattered.

enzo doesn’t beg you to stay. no, he’s far more subtle. he sets the stage so that if you even think about leaving, the world around you becomes a constant reminder of him. your friends adore him. “enzo’s perfect for you,” they say, oblivious to his carefully crafted facade, oblivious to the fact that he doesn’t even want them within 50 feet of you. your family loves him because he’s gone out of his way to charm them. “he’s such a gentleman,” your mom gushes after he brings her flowers for no reason at all.

and when you confront him? he doesn’t argue. he doesn’t yell. instead, he sighs, looking at you with those soft, sad eyes. “i just wish you’d trust me,” he says, and suddenly you’re the one apologizing.

and enzo’s love isn’t love—it’s obsession. he doesn’t just want to be with you; he wants to consume you. he integrates himself so deeply into your life that it feels impossible to untangle yourself from him.

he’ll listen to all your favorite songs and tell you how much he loves them too. “this one reminds me of you,” he’ll say, and suddenly, every melody feels like it belongs to him.

he’ll watch all your favorite shows, quote them back to you, and make inside jokes so that even your comfort series becomes a part of his web.

he’ll charm your friends and family until they’re all on his side. “you’re lucky to have him,” they’ll say when you confide in them. and if you ever leave? they’ll tell you you’re making one of the biggest mistakes of your life.

“i just don’t understand,” he’ll say if you call him out. “everything i’ve ever done was for you. because i love you.”

and here’s the thing about enzo: even when he’s truly, deeply in love, he’s still toxic. love doesn’t magically make him a better person—it just changes the way he manipulates you. instead of using his charm to pull you in, he’ll use his insecurities to keep you there. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he whispers, and it sounds more like a warning than a confession. almost like he’s saying he’d become worthless without you.

but love does soften him in some ways. his need for control isn’t about power anymore; it’s about fear. he’s terrified of losing you, so he holds on tighter. he’s still manipulative, still controlling, but now it’s because he genuinely believes he can’t live without you.

enzo’s love is messy and overwhelming. it’s the kind of love that makes you feel like you’re drowning, but at the same time, you can’t imagine living without it. and that’s the tragedy of lorenzo berkshire: no matter what he does, you can’t help but love him anyway. even when you see his true colors, you’re already too far gone.

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

navigation. masterlist. lorenzo berkshire masterlist.

[profoundbondfanfic]

Hi!! This might be a weird request, but I hope it's not too confusing: I love Destiel, but I get really frustrated trying to find fic where one or the other character isn't super confident/smug/Dommy most of the time. To be honest, I'll always be hung up on that scene at the end of It's The Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester, with the two realising their similarities in chasing after absent father figures. Could you rec any fics where they're both damaged and vulnerable and learn to be kind and open?

Hello there!

Here are a few that might fit:

don't care where you've been by thanks_tacos (Explicit, 328k words)

Dean's life is finally changing. After years of enduring Alastair's abuse, the alpha dies and Dean's married off to the next alpha the system pairs him with - Castiel. The man is strange and distant, but not exactly bad, and Dean's determined to be on his best behavior and not mess up the chance he was given. Soon enough, though, he fucks up anyway and has to call the alpha for help. Castiel's lived his entire life without an omega by his side, and he was fine with that. He doesn't know how to proceed once he's suddenly married to a beautiful man who's obviously been through a lot. Omegas were always a confusing subject to him, so he tries not to interfere much - neither of them is there by their choice. But when Dean calls for help, he understands he's going to have to set some things straight and engage more.

Everybody Needs the Light by opal_bullets (Mature, 46k words)

In the summer of 2005, a gruesome hunt leaves a lonely and hurting Dean to take refuge in a remote Minnesota motel. He only means to stop for the night, yet finds himself compelled to stay. Maybe it’s the old, well loved lodge, or his cozy little cabin, or the spectacular views off the cliffs of Lake Superior. Or maybe it’s Castiel, the guy who runs the place. Dean’s falling for him fast, but there’s more to complicate the matter than the family business. Something strange is afoot in the Northwoods…Is Cas just caught in the crossfire, or is he the one standing at the center of it all?

First by FriendofCarlotta (Explicit, 25k words)

Romance novelist Castiel Novak is recovering from an addiction to painkillers and he’s struggling to settle back into life post-rehab. His therapist suggests visiting a local farm where anyone can spend an hour or two in the calming company of rabbits. The farm’s owner, Dean, is himself a recovering alcoholic… and a huge fan of Castiel’s books. A story of recovery, romance and rabbits, told in a series of firsts.

For Evermore by casblackfeathers (Explicit, 110k words)

There's no place like home. This was a line Castiel used to know by heart when he was a kid, watching The Wizard of Oz and believing fairytales were real. At thirty-one years old, he isn't a kid anymore, and it has been twelve years since he has known what home feels like. Twelve years. That's when his world had come crashing down and he had left his hometown, Holly Springs, with the broken pieces of what he once was to build a new life in San Francisco. But as circumstances force him to come back to the only place he swore he would never return to, Castiel is finally forced to face everything he once knew and loved. Especially when said everything is made of spring-green eyes and a stardust of freckles, wrapped in all the memories Castiel was not able to erase from his heart. After twelve years, Dean is as mesmerizing as Castiel remembers, but the scars of what was broken still run as deeply as the marrow of his bones, and Castiel will do everything he can to protect himself. After all, his favorite movie also taught him that 'until hearts can be made unbreakable,' he can’t listen to his own.

Have Love, Will Travel by squeemonster (Explicit, 94k words)

Castiel Novak is a reclusive writer with a childhood so tragic it's left him terrified to leave his home—until his overbearing brother, Gabriel, drags him out for a night on the town full of booze and strip clubs, and he encounters Dean Winchester, a mesmerizing and mysterious stripper with secrets of his own. Both men find themselves inexplicably drawn to each other, and soon Dean's private dances for Castiel become much more, as both men confess their troubles and find solace in each other's company. But neither can seem to find the courage to take their relationship further than the intimacy of the club's VIP Room—and just when Dean's own brother gives him the excuse he needs to finally admit his feelings, Dean discovers something that brings it all crumbling down. Will they find a way past their demons and their trust issues, and back to each other?

IPAMIS OL OLPRIT by emmbrancsxx0 (Explicit, 56k words)

The Winchesters, Castiel, and Jack discover the Men of Letters hid away a weapon that may be able to kill Michael. The only problem: it can only be used with John Winchester's blood. When Rowena performs a spell to temporarily bring John back, Dean runs into another problem. His father doesn't approve of his angel, and Castiel isn't too impressed with John either.

Nine Times We Met (And One Christmas We Parted) by almaasi (Explicit, 54k words)

On the last day of school before Christmas vacation, Mr. Castiel Quinn discovers that one of his young students has smuggled male pornography into the classroom. Upon being told that the photos belong to the boy's uncle, Castiel vows to himself that he will keep the other man's preferences a secret. It's 1947; a man experiencing attraction to another man or fantasising about his sexual touch are transgressive faults, which could potentially result in imprisonment - or worse. But then the uncle walks in. The photos are of him: Dean Winchester, a rogue with an empty pocket and a child to feed. Castiel doesn't know it yet, but his life is never going to be the same again. Years pass between chance meetings, but even though they live their lives apart, Dean and Castiel's story is proof that absence truly does make the heart grow fonder.

six hundred sundays (and many more) by sobsicles (Mature, 15k words)

Dean starts falling in love with him on a slow Sunday morning under slanted sunlight that slips through the gaps in the trees.

Solitudes by ilovehowyouletmefall (Mature, 21k words)

Dean and Castiel understand each other more than anyone else. They misunderstand each other more than anyone else as well. After Cas is nearly killed by Ramiel, Dean is coming very close to acknowledging that he wants something more from Cas than friendship. Cas, however, feels the weight of his responsibility very heavily. When Dean asks Cas to stick around longer, Cas says he needs to keep looking for Kelly, leaving Dean feeling dejected. But Cas agrees to help out on one more hunt before he leaves. Neither him nor Dean realize that the monster they're after can make their worst nightmares come true. OR: Dean thinks Cas is killed. Cas is there to witness the aftermath.

Something by the Sea by destielpasta (Mature, 30k words)

After suffering the horrific cost of being cured from demonhood, Dean and Cas settle down in the small town of Old Orchard Beach, Maine, buying a run-down shack near the beach to call their own. Dean attempts to get into a normal routine– fixing up the kitchen, chopping wood for the fire, and picking out paint colors– all with the pleasant backdrop of Cas’s company and a beach fifty feet away. These things prove themselves to be fragile, however, and the past haunts Dean in the form of nightmares and strange phone-calls from an untraceable number, along with the far-from-innocent history of their new house.

The Evil that Men do by MalicMalic (Explicit, 174k words)

When Dean learns his girlfriend found the man that raped her all those years ago, he is ready to make him feel the exact formation of Dean's knuckles, but Bela had some other ideas in mind. Dean is not what you might call a good guy, but even some things are too much for him. And then the worst thing happens - Dean learns they made a mistake. The guilt will consume him, making him change his foul path, but nothing will ever seem enough, even when he gets a chance for redemption.

The Greatest of These by DoctorProfessorSong (Teen and Up, 9k words)

When Jack pulls Cas from the Empty, his vessel is damaged. Jack is working on it. In the meantime, Cas is stuck hanging around the bunker in his Trueform. In other words, the fic where Dean takes Trueform!Cas on little dates and the author has way too much fun with angel lore

[strawbrryvyy]

Nct dream as love tropes ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Pairings - ot7!nct dream x gn!reader

Wc-1.2k

a/n- hii!!I hope you guys enjoy this little piece,unfortunately i may not be able to get out a+in secrets f in feelings part2 this week, but hopefully by the 14th🩷🩷

Mark Lee

╰┈➤ Okay!i feel like everyone would agree with me if I say that he radiates childhood bestfriends to lovers.

Like I can just imagine this sweet boy always following you around as a child yknow cuz you guys were besties and just always wanting to be around you.

THEN maybe one day you guys end up going to seperate universities(or college) and with everything going on lose touch

Fast forward three years, hes home,you’re home- BANG … you guys end up sleeping with eachother.

Now THIS brings up old feelings and as much youd like to ignore them, push them away and lock them up with a key, sealing them away forever…..its mark.

This is the boy you spent years chasing after not knowing if it would ever work.this is the boy that used to play guitar and make you silly little songs.this is the boy who was standing infront of you,pleading with his dark wood eyes and that little pout that could drive anygirl insane, that you give him a chance.

So what if you took that chance?

Huang Renjun

╰┈➤ Ok so for our boy renjunnie I’d say rivals to lovers for sure!

Just picture it, you’ve been the artist at your school,in tour family, your friend group…your THE artist.

Suddenly, tho in university it feels as if your walling the tightrope, constantly neck to neck with Huang Renjun to get the best in university.

So when a teacher suddenly picks BOTH of you to pair up for an assignment, you have to think “what is she thinking??”

Now im not saying renjun would be a little prick…but what if that is what I’m saying?He keeps taling your pencils,misplacing your oil pastels,spilling your paints.

This is what happens until youve had it, with him and his stupid comments and stupid…handsome face?

Now youre here crying and sobbing , hitting his chest as he stands there frozen…before wrapping his arms around you pressing small breathy kisses on your crown to calm you down

“Please…..shh..shh I can’t bare…please my love I’m sorry..”

So,what happens if you forgive him?

Lee Jeno

╰┈➤ Ok so …..the classic badboy x goodgirl trope.

I mean this man SCREAMS tattoos and sneaking you out to ride on his dangerous bike WITHOUT a helmet.

Ok so basically youre in university , still living with your parents because how could they let their precious scholarship child live in a overcharged small room with multiple other rascals?

Ok so you guys ALSO meet because of a school project, in which surprises you because your like “you want me??? With this big tattooed muscly guy??”

So basically jeno realises how naive you are and decided to invite you to a party that ISNT as wild as others but still pretty wild

There you get your first taste of alcohol that isnt expensive vodka and it feels as if the sun has shined on your dreary night, because a few kisses here and there and now your tangled in his sheets with a pounding headache.

And what makes you absolutely weak in the knees is that he stayed the morning after and even confessed.

“Yeah….I think- no I know I’m in love with you”

Lee Donghyuck

╰┈➤ Okay loser x popular student, with donghyuck being the loser who thinks hes funny and thats why everyone laughs but their actually laughing at him.

Ok so maybe one day donghyuck is doing something REALLY stupid which causes your new expensive dress to be ruined

In order for him to pay you back he offers to be your assistant for a year and ngl you laugh at his face , like hello??

Okay but you agree and THIS MAN … who taught him how to memorise coffee orders perfectly like….

Anyways you guys get closer until one day one of your more popular friends tells you to do a little prank on him and you , who ngl is abit confused about your feelings, agree,i mean whats the harm?

So you tell donghyuck you like him in a place where your friends were recording and as soon as he says that he likes you back , you laugh at his face and tell him it was a prank.

This boy is HEARTBROKEN as he runs away tears clinging to his eyes, causing you to realise you DO like him.

SO you run after him and as he stands there in front of you yelling at you, you take it ,begging for another chance and that you DO love him and you were stupid.now you were the crying mess until a word slips out from donghyucks mouth.

“Fine”

Na jaemin

╰┈➤ Ok so he gives off brothwrs bestfriend trope!!just imagine trying to get his attention while wearing the tiniest skirts and tops that could pass as underwear.

He obviously knows what tour doing when you come out of your room wearing what he could consider a bra and panties just because its “scorching!”

He just can’t help but want ro bend you over that kitchen counter everytime he sees you, and he knows youd gladly oblige….as long as your beothwr doesent find out!

So to maybe ease the tension he asks you formally on a date and it works because when your in his bed moaning his name, the last thing in his mind is your brother finding out.

Maybe you dont care either because with how how you smile up at him with every chance you get he can tell you love him!

Zhong Chenle

╰┈➤ Classic rich boy x poor girl trope.maybe your at a university and usually its rich people who go there but you have a scholarship (okay brainy smurf!!)

Maybe you run into him while hes on a walk with daegal and she runs away and you find her.

You immediately contact chenle because of the number on her coller and you and chenle become kinda friends.

Now he definately FLAUNTS his wealth and your there just like “yeah dude” and maybe chenle buys you small trinkets (i would NOT call a gold bracelet a small trinket but whatever ig).

And as you guys hang out more it hits you. OMG!!i like this guy!

Ok but chenles parents are having him get married , and he doesent like the girl so he BEGS you to marry him promising you everything and you right then and there confess to him and you guys like kiss and get married before his parents have a chance to arrange smth with that girl.

“Please y/n….i’ll give you everything”

Park Jisung

╰┈➤ Red string au!ok so picture going on a cruise and meeting a boy that became your besfriend for five days and four nights!

You had his number but he never picked up

Well!imagine your surprise when you see the name park jisung on your university soccer team…surely its not that park jisung.

So as you get accustomed to everyone on the team , you start opening up about yourself especially when you became friends with jisung.

So imagine his surprise when you showed him a picture and he exclaims that it was him.

Then as you questioned him with an upset voice, he sheepishly asked for you to show him the piece if paper with the number.

The 6 was a 0!!

“What if we yknow…start from here”

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'