#and yes in the same breath I say ''my god I NEED to post this today for NO good reason''
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riostwsty · 2 years ago
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" I'll make up to you... "
Summary: Jamil does nothing but work all day, everyday. Luckily he can always rely on his partner at times when he feels beyond exausted. word count 1.6k + Keywords: fluff, scenario, romance, third person narrator, g/n reader (you/yours), established relationship, reader not implied Yuu/MC Characters: Jamil x reader CWs: none, just comfort I think
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Your footsteps echoes in the halls of Scarabia, moonlight and the shimmer of a thousand stars illuminated your path by the windows beside. Kalim had asked for help with a big project for Astrology class, and there you were, only managing to finish a little before 1 am struck, and as you were heading back to your room, decided to pay a visit to the dorm's kitchen for a cup of water and a (post) midnight snack.
There was a strange sight however, upon arriving there, of a Jamil Viper standing unmoving behind the counter, staring expressionless at his feet.
—"Jamil! I haven't seen you all day, where have you been?"— you asked. He didn't even flinch at the sound of your voice, but you continued regardless —"You didn't read any of my messages, I was actually starting to get worried, haha... Jamil?"—
The lack of response made you reluctantly approach, getting nearer, you made sense of the situation at hand... more or less.
He stared at four pieces of bread fallen face down on the floor. Stared as if they had insulted him in seven different languages. Glancing back and forth to the floor and his face, all you could muster was a "Wha..."
—"I wanted toast"— he muttered to himself —"why."—
You picked up the bread, hopefully to break the weird trance your boyfriend was in, and looked for a garbage bin to discard them. He furrowed his brows, at last truly acknowledging your presence. You imitaded his expression back —"It's way past the five second rule, come on."—
He sighed, leaning on the counter with arms crossed and resting his head on them like a makeshift pillow, face down. It was fairly obvious what it meant, and a bit unease, you already knew what to do in situations like it.
—"wanna talk about your day?"—
—"hm."— Jamil grunted quietly, taking in a deep breath as he counted on his fingers —"Final history test. Didn't submit Crewel's project in time. Laundry. Dishes. Cancelled Basketball practice."—
—"That's quite the list..."—
—" 's only half of it"—
You leaned on the counter next to him, with a half embrace, rubbing circles on his back with one hand. —"I came here for a midnight snack before going to bed, but I can also make you some hot chocolate while I'm at it. How's that sound?"—
His posture changed to the offering, looking up at the ceiling as if carefully calculating his response, but then slowly shaking his head in hesitant disapproval —"...Must consume milk under three days... once opened.... Such a waste."— His speech was slurred from the sheer exaustion, stumbling over his words while you tried to make sense of the conversation —"... don' worry... I eat the floor toast. thanks."— he then let all the weight of his head fall at once on the counter with a comically loud thud to end the discussion right then and there.
Needless to say, this has happened a fair amount of times before. The vice housewarden often gets too caught up in his responsabilities to even remember taking breaks, and when his partner is not around to give reminders, well... the situation only escalates to the worst. In comparison to his usual serious, responsible and ever flawless image, he'd become completely out of touch due to the fatigue accumulated througout the day, walking and speaking as if his conciousness hang by a thread, threatening to give in at every second passed.
Jamil constantly fought to keep the solemn demeanor, but one can only go so far, after all, he's human too. He'd rather dissappear than ever be caught acting as anything but the picture perfect mask he held in front of others, and that drained ridiculous amounts of energy the longer he kept up the performance.
You took his face on your hands and brought him closer to inspect his drowsy state. He struggled to keep his vision focused, and it gave the impression of the bags under his eyes to be darker than usual. He noticed you press your lips in a thin line and squint your eyes as you observed with worry. Jamil hadn't even begun to lose himself in the tender moment, of your warm hands caressing his skin so affectionately, when you rapidly turned your attention to the kitchen cabinets to take all the ingredients for that previously mentioned hot chocolate offer, making him click his tongue in annoyance.
—"[name], I told you I-"—
—"Jamil, stop worrying about wasting ingredients from the pantry, and allow yourself to enjoy a well deserved treat for once"— you interrupted —"you're tense. you should relax before heading to bed, or else you won't get a good night's rest"—
He scoffed, approaching from behind and shutting with both hands another cabinet you were about to open, like that consequently closing the space between you two, as he glared as best as he could at your surprised expression now centimeters away from his face.
It was an embarrassing position to be in, between the cabinet and Jamil you couldn't move, caged between his arms so he was sure you'd look at him the eye. Yes, it would be almost intimidating, that is, if his mind hadn't gone blank from his sleep deprived state, only managing to muster a single "ssstop." accompanied by a tired pout.
—"Nop"— you pushed him back gently —"You go sit down somewhere. I'll take care of things now"—
==
Both of your hands were occupied as you made your way around the dorm. One holding Jamil's mug and the other holding his hand, guiding him like a lost puppy. By the time you reached the boy's room, he seemed to have finally given up complaining, and was resting his head on your shoulder, barely keeping himself up. You instructed him to sit at the edge of the bed, handing him the hot beverage, while you took a seat behind, and began to undo his messy braids and ponytail with care.
The quietness between interactions was by no means uncomfortable anymore, at this stage of the relationship, they were reassuruing moments that told words weren't needed when you two understood each other so well. It was true, reading a person like Jamil was no easy task, yet you did it so effortlessly. Still, that didn't mean he was a completely open book in any way.
After undoing the braids, you took a brush to untangle any knots left in his hair. Once you noticed the tension on his shoulders was beggining to dissipate, you decided to gather a bit of courage to ask something that had been bothering you for quite some time.
—"Why are you always so eager to refuse any help from me?"— you broke the silence —"You're barely managing to keep yourself up by the end of the week, yet you still..."—
You sighed, not feeling the need to complete the sentence. Jamil didn't respond right away, only tapping his fingers on the mug in hand as if counting the seconds passed from the unanswered question.
—"I'm used to... doing that"— he took a sip from the hot chocolate —"you feel bothered by it?"—
—"It's just that you do so much for everyone. You do so much for me and-"— you interrupted youself, wondering what words to use to accurately describe your thoughts on the matter —"and it feels like the efforts are unbalanced, you know? It's unfair."—
His eyes darted across the room, seeking to be fixed anywhere but to your direction.
—"...can't say I feel the same way"— he mumbled.
You sighed softly, letting the quiet atmosphere to sink in once more.
Growing up as a servant for the Asim family, constantly having to look after others and never prioritizing himself, barely taking any breaks- for sure these responsabilities took deep roots on his subconscious, wether he noticed it or not, no matter how much he believed he deserved better, there was always a voice in the back of his mind, telling the exact contrary. Ordering him to hold the act for just a little while longer, to work a bit more, and above all, to do it all alone. It was HIS duty and no one else's.
But among crowds you only had eyes on him. And among layers of deception you knew what he really felt. Saw the burden he'd much prefer for you to ignore it.
—"well, you know I love you very much"— you added weakly, taking the now empty cup from his hands and placing it on the drawer beside the bed, along with the hairbrush you had just finished using —"maybe we can talk about this tomorrow, once you're well rested?"—
In no time Jamil turned around from his spot on the bed and tackled you down on the matresses with him, hugging your frame like a body pillow.
—"promise to remind me-"— he added drowsy as he finally allowed his heavy eyelids to shut —"I'll make up to you tomorrow"—
—"yeah, promise."— in no hesitation, you lied. As you had done times before, in this scenario you felt no guilt in doing so. For there was no need to have your favor ever be payed back by Jamil. Taking care of him was no task, much less one to be returned in feeling of obligation.
It was something he couldn't wrap his head around. The fact that someone would do such things, all purely out of love for him. There was still a long way to go until he could even begin to truly understand, your adoration for him was not a matter of exchange, but one of heart.
You ran your fingers through his hair until he was fast asleep, and prepared yourself to join in soon, waiting for morning to wake you to another busy day, that by the end of it, you'd be willing to repeat the same nightly routine over and over again, if so needed, and if he would allow it.
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checkeredflagggs · 25 days ago
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Unexpected Roommate
pairing: lando norris x pet owner!reader
summary: when moving in with his girlfriend, lando gets confronted with the new side of her pet
a/n: inspired by the guy walking his pet down the street I saw yesterday…
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, yourbff, oscarpiastri, and 231,445 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: and it’s moving day! It’s a big step for us but I can’t wait to start living with you landonorris!
view all comments
user1: oh god the fomo I have
↳user2: saaaaammmmmmeeee
oscarpiastri: the question is was lando being helpful today or just disruptive?
↳landonorris: oi!!!
↳yourusername: Oscar!
↳oscarpiastri: it’s a valid question! I work with him — I know his habits
↳maxverstappen1: same
↳alex_albon: same
↳georgerussell63: same
↳danielricciardo: same
↳carlossainz55: same
↳landonorris: you frickin muppets!
↳yourusername:…
↳yourusername: he was helpful moving me out but quite distracted when we got to our new place
↳landonorris: oi!!!
↳yourusername: sorry baby but it’s true
user3: god the heart fingers…when will it be my turn…
user4: we need a tour!
↳user5: yaaassss! I need all the details for my fantasies where I’m living her life…
↳user4: ok let’s not get too crazy here
alex_albon: let us know when you’re all moved in!
↳landonorris: why?
↳maxverstappen1: so we don’t get roped into helping of course!
↳landonorris: I’m gonna block all of you
carlossainz55: did he let you get anything done once you got there?
↳landonorris: yes!! And I helped!
↳yourusername: the bedroom and his game room are done…
↳oscarpiastri: yeah that sounds about right
↳landonorris: stop slandering me!
↳user6: little lando norris learned a new word!
↳yourusername:🤣🤣🤣
↳landonorris: babe! 😢😢
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, and 397,455 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: didn’t know I would gain a limpet when I moved…or that my dinners would now come with live entertainment 🤣🤣
view all comments
user7: I’ll take that issue off your hands
↳user8: or me!
↳yourusername: sorry he’s mine only!
↳landonorris: I’m yours?
↳yourusername: I’d fight all your fangirls for you
↳landonorris: babe 😍😍
landonorris: babe…why you gotta do me dirty like that??
↳landonorris: you said you wouldn’t post these photos!!!
↳yourusername: I lied! Gotta show everyone your true character
↳landonorris: babe!
↳yourusername: sorry not sorry 😘 forgive me?
↳landonorris:😢😢😢
↳yourusername: 🥰🥰🥰
↳landonorris: ok but only cause you’re really hot
maxverstappen1: need a crowbar there?
↳alex_albon: or maybe another set of hands to push him away?
↳yourusername: is both an option? 🤣
↳charles_leclerc: might need some chains and a tow truck…
↳maxfewtrell: can you even breathe?
↳landonorris: I’m literally going to report all of you for bullying me
↳charles_leclerc: you’d need to detach yourself from her first
↳alex_albon: are we supposed to be scared?
↳maxverstappen1: so?
↳maxfewtrell: in real life too?
↳yourusername: even me? 🥹🥹🥹
↳landonorris: never you baby
yourbff: he is NOT invited to girls night
↳yourusername: of course not!
↳landonorris: you said I could come!
↳yourusername: the council said no!
↳landonorris: is the council yourbff?
↳yourbff: And coco!
↳landonorris: coco would never! She loves me!
↳yourbff: still a no!
Private Messages
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lnupdates
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liked by user1, user2, and 790,469 others
tagged: landonorris, maxfewtrell
lnupdates: I don’t even have words for how chaotic Lando’s last stream was… can anyone identify the voice in the background that was cursing them out?
view all comments
user9: it wasn’t yourusername was it?
↳user10: no she had photos posted of her and yourbff at a concert
↳user9: then whoooo???
↳user10: I think I heard them say coco??
user11: like I’m concerned about who that was but��that was freaking hilarious
↳user12: I completely agree. Whoever they were, they were roasting max and lando
↳user13: the absolute shock on lando’s face when the first motherfucker rang out…
user14: taking notes 📝📝📝📝
↳user15: what for???
↳user14: Lindsey is going down next time
↳user15: oh my god let it go
↳user14: never
Private Messages
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, charles_leclerc, and 1,590,278 others
tagged: lnupdates, cocotheparrot
yourusername: the criminal from last night’s streaming…snafu. Meet Coco! She’s a mature African Grey Parrot I adopted from a friend who could no longer care for her.
She has…strong opinions and an even stronger way to express those opinions 🧡
view all comments
user16: oh my god I’m in love
landonorris: you didn’t tell me she talked!!!
↳yourusername: babe it’s well known that african greys are considered the smartest parrots
↳landonorris: WELL KNOWN TO WHOOOO?!?
↳alex_albon: everyone
↳yourusername: everyone
↳lilymunhe: everyone
↳charles_leclerc: everyone
↳maxfewtrell: everyone
↳maxverstappen1: everyone
↳carlossainz55: everyone
↳mclaren: everyone
lnupdates: oh my god!! I would never even guessed a parrot!!
user17: she’s absolutely beautiful!
↳user18: god I’d love to get a parrot
↳yourusername: take care! Parrots are one of the hardest breeds to take care of and one of the longest living ones too — anywhere from 40-60 years
↳user18: …ok maybe not a parrot
↳landonorris: 40 TO 60 YEARS???
↳charles_leclerc: maybe you’ll learn a new language listening to her!
↳landonorris: 4 to 6 DECADES OF BEING SWORE AT?
↳alex_albon: awesome!
↳yourusername: she doesn’t swear all the time…
↳landonorris: 😨😨😨
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a/n2: so I saw someone walking their pet parrot down the street and it was so cool! I didn’t get swore at (which would have made my day tbh) but this popped into my mind and I had to write it out. I don’t know why but lando makes the most sense to have a pet parrot that swears
2K notes · View notes
just-some-random-blogger · 4 months ago
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Tin Soldier
Gwayne returns from Rook's Rest to King's Landing where his wife has been patiently waiting for him, knowing he would need stress relief.
Gwayne Hightower x Reader | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, pwp idk what to tell you, ok nvm porn with feelings, gwaynes BRATTY, smut (piv, bdsm, pet play??, biting, marking, scratching), fluff can you believe that, typos, etc.
A/N: inspired by this post. i wish @barbieaemond and @targs-on-zorses a very much i hope you suffer
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"Oh, praise the gods," I mutter under my breath once I spot the two knights entering through gates of the Keep. I dismiss my handmaiden and head towards them.
Gwayne and Criston spot me, the former's hardened face softens. I offer them a smile and clasp my hands, "very good. The Mother has delivered you whole." I nod in regard, "ser Criston."
The said man nods, "my-"
"You would greet another man before your husband, woman?"
I turn to Gwayne. His jaw clenches. I hold back a grin and pucker my lower lip instead, "I only wished to thank the Hand for returning my love to me with no missing limbs."
He scoffs. His horse trots in place. Gwayne does not enjoy that. He very much did not enjoy that.
"I should thank your husband for doing the same for me, my lady," Criston replies, making me turn back to him.
I smile. Gwayne dismounts. "Then I rejoice in knowing you both will return safely so long as you have each other."
A stable boy comes to get my husband's ride. He spares me no glance when he walks passed me. I turn to my feet with a chuckle, rubbing my belly that bubbled in excitement, "welcome home, ser." We share a nod before I chase after my lord.
He is walking incredibly fast.
I gather my skirts, "my lord!"
Gwayne does not stop. He only continues to storm to our shared chambers. When he reaches the stairs, I break into a sprint, laughing as I did, "lord husband!"
Needless to say, my calls fall deaf on his ears. I have to catch my breath once I enter the room.
"RETURN ME?!"
I close the door behind me, eyes not leaving my armored lover as he paces around the room. My breath hitches at the sight of him. Oh, how I missed the clanking of his steel uniform.
Gwayne turns back to me, pointing a harsh finger to the ground, "WOULD THAT I BE THE ONE RETURNED-
My eyes sparkle at his vexed expression.
"OH! IF YOU ONLY KNEW HOW COLE WAS-"
I reach for his breastplate, "twas a jest."
"Well, you jest wrongly," he glares, swatting my hands away. I press my lips together to suppress my smile. He charges towards the vanity, "you now not how insufferable that Dornishman is."
He begins to undo the cuffs on his forearm. Oh, by the Seven, he was actually upset. He never removed his own armor, not when I was present. I sigh, "Gwayne-"
"Do not-" he pulls roughly on his sleeve "-address me, woman."
I purse my lips and grab his shoulder plate. He shrugs me off dramatically and I reel back in momentary shock, only to huff and grab him by his steely collar.
He glares at me.
I raise my brows, mouth opening to start a new argument. But his face, marked with hurt, though dramatic, makes my heart tinge. I decide not to pursue it.
He recognizes this and lifts his nose. His brows quirk in challenge.
I tilt my head and sigh, "begging your pardon, my lord," I brush my hands down to the sigil on his heart, "tis distasteful to speak on matters I know not of."
Gwayne stares at me for a moment. I peer at him through my lashes, absentmindedly drawing shapes on his chest, "I submit. I wish not to quarrel."
He does not reply, but he visibly relaxes, save for the way his brows knit, "my lips."
My eyes fall to his mouth where a cut laid on the bottom corner, "yes. You've been cut." I pull away to grab some ointment for it, "we shall treat your lip again after your bath."
He watches as I go through the vials on the table. Just as I open the lid of the salve, I feel his rigid body press against my back. I look over my shoulder, gazing up at his face as he embraces me.
"You have not kissed them," he mutters, "you insult me twice, wife."
Oh, what darling. I pretend to think, "I thought I was woman."
"Wrong again," he takes the vial from me, setting it down with little attention. He turns me around and traps me against the vanity, "my woman."
He wastes no more time keeping our lips separate. Gwayne picks me by the waist and sits me on the table as his lips reacquaint themselves with mine. My body melts against him, my legs part to welcome him between and my hands sneak their way into his nape.
He pulls away, "damn this helmet."
I giggle but stop him when he tries to rid himself of it. He raises a brow then sighs, "not again."
"What?" I laugh innocently, "it suits you well."
He shakes his head but makes no further move to rid himself of his steel hat. He does however begin to bunch my skirts up. I mumble, "my tin soldier."
He groans. "Perhaps I'll fuck you in my helmet, vixen," he wraps my legs around him, "see how you like it."
I gleefully retort, "so long as you fuck me, ser-" he begins to kiss my neck, "I will be- OH!"
Gwayne sharply pulls away, face concerned.
I cover my mouth with my hands, "I'd nearly forgotten!"
He can do nothing but watch as I wrangle out of our position and shoo him away. He grumbles as I go through a drawer, "I got you a gift."
"Must you give it to me now?"
I laugh and turn back to him once I have it in my hand, "I find you will regret it if I do not give it to you sooner."
His brow quirks in interest.
I grin and motion with my head, "to the bed with you."
Gwayne is sat on the side of the bed in an instant. He eagerly looks at me. I saunter over with a look of mischief. His eyes widen when I kneel by his feet. At this point, he knew exactly what my surprise was and he simply reaches a hand out to me.
I place a bell in his palm. Gwayne releases a deep breath that breaks into an excited chuckle, "oh, my girl, you might regret this."
I simply look at him with a smile.
He stares at me, knowing then that our game had started. His lips part infinitesimally as he basks in the power he now had. He rings the bell, "you may speak your mind, pet."
"Thank you, ser."
Gwayne rings it again, "get me out of this fucking armor."
"Yes, ser," I say, coming to my feet to undo his top. I feel his eyes on me as I do so.
He releases a breath, hands coming to my side, "I have free rein on your body, do I not?"
"Of course, ser."
"Mmm," he rubs my ass then smacks it, "strip for me," he rings the bell.
I turn to him, "after I-"
"Now," he blurts.
I pull away from him and begin to undo the ties of my dress. It is a slight struggle but not impossible. Once my dress drops to the floor and I'm left in my shift, he rings his bell, "stop."
I still where I stand.
"And your smallclothes," he rings.
I oblige, pulling them and letting them drop to the floor. He reaches a hand out, ringing again, "come to me."
I take his hand and he spreads his legs. I sit on his lap and he rings, "you may proceed, pet."
I continue to undo his armor, "of course, ser."
Ring. "Kiss me as you do so."
I do not speak, only follow the command. I kiss him intermittently as I finally remove a shoulder plate. It is considerably harder to do than undoing my dress because of all the latches. I decide to prioritize undressing him, but it seems that was a mistake.
He snakes his hand up my skirt and squeezes my inner thigh, "my lips are wanting yours, pet."
"I am doing my best, se-"
"Well, try harder."
Gwayne thoroughly enjoys my struggle and unabashedly complains when I am not kissing him. I begin to grow increasingly frustrated when I prioritize kissing him yet finds it in him to complain about how hot his armor is. At some point, I begin throwing the metal I do get off him angrily to the ground.
His chuckle is deep, "careful, pet. That is your lord's armor."
"Fuck your armor," I grunt, chucking his cuffs to the floor.
He laughs and licks his lips.
"I was given permission to speak my mind, was I not? I mutter, sliding off his lap to undo the cuffs on his legs.
"I did not give you leave to leave my lap," he stares at me.
I glare at him and sit back down. He examines me for a moment, rings his bell, and chirps, "get off."
I sigh and stand.
"Uh-ta-ta-ta-ta," he grabs my arm and raises a finger. He looks up at me, shrugging, "what do we say?"
I suck in a breath and force a smile, "of course, ser. Thank you, ser."
"Good," he raises the bell before ringing it, "proceed."
I drop to my knees and continue to rid him of his wretched armor. He brushes my hair back and rubs my lips, "indeed again, you you are not kissing me."
I huff, looking up at him. His eyes sparkle as I say, "a thousand apologies, ser." I attempt to do the impossible, kissing him while undoing the cuffs on his shins. Amazingly, I eventually complete the task and do so with another huff.
Gwayne rings his bell and knocks on his helmet, "you missed one, pet."
I sit on his lap and place my hands on his shoulders. He watches me as I frown. I look at him pleadingly but he allows me no satisfaction. I have no choice but to take his helmet off. He snakes an arm around me, "hard, that one, was it?"
I place his helmet on the night stand and kiss him, "I wish to please my lord."
He smirks, "then shall you be rewarded." He carelessly chucks the bell behind him, causing me gasp, "Gwayne!"
"I enjoyed our little game but find I no longer have the patience for it," he grabs my thighs and turns me on him.
"That's why we keep losing the bell, you keep throwing it!"
"Fuck the bell," he quips, making me straddle him, "I want to fuck my wife."
The next thing I know, my dress is being ripped off and he's hastily undoing his breeches. I cannot help my laugh as I shift atop him to free himself, and once he is, I grind on his hardened cock, making him grit his teeth. I bask in the feel of him after removing his shirt. By the gods, how I've missed the feel of his chest on my palms.
He allows me to dote on his scars and freckles. I could weep at his beauty. He then sinks his head into the crook of my neck and I wrap my arms around him.
"My wife," he licks a stripe to my jaw, "I dream about your skin."
I brush my fingers up his hair and tug gently, "Gwyane."
"I miss your taste," he mutters in between kisses. He tightens his hold on me, "I miss your taste, miss your skin, miss your lips, my love," he rakes his fingers up my back, "did you miss me?"
I moan as I sink myself down on him. He squeezes my shoulders and drops his jaw.
I grab his cheeks and press our foreheads together, "missed you so much— missed your touch, missed having you inside me, missed your smart mouth."
He chuckles and kisses me, "missed yours." Gwayne begins to buck into me, arms tight around my waist.
I grunt and bring his face into my chest, throwing my head back as I ride him. He sucks on my skin, intent to leave evidence of him on me. I tangle my fingers into his hair then pepper kisses on his forehead. He smelled of sweat and dirt and ash; I relish every bit of him.
I whimper when he sinks his teeth into the side of my throat before suckling. I clench around him in response. I pull his hair and speak his name. He replies with a moan, grazing me with his teeth once more.
My riding becomes harder. The sound of our breath and the utterance of each other's names mingle with the creak of the bed and the wet sound of slapping skin. He grabs my hips, flesh spilling between his fingers, and bites his nails into me. He huffs, guiding me into faster and rougher pace.
I lean my forehead on his once more, darting my tongue to his lips. He chases my tongue, catching it between his teeth, then does the same to my lips. I whimper when I taste blood. He licks the iron off and trails kisses to my ear, "come on my cock, baby, want you to come with me."
I whimper out and nod, "Gwayne."
"Come on," he mutters, "come, my love."
Pressure builds inside me, and we soon both grow erratic. There is a thick silence before guttural cries reverberate through the room. My body comes alive. The thick, hot, pleasure is so intense my breath is knocked out of my lungs and I quickly feel myself seize up.
My husband, ever dutiful, sinks his nails into my thighs and fucks out every last bit of the melting sensation from the both of us. A hoarse noise rips from my throat and makes my toes curl into my soles. Gwayne even overcompensates and plows into me until I'm reeling. I knew it was too much for him too, and so I supply him with the shaky whimpers I knew he desperately craves.
I feel lightheaded by the time he stops. He rests his head on me before finally collapsing on his back, taking me down with him. His chest rises and falls rapidly, our skin now sticky with sweat.
His hands rest on my thighs. I bring mine to both his shoulders. I pant against his jaw, "that was intense."
He hums, "well," he huffs, "you missed me too much."
"No," I nuzzle into his neck and draw shapes on his skin, "you missed me too much."
He brushes his nose against my head, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I didn't miss you at all."
"Good. I didn't miss you either."
He rubs my skin, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Out of nowhere, he whines in a high pitched voice, "OH Gwayne- OH! You feel so gOOD- AH AH-"
I swat him and with a dropped jaw. I lift my head and glare at him, "I did NOT say that!"
Gwayne's eyes fall on me, lips pursing. He brings one arm behind his head and takes the other to my cheek. My belly flutters at the sight of him. He was beautiful like this, shining after our love making. His rough thumb rubs my face, "pity." He brushes my hair back, "I'm going to have to fix that."
I roll my eyes at him but I am unable to fight back my smile.
He smiles back. His eyes soften and his voice is careful, "... did you miss me, my love?"
"Gods," I nearly roll my eyes at the back of my head, "oh, my sweet boy. My sweet pathetic boy who I so terribly missed."
He grins. The lines by on his cheeks only deepen when he laughs.
My stomach rolls again. I speak in earnest, capturing his cheek, "every day, I thank the Seven that I bask in your beauty."
Gwayne's eyes rove over me. He rubs my arm, "we should have another babe."
I scoff, "Gwayne-"
2K notes · View notes
screamlet · 17 days ago
Text
08x06 fix-it fic: break and be mended
not connected to that excerpt i posted before, just something completely different. 4.5k, read on the ao3
---
Another hospital room. Buck takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again, letting it out and hoping he gets back to sleep. It doesn't happen, though, because his brain catches up to his eyes:
Maddie, wearing a yellow paper hospital mask, a hand anxiously on her belly, sitting in the chair next to him with that too-familiar oh-thank-god-you're-finally-awake face… and Tommy leaning in the doorway.
He takes another deep breath and opens his eyes again.
"You're okay," Maddie says patiently, slowly, as Buck tries to slam the door shut or set the doorway on fire with his brain. "It's just the turkey flu, it hit you hard."
That breaks Buck's concentration. "Wait, is this a dream? Another coma dream? Turkey flu has to be something I made up."
Maddie raises her eyebrows and looks over her shoulder at Tommy before turning back to Buck. "Another one?"
"No, no, don't look at him," Buck interrupts. "He's not supposed to be here, not when I have turkey flu, not ever. He broke up with me, remember?"
In the doorway, Tommy shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He's wearing the dark blue LAFD t-shirt and pleated pants, a special Air Ops patch on his shirt sleeve. They always lurked under his flight suit, under his turnouts when they were on the same scene, but Buck didn't get to see them often. It was for the best, he thinks now, because the shirt fits perfectly across Tommy's chest and shoulders, the pants belted low. His shirt is tucked in better than Buck's ever is. He almost never got to see him like this so it feels like some new Tommy he's seeing, a Tommy that hangs around Harbor long enough to take off his flight suit but doesn't peel the rest of his work self off. He doesn't get off his shift, put the pilot away, shower and go home.
Buck looks away. He's looked too long.
"I'm actually here, you know." Tommy raps his knuckles on the door like that's proof of anything except a very strong poltergeist. "I can hear you."
Buck watches something that he hasn't seen in years sweep across Maddie's face (mostly her eyebrows, because of the mask).
She turns around and snaps, "I let you come within ten feet of my brother and you think bitchy fun Tommy was invited, too? He was not." Tommy looks shocked and abashed; Buck loves her so much.
"Why was he invited at all, Maddie?" Buck asks. "And you're both real, right? Like I'm not hallucinating both of you. Is that a turkey flu symptom? Can I have my phone? I need to look up turkey flu."
"It's a strain of avian flu, you just happened to get it from a turkey farm. Hen said you had a call to one of those last week," Maddie explains. "And you kept giggling when I said the words turkey flu so, you know, why not?"
"It's pretty funny," Buck admits. "Hey, why's he here?"
Maddie turns around and looks at Tommy expectantly. Buck still knows his face, still knows him, and can see the quip that wants to escape past his lips. He can see the work it takes to hold it back and look sincere, really sincere, for them.
"You collapsed at a scene and I flew you over," Tommy says. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."
Buck stares at him as he presses his lips into a fine line. "I'm okay. Thanks."
Tommy nods, then asks, "Can we talk? Alone?"
It's taken four months, almost as long as they were together, but Buck's finally hearing the words he's wanted to hear since Tommy walked out his door. I'm sorry, I was scared, I love you, yes let's take the next step together, from now on let's take every step together—that was Buck's first choice. Can we talk as a jumping off point for all those other things—that was Buck's second choice. Was.
Buck glances at Maddie and knows his face does something dumb. "I'll be outside," Maddie says. "And I'm not far, if you want me to throw him out." She looks over her shoulder at Tommy. "I'll do it."
Tommy nods. "Wouldn't doubt you for a second."
She squeezes Buck's hand and lingers for a beat, one long look at him like she's waiting for him to say actually, wait, don't, stay, but he doesn't. He hates that he doesn't. He hates that he wants to hear what Tommy has to say.
She and Tommy swap places; he takes the chair next to Buck's bed and she leaves, shutting the door behind her. Tommy doesn't see the way she passes by the window like a shark, watching, but Buck laughs. When Tommy looks back, she's gone.
"Your sister's changed a little," Tommy says casually. "Her sense of humor, I mean."
Buck licks his lips. "Yeah, well, when you were my boyfriend, you were her friend. Now you're neither."
"Yep, got it," Tommy says. He sits back in the chair, but looks so uncomfortable that someone would think he'd never sat in one before.
"Are you okay?" Buck asks. "Why are you here?"
"This chair is so weird."
"Tommy, what do you want to talk about?"
It startles Tommy, and it should. He only got soft and smitten, totally-in-love (even if he couldn't admit it out loud) Evan Buckley, cute and bratty Evan Buckley. He doesn't get that Evan anymore. No one has.
Tommy sits with his feet flat on the floor and his hands folded in his lap. He takes a minute, a long minute, of staring at the floor before he looks up and stares at Buck. "You asked me to move in with you."
Buck blinks. "I did."
"You asked me to move in with you."
"You said that. I mean, I said that, but you—"
"Evan," Tommy interrupts.
"I thought I was Buck now," Buck interrupts.
Bitchiness lurks on Tommy's tongue, but he holds it back. "You asked me to move in with you. Into the loft."
Buck tilts his head. "Yeah?"
Tommy shuts his eyes hard and shakes his head before he looks at Buck again. "Evan, I own a house."
"... okay?"
"Did you ask me to move in with you and expect me to give up my house?"
"What, no—" Buck says, then stops himself. "I don't—I didn't think—"
"Did you even think about that?" Tommy asks. "Like when you talked about moving in together, getting married, the future, all of that—did you even remember that I own a house?"
"You know," Buck interrupts. "Four months ago, you could have said, haha, wow, that's moving pretty fast, also I own a house, maybe when we're ready, we could move into MY HOUSE and make it OUR HOUSE, but you needed to run out the door so why would you say any of that?"
"Yeah! I was freaked out! Because here was this guy I—this guy I really liked, and he asked me, a 40-year-old man, to move into his loft?"
"What's wrong with it? Why do you keep saying it like that?"
"It's downtown! Downtown is loud and filthy and did I mention it's noisy? It was hell sleeping there in the summer because even with your central air, heat rises and it rises right into the bedroom. I saw your electric bill, Evan, it was unforgivable."
Buck wants to throw something at him. "And we could have been at your house, quiet and with better temperature control, but we weren't because…?"
"I'm just saying," Tommy continues. "Yeah, all that's true, but I realized you wanted me, wanted a future with me, and you didn't even remember that when I wasn't working or with you, I was at my house."
"I get that," Buck says. "Now how many times did we hang out at your house?"
Tommy sighs. "It's out of the way, your place was always closer to the 118 and to Harbor, and I kept—I was going to, okay? Like maybe after our anniversary, we'd take a week off together and we'd actually be at my house, or take a trip somewhere—"
"You got me basketball tickets," Buck snipes at him.
Tommy stops completely.
"For our six month anniversary, remember?"
"How the hell am I going to forget that?"
"You got me tickets to see the Lakers. Really good tickets."
Tommy rolls his eyes. "Alright, well, that's the last time I call that guy I know in the press office for anything."
Buck thinks he's getting closer to setting something on fire with his mind. "I hate basketball."
Tommy stares at him. "What the hell are you talking about? We met because of basketball."
Buck sits up so quickly and angrily he starts wheezing and that turns into a coughing fit. Tommy's immediately there, sitting on the edge of his bed with water, getting him to take a small sip as he rubs his back. When Buck realizes what's happening, he covers his mouth with his blanket and shoves Tommy away, coughing even more.
"Sorry, I was just—"
"I have turkey flu!" Buck yells through the blanket covering his mouth.
"The doctor said you're not contagious anymore."
Buck points at a small paper box across the room. Tommy, so put-upon, grabs a pale yellow mask and slips it on before he sits in the chair again. "Sorry."
"It's—" Buck halts because Tommy had grabbed two masks and was holding one out to him expectantly. Tommy motions to it again and Buck can see how he wants to make a bitchy comment about not having this conversation through a hospital blanket, but he doesn't. That's what makes Buck reach out and put the mask on. The icy fist around his heart thinks about melting.
"We didn't meet because of basketball, we met because of Bobby and Athena and the cruise ship," Buck corrects. "I wanted to see you again after that tour at Harbor but I couldn't think of another reason—"
"I gave you the widest of openings," Tommy interrupts. "Hello? Flight lessons? When you finally offered to buy me a beer, I almost dropped to my knees right then and there."
"But you never called me! You're the one who left to hang out with Eddie!"
Tommy throws up his hands. "Ball was in your court! Speaking of basketball."
Buck sighs, exasperated. "We weren't, like, running into each other, I didn't have a reason to call you—don't say the beer—so finally I saw Eddie was going to that pick-up game with you and I dragged Chimney along."
"Right," Tommy says. "And you played basketball with us. We kicked your ass in a way that made me think you were pretending to be bad at it to make me feel good or something? And then there was the whole thing with Eddie's ankle."
"I hate basketball!"
"You brought your own ball!"
"I same-day ordered a basketball so that when I showed up you'd be like, wow, that guy's ready for basketball, what a cool guy!"
"So you're mad that your basketball ruse worked on my dumb ass, and worked so well for six months that I got you Lakers tickets for our anniversary."
Buck's so annoyed that he put it like that. Maybe that's true, but he didn't have to say it. "I don't like basketball! It was a ruse but I didn't hide it after. You watched games with Eddie and I never came along because I don't like basketball."
"You said you wanted us to have our Eddie-Tommy friend time!"
"Why do you make me sound and feel like a five-year-old? Eddie-Tommy friend time? Seriously?"
Tommy folds his hands together like he's in prayer and shuts his eyes. "Okay, listen, I just. I wanted to get the house thing off my chest, alright? Because it's—it's bothered me so much."
Buck could argue about the basketball thing for about another 500 years, except that Tommy has said what he said. "Has it?"
Tommy puts his hands in his lap again, folded politely as he looks at Buck. "I meant what I said. You were so swept away in how new and exciting everything felt, that I felt like you forgot who you were talking to. Like… I'm not a guy who's going to move in with you. I'm a guy who has a house with a home gym and a car lift, and—and the winter was so mild that I put in this little patio space in the backyard. I bought furniture for it. I took this corner of my front lawn, too, and started to plan a pollinator's garden because they sounded really interesting after those three days of bee hell. Evan, I have a house."
"You keep saying that," Buck says. His ears are burning, but he's listening too intently to feel embarrassed about it (much).
"I freaked out, alright? Because I heard: give up your house to live in this downtown loft with a couch that has a faded but GIANT blood and placenta stain on the other side of the cushion, and then the words engaged and married got thrown in there, too? All in the same breath?"
Buck stares flatly, then nods. "Yeah. I get it. Sorry." He clears his throat and grabs his water before Tommy can offer it to him. He takes a sip, looking at Tommy before he nods at the closed door. "Are we done here?"
"And I'm not a gay rights hero," Tommy adds. "You said that, too." Tommy looks away, and looks so miserable. "I'm just a guy, Evan. I've been burned before by younger guys who thought I was everything that their first gay boyfriend should be, and then—and they didn't see who I was. It's always—" Tommy holds out his hands like he's balancing scales. "Not straight enough to fake a life with a woman, not gay enough to have a real life with a man."
Buck hasn't done this in so long that his throat almost aches with it. He sighs, pained and breathless, the word crinkling against the mask: "Tommy." He swallows again and asks, "Did you really think that was me?"
Another long pause. It ends with Tommy saying, "I thought you were too good to be true."
"I'm not, though, I'm—I'm just me," Buck says. "And I did have a lot to figure out, but not about you."
Tommy laughs suddenly. "Really? Because you forgot I was a homeowner and I didn't know you hated basketball. Did you even go to that game?"
Buck coughs. "I gave the tickets to Karen and she took one of her brothers. They're nuts about the Lakers."
"Huh," Tommy says. "Well. I'm not mad about that."
The two of them are quiet until Buck says, "Seems there's a lot of things we don't know about each other."
Tommy glances at him; Buck can see the shape of his smirk beneath the mask, and the very specific way it makes his eyes crinkle. "And just when we thought we knew everything about each other."
"Yeah, I thought that, too, and then you dropped that you were engaged to my first serious girlfriend at our six month anniversary dinner." Buck raises his eyebrows. "Do you land helicopters that smoothly, too?"
"I got you here, didn't I?" Tommy bites back, then catches himself with a laugh. "Okay. Fair point."
It's so easy, it's so easy, it's so easy, it's so easy and Buck hasn't had it easy for months. He hasn't had these quips, this back-and-forth, this person who got him until he didn't, who—Buck rubs at his eyes. Tommy made it easy. He made everything easy. Not perfect, not effortless, but easy. Easier.
"So, uh." Buck fusses with the blanket in his lap. "What have you been doing for the past four months? You, uh…"
"Am I seeing anyone?" Buck nods. "I was, yeah. Didn't last that long."
Buck can't help himself: "Neither did we."
"Ouch." Tommy looks back. "And you?"
"Yeah," Buck says. "I liked them but I broke up with them because it just—it wasn't going anywhere."
"And what's wrong with that? Staying in one place? Isn't that what you wanted for us?"
It's not, but Buck can't articulate it, so he says, "Do you think that's the same?"
A beat, and then Tommy says: "No. No, I don't."
"Tommy," Buck says quietly. "How many people do I have to be with before you decide I've figured it out?"
Tommy's eyes widen. "What? I never said that."
"Tell me what you said, then." Buck swallows painfully, that turkey flu kicking his ass harder than he thought. "Tell me what you meant when you said I didn't know what I wanted. Because I told you what I wanted. I told you I was ready for something and all the things we did together, I thought that you believed me. I guess you didn't, so tell me how many bodies it'll take before you believe me."
Tommy doesn't say anything.
"God, and you know what really sucks?" Buck asks. "That we were together long enough to talk about who we'd been with so we could get tested and be safe. We talked about all that, but I never told you how many times I'd had my heart broken and you never told me yours."
"Three," Tommy eventually says. "Shawn, who was like… all of 25. He was all-in, knowing for sure that the first time was the charm, and I was old enough and steady enough to be That Guy. I believed the hype even though I was barely out of the closet. I shouldn't throw stones at Abby's House of Himbos when I set up my own on the other side of town. And then there was Raúl, my Army buddy who came out to his family and immediately moved to LA to get away from them. Everything felt like a fresh start for him, but… not quite for me."
Buck thinks to ask, but Tommy beats him to it. "Do I need to say the third?" Buck shakes his head. "What about you?"
"Abby, and you." Buck looks at Tommy as he says, "It's not just ending things with someone because it doesn't work. It's heart break. Something's gotta break and be mended."
"I don't think I did that part. You've one-upped me there."
Buck wouldn't have believed that 20 minutes ago, but he believes it now.
"So Bobby's been there, watched me since I was Abby's himbo and helped me to grow into the person who wanted that stuff with you. Once he, kinda, told me that if I care about how people see me, then I haven't learned a damn thing," Buck says. "And that is and isn't true, here. I can't live hoping I meet people's expectations of what they think I should be. I want people—I wanted you—to see me as I am. I thought you did but you didn't, and I didn't either because I didn't see how scared you were. I've made my peace with that. We had something really special and made each other feel really good but, in the end, I guess we were saying all the right things to people we didn't know."
Tommy listens, considers, and nods. "Whole lot of past tense, there."
Buck glances at him and doesn't want to look away, but he does. He doesn't meet Tommy's eyes. He's scared, too. He's done enough today: said a lot of things he's been thinking about for four months and said them very calmly and thoughtfully, but this is gonna hurt. It hurt Buck to realize it and it's gonna hurt Tommy to hear it.
"You got what you wanted, right?" Buck asks. "You got to keep your heart, and I don't feel new and excited anymore." Buck inhales deep; it hurts. "I feel like I did before, like I'm short one piece of being whole. Now the ocean I have to search is so much wider and deeper. So thanks for that, I guess."
"Evan—"
"I let you into my family," Buck interrupts sharply. "Because I cared about you and because you fit. I fit because they're mine and that's my family I made, and you fit there right next to me. With us."
"You're absolutely right."
Buck watches him, tries to see behind the sunshine yellow and white mask on his face, but all he sees are his eyes that, like always, make Buck feel too much, like laser beams disintegrating him.
"Were you really that scared?" Buck can't help the way his voice cracks. "You were that scared of me?"
Tommy looks up again, lasers in place. "I was that in love with you." He shakes his head like he did that last night in the kitchen, and looks up like he'll tip the tears back into his eyes. "And those heartbreaks—you'd leave them light-years behind if I let you. You'd leave me light-years behind."
Buck nods, then says, "Could you leave, please." His wet breathing crinkles grossly in the mask. "Thanks for telling me all this, thanks for the closure, but I don't need to see what someone looks like after they've walked away from me."
"You collapsed at a scene three days ago and I was the closest pilot to medevac you here," Tommy says slowly. "You were delirious and told Shreya, Don't tell Tommy I'm sick, he doesn't care anymore."
Tommy clears his throat. "I do care. I never stopped."
Buck sits back in his hospital bed and pulls the blanket up to his neck, the only comfort he's got right now. "If this is a turkey flu dream, I'm gonna be so pissed at you, real you," Buck says.
Tommy laughs quietly, sadly, then hesitates for a moment. "Can I ask you something? Can I ask you the scariest thing I've ever asked anyone in my entire life?"
Buck doesn't move, doesn't breathe. "What is it?" he finally asks.
"Will you give me a second chance?"
Buck, hearing what he's quietly dreamed of hearing for four months, doesn't feel the euphoria he thought he would. He feels something else, though: a strange kind of wonder that someone wants him again. Again. He swallows hard, feeling the pain right in his turkey-flu-ridden throat. Someone knew him. Someone left him. Someone came back—came back for him.
Tommy left. Tommy came back. Tommy wanted him then. Tommy wants him now. Tommy's wanted him all along.           
Buck asks, "Will you invite me to your place more than once every six months?"
Tommy's half-smile is still wide enough for Buck to see behind the mask. It falls, though, back into something serious. "Will you forgive me when I'm not a paragon of queer virtue?"
"Will you believe me when I tell you I've fucked around and found out enough for a lifetime?"
Tommy raises his eyebrows ever so slightly. "Will you believe me when I tell you I've fucked around and found out enough for a lifetime?"
Buck thinks he smiles a little behind his mask, but it doesn't stay. "Are we gonna break up again?"
"I don't know," Tommy admits. "But maybe next time we can stop each other and hit the brakes. I love romcoms, but maybe we don't do that again: you don't propose fixing a problem with marriage and a baby, and I won't run out the door."
Buck raises his eyebrows, too. "Who said anything about a baby?"
Tommy sputters. "I mean, you were the one raising the stakes before."
Buck laughs. "Right, right."
The quiet stretches out between them. They look at each other and don't look away. The stubborn, proud, cocky side of Buck feels annoyed that this feels like—like he can't get out of this. Like all roads lead back to Tommy, like he doesn't have a choice. Like if he wants to be happy, it's with this person.
A part of him wants to run and throw himself into the hunt again. He wants to thrive in the search for someone who makes him feel that euphoria and fondness and love that he felt with Tommy. He tries to imagine someone else, some vague smoky figure that isn't Tommy's height, Tommy's build, Tommy's arms crossed over his chest and that tilt of his head. The problem is that Buck feels more looking at that furrow and arch of his eyebrows than he's felt for anyone he's met in the past four months, maybe even longer.
Not all roads lead to Tommy—only the ones he wants to take.
"Say it again?" Buck asks.
Tommy nods ever so slightly. "I'm in love with you." He pauses and a smile reaches his eyes. "I love you."
Buck can't help the way his eyes water; neither can Tommy.
"Ask me again," Buck says.
"Will you give me a second chance?"
"Yeah." Buck wonders if his own smile reaches his eyes. He hopes it does. "Yeah. Will you?"
Tommy chokes out a laugh behind his mask. "Yeah, god, of course. Of course. You sure?"
"About you?" Buck asks. "Yeah. I mean, I want to be. Don't make me regret it."
"Don't make me give up my real estate."
"Don't make me go to any sports events."
"Seriously? Not even baseball?"
"God," Buck moans. "The sleepiest one of all."
"Hockey's good."
"You hate the Kings."
Tommy scoffs. "Of course I do. You always hate your local teams—you just hate visiting teams more. Can't let management get comfortable."
Buck attempts to take a deep, exasperated breath, but he forgets that he has the fucking turkey flu. He chokes and starts to cough and wheeze, but Tommy's there again. He freely, lovingly pushes Buck further to the other side of the hospital bed so he can sit and take care of him: water, tissues, hand on his chest to steady him, eyes worried and on him.
"It's not official until you kiss me," Buck says. "I'm not contagious."
"I mean, not with turkey flu," Tommy says. "Your Buckness? That I'm not so sure."
"Don't call me that anymore," Buck says.
Tommy puts his cup of water on the table next to Buck's bed, then shifts so he and Buck are closer, face-to-face, head on looking at each other. "How'd you get even brattier in only four months?"
"How'd you forget I was this bratty?"
"At my age, well, everything's starting to go."
Buck laughs, then coughs and wheezes. "Stop making me laugh."
"How'd you forget I was this funny?"
Buck tilts his head. "I didn't. I didn't forget a thing."
Tommy searches his face, then cups his jaw with one hand. Buck doesn't lean into it, just lets Tommy hold him as he tips Buck's chin up ever so slightly.
Then Tommy kisses his forehead and his birthmark, and wraps his arms around Buck. It's the warmest Buck has felt all winter. It finally feels like spring.
---
read on the ao3
539 notes · View notes
rjalker · 2 years ago
Text
Dear people who aren't physically disabled who plan to write fantasy settings:
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[ID: Several images taken from the Geordi La Forge yes and no meme format, with Geordi holding out a hand disapprovingly for the no section, then pointing in approval for the yes section.
The first image is the meme:
No: "Saying the existance of magic in your setting means there are no disabled people (this literally just means disabled people are killed. AKA eugenics)"
Yes: "Having disabled people who use magical mobility aids and other assistive devices. Realizing that someone is still disabled even if their prosthetic arm is made of magic instead of plastic."
This is followed by four more panels of yes section:
"Geordi la Forge is still literally disabled. His visor helping him does not erase his disability and make him magically abled."
"Toph from Avatar: The Last Airbender is still literally disabled even though her Earthbending helps her. It does not make her disability ~magically~ go away."
"Having your disability be accomodated does not mean the disability goes away. Having a prosthetic hand, even one that's made of magic, does not mean you're not disabled."
"Magical mobility aids do not mean disabled people don't exist. It just means they use magical mobility aids instead of plastic or metal ones. A limb made of magic is still a prosthetic even if it's made of the soul of the universe instead of plastic and metal."
Then another no panel: "'There's no disabled people beacuse magic'".
Then one last yes panel: "'Magic helps disabled people in a variety of ways'".
End ID.]
This also applies to science fiction; just because Luke Skywalker's prosthetic hand is super advanced doesn't mean it's no longer a prosthetic, or that he's not disabled. Same with Darth Vader - just because he has a suit that lets him breathe and walk around doesn't mean he's not disabled. (And Star Wars' propensity for making the villains visibly disabled while the heroes disabilities get covered up by super advanced prosthetics is a topic that deserves its own post, especially with how ableist some of the authors of the books are. Troy Denning is especially ableist)
Edit:
Because people keep being fucking obnoxious and ableist in the tags, yes,,, motherfuckers, if you refuse to have disabled people in your setting, that does make you fucking ableist. If you say that the magic is used to cure all disabled people and that's why they don't exist, that's fucking eugenics.
You cannot ""cure"", more like remove all disabilities without fucking eugenics. Magically automatically destroying disabled fetuses (a very fucking popular trope!) is eugenics.
The only way to fucking "cure" autism is to fucking kill all autistic people, also known as eugenics!
What about people with PTSD? Do you just fucking brainwash them so they aren't traumatized anymore?
Do you force all Deaf people to be able to hear? Do you force all blind people to be able to see? Do you force all anosmics to be able to smell?
Do you magically force everyone with a speech impediment to speak to your standards?
Do you force everyone born with bodily or facial differences to live up to your fucking standard of beauty?
You cannot fucking say "disablities don't exist in this universe because magic cures everything" without inherently saying that eugenics exists in your fucking universe.
Not all fucking disabilities need a cure. If you ""cured"" my autism I'd just be fucking dead. You'd literally just be changing me into what you think is fucking acceptable.
Stop fucking arguing in defence of ableists on my fucking post so you can pretend that eugenics has never been written about in magical settings when it is extremely fucking prevalent.
And while we're fucking at it, let your gods damned characters become disabled over the course of their story, and call them disabled within the fucking story. I don't care if they're a robot. I don't care if they have magic. Not all fucking damage can be fixed. Curses exist. Hardware can go out of fucking date and no longer be manufactured anywhere.
Let your characters become disabled and do not magically fucking cure them back to brand new every single time they get hurt. The only thing you accomplish by doing that is destroying any chance of ever having stakes.
No, "magical healing leaves scars on the mind from the memory of the injuries though!!!!" is not fucking good enough. Let your characters have scars. Let them become disabled. Stop being fucking ableist cowards.
Edit number fucking 2:
No, motherfuckers, you do not get to comment "if the disability was caused by magic it's not ableist to cure it with magic". You are the ableist this post is about. Shut the absolute fuck up, stop treating being disabled as the worst possible outcome, and just admit you're a fucking ableist. If you don't want your characters to become disabled, then don't fucking make them disabled.
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[ID: The Garfield "you are not immune to propaganda" meme, now edited to read:
"If your first thought upon reading this post is, 'Oh, but it's okay to magically cure disabilities caused by magic!' Congrats…you are the exact sort of ableist jackass this post is about."
End ID.]
Edit number fucking 3:
Autistic people exist! People who are born with disabilities exist! You cannot create a setting where disabled people do not exist because we're all "cured" or "fixed" and not inherently say that you are killing disabled people as soon as they're born, or fucking aborting us as soon as you figure out we'd be born disabled! That's fucking eugenics!
There is no way to "cure" autism without eugenics! There is no way to "cure" people with body differences without eugenics! There is no way to make disabled people nonexistant in your setting without eugenics! Thinking you can and should "cure" and "fix" all disabilities IS EUGENICS!
Also:
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[ID: A character shouting at the camera, now edited to read: "Shut up about Dungeons and Dragons! Shut up about Dungeons and Dragons! If the rules of Dungeons and Dragons are ableist, then fucking change them! It is your fucking personal responsability to be a better person than your bigoted society wants you to be!". End ID.]
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[ID: White text on a dark brown background with white and black borders around the edges, that reads:
"I don't fucking know or care about Dungeons and Dragons.
This post is not about Dungeons and Dragons.
Do not fucking throw the rulebook of Dungeons and Dragons at me like it's some sort of 'Gotcha!'.
You will literally just be blocked like the rest of the ableist assholes who've already tried it.
If you play dungeons and dragons, it's your responsability to make your games not be ableist, even if it means breaking the rules.".
End ID.]
I do not fucking care what the ableist rules are in Dungeons of Dragons. Do not fucking throw ableist rules for a game I have never and will never play at me on a post I made so that people could learn how to make their settings less ableist. If the rules in Dungeons and Dragons are ableist, then fucking change them. If you don't want to change them, then stop fucking playing an ableist game.
Disabled people deserve to see ourselves represented in fiction just like everyone else, without any fucking requirements that we be "cured" or "fixed" before the story ends.
How the fuck would you feel if a trans and gay character's whole story revolved around going on a quest to become straight and cis, did so, and only then was allowed to live happily ever after?
Why do you fucking think suggesting people write stories about disabled people going on a quest to be cured because it's the only way they'll ever be happy is any less fucking offensive?
Also:
This post is NOT a place for you to talk about how disabled people in fiction should have the option of curing their disabilities. It's just not. That's the fucking default for this society. That is not a revolutionary concept. It's not novel. We fucking know this society wants us gone. A post about how disabled people deserve representation is not the place to talk about how "Well, actually, in fiction disabled people should be cured!" Like that's not the fucking universal default???????????
Edit #4:
Everyone needs to stop tagging this singing praise for Fullmetal Alchemist. A story that uses disability as a punishment and the characters are on a quest to cure their disabilities is not the amazing representation you're all claiming it is just because the character who is only disabled because of DIVINE PUNISHMENT uses prosthetics.
Read this post, and this one. Fullmetal Alchemist is a hell of a lot more ableist than you people are letting on.
guess what you can now find a PDF version of this post on the web archive.
Edit #5! August 23rd, 2023!
A) Everyone. Disabilities that can only exist in the magical setting are still disabilities.
Trying to cure the younger brother's magical disability of being a soul floating around in a magical suit of armour is, in fact, going on a quest to heal a disability!
It doesn't matter if the older brother doesn't want to get his limbs back when they're going on a quest to heal the younger brother's disability! Especially when they BOTH get magically healed at the end!
Magical disabilities that can only exist in that setting, but not real life, are still disabilities, and it's not okay to magically heal them either! What part of the Garfield meme on this post did you all choose to ignore?!
B) When you leave tags on a post you are reblogging, the original poster can see them! When you leave tags on this post, I can see them!
If you think this post is ""too aggressive"" then simply do not reblog it! Don't fucking tone police me on a post I've had to edit five times now due to the constant ableism people have been commenting since I made it!
I have been called the R slur by multiple people in response to this post! People have literally reblogged this post to defend eugenics abortions! You can't see these comments or replies anymore because I blocked the poster!
If you think minorities are being too aggressive by responding appropriately to bigotry, you're a bigot! And you should either not reblog the post at all, or at the very least, shut the fuck up and not tone police us!
Do not fucking put tags on this post complaining I'm being too aggressive! That's called tone policing and you're a bigot if you do it! Don't fucking do it on anyone else's posts either! They can see your tags too!
C) When I fucking say Harry Potter fans are banned from this post, yes, this means YOU!
Either stop supporting a billionaire who's literally using the profits from her bigoted shittily written books to fund REAL FUCKING GENOCIDE, or fuck off!
By continuing to support the Harry Potter series, you are literally giving JK Rowling free fucking advertising! You are encouraging more people to read the series and watch the movies, spending more money and giving her more fucking money with which to LITERALLY SHAPE A COUNTRY'S LAWS TO COMMIT GENOCIDE. She is literally fucking fighting to make being trans illegal! She is literally fucking fighting to have even more of autistic people's rights taken away!
You cannot fucking be a fan of the Harry Potter series in 2023 and call yourself an ally to all the minorities harmed by JK Rowling and the bigotry baked into her shitty series!
Read another book! The Web Archive has tons you can read for free! Literally every single book on gutenberg.org/ is free! Including audiobooks for some of them!
If you write Harry Potter fanfiction, simply fucking get rid of the names and identifiable features and start writing original fiction instead! It's literally free!
Not supporting a literal fucking genocidal billionaire costs LITERALLY NOTHING! And if you refuse to fucking stop supporting JK Rowling, which is what you are doing when you support the Harry Potter series and squeal over her OCs, you are not an ally to any fucking minority! No! Not even if you're trans yourself!
= = =
Edit again Nobember 28th 2023 because this comment is just. such a perfect example for all of you that think this doesn't happen.
butter-whore2 said, two hours before this edit:
kind of a fan of tumblr's slightly more algorithmically elements for reminding me of the hell's other people construct for themselves but this one hits like five of the boxes. How do people do this to themselves? it's such a bizarre way to act over media I genuinely do not believe is capable of stirring an emotional response the metaphysics of disability here are unintentionally really funny but disability is not a coherent ontological framework, it's a vague descriptor for literally thousands of different things none of which lend themselves to categorizing Moralizing over fiction is incredibly lame.
Liking harry potter is also incredibly lame, it's not morally wrong nor transphobic and you do not get to decide that lol. people literally do get "cured" of their disabilities all the time, many of them have a positive experience in doing so. this is not what eugenics is.
the anti abortion stuff lol
Literally how do you live like this? you guys don't even read real books I don't get it.
Archived version of the comment for posterity.
So yeah, lofl, block this fucker.
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 7 months ago
Note
https://twitter.com/sluttywh0r3/status/1738661113154220340?t=VYLoAeMTbPq_UQ-a7lMuVA&s=19
You were both so horny but you just ran out of your birth control and didn't have any condoms so Simon said he'd pull out only to have you riding him and refusing to get off of him and begging him to cum inside you
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
READ IT HERE
9-1-1, yes hello? There is an attempted murder in progress. Yes, it is on my sanity, thank you.
Seriously, you guys are trying to kill me, right? Because there is no way in hell I am supposed to read that and stay sane. I'm gonna have to take a minute just to get through the rest of this post after the flood of images that just entered by brain.
But damn if it ain't a pretty scenario to think about. I am mean come on, just thinking about you and Simon being so fucking out of your minds horny for each other that you are willing to risk everything is hot as hell. Just him heavy breathing in your ear, telling you how good he wants to make you feel, the vibration from his voice making your clit throb as his lips leave trails of tingles along the side of your neck from the warmth of his lips.
Just the feeling of you under his fingertips has him panting as he tries to shove his hands in your pants, in your shirt, or both if he's lucky. He needs to make you come, it's the only thing he cares about in that moment; he needs to know that he has the power to make you fall apart and it consumes him until it is agony.
Probably wouldn't even make it to the god damn bed before he is ripping off your clothes as fast as those thick fingers can get into them and then immediately throwing your legs on his shoulders and thrusting inside you the second he can; he'd just drag you onto the floor with him and spread your thighs wide. That massive, virile man isn't going be able to create anything more than a few coherent words before it's all grunts like an animal in heat.
"We'll be careful. Com' on, sweetheart...Mmmm fuck... swear I'll fuckin' pull out. Just need ta be inside ya."
(I can feel the flames licking at me right now just for thinking about this lol).
Then you end up on top and Simon is on cloud fucking nine watching you completely lose your mind at how good it feels that the minute you start begging him to come inside you, that promise he made to you about pulling out flies out the fucking window without a second thought. You pleading with him to fill you up is going to awaken that feral part of his brain that he will not be able to control and it's gonna be all over.
"Christ, can't say no to ya ever, pretty girl. Ya want it inside ya, that's what your gonna fuckin' get."
He'd be so out of it, high off the feeling of you riding him into oblivion that he will not even fight you on it. He isn't even going to hesitate to keep going all the way until you both are a whole god damn mess and you are leaking his cum. Shit he'd make sure you got everything you want by keeping your hips locked together with his tight grip as he begins to slam up into you harder and harder, loudly grunting from the strain through that point of no return. The risk would be 100% worth it at that point.
And you'd be so gone with his cock shoved so far in you that your brain cannot even create a single thought other than to come on it. So what if this hot as hell romp leads to an oopsie; he'd make a great dad, right?
Don't worry, he's thinking the same thing and he's fine with it.
"Jus' don't fuckin' stop."
Give me a bit to write this all out cause I really really REALLY need this to be a full fledged fic.
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skzdust · 26 days ago
Text
Chan's Throne
Kinktober Day 31: Free space
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This is smut. MINORS DNI.
So I've done Kinktober very sporadically... but this is my fic for the free space day! Chan on a throne... ugh this picture had me so inspired. Huge thank you to @palindrome969 for the "king Chan" comment too hehehe, and for beta reading. Enjoy!
Summary: King Chan fucks you on his throne.
Pairing: King! Bang Chan x afab reader
Includes: riding, oral (m recieving), Minho appearance, "baby", "good girl"
Word count: 800
Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,
@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst
Network:@mirohs-aurora-society
Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!
Masterlist
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“Mm, yeah.” Chan sighed. “That’s it, baby.”
You closed your eyes, focusing on his cock, heavy on your tongue as you leaned against the bottom of his throne. You sucked on the head a little, and he moaned. “God, baby, so good.”
“Your Highness?” You breathed, pulling back a little and opening your eyes.
His hand gently ran through your hair. “Yeah?”
You leaned into the touch. “I wanna ride you.”
“Ride me?” Chan lifted his eyebrows. “On my throne?”
You nodded. “Yes.”
“Fuck.” He mumbled, his hand tugging gently on your hair. “Say please?”
You whined. “Please.”
He smiled. “You always beg so pretty. Yes, you can ride me, hard.”
“Thank you, your highness.” You lifted up your skirt, which Chan had specifically requested you not wear anything underneath, and climbed onto his lap, facing him.
His hand found its way behind your neck, his fingers rubbing little circles into your scalp. You closed your eyes, and he pulled your mouth to his.
The kiss was deep, and Chan quickly made it fiery, biting at your bottom lip with rough teeth. You opened your mouth to moan, and his tongue quickly found its way in, pushing at yours, pushing you.
At the same time, he reached under your skirt, running his hands along your thighs as you shuddered and whined before he pushed two fingers inside of you. You sighed, the penetration felt good, but you needed more.
You needed him.
He interpreted that sigh correctly, and pulled back with a low laugh. “Does my baby want my cock in that wet little hole?”
You nodded, putting on big eyes and biting your lip just a little bit. You didn’t want to overdo it. “Yes, your highness.”
“Good,” He murmured. “Good.” He took his fingers out, wiping them on your thigh, before resting both of his hands casually on the arms of the throne. “I told you you could ride me, I want to see you get to work.”
You swallowed, your whole body on fire. “Yes, your highness.”
You lined yourself up with him, and after a few tries, his unfairly large cock slid into you. It felt like it might push into your lungs as you seated yourself properly on his lap. You braced your hands on his shoulders and began to bounce up and down, fucking yourself on him, pushing the air out of you with every thrust.
“Perfect.” He mumbled. That, the slight blush on his cheeks, and the way his eyes hungrily surveyed your body were the only signs he was affected by your actions.
And that just made it hotter. It felt so dirty to be fucking on the throne, Chan’s throne, the seat from which he ruled the kingdom. Hell, it was still within his work day, this had just been the most convenient place to sneak away to after his meeting.
There was a loud knock, and you looked over your shoulder, your breath catching in your throat as the large door to the throne room swung open.
Chan grabbed your chin and pulled it towards him, although his eyes were on the door. “Eyes on me, baby.” Louder, he said, “Minho! What brings you in?”
Minho, Chan’s top advisor on matters of foreign relations, probably wouldn’t interrupt if it wasn’t important. You stopped moving and tried to look back again, but Chan’s grip on your chin tightened. “I didn’t say to stop.”
You slowly began to rock back and forth on his cock again as Minho started to explain something about another nation and a trade pact they were proposing.
“One moment, Minho.” Chan interrupted him. He pulled your head close to his, growling in your ear. “I said hard.”
You whined involuntarily and obeyed his order, going faster.
“Apologies, please go on.”
Minho kept going, and you kept going, the whole time drawing closer and closer to orgasm. “Please, your highness, Chan, can I cum?”
“No.” He said dismissively. “Go on, Minho.”
“I can come back later.” Minho said awkwardly.
“No. I want you to watch her lose it.”
You could hear the smirk in Minho’s voice. “I’m not about to complain at that offer.”
Chan muttered in your ear, “Would you like that, baby? For Minho to watch you edge yourself on my cock?”
You nodded, the thought almost enough to send you over the edge.
Almost.
You stopped moving right as you reached the edge of your climax.
“Good girl.” Chan praised. “Minho, tell her she’s a good girl.”
You heard Minho take a step on the polished floor. “Can I—”
“Go ahead.”
Minho gently pulled your face to look at him. You were teary from the lost orgasm, your face red and slightly sweaty.
“Beautiful.” Minho said, then looked to Chan. “Yeah, she’s a good girl. Let her cum this time.”
Chan smiled. “We’ll see.” He looked back at you. “Again, I didn’t say you could stop.”
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drenched-in-sunlight · 2 months ago
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I contemplated a lot whether to reblog that post because i think most of it was wrong, but the addition is so great and refute pretty much everything while raising some amazing points so if i could reblog only the addition without the original posts i would.
It’s just funny to me how every time i see ppl “here are Marika’s crimes” they list like 50% is what she actually did, and the other 50% are things that either was during Radagon time (when Marika couldn’t even have a proper statue that depict her as being the one in control), done by some other guys, or after she got strung up inside the Erdtree. Y’know, literally impaled and knocked out cold ?
The ritual sword and shield talisman (which depict sword and shield of Crucible Knights too btw) pointed at Radagon’s face to say by his time, all ritual combats in honour of the Erdtree had died out, but in LoS it was maintained and Messmer even had a talisman of Godfrey in his castle. A talisman depicting Godfrey accepting the duty to be his Mother’s Lord. Without wavering.
The ritual combat is just another thing that will remind people of the first Elden Lord’s devotion to his Goddess, which would do Radagon no good. so that, along with the Crucible Knights, gotta go.
All this just show how by Radagon’s time, the Golden Order’s ideal no longer reflects the Erdtree’s - another testament at how far from each other his and Marika’s will have diverged.
Also, i really like the fact that the Zamor and Ice Dragons allied with Marika to fight the Fire Giants who had chased them from their home, because to me that means at the start of her age, Marika was extending her help to people who needed it (with ulterior motives, yes).
Her age wasn’t built in a vacuum. She was a healer Godling with no offensive spells, Messmer’s health just got a bit better, Godfrey with all the implications in SoTe, was probably just a simple bear hunter? What on earth those 3 could even do in a land where the Hornsent royalty reigned supreme?
Go somewhere else, recruit as many people and make as many alliances as they could. I have no doubt the world under the Hornsent was a violent one (hell, it still is now, every time i went into a Gaol i want to go back and smack the Hornsent inquisitors a few more times). And for a new God to appear, and instead of stuffing people into jars, delivering Death, entrapping their followers into watching over some flame for eternity, running away and leaving their Lord to get backstabbed by a tyrant, this new God… healed people? Big shock!
So of course people would flock to Godfrey’s banner, believing in a Goddess that could barely fight, but soothed away all of their pain and sorrow. Sounds fucking familiar isn’t it.
Btw, why do people like to invent a bunch of authority and power for Marika then at the same breath will say whatever her kids do is to… spite her and show kindness to the oppressed?
So she is an all-powerful tyrant that could kill whoever she dislikes, and by some ppl’s standards she dislikes literally everyone in Lands Between (💀), but Godwyn could just befriend a dragon and spread a cult about them within the Capital, Messmer could have an albinauric as his Commander (to command an army that she paid wads of cash to and bless them with her hammer’s power???), Miquella and Malenia could go their merry way and build a whole ass tree castle (where is the fund. Where is the fund) and she couldn’t do anything to stop them? Even though those actions directly affect the strength of her army? What?
I swear i can’t even see other people’s Marika as Marika. Because their Marika sounds dumb as hell and a doormat too. Like what is this???? 💀 do you think i sacrificed my back and wrist to draw Elden Ring characters as beautiful as possible, so they could go be devote to someone like the Marika some of y’all envision? The bar was on the floor for you but not for me.
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meo-eiru · 3 months ago
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Breaking my lurker status (forgive my english I don't speak the devils tongue/j)
1.-I LOVE YOUR BLOG SO SO SO MUCH PLSSS-- you write so good and you draw even better it's so fun to see a notification pop up bc it also means I can see the silly people that also like your characters just as much as I do! I find it so cute to see all the different ways people live this characters I love it💥💥
2.- I beg of thee, to spare a crumb if One Eyed monster once again (when you have time bc remember to rest, eat and drink aguita💥), I've been OBSESSED with that one since I saw your first post about him, I just find him so endearing!
Like imagine scene! He is just so head over heels over by us but be doesn't have the courage to come talk to us, but oh! What's this? We are going out of our way to talk to him? HE MUST BE DREAMING! And we are just gushing over how cute he looks with his hair covering his face bc it makes him look so tiny and sweet that we can't help but reach to touch his face and in his daze we move just a little bit of his hair and he only notices that we have seen his full face when he can see more clearer (bc having so much hair in front of your only eye must never tough) and he just PANICS-- like just completely and utterly scared that he takes off running already crying and thinking that we will never wanna see him again and that we are disgusted by him, he only stops in an alley far away to catch his breath.
But in his break down he fails to notice how we ran after him, yelling for him to stop, following him to the alley and seeing in a front row seat how he is just completely broken saying between sobs how we'll hate him now.
But we never had hated him to begin with, we found him cute at the start so we got close to him, and when we saw that big doe-eye it was like staring at the most beautiful star in the sky, we would never hate him after all.
He doesn't hear our steps towards him, he only reacts when he feels our hand lightly touch the top of his hair, his head snapping up to see who it was, his heart almost jumping out of his chest when he sees it's us, both with joy and sorrow, I mean, we are probably there to mock him right? To tell him how ugly his one eye is and to tell him we never wanna see him again, after all,
¿If not for that why else would the one person he loves more than everything be there before him after seeing his one eye?
When he only manages to babble a weak - why? Here? You...Huh...? -
But we don't say anything, we just kneel down and hug him, holding him close, letting him cry in our shoulder, with one of our hand rubbing comforting circles on his back and the other petting his hair, waiting for his cries to stop.
When they do all we say is a simple couple of words, almost got loud enough but just for him to hear, leaving his once broken heart renewed and beating so fast he feels he might have a heart attack.
- You are even more beautiful than I could ever imagine... -
Something so little to anyone else, but something so big for him that he doesn't think his fragile heart could take anything else.
But he doesn't need anything else, he only needs this,
He only needs you
(I propose the name Jade for him, ¿why?, bc when I first saw him I related him with one of my favorite gemstones💥)
-Yummy-
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Oh my god this healed my soul, improved my grades, my eyes and skin are shining, world peace is happening, global warming ended and there’s no longer world hunger.
It just means so much to him, he’s so different from everyone else, he’s a monster. There’s no way you could love a creature like him who can’t even talk to you directly without exploding from nerves. He’s not handsome, he’s not charismatic, he’s not funny, he’s just a stalker who’s too pathetic to breath the same air as you.
Only thing bringing a bit of solace to him is the fantasies he has about you. Holding hands, going on dates, watching movies and cuddling, you saying you love him even if he’s a monster… Yes fantasies, such a thing can only happen in his fantasies.
So what’s happening right now? Is he dreaming? You’re so warm he can’t think straight. You think he’s beautiful? This can’t be real surely he misheard you. He can’t talk from the tears rolling down his eye. Please forgive him for getting your shoulder wet. He’s so just so, so happy right now. All he can do is hug you back and sob as he prays this is not just a dream.
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mintaikk · 4 months ago
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Shadowpeach Things I think about A Lot
Note: My knowledge of season 5 is very limited (only seen first 2 eps, and some spoilers). Do not say any spoilers in comments or reblogs. If you want to avoid spoilers completely, I suggest you don't read this
-Peng said it themselves. "Could Wukong do anything that could break his hold over you?" or something like that. But Macaque's entire world was Wukong
-Macaque's dream was spending a peaceful forever with Wukong
-"You were a villain like 5 minutes ago!" Nothing there, but this was when they were having that screaming match and I burst out laughing when I realized that's what Wukong said. He was tho. From s4 to s5, bro went from trying to kill him to living on his mountain again
-Oh, that. "This room(?) has been my home just as long as yours." That's true, but my guy, don't you have like a dojo or smthn? Can't you just live there? Or do you just secretly miss Wukong and want to live on FFM to be closer with him?
-AND WUKONG DOESNT FIGHT BACK EITHER OR ANYTHING. He just sighs and accepts it
-OH YEAH THAT. Macaque sleeps on the same GOD DAMN tree that he and Wukong used to sit at. There are so, so, so many trees on FFM, yet he chose that specific one
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-Wukong wanted to spend the remainder of his life holding hands with Macaque
-Correct me if I'm wrong, but in old China, a man giving another man a peach was a sign that they felt romantic love for them. Wukong and Macaque's hole thing is peaches
-"Yeah, because you always eush to my rescue." Wukong believed that Macaque never saved him, but from what we seen in s5, he does. Maybe he always has and Wukong's just never noticed, or maybe Macaque took that to heart and is trying to make up for it
-THE GOD DAMN SLOMO SHOT WHEN WUKONG WAS GOING TO SAVE MK
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-Macaque calling Wukong "cute" in the s4 special
-When we first see the ink demons of Wukong's past, one of them was Macaque chained up while struggling and crying. Whatever happened there, it still haunts Wukong
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-"I don't trust anyone that isn't standing here right now." WUKONG STILL TRUSTS MACAQUE AFTER EVERYTHING, MACAQUE EVEN PERKS UP AT THAT. And right after this scene, Macaque sacrifices himself to save Wukong. I think Wukong saying that really stuck with him. Maybe that's why he was a lot more helpful this season; Wukong still trusted him, and he didn't want to lose that
-When Wukong was getting the circlet put on him for a second time, Macaque didn't even hesitate when he saw that Wukong was in pain and immediately sprung to help
-Ik it's been talked about before, but the fact that Macaque thinks Wukong killed (and that he was about to again in season 3 when he was literally choking him) him but he still helps him when he can and smiles softly at him and goes out of his way to see him and stares in awe when he sees him coming to help MK and still accepts his peach offer (symbolism for rekindling friendship) and smiles when Wukong says "we" instead of "I" and gets sad when he sees the memory and realizes he wants to rekindle their relationship and crashes a beach party just so he could be with him (Copy and pasted from old post
-This specific art piece that Alejandro Saab commissioned and used for autograph signings
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-Macaque literally looking away and smiling in this shot bro looks like a schoolgirl with a crush 💀
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-Wukong was shown to help Macaque tie his scarf when they were still friends and in the shots of their past, Macaque's scarf is always tied. But now that they're not friends, his scarf is never tied. I just find this detail neat
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-As much as Macaque tried to kill Wukong between s1 and s3, the moment Wukong was genuinely mad at him, Macaque's first instinct was to run. Even when Wukong was holding him, he was still shaking Yes, he probably couldn't breathe bcuz choking, but these guys are immortal and with the whole thing underwater, I don't think they actually need to breathe. So this means that he was probably terrified the entire time, and thinking that Wukong would kill him again (I fucking hate doomed yaoi)
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-Now that I think about it, the only time we see Macaque scared was with LBD, Sun Wukong attacking him, Sun Wukong getting attacked or being endanger, MK being endangered, Bai He being endangered, or actually having to deal with the idea of staying with Wukong to help him (s4, MK going on that whole "I gotta help my friends" speech while Mei is being consumed by the Samahdi fire). Most of those things are Wukong and Monkey fam related
-Alejandro Saab doing a cover of peaches. Istg, he KNEW what he was doing when he pulled that one
-Correct me if I'm wrong again, but apparently, some gay men in ancient China would become sworn brothers so they could be together legally. Other than Shadowpeach, I was never much a brotherhood shipper, but do what you will with this info
-ALEJANDRO SAAB BELIEVES THAT MACAQUE IS SHORTER THAN WUKONG! THE DEBATE IS OVER YALL
-"Forever is a long time, bud." "Me and you just living here get on fat on fruit forever!" Bro was definetly thinking of Macaque
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onyx-syn · 1 year ago
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How LA! Buggy and LA! Mihawk would react to you wearing Lingerie Headcanons
Warnings: Spicy, Lingerie, Flirting, and Talks of sex
*Don't steal my writings and claim it as your own*
*18+ Only*
A/N: Okay okay okay- I know I keep dragging on the fics I've been working on due to work but it will be posted soon🥺❤️
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Buggy
🌹He never expects you to wear lingerie as he himself has never expected to be with someone, especially in a committed relationship. Yes he would make a flirtatious/outward comment to those he was attracted to, but for the same attention to be directed towards him was unexpected to say the least
🌹How he would get annoyed at being flirted with even with the slightest bit of a comment would make him into an annoyed flustered, claiming aloud he wasn't but that wouldn't stop the smile from appearing on his lips
🌹so imagine his absolute delight surprise when his creek eyes were greeted by an amazing sight of his partner wearing a lingerie set
🌹Buggy would have a devilish smile plastered across his cheeks, giggling in a euphoric sense as he saw you enter your twos room wearing such a lewd outfit
- "Well, well, well~" Buggy spoke, his voice low as his eyes set on you, the 'beauty of the ball' he would call you to others. Your body in a beautiful delicate fabric of clothing, clenched to your skin, showing off so much yet so little. Buggy's body laid comfortable on the bed of your bedroom, sitting straight up as he gestured you to walk over. Once you walked over to him, the man -feared by many across the East Blue Sea- would be on his knees in front of you.
His gloved hands grasping at the skin of your thighs, moving up and down slowly, pinching lightly. He would be staring up right at you, taking in all the glory and beauty of you standing like a god/goddess in his presence. He spoke, his red stained lips pressing onto your exposed skin of your thighs or hips, kissing them.
"You're so beautiful doll, looking like a true performer for the show. My show~" He stated, his heart racing at a million miles per hour, almost couldn't stand seeing you in such a state as it brought a sensational feeling to him he never knew he needed to see.
"Trying to get me a private show now huh?~" As he continued to speak, his hands reached further up your sides, grazing your hips, feeling how the switch from your delicate skin to the sheer fabric of clothing and how tight it was against your skin. It was a small change, but oh boy did it do something to him.
People were afraid of a man, seeing the act he would put off in an open setting. Whenever we would perform a show, he was seen as a 'freak of nature', a danger to society which made people across the seas to fear him. Not just as a man, but as a pirate.
But here, here it was different.
Here in the privates and comforts of his quarters, he could enjoy the quiet piece of time and admire the beauty that he has which was you. If people were to see him now, begging for the touch of his lover, begging for him to touch and grasp at the skin concealed away from him, begging to love and appreciate how stunning you appeared in the clothing, they wouldn't believe it.
His breathing hitched, gulping as he struggled to remained composed. "Goddamn this outfit you got is gonna be the death of me sweetcheeks~"
🌹After his first greeting with the idea and concept of you wearing lingerie, he was in love with it. He loved to see you beautiful skin tightly clenched to the piece of clothing. His eyes being memorized how how your skin would pudge over clothing with how tight it was to your body, especially in your hip to thigh regions. He loved the way your body was framed from down below, wanting nothing more but to grasp and grope that certain area of yours
🌹Whenever he would go on his raids and pillaging of towns, he would sneakily steal sets and all different kinds of pairs of lingerie he could find. He put them in a special case of beg to know which ones he would give to his 'freaks' and which ones he would give to his 'freakshow~' He would also purposely steal the ones he knows you would enjoy and feel the most comfortable wearing. Yes he was a cruel man that destroyed many towns, but he had deep care and love for what his beloved would wear in bed alright?
🌹He will have you perform little catwalks for him in your bedroom, putting on a little show for you two to witness as you would try on each pair of lingerie he stole for you, both of you critiquing each one. Buggy more so as in a sense of which ones would be the most easiest to rip off of you and fuck you, and which ones he wanted you to wear longer as you rode him
🌹He has so many favorites he loves to see you in its hard to pick. But if he had to choose, his favorite set of lingerie that he loved to see doused over you figure is babydolls with suspender belts, while yes, did conceal your body away in a flowly form, was still see through so he could see your bare skin. Watching you twirl around in the short dress of a lingerie, watching it flow in the wind, lifting up just enough for your hips and ass to be exposed to him brought an immense sense of joy to him you wouldn't believe, as well as how tight the belts clenched to your thighs and legs, he loved it all
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Mihawk
🌹Mihawk, as well as Buggy, never expected or really saw himself to be in a relationship. With his line of work, he would much rather prefer having quick stands or dated than committing. Yet, here he was with you, and behind the 'act' he would put on -as you would call it- he truly loved you with everything his heart could give
🌹Sometimes it was difficult to truly know what his expression would be sometimes, most of the time he was serious or had somewhat of a nonchalant look to him
🌹but the moment you appeared with your body graced with the fabric and figure of a lingerie set into your bedroom together, his eyes were all on you
🌹At first, you couldn't tell what his expression exactly was, his face seamlessly being unaffected by it, yet his eyes told a different story. The golden orbs of his siren eyes were swirling in a bit of lust and hunger. A ravenish feeling of wanting to tear the article of clothing off your body and fuck you senselessly
-Mihawk's golden eyes stared as you walked into the bedroom, a piece of lewd fabric covering your once exposed skin off from him. A visible emotion of curiosity emitted from your aura, worried about what his reaction would be at your new article of clothing, seeing as he has said nothing or moved from his spot since you walked in, only staring.
As the moment between you two fell into a thick pit of silence in the air, you could see the look in Mihawk's eyes become more... Hungry. His eyes glaring deep into you, you could feel the emotion he was giving you, feeling as if his eyes were tearing off each inch of stitched fabric off of your body, seeing you fully exposed to him.
But, another side of him loved the way your body wore the lingerie, seeing as it clenched onto your body nicely for him to witness for his eyes only. He sat back against his seat in the corner of the room, near his desk, his finger tips were collapsed together in his lap before he raised one hand up, gesturing with one finger for you to come over to him. Now.
When you strutted over, noticing how Mihawk's eyes were glued to the way your hips swayed in the outfit. He made you stop right before him. Your eyes watched as he moved his weight in the chair, seeing the formation of a bulge in his trousers. He made no noise, however, keeping a contained composure as he ordered you to turn around for him with just a twirl of his finger.
You did so, slowly twirling around, showing off the lingerie in its full glory right in front of you. You stopped back into place as you started before, waiting for Mihawk to speak to you. Instead, he didn't say anything, his golden orbs looked you up and down slowly again. You feel back into another pit of silence until-
"Marvelous~" He spoke, underneath his breath but loud enough for you to hear.
He sat up from his chair, standing in front of you. His colossal hands trailing down the sides of your body, feeling the fabric and what skin was left exposed before he griped your one leg and moved it upwards against his hip/waist, his hand underneath your thigh gripping it tightly.
"Absolutely marvelous, my darling~"
🌹Mihawk is a classy, yet naughty man, underneath all the serious attitude he had put on for his work and life style. He adored the way your body would wear the lewd pieces of clothing, loving every second the way your body moved across the room just for him to watch and admire
🌹Mihawk was and still is a mysterious man, whenever he would be away on 'trips' or so you call them for the vice admiral, you would awaken to a box or two with special engravings with your name and patterns on them. When you opened them up, your eyes would be greeted with the sight of different sets and pairs of lingerie. You felt the heat and intensity rise from your neck to your cheeks once you realized these weren't just any ordinary lingerie either, they were quiet expensive
🌹He loved how much the lingerie would make your figure be more prominent, showing all your perfections cause in his mind you had no imperfections, everyone's body had their own flaws, but no matter what you were beautiful just the way you were. He wanted to see all your flaws, and seeing them in such a sinful piece of clothing sent excitement down to his groins. He would have you show off the new set of lingerie in all angels, front, back etc, by making you sit on his thighs/lap and show him yourself~
🌹Unlike Buggy, Mihawk actually does have a favorite. But His favorite article of lingerie of you to wear is basque/corset ones with the thin belts attached to the hip down to mid thigh drew him nuts. He was memorized with the way it constricted your body, along with the beautiful fabric markings it had along the sheer sides of it. He admire the conceal mystery, how some of your body was exposed through the shear fabric while the other half wasn't. Only gives him more of a reason to take it off of you and rail you, well, depends on the night, sometimes he would fuck you with it on
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puppetwoman17 · 7 months ago
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Would you ever expand upon your joker junior thoughts more? I think that was such a well written idea and would love to hear what else you think about it
Oh my god yes. 100000% YES!
That post before was more of an idea vomit, didn’t cover all of what I thought, so I’m happy to hear someone wants to hear more.
So, JJ’s always been a tough convo for Tim. Obviously. But it’s not just because of how traumatizing the Joker can be, or about the shocks and psychological torture. It also reminds him of a grim time in his life. With Bruce still going through the motions post-Jason’s death, and Dick frequently spending all his time in Bludhaven, he hadn’t been watched much. Save for Babs, ofc.
That’s actually why they’re so close. She’s much more emotionally competent thanks to her dad, lol.
JJ wasn’t only a big thing for Tim, but for Gotham too. In a place like this, it wasn’t hard for whispers from the Joker’s men to travel to civilians and cops. Everyone knew why Robin was nowhere to be seen. Everyone knew why Batgirl looked the way she did, agitated and worried. Everyone knew why the cops searched that same warehouse over and over, never allowing anyone inside.
Which was also why no one was happy to see Nightwing, very obviously the first Robin, return after yet another sabbatical in Bludhaven. Of course, that stopped a little after everyone collectively realized that, oh crap, he doesn’t even know!
This begins a collective effort by the more clear-minded people of Gotham to NOT disclose anything JJ related. There has to be a reason, right? No way were they going to force Robin #3 to disclose anything he didn’t wait to. It didn’t hurt that a year or two later, a mysterious figure named Oracle began effectively making every news article or picture related to JJ disappear.
Everyone holds their breaths for the next few months. What if what happened to the second Robin happened to him? What if he was too crippled to go back out?
As the Batfamily grows bigger, it becomes way clearer that Robin #3 hasn’t said a WORD. Not even after they grow closer, when the screaming and murder attempts and arguments cease. He doesn’t say a word, so no one else does either.
Tim goes to great lengths to medicate himself against any variant of Joker venom or gas. The familiar smells just… bring things back to the surface.
He tries not to act like Jason whenever the Joker gets out of Arkham. It’s already hard for everyone to hold him back from killing the monster. Jason doesn’t need some second-rate copy of his trauma trying to get sympathy. Unlike Jason, he didn’t die. He didn’t come back differently, or lose footing on his life, his job, whatever.
It would just be better if Tim acted as aloof and concentrated as he always did. Not make a big scene, and follow Batman’s orders to a T. No need to worry anyone.
Honestly, the only reason no one notices the literal war going on in this boy’s head is because he doesn’t want to cause a scene.
Oh, and if you’re wondering what he says when one of the bats finds him the next night, still avoiding them…
Yeah, he full on denies EVERYTHING. Looks whoever it is, Jason, Steph, Dick, straight in the eye and says that what they saw was fake. Edited. Something to threaten Bruce with years ago. Tim just ran because…because…Anyway, he’s fine. Don’t worry about Tim Drake. He’s fine.
Babs groans over the comms when everyone hounds on her to tell them everything. Like hell is she gonna tell them a single thing until she has Tim’s full permission.
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kamii-2 · 5 months ago
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“you thought wrong”
so sorry for not posting a chapter in almost 2 months but i hope you guys enjoy this long-ish chapter! a part of this chapter is based off of a fanfic i read a while ago, im not sure who wrote it or who the fic was about but if i ever find out who it is i will definitely give them a shoutout type thing. i’d also like to say this chapter is where things start to like really happen (idk how else to word it, hopefully you get what im saying) and im very sorry if the beginning of the sorry is confusing in any way, also act like they’re all old enough to drink.
warning(s): cussing, drinking, kissing
genre: fluff
pairing(s): kk arnold x reader
“you thought wrong” masterlist
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chapter 3: “is this some kind of prank?”
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the moment you accidentally opened the door then shut it, kk pulled away from the girl she was making out with and ran to ice, not telling the other girl what was going on. “ice, i think i messed up any chances i had with y/n. she just walked in on me making out with another girl.” kk told her best friend, trying to catch her breath from running down the flight of stairs. “why would you even make out with someone else if you wanted her so bad? are you actually stupid?” ice was mad that kk would even do something like that, wanting a girl then making out with another, it made no sense. “i haven’t done anything with anybody in a while and the girl offered so why not take up that offer?” kk said, half joking. kk thought about where you could’ve went, “she left second she came back down here.” ice said as she took a sip of her drink. ��great.” was all kk said as she plopped down next to her best friend.
-
kk was all you could think about while you laid in bed, trying to sleep. after seeing her kissing another girl it made you realize how in love with her you were. you wished you were the one she was kissing, not some random girl at a house party who probably just wanted to use kk for sex. the image of her and the other girl kept replaying in your head again and again, you couldn’t take it anymore so you tried to watch tiktok to forget about kk and the stupid girl she was with. when you opened tiktok the first thing you seen was an edit of kk. “oh my God.” you said out loud as you got off the app and turned on your tv. you decided to just watch some netflix until you fell asleep.
when you woke up with a mild headache, you didn’t drink too much so your hang over wasn’t as bad as it usually was when you drank. you got up and took some medicine to ease the headache and drank water to help the pill go down your throat. you grabbed your phone and seen that symphony had texted you a few times asking if you were okay, you told her about how all you thought about was kk last night and how when you opened tiktok she was the first thing you seen. you two continued to text about what happened last night and other random things until symphony just randomly stopped texting you back for a good 20 minutes. you brushed it off and went on with your day, thinking she was busy or her phone died. in reality, symphony got a text from kk’s best friend, ice, on instagram.
-instagram direct messages-
@ice.brady: hey this is symphony right?
@symphony_roy: yea why?
@ice.bradyy: be honest, does y/n like kk bc kk likes her a lot and doesn’t believe me that y/n likes her back. @ice.bradyy: pls tell me i promise to not show kk like fr
@symphony_roy: yes 😭 ive been telling y/n since the day she told me that kk is gay and likes her back but her slow ass won’t believe me
@ice.brady: bro they act the same way exact same way 😭@ice.bradyy: anyway the reason im texting you is bc i think we should make them go in a blind date but don’t tell them the gender of the person bc i don’t want them to find out immediately
@symphony_roy: wait that’s a really good idea @symphony_roy: but we need to plan this more before we dive right into it
-real life-
after they planned out their entire plan, symphony went to your dorm. “hey.” you greeted as she barged in, using the spare key you had gave her. “so…. how do you feel about blind dates?” she asked while clasping her hands together, taking a seat on the couch next to you. “uhm, they’re okay i guess… why?” you reply while stopping what you were doing on your phone and side eyeing her. “because you’re going on one on monday.” symphony stated, “what?!?” you yelled while whipping your head to look at her, “i did not sign up for that!” symphony just stared at you, a small smirk on her face. “well, you’re going on it, i don’t care what you say.” symphony shrugged while getting up and leaving, “bye, remember you have a date in two days, i’ll send you the details later.” she closed the door.
-
when you woke up you seen kk had followed you back on every app you followed her on, seeing this made your stomach do backflips. you were a bit embarrassed because you had followed her for ages and she just now followed you back but you didn’t really care because atleast she followed you. as the day went on you kept stalking kk, being careful to not like any super old pictures on instagram or old tiktoks. you were stalking so hard you even found her mom’s facebook page. in the middle of your stalking, symphony barged in your room, “okay so what are you gonna wear tomorrow?” she asked while sitting at the edge of your bed, facing you. “i don’t know, probably jean shorts and a crop top.” you shrugged, “basic as hell. wear something more revealing, you gotta show off all that ass to them.” she half-joked, “bro then you find my outfit.” you sighed at her.
symphony went to your closet and started to look through everything to find the perfect outfit for you. after about 10 minutes she found a short, tight, light pink dress. you bought it last month and never got the chance to wear it. “it’s perfect, i’ll tell your date to wear something on the nicer side. you guys will look so cute together.” she smiled while holding the dress up. you were still unsure on the whole blind date thing but you were kind of excited for it, maybe you’ll meet your soulmate. you had thought about who it could be and you thought about it being kk but you weren’t sure if symphony would do something like that.
symphony stayed over for the rest of the day and didn’t go home until sunset. you two talked about life, ordered pizza, and watched a few movies sherrie she went back to her dorm. you were too nervous to go to bed, knowing that the next day at 7pm you would be meeting up with a potential complete stranger for dinner.
-
the whole day you were super nervous and could barely think straight. part of you was thinking about just not going but you know if you did that then symphony would rip you a new one. you were hoping the date was a girl and hoping it was kk but you knew it wasn’t gonna be her, kk was just making out with another girl 2 days ago, she wouldn’t switch that fast, or so you thought. at around 6:00 you started getting ready, putting on the dress and some white heels that made you an inch taller, and putting on light makeup. symphony showed up to your dorm at 6:34, “im taking you to the restaurant because im gonna sit a table or two away and watch yall.” she said with a huge smile on her face. you nodded in response and continued to get ready.
on the way there you were so nervous to where you thought you could throw up. the whole car ride you were silent and had short answers when symphony talked to you. “y/n its okay i promise. dont worry about anything. all you gotta do is meet this person, talk to them, eat dinner, then you’re done.” symphony reassured you, keeping her eyes on the road. you sighed and tried to think on the bright side of it, if you didn’t like this person then you’d probably never have to talk to them again. as you got closer you got more and more nervous but you kept thinking about what symphony said and it helped it go down.
when you two got to the restaurant you immediately got out and walked into the restaurant. symphony pointed, “your date’s already here.” you stopped dead in your tracks and whipped your head towards her. “is this some kind of prank?” you asked while wide eyes. “nope. your date is kk.” symphony laughed while pushing you towards the table. “symphony you’re fucking lying.” you said while trying to resist her pushing you. “i’m not, now go sit down and talk to her.” she said while pushing you again and walking away. you sighed before slowly walking over to the table that kk was at. when she looked up from her phone she paused for a second before she realized that you were her blind date. when you sat down it was quiet for a second before she said something. “hey y/n. how’s life been?” she said, not knowing what else to say. “it’s been fine, how about you?” you asked her, “good. did you know that i was your date?” kk asked with a smile. “no, symphony literally came into my dorm and told me that i was going on a blind date, didn’t tell me anything else.” you two laughed and continued to talk.
the night went very well, you two talked about everything under the sun and flirted a lot. symphony and ice were watching from a few tables over and talked about how cute you two were together. “i’m glad they made us go on this date.” you admitted while admiring kk, looking her up and down. “i agree, maybe i can get your number or something?” kk asked, “yea.” you say as you proceed to tell her your number. after she got your number the flirting was nonstop, now she was certain you liked her back. the rest of the night you two continued to talk about random stuff and even talked about going on another date.
at free you guys paid for the food snd drink you both went over to symphony and ice’s table. “hey guys.” ice said with a smirk, “do yall wanna go to a club or something?” symphony asked while standing up. “sure why not.” you said, “okay i’ll send you the address.” symphony said, talking to ice. ice nodded and you all went to the cars. “so how was it?” symphony questioned you the moment you both got in the car, “we were flirting the whole time and she asked for my number.” you answered, “aren’t you glad i made you go on this date?” she smiled while pulling out of the parking lot and driving to the bar, you nodded and told her more about the date.
after you got your ID’s checked, kk grabbed your hand and pulled you into the bathroom. “what’s wrong?” you asked when you reached a stall. “nothing.” she mumbled before kissing you, you immediately kiss back. the kiss felt magical, the way your lips fit together perfectly made your stomach do frontflips. you relunctsntly pulled away for air, “damn.” was all kk could say as she went back for more.
==================================
i’m so sorry this took like 2 months to get out but i still hope you enjoyed!! i hope you have a good day/night, love you 💋💋
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sgiandubh · 4 months ago
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This was a work Outlander event and posts. No way to determine how they feel about each other from today's Social media promotion. 12 minutes apart just shows it was a coordinated attack for audience involvement. When you have something about their connection unrelated to Starz, Outlander, then it will be interesting. But so far after 10 years, everything between these 2 still is work related. Nothing new. Even Sam coordinated his whisky event over the weekend to coincide with OL 'birthday'. It's all promotion. Do you have anything not related to Outlander showing a relationship?
Dear Work Event Anon,
I could really set my watch by you guys popping in here each and every time a breath of fresh air floats over this fandom. Since you seem to have a problem with people being happy about something, I figured out you'd actually be better hearing what I have to tell you:
I am not sure I am interested in what you have to say, Anon. You certainly chose to step in here completely uninvited, unwanted and at your own risk. At this point in time, I am actively hesitating about you being bored, daft, cruel or simply desperate. A bit of each, to be honest and the mix might vary.
Two social media posts might not be able to determine how These Two feel about each other, Anon. But, I wasn't exactly discussing that. I was discussing their entourage reactions, in my first post, something you probably understood very well, since I do not think you are visually impaired. I was also pointing out the fact S shared C's post in record time, something that did not happen in a good while. That is all.
Sam coordinating 'his whisky event over the weekend to coincide with OL's anniversary' (not birthday, punk - that is for people only!)? You must be kidding, pumpkin. Hasn't your Marketing Expert Supremo explained to you yet that The Kimpton Hotel & Restaurant Group, LLC is, in fact an international boutique hotel brand, based in San Francisco and owned by the InterContinental Hotels Group? Hasn't she explained to you that, as all the other international hotel brands, their marketing strategy is also focused on event management and planning, with a separate dedicated website to boot?
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Hasn't she told you there is actually a dedicated event management and planning webpage on Kimpton Charlotte Square's website?
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It features everything you'd need to properly organize any type of event. As is the case for a bajillion other luxury hotels all around the world:
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Same wallpaper, same picture frames. Matchy-matchy, as Ye Olde Troll would say. Heh. And this is how we know the pop-up shop was organized in the hotel (connecting) private Dining and Drawing Rooms:
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You also seem to not be aware that such events are never planned last minute. He did not 'coordinate' anything, punk. The opportunity was there and he took it. As simple as that.
If you think you do God's work by trying your very own version of the Chinese water torture, i.e. asking the same damn questions over and over again, well...You have no idea how wrong and clueless you are, Anon. What makes you think people will actually engage with a broken record?
And last but not least, I don't give a damn if you find my page uninteresting. Now be a doll, Anon - scroll on and fuck off.
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storytowrite · 2 months ago
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|You will always be mine ~ Lee Minho series|
PART 1
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Paring: Minho x Y/N
Genre: smut, angst, university au
Word count: 732
Warnings: sex, 18+, Minho is a psycho, dom!Minho, sub!reader, abuse, slight BDSM, kidnapping, violence, age gap, Minho is an university professor, Y/N can be hurt physically (and mentally too I guess).
Synopsis: Who knew that accidental fuck in the club bathroom with a handsome man will bring you to a lot of unexpected events.
Author's note: I kept this series for a really long time not sure if I want to post it or not, but I decided to do it anyway, so I hope you'll like it.
——————————
"Faster!" You moaned as his member thrust deeper and deeper into you "…Yeah!” You dug your nails into his biceps, your back pressed against the cold tiles of the club bathroom. He held you tight against your thighs, his thumbs making gentle circles on your skin. Your bodies rubbed against each other rhythmically.
"Just a little more sunshine, hold on a little longer." He moaned into your ear. After a few more thrusts, you both ended up in spasms of pleasure. You rested your head against his chest, regulating your breathing. “You're pretty good, honey, you know?” He asked, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead.
"Thanks." You only murmured and smiled slightly at him, "You're not that bad either."
The man laughed softly. He pulled away from you after a moment and helped you get dressed, then pulled on his ankle-length trousers and straightened his rumpled shirt. He wasn't the tallest man you had ever known, but he was certainly one of the most experienced. You didn't know his name, didn't need to. You knew you wouldn't see him again, after all so why care? 
"I'll go first." The man said, breaking the momentary silence that fell between the two of you. "After all, it's the women's bathroom…”
"Mhm, sure," You replied, "That's…”
"See you later." The man said before you could finish, then left, leaving you alone in the club bathroom. You sighed softly and adjusted yourself in front of the mirror. It was quite good sex. You thought and with a smile on your lips left the bathroom. “Time to find the rest of the crew.” You muttered to yourself and went in search of your friends who had long been lost in the crowd of bodies, swaying to the music.
You didn't come alone to the club. No. It wouldn't have been prudent of you, though you weren't the most prudent person anyway. Your friend Jeno disappeared into the crowd, dancing with every woman he met. You sighed softly, going to clubs with Jeno always ended like this, in separation, each of you finding more interesting company to spend the evening than your own.
However, this time you did not come to the club with Jeno only. His older cousin Jungwoo decided to go with the two of you too. You liked Jungwoo even though you didn't interact much with each other. He wasn't in the city often because of his studies, but that was about to change as he got a scholarship to the same college where you studied. You were curious if he would actually transfer.
You stood between the dance floor and the bar and looked for your friend. Jeno had long since disappeared from your sight, with some brunette, so you hoped that maybe at least Jungwoo was somewhere nearby. You didn't want to spend the rest of the party on the couch against the wall. You were about to give up when you heard a familiar voice behind you.
“Y/N! you are here! Where have you gone? I couldn't find you anywhere. Oh my God! Is that a hickey?!” Jungwoo stood, as if on cue, right in front of you..
“Hi. Woo…” You said, slightly amused. “Yes, it's a hickey, let's say I had an interesting meeting in the bathroom.”
“Mhm, I think I already know what kind of an interesting meeting…” He said with the face of an expert.
“And you? Are you having fun?” You asked before he started peppering you with questions about the man you’d had passionate, albeit quick, sex with in the bathroom a moment earlier. Jungwoo smiled widely at you.
"I have the bartender's number." He said proudly. "You don't even know how hard it was for me to get it. But he looks gorgeous! Plus, I got free drinks, so I guess he liked me.”
"Hey, I want free drinks too!" You said with a little jealousy in your voice.
“Then pick up the bartender.” Jungwoo laughed and was about to offer you drinks, when Jeno approached the two of you, not quite in a good mood though. One of his eyes slowly turned purple. “Oh, what happened?” Asked his cousin.
“It turned out that the girl I went with was not alone in the club.” Murmured Jeno. “Her boyfriend decided to step in... let's go home, I have to put ice on myself.”
<- Series Masterlist | Part 2 ->
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seeingivy · 11 months ago
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the mariners
spider!eren x f!reader
**part 2 to my spider-eren post
an: I call this...I hate my writing so much that I will just post whatever came out and say a prayer. also the fact that I ignored the poll and just picked one but u know whatever. no one ask me for part 3 bc I will write reader getting injured...
--
to spider-boy 
you: YOU KNOW WHAT’S STUPID?? 
eren: admin not approving your budget requests? the color scheme for prom? reiner? 
you: yes. to all of the above, but that wasn’t what i was going to say. my beef is with DOORDASH TODAY. 
eren: and what did doordash do this time? 
you: if the store closes IN THIRTY MINUTES, WHY CAN’T I ORDER FROM THE STORE????? 
eren: woe is you. but they need time to get there, sweetheart. 
you: you’re supposed to be on my side. 
eren: just go and get it urself lazy pants :D 
you: my stomach hurts. im on my period and i just wanted to order stupid ice cream to my apartment >:( 
eren: sorru swertheaft 
you: quit swinging and texting. just call me when ur home. 
Approximately twenty minutes later, you’re met with a very out of breath Spiderman and a tub of chocolate ice cream banging against your window. You pull apart the curtains and glare at him as Eren quietly sneaks in and plops down on to your red-and-yellow Harry Potter sheets. 
He’s never really come into your house properly, your dad being the police chief who wants his head on a stick and all, so he’s never really seen the extent of your…dorkiness. And he can tell right away, that you haven’t changed your bedroom from the little princess crowns and trophies you’ve been winning since fourth grade displayed on your dresser. 
You dig around in your closet for the hoodie and sweatpants you stole from Eren last time you were over at his apartment and place them on the bed for him with a pat. He’s peeling out of his suit, throwing on the clothes you left him as he reaches forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. You note the big bruise on his side, yellowing as he pulls the hoodie on. 
“You know, when I vent to you, I’m not really expecting you to go swinging around fixing my problems, Eren.” 
“I know that. But I can do that, why wouldn’t I?” 
You pinch the side of his cheek as the two of you pull into your sheets and resting your head against Eren’s shoulder as he digs his spoon into the ice cream. Eren braces himself as he asks the question. 
“How was your day?”
“Oh my fucking god, Eren. You would not believe it. I wear a white skirt to class and then of course I get my period. And then that dumbass Reiner on the student council starts telling me that he’s going to run against me for class president next year. As if he actually comes to any of the meetings, and then-” 
Eren loves this about you. That you get so worked up, so frustrated that the little veins in your forehead start bulging out. That you care so much about what the theme is for prom and that you lay out your outfits for class the day before and-
He leans forward as you keep ranting, silencing you by pressing a kiss to your lips. He can taste the chocolate hanging off your lips, positive that his lips taste the same on yours. Eren can feel you immediately feel relax under him by the way you snake your hand around his neck to pull him closer.
The second you yank him in, deepening the kiss as you hit the wall behind you, Eren slithers his hands around your legs and pulls you on top of him. He’s sure that the ice cream is melting on the side table and that he should stop because you’re on your period and because your parents and your brother are downstairs but you’re just pulling him in with your stupid flowery smell of yours and yanking him back every time he tries to pull away that he can’t. 
Eren starts kissing down the side of your neck, blood burning at how your body moves under his touch. He focuses on that one part of your neck - a few inches right below your ear - and sinks in, squeezing in on the same spot. 
“Eren.” 
“Shut up. Your little brother is downstairs. And your parents would-” 
Right on cue, you hear a knock at your door. You and Eren frantically pull apart with matching widened eyes as you dart around for a place to hide Eren. 
“Hi bug, can I come in?” 
You immediately pull Eren off of your sheets and he quickly crawls under your bed. Your dad walks right in as you wipe the wetness off of your neck, with him setting your dinner plate down and taking residence at your desk. He lifts up the papers on your desk - the fucking DNA samples that Eren gave you so you could figure out how he became Spiderman in the first place - and lifts them up to read. 
“Arachnoid Deoxyribonucle- this is so dense I can’t even understand it.” 
You quickly yank the papers out of your dad’s hands, shuffling them in your stack and placing them far, far away from where he was sitting. 
“Why are your lips so…swollen, bug?” 
You feel your cheeks burn as you bring your hand up to your mouth, feeling the puffy skin under your fingers. Because your stupid boyfriend was fucking pulling you onto his lap and sucking on your fucking lips. You cover up the side of your neck with the ends of your hair, positive that Eren’s lips left a sweet, pink spot on your neck that would purple up tomorrow. 
“L-lip plumpers.”
“Lip plumpers? Don’t tell me you’re doing all that for that Jaeger kid, because-”
Oh god. 
“No. I’m not, I just-” 
“Your mom said he was a sweet kid, like the stupid nerdy type. Like socially inept or whatever.” he murmurs. 
“He’s not socially inept, he’s just shy!” 
Your dads smirking at you now and you can feel your cheeks burning at what he says next. 
“Uh huh. Mrs. Eren Jaeger. I can’t believe you’re dating the same kid whose name you used to write all over your notebooks and diaries. And I get that you like the guy but you don’t have to change yourself just for some-” 
“I didn’t do it for him! And that was a long time ago and that wasn’t even true and-” 
“I’m teasing, bug. Just make sure you bring your plate back down. I feel like you haven’t been eating as much since you started planning the prom and working at Oscorp and all.” 
“Yeah, Dad. I’m really, really busy so if you could just leave that would-”
“Hey kid. I just wanted to see you. I know that you’re busy but would it kill you to-”
“No, no. I know that, I’m going to come to the vigil on Saturday, okay?” 
“Okay, bug. You better not be late.” 
“Promise, Dad. Love you.” 
You slam the door shut as he walks out, panting behind the door. You sit directly on your bed, ankle circling his fingers around your ankle and squeezing before he crawls out, his head placed directly on your lap. 
“Mrs. Eren-” 
“Shut up.” 
“It’s cute! You had a crush on me when you were-” 
“Eren. Drop it, please.” you whine. 
He climbs back into your bed, opening his arm for you to lie right against him. He’s rubbing small circles into your back, pulling open your laptop as he looks for a movie to watch. He pulls in, pressing a kiss to the top of your hair as he talks. 
“Sorry to leave you all hot and bothered, sweetheart.” 
“I’m on my period. There was no way you could have fixed that. And don’t act like I don’t see your friend through those sweatpants you’re wearing. You’re more hot and bothered than I am.” 
“Did you just call my dick your frie-” 
You clamp your hand around his mouth, cheeks burning as you lay against him. 
“Quit teasing me, Eren. I’m in pain.” 
He leans down, cupping your face with his left hand as he presses a soft, soft kiss to your already swollen lips. 
“Stop moaning and groaning you big baby.” 
He leans down, pressing soft kisses all over your face as he clicks the movie on, as you nestle into his arms. 
“What’s on Saturday, sweet?” 
“The vigil for the Monroe family. It’s on Twelfth Street, at the Mariners if you want to come with us. I know my parents would really like it if you came and-
“No. I’m busy.”
You feel your muscles clench at the decisiveness in Eren’s voice, your cheeks burning for even suggesting it. 
Why would Eren want to come with your parents to the vigil? He doesn’t even really know them that well and-
And Eren can feel the guilt itching in his throat at how dejected you look, your expression falling the second he denies you. And really - he hates to deny you. Eren reaches forward, tucking your hair behind your ear as he frowns. You reach for that little soft dent in his cheek, right where his dimples are, as you poke them twice. 
“That’s okay, Eren. I was just suggesting it.” you whisper. 
“The Mariners. They…thew a vigil for my parents when they died. I actually haven’t been back since.” 
You deflate, wrapping your hand around his neck as you lean into his touch, warm on your skin. You’re tracing little shapes into the skin on his biceps, his soft breaths filling the silence. 
“I’m sorry, Eren. I totally forgot about that, I-” you whisper. 
“How could you have known?” Eren murmurs. Back. 
“I was there. I should have remembered.” you respond back. 
Eren smiles in response, leaning his forehead against yours as he smiles. You absentmindedly reach for his dimples again, lightly smile at the little lines in the softness of his cheeks. 
“You wore two braids. The…the kind you like split in the middle.” 
“Pigtail braids.” 
“Pigtail braids. I remember, you only did them sometimes. Like when we had that holiday party in fourth grade…or Mikasa’s going away party. And you wore them to the vigil, with your shiny red shoes.” 
“I loved those shoes! I literally sobbed when I grew out of them and they didn’t make them in my size anymore.” you whine. 
“You gave me brownies, I think. We didn’t talk while we were there, but your family - you left them on the table.” he responds. 
“Yeah. I guess I was a little bit nervous to talk to you.” you murmur. 
Eren grins. 
“Because I’m so cute?” Eren asks. 
“Shut up. I did not-” 
“Yes, you did. Your dad just said.” 
“And what? I can’t like my boyfriend? Is that a crime?” 
Eren pulls you fully into his arms, burrowing his face into your neck, as you reach up and card your hands through the mess of his hair. It’s arranged every which way - no thanks to his mask - as you comb it back against his forehead and lightly rub your finger against the pink scar on his forehead. You pull back, reaching forward to press a kiss against the skin. 
“I’ll try to come, okay? I want to meet your family. And I should go back.” Eren murmurs. 
“Don’t push yourself. You’ll meet them when you’ll meet them. And you’ve already met Falco, technically, so-” you respond. 
“Just, promise you’ll be there? I’d hate to come all the way there just to not be graced with your presence.” 
You smile in response, as he pulls the blanket over the two of you and nestles into your arms.
--
It’s not that you hate going to the events. The vigils, the funerals, the lot of them. You’ve been to hundreds since you were a kid - an instance from your dad that you had to show out for the community, in the way that they were needed. That people were only held up by those around them and that you should always be the first one to reach. 
But there was something about it that just sat with you for too long. Watching the kids pass by, with the decorated pictures of their parents at the front, or a sibling standing alone in front of their own they just lost. At first it made your heart hurt - that it could easily be your parents on the picture and you standing in front of them. Or that your hand could easily go cold and never be filled with Falco’s warmth again. 
But this time around, it strikes you too deep. That this kid, it was once Eren. That he did stand there alone and was probably so reminded of it everytime someone invited him to the vigil that he couldn’t even stand to come back. 
“Hey kid.” 
You look over to your side to find Levi, the other volunteer you’ve seen frequent these events with you, beckoning for you to join him at the side walls where the two of you always seemed to stand. Not that you were anywhere near the same age, Levi was considerably older than you, but the two of you were always in agreement. That everyone else should make their move for condolences before the two of you did. The adults, the family - they were all primary to the strangers like you and Levi. 
“What did you bring?” you ask Levi. 
“Salad.” 
“Boo.” you respond. 
He elbows you in the side, as the two of you sport your soft smiles, as you watch everyone line up in the front. 
“What did you bring? Cupcakes?” he responds, jeering at you. 
“Brownies.” you murmur. 
Levi laughs, and you elbow him back, as the two of you watch the two kids stand at the front, and lower your heads. It’s right at that moment, in the break of silence, that there’s a large clanging noise directly to your left. 
You and Levi turn your heads in unison to find Eren standing at the front, now awkwardly picking the trash can up. You can see Pieck at his side, mouthing a quiet apology as every returns back to their conversations, and she reaches up to tousle his hair. 
“Be right back, Levi.” you murmur, as you quickly pace over to the front where the two of them are still standing. 
You make it over to them fast, with Pieck folding down Eren’s collar, as the two of them look over at you and smile. 
“Hi guys.” you whisper. 
Pieck smiles wide, giving Eren’s cheek one last pinch before she reaches forward and wraps her arms around you. 
“Hi sweet girl.” PIeck whispers. 
“Hi Pieck.” you respond, putting your hands on both of their arms as you talk. 
“Thanks for coming.” you murmur. 
You immediately blank, realizing very quickly what you said. You’d hate to make Eren feel more awkward, to make it more of a thing than it was. 
“I-I didn’t mean it like that! I just mean-” 
“I know what you meant. It’s okay.” Eren responds, smile so warm that you immediately deflate. 
“I’m going to go make my rounds. Come find me if you need something, Eren?” Pieck states.
He nods, as you reach down and lock your hand with his and give him a reassuring squeeze. He abesntmindedly leans his head against yours, as the two of you quietly whisper under your breaths. 
“Hi Spider-Boy.” 
“Hey.” 
“I’m glad you’re here.” you murmur. 
“I’m glad you’re here with me.” he responds. 
You smile, as you lead him back to where you were standing, at the side with Levi. Levi gives the two of you a polite nod, as you brace yourselves against the wall again. 
“Eleven people ate my salad. Two people ate your brownies.” Levi states. 
“Okay, Levi. I’m so glad you’re keeping count.” 
“Hi Levi.” Eren states, holding his hand out. 
“Eren.” 
You pause, giving the two of them a weird look. 
“He’s friends with Hange.” Eren says. 
You feign shock. 
“You have friends, Levi?” 
“Very funny.” Levi responds, glaring. 
The three of you stand there for sometime, as you nervously fidget with Eren’s hands in yours and watch each of them consecutively give their condolences. The line eventually dwindles down, as Levi leads the way for the three of you to enter the line last. 
“Do you always wait till the end?” Eren asks. 
“Yeah. Just makes me nervous, the entire thing.” you respond. 
“So you wait till the last second until you’re a big ball of anxiety?” he asks, eyes narrowed. 
“Exactly! You just get me, Eren.” you respond. 
The two of you walk down the line, as you both stand in front of the two of them, and crouch on your knees. And you’re in complete awe of the fact that Eren’s so quick to talk, when you had been hyping yourself up to talk for the two of you the entire time. 
“Hi guys. I’m Eren. This is Y/N.” 
The two of them don’t respond, sharing a blank look, as Eren reaches forward, noticing the little pens on their lapels. 
“You guys are Spiderman fans, huh? I have something really cool to show you.” 
Eren stands up, gesturing for the two of them to follow, as you instinctively reach for his elbow and give him a look. Except in response, he reaches forward and presses a kiss to your cheek before he shuffles away with the two kids at his side. 
--
Eren reappears after forty-five minutes, with the two kids in considerably greater spirits and a big smile on Eren’s face. He gives the two of them a wave goodbye, which they both respond to excitedly, before they run off and Eren snakes his hand around your waist. 
“Hi stranger.” he murmurs. 
“You disappeared for quite some time, Eren.” you respond. 
“Had to do a thing.” he responds, shrugging. 
“Uh huh. You better have not done what I think you did, Eren.” 
He smiles in response, reaching forward to press a kiss to your cheek. 
“Don’t worry your pretty head about it. I want to show you something.” 
Eren locks his hand with yours, as he drags you towards the back, and gives you a shining smile as you walk into the back halls of the little community center. It’s dark and dusty in the back as you feel your nose immediately tickling at the dust and Eren drags you straight to one wall in the center. It’s filled with small printed pictures, each of them glossy and shiny, as the two of you stand facing it. 
“When my parents died, there was this guy who came to our vigil. His name was Levi. And everyone at the vigil, they kind of look at you with these really shitty, pity eyes. They aren’t exactly all pretty girls in pigtails who make really good brownies, ya know?” he states. 
You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder, as the two of you look over all the pictures. 
“Levi, he was the last person to talk to me. He told me this thing, a secret, that only people without parents know.” 
“What’s that?” you ask. 
He reaches forward to flick your forehead. 
“Silly. It wouldn’t be a secret then.” 
“Okay, okay. Fair. Keep going, Eren.” 
“Anyways, they take this corny picture of you at the end. With your family or whatever. And mine is….all the way right there.” Eren says, pointing to the top. 
You look up at the picture of Eren, standing awkwardly in between Pieck and Hange with a pinched look on his face. Hange and Pieck have him tucked into his arms, which he’s easily resisting, and the picture makes your heart clench so hard, that you hug him full on. 
“Eren. You’re so…” you look over at him, frowning at his soft smile at your side. 
“You’re sweet. Thanks for inviting me. This was…nice.” 
You wrap your hands around his neck, bring your hands up to his cheeks to brush the softness of his skin. You reach forward to press a kiss to his nose, which has him curling his face in response. 
“Really. I like being here now. With you. I got to tell all those old ladies that I had a pretty girlfriend that made the brownies. Show off a little.” 
“You’re ridiculous.” 
He shakes his head, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your lips, before you walk back towards the main room. 
“Now where’s your dad? I want to talk to him about Spider-Man.” 
“I’m going to slap you.” 
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll just gift him this.” 
Eren presses something hard into your hand before he shuffles off, right towards where your parents are standing. You look down in your hand to find the pin, the two the kids were wearing in your hand. You place it onto the collar of your shirt, before you stand up in join him, noticing that he has the other one pressed to his shirt as well. 
“It’s so nice to meet you. My name is Eren.” he states, extending his hand out, as you two lock your free ones together behind your backs. 
--
an: do not let me make this a series I swear to god
taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters ​@itzmeme @cutiejg
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